Welcome to My Chlollie World...

Welcome to my blog. I've created it mainly as a place to archive my writings. Currently, my focus is on the pairing of Chloe Sullivan/Oliver Queen of Smallville, also affectionately known in fandom, as Chlollie. I began writing for this couple as Smallville entered it's seventh season, not ever really expecting them to become Smallville canon. So imagine my pleasant surprise (okay, I squealed like a fangirl in the throes of a fangasm) when the showrunners decided to put them together. I don't know what the show will do with them, but I don't care. I'll always adore them, and Chlollie will ALWAYS be my One True Pairing. I write about them for fun, as creative outlet, and because I think they're perfect together, and have the potential to be a supercouple, comic-book "mythos" be damned. The Green Arrow of Smallville belongs with his Watchtower. Most of my stories contain adult content, so please don't read if you are under the age of 18. All story graphic arts and manips are created by me unless otherwise stated. Feedback is always welcome. Thank you for reading!

And now for the boring stuff so no one sues me. Feel free to read it in that fast talking lawyer kind of voice, like at the end of a radio commercial.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Final note: I never believed in the years that I've loved this couple, that the show would do the right thing by them. But as a fangirl I just have to say, OMGOMGOMG! THEY ARE MARRIED!!! Thank you, Smallville for giving my couple the happy ending they deserve!








Sunday, December 7, 2008

Anything But Ordinary Chapter 16


Anything But Ordinary
Chapter 16


Gently, he eased her down onto the bed, his body hovering over hers as he supported his weight on his elbows, the warmth of his mouth, soft and pliant touching her throat and jaw line with languid gentleness. Though he had yet to touch her, other than to kiss her senseless, with his slow, drugging kisses that left her shaking, breathless and yearning for more, Chloe felt the heat and strength of his body radiating through the t-shirt she wore, his muscular power surrounding her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her thighs holding his hips, she drew his body closer, tilting her hips up, nudging her pelvis against him, meeting him, already hard and swollen cupped by the soft fabric beneath his sweats.

Desire, a pulsing, throbbing need that made him rock hard, filled his every pore, even the air he breathed, and Oliver wondered what happened to his resolve to be patient. What happened to not wanting to rush this part with her, giving her time? He thought to stop this before things went too far. But then she’d pushed her hips against him, her heat permeating a thin layer of clothing, and he nearly lost his mind. She squirmed some more, rubbing herself, shifting so that the hot, hard ridge of his erection was cradled snugly against her slit through her panties. At her movement, a soft grunting-groaning sound escaped him, vibrating against her neck, his breath wobbling against her skin, catching in a sensual way.

He lifted his head from her throat to gaze down at her. Eyes intensely dark, he was nearly trembling with desire for her. “Chloe,” he breathed. A small, sheepish grin formed on his lips. “Believe it or not, was trying for patience here…”

Chloe smiled up at him, her bruises even now fading, her eye almost completely healed. “How long have we known each other, Archer?” she whispered, soft fingertips smoothing the hair at his nape, moving softly over his jaw line, and then stroking his cheek gently.

His brow furrowed in thought, the pulsing heat between them at the juncture of her thighs where their bodies strained against one another, made it difficult to think clearly. He could barely remember his name past the pounding pulse in his groin. “Two years, almost three? I don’t know.”

Chloe tipped her head to the side, regarding him, her lips quirking playfully. “Close enough. We’ve worked side by side together, each of us trusting our lives and our dual identities, and secrets to one another. We’ve laughed together, argued together. We’d do just about anything for one another, right?” Chloe brushed her fingertips over his bottom lip. “We were with different people maybe, but that doesn’t change the friendship and history we already have, not really. You’re still Oliver and I’m still Chloe. Arrow and Watchtower. We know each other. Better than some people who are about to do what we’re about to do, wouldn’t you say?”

“I didn’t want to rush you…” He murmured softly, the restraint and control he’d tried holding on to was slowly loosening as his fingers slid into the hair at her temples, smoothing the soft strands away from her face.

Her smile turned up a notch. “If you were, I’d be sleeping in the guest room right now. And you should know, that I’m still on birth control pills, and disease free,” she volunteered. After all, there were no secrets between them, he knew about Jimmy and could guess that they’d been sexually active.

