you keep me in your orbit

"Oh my God, Clark—"

His hand came over your mouth more out of instinct than discipline, a soft shh pressed into your cheek while your body ignored him entirely.

How could it obey when his cock was buried deep, hips rolling slow and unforgiving, pinning you to the drywall of your bedroom with barely-there strength? How? When you were already shaking from the second orgasm, your legs clutched around his waist, your voice determined to ruin any peace and quiet left on your floor?! Tell me!

"We promised to be respectful," he murmured into your jaw, mock–solemn, teasing. "And you’re up here makin’ all these noises, hon…"

You keened against his hand, muffled and broken, your nails digging into his shoulders like it was his fault for being so deep, so thick, for hitting just right. Which it absolutely was.

His pace was lazy and indulgent now, like he had all the time in the world to fuck you through the wall just hard enough for your joints to bump, bump, bump in rhythmic defiance.

"Oh my god, Clark, right there,’" he echoed you the nightbefore. "That what you said, right?"

You squealed when he hit just right a-fuckin'-gain. He ravaged your neck, wet, hot kisses along your jaw, nipping at your ear.

"Think she liked the play-by-play," he added, breath hot at your skin, still full of smug affection. "Maybe I should give her the encore."

Oh, you hated him. You were going to kill him. 

Or maybe come again.

"Clark, baby, hol' on—Clark—!"

"I’ll—I’ll talk to her, hon. Bring muffins. A thank you note, too," he promised, cock jerking as your body clenched around him again. "Dear 22B, thank you for inspiring me to—"

"Fuck, fuck fuck!"

"Make love to my wife—"

He thrust particularly deep, and you arched, crying out under his hand. It felt like he was trying to fuck you make love to you through the drywall.

"More passionate than last time—"

"Right thererightthere—Ah!"

You came with a sob, jaw slack, nails digging in. Clark buried himself as deep as he could get, so desperate to somehow merge with you, and came hard, hips stuttering while he spilled hot, unrestrained, utterly unashamed inside you.

For a moment, there was only breathing. Sweat. Soft exchanges of ‘I love you’s’ and other tender sweet nothings. The faint sound of the city through the open balcony as scenic backdrop music.

Then—

BANG BANG BANG.

From the other side of the wall.

You both froze, panting.

Clark chuckled quietly into your throat, still holding you there, boneless. "Might need two batches."

You swallowed, nodding weakly.  "Add extra chocolate chips, baby."