clark likes being called a good boy 18+
he’s sprawled out on your bed, flannel shirt half unbuttoned, chest rising and falling fast. you’re the one straddling him this time, and he looks completely wrecked already—cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bruised, hair sticking to his forehead.
“you like this, don’t you?” you murmur, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. his breath catches, eyes fluttering shut, and he nods before whispering, “yes… please.”
the way his voice cracks on that one word makes your stomach twist with heat. clark’s always the one in control everywhere else; lifting you like nothing, shielding you from the world, but here? under you? he’s trembling, needy, willing to take whatever you give.
you lean down, brushing your lips against his ear. “look at you,” you whisper, rolling your hips just enough to make him whimper, “my good boy.”
his eyes snap open at that, pupils wide, hands clutching the sheets instead of touching you like he wants to. “don’t stop,” he begs, breathless, almost whining.
and the sight of him, broad chest, strong arms, this powerful man laid out and begging for you, makes you ache in the best way.
you slow it down just to watch him fall apart, rolling your hips in lazy circles, making him feel every second of you without giving him what he’s desperate for.
his hands twitch like he wants to grab you, wants to flip you over and take control like he usually does, but he doesn’t.
he grips the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white, jaw clenched as he whines through gritted teeth.
“please,” he finally breathes, voice wrecked, “please, don’t, don’t tease me like this.” his eyes are glassy, chest rising and falling too fast, every muscle straining to keep still beneath you.
you lean forward, your lips brushing his jaw, your words soft but sharp. “you’re so good when you listen. so perfect like this. my good boy.”
he groans, back arching, that praise hitting him harder than anything else. you can feel the way his body trembles under yours, every nerve tuned to you, waiting for you to give him permission to fall apart.