“No problems here either, Sidekick. Clean bill of health.” It was something he was always careful about, in spite of what others thought, he wasn’t completely reckless, nor did he want Chloe to think less of him in any way. He searched her face, hoping her belief in him was strong enough to overcome whatever Tess had told her about his past, knowing in his heart, he’d prove his love for her if she’d let him. He’d show her every day for as long as she’d have him.

Chloe watched his expression, intense longing in his eyes as he grinned down at her. Her own smile faded somewhat, her green eyes softening, lighting with desire as she gazed up at him, the torture of wanting him becoming so great, she could hardly stand it. Tess was right about one thing. He was indeed a work of art, and Chloe’s arms were filled with a near-naked Adonis. It was no wonder he garnered female attention. But, he loved her; Chloe Sullivan. How she came to this, she didn’t know, it didn’t matter anymore, and she’d not allow those old insecurities to come bubbling to the surface or concerns about his past plague her in any way. Not now. Oliver Queen was here, in her arms, looking at her as though nothing else in the world mattered, wanting her as much as she wanted him. If he touched her she’d incinerate and if he didn’t she’d die. “I want you, Ollie,” she breathed. “All of you. Here. Now.”

His body warmed under her regard, aching for her touch, her seductive whisper stroking over him with the effect of a soft, warm kiss. She nudged him once more with a sensuous movement of her hips, writhing against him. His breath stuttered as he took possession of her mouth with his, seducing her with hot deep glides of his tongue, answering her movement, meeting her instinctively, pushing himself against her warmth.

The first hungry swipe of his tongue took her breath away. Chloe felt him tremble as she slid her hands under his arms and around him, her palms gliding smoothly over the muscles of his back, down over his spine, slipping fingers under the waistband of his sweat pants. She wanted them off, the aching need contracting in her womb, consuming her like a flame sucking up oxygen. She arched her back, impatient with the barrier of clothing between them.

Sliding one hand up beneath the hem of her t-shirt, needing to feel the smooth sweep of her skin against his, Oliver slowly, lingeringly caressed a trail from her hip to her breast, lifting the oversized shirt as he did so. His warm hand cupped her, and her breath caught against his lips. Oliver peeled the shirt up and away, over her head, tossing it aside, her bare breasts tingling as they were exposed, nipples hardened. He wanted to see her, touch her, taste her. Her breasts were the small, perfect handful, perfectly shaped, her nipples rosy, rising and falling with uneven breaths, begging for his touch. Burying his face in her breasts he drew one nipple at a time into his mouth. His firm, wet mouth tugged on her nipples, sucking, tonguing, teasing; her body arching offering him more, her gasp caught between a sigh and a moan, sliding along his senses.

Oliver took his time to kiss and caress almost every part of her, each touch thorough and possessive, branding her as his. Fingers curling around the rim of her panties, he pulled them down, sliding them over her legs. Chloe shivered and fought for air when he dipped a finger inside her, stroking, spreading her slick moisture, leaning over and her kissing her hotly, capturing the sounds of ecstasy that passed her lips as he coaxed her body, maintaining the slow in and out motion of his finger, igniting a bone-melting fire that spread through her entire being.

“One of us is overdressed,” she panted, moaning against his lips, surprised that she could speak at all. She slid her palm over his torso, long and hard and muscular, her eyes alight with curiosity and wonder. Her fingers skimmed down the front of his sweat pants, slipping her hand inside, intense desire making him draw a harsh, ragged breath. A soft laugh left his throat at her words, and Oliver paused to tame his rapid breathing and heartbeat. At the touch of her hand cupping his warm, hard, silky flesh, he held his breath as his groin jerked in greedy expectation, every cell in his body erupting with need. She stroked him, thick and heavy from base to dripping wet tip, sliding her thumb over the head to test the slippery secretion there, delighting in the way his breath caught on a low groan.

He shifted on the bed, rising long enough so that sweats and boxers were shoved down, falling in a whoosh around his ankles. He kicked them off, then dove back onto the bed, stretching out alongside her, smiling down at her. “Better?” he teased, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Why yes, yes it is.”

“Anything for you, Mistress Watchtower.”

“Anything?”

He pulled her close, growling playfully, as he moved over her once more, fitting himself between her thighs, and molding himself to her. His body was on fire – hot, hard and ready, aching with the need for release, for the ease he knew he could only ever find in her. Oliver wanted to bury himself inside her as deeply as he could, and not come out until they were both mindless and spent. “Anything. Everything.”

“Everything. That’s quite a tall order, but all I really want…” Chloe gasped softly as she felt the iron heat of his erection pressing between her legs. “I just want you, Oliver. That’s enough for me, that’s everything to me,” she whispered, her body arching, thighs opening of their own volition, her heart slamming erratically in anticipation. She needed him inside her. Now.

Oliver rocked his lower body against her, his thick ridge nudging against her clit with delicious friction, his gaze locked with hers, powerful, hot and steamy. Their skin sizzling where they pressed against one another. “You have me, angel.” Chloe tilted her hips beneath him, causing the breath to rush out of him, as the tip of his manhood slipped between the folds of her slick entrance. “All of me,” he whispered, unable to keep himself apart from her any longer, he watched her eyes widen, and heard her intake of breath as inch by sweet inch she slowly welcomed him into her body. He made a growling sound in the back of his throat as he sheathed himself further inside her heat, stretching and filling her. “Don’t ever doubt it,” he breathed erratically, his body shuddering with involuntary tremors of arousal, and passion. God, she felt so amazingly good; Oliver didn’t think he’d last very long.

He’d barely gotten into her before her hot tunnel began clutching and gripping him. Sliding a hand down to her hips, he lifted her, giving her more, taking all she had to offer and silently demanding that she give even more, her body bombarded by sensation after sensation. Everywhere he touched her, it felt as if an electrical current pulsed beneath her skin. He drove her wild, his slow torturous rhythm, pumping and thrusting, rocking her hips, so deep inside it made her ache, taking all he was giving, absorbing the heat of him. Thrill after thrill shot through her, as he possessed her body. His passion swirled around her, raging through both of them, the rhythm of their bodies moving together, increasing in intensity with every thrust. Her body began to vibrate with liquid fire. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Oliver.” She raised her eyes to find him watching her, his gaze hot, lids closing over in ecstasy. Clutching him, she pulled him down, kissing him hard, lips and teeth and tongues rolling, demanding him, commanding him, they breathed each other’s labored breath, sighs and moans from each of them filling the room.

Without warning, Oliver rolled, pulling her with him, so that she straddled his hips, still inside her tight warmth. He wanted to draw it out, and if he didn’t let her have control now, he’d come before he knew it. Hands reaching for her, needing to touch her everywhere, her hips, the curve of her waist, her back, skimming and cupping her breasts, kneading them, as she moved over him, hips gyrating, varying the pace, rising and falling on his hard length, his hips rising to meet her. He watched her, so beautiful as her eyes closed and her head tipped back, revealing the column of her throat, sounds of pleasure escaping her. He watched himself disappear inside her over and over again, until his eyes rolled back, a guttural sound, deep in his chest mingled with her cries. He pulled her down, cupping her cheeks, fingers threading through the tousled golden hair covering her face, kissing her, taking her mouth as he took her body, he groaned and nearly came up off the bed. “Chloe… Chloe…” he panted, his voice strained in urgent warning.

Chloe knew he was on the precipice; this knowledge somehow edging her onward. She spiraled up and over carrying him with her, whimpering into his mouth, grinding herself down on him, as she tumbled over the last edge of pleasure, dizzying pulsing sensations coursing through her womb, radiating throughout her entire body. Chloe felt a spasmodic tightening of his muscles, shudders wracked his body, and Oliver, unable to stop the long, ragged groan of release, clutched her hips, immersing himself deep-deeper, the heady rush and flow from his groin, spilling inside her.

Chloe slid down to him soft, boneless, limp, her body sprawled atop his, as she fought for air. She never knew passion could feel like this. Oliver held her tight against him as his heart continued to race, his blood simmering, he remained inside her, not wanting leave, wanting to be part of her. “You have me, Chloe. All of me,” he breathed erratically into the soft golden strands of hair that covered his face. “Don’t ever doubt it.”

End Chapter 16

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