Scratching An Itch

TITLE: Scratching An Itch

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 1 of 1

FANDOM: Smallville

SHIP: Tess / Oliver

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Erotica

SPOILERS: A couple, Season Eight

UNIVERSE: WARNING: HERE BE SPOILERS - SEASON 8, EPISODE 5. Getting answers from Oliver leaves Tess with an itch and a need to relive the best part of their prior relationship.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Smallville. None of these characters belong to me. They belong to The WB and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - midknight_tales@yahoo.com

CHAPTER ONE

She wanted answers and now she was going to get them. She was breathing hard, more with emotion than exertion as they stood, faces only inches apart, the bow staff held between them, quivering with the pressure they both exerting. "What were you afraid of, Oliver?" she asked him point blank. "Mercy." He spoke his pet name for her, anguish hard and tight in his voice. He was the only person to ever call her that and she felt a flutter in her heart and a nostalgic twinge for better times, but would not let it weaken her resolve as she increased her pressure, trying to get the staff closer to his throat. "What... the... hell... were... you... so... afraid... of?" she ground out; letting the hurt and anger of his betrayal paint her tone with sharp steel.

His surrender was so sudden, she nearly wasn't able to check herself and stop from crushing his windpipe as he stopped resisting her. "You, Tess Mercer. I was afraid of you and what I was feeling for you. What we were becoming." He admitted his voice soft and sincere. There lips were so close together she could feel his warm breath on hers. "You stupid, stupid bastard, Oliver Queen." She whispered and then pressed her lips to his and let the staff clatter to the floor as she pressed her body against his, pinning him between it and the unmoving column behind him.

The touch of his lips and the feel of his arms wrapping around her, strong fingers sliding along her cheek and worming into her dark, red curls to cup her head was electric and sparked long buried memories of better, simpler times. She felt him react against her belly, growing long, thick, hard and throbbing as she ground against him. Their heads tilting, lips shifting as they sucked and nipped at each other. Tongues snaked and explored, fencing light and lithe one moment, tangling and wrestling the next. She clutched at his shoulders, feeling his muscles shift and bunch under her fingers. His spiky blonde hair tickled her fingers as she cupped his head as well.

"I shouldn't be doing this. The past is the past, no matter how good it might have been. I should break away, slap him and tell him to get the hell out." She thought, but instead her eyes fluttered closed as her body betrayed her need, her nipples swelling and growing hard against the material of her sweaty top and her sex, clenching and flexing against itself as she became open and moist. She groaned into his mouth as his hands found the globes of her ass and began to rhythmically squeeze them as they dry humped and continued to kiss with growing ardor. He swept her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved away from the pillar. She broke their kiss, opening her eyes to find his smoldering back at her with passion and hunger, in a way she was surprised to find she had truly missed. She licked her lower lip, finding it swollen and tingly, along with her breasts as they slid against his hard chest as it rose and fell with their heavy breathing. "Up the stairs and the third door on the left." She instructed, her voice husky with desire.

They made the journey in short, jarring pleasurable stages. The first stop was the balustrade at the foot of the stair, the wood, pressing into the small of her back as they stopped to resume kissing and undulating together. Next was the wall opposite the head of the stairs where she grunted with the impact that dislodged the painting next to them from the wall. "Sorry." He apologized, but she simply sucked hard at his lower lip and pulled it back, stretching it until he winced before she let go. She could feel him hot, hard and throbbing against her belly and she wanted to feel him hot, hard and throbbing inside her. It had been too long, and not just with Oliver. She rationalized that she was giving in to her physical needs, and the emotional release was just a lucky side effect. Despite all the speculation she and Lex had never been intimate and being his secret protŽgŽ had not left a lot of time for romance or sexual dalliances.

They continued down the hall to her bedroom, careening off the walls, grunting and groaning as they slammed each other against one wall and then the other. She could feel the crotch of her lycra shorts growing damp as her panties failed to hold back the flood of her cream as her intimate flesh clenched and shifted against itself in anticipation. She tore open the front of his shirt, sending button skittering in every direction and dragged her fingernails down his chest as he carried her into her bedroom. He lowered her onto her large, king sized and silk-sheeted bed, grinding and undulating against her as they wormed their way onto the bed; dry humping with the urgent need of their desire.

They tore their lips away from each other, panting. "Damn, Mercy. I've missed you." He admitted, shucking the remains of his ruined shirt off his shoulders and tossing it to the floor. She wanted to tell him that she had missed him too, but did not allow herself that added weakness and instead simple lifted herself and then her arms for him to remove her top. He gathered it at the hem and pulled it off over her head, stopping just as the material cleared her nose, to once again capture her lips. "Damn I did miss him." She thought as his sweet teasing kiss dragged out in the darkness behind the material of the top and her closed lids. He eased the top away and dropped it to the floor, following her as she dropped back to the bed. The cool air felt good on the hot skin of her chest and breasts and the tingling tips of her nipples as they tightened.

She kicked her shoes off, keeping her legs wrapped around him as he trailed kisses from her lips, nibbling along her jaw line and then down her throat. He paused a moment to suck at her pulse point and she felt the beat of her heart against his lips, the same way she had a lifetime and a million miles away. She reached for his belt, forcing herself to narrow her focus and concentrate on what should be a simply task if she were not so distracted by the delightful blooms of heat and pressure his lips were leaving on her skin or the warm, wet and abstract patterns his tongue drew as it dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat. She managed his belt on the third try, but could go no further as her spine tightened and her head pressed back into the silk sheet below her as his hand and then his lips found her breast and shuddering waves of pleasure shot into her chest. His fingers and palms were delightfully warm pressure that tested the resilience and pliability of her flesh while his lips suckled at her nipple and areola and his tongue bathed it with liquid, slippery heat. She groaned and murmured her approval as he kept his and on her breast and moved his lips to the other, running his tongue in a decreasing spiral until he captured that nipple. His thumb and forefinger took over the task of stimulating her saliva-slick and unattended nipple and she started rolling her shoulders, alternately pressing her tit flesh into his hand or his mouth.

Pleasure sparked through her, enflaming her desire; making her passion strain at the tight leash she had been keeping it on. She dragged her fingers through his hair, feeling his scalp under her fingernails as she pressed him to her rising breast. She made a sound of displeasure as he fought her grip and lifted his head, holding her tingling nipple lightly in his teeth and stretching it before he let go. He flashed her a grin that she remembered so well, but hadn't seen in a lifetime and then lowered his head again, planting a hot kiss below her breasts. She was loathe to relinquish her hold on him or the pleasure his talented mouth had produced on her breast, but she knew even greater delight awaited as he drew a slithering line of wet saliva down her midriff, which trembled under his touch. He backed away from her, moving down her body and she replaced his hand on her breasts with her own as he used both hands to tug at the waistband of her pants.

Tess lifted her butt to help him and he pulled both the tight training pants and her sodden panties off her hips and buttocks. He literally had to peel the crotch of her panties free of her swollen lips and pink, open, glistening folds. She gasped softly at the sudden rush of cool air on her hot, moist sex as he dragged the pants and undergarment off her legs and away, finally leaving her naked. His gaze painted her skin with heat. She had missed that look, part adoration, part awe and part hungry lust that made her inside twitch and feel itchy. He ran his fingers lightly over the smooth hairless curve of her mons. "You shaved." He commented, stroking the skin where she had once kept a well-trimmed strip of red pubic hair. "Things change." She told him as echoes of his touch remained after his fingers had passed,

She shuddered as he blew lightly on her sex; his breath heating already heated flesh. "Somethings, but not everything." He whispered just loud enough for her to hear and then kissed the inside of her thigh. He shifted from side to side, sucking and nipping at her smooth skin as he worked his way up to her crotch. She blinked at the familiarity of the sensation and then her breath hitched as he ran his tongue up the length of her slit in a long slow lap that ended just short of her clit. He's strong fingers massaged her thighs and kept her legs spread as she involuntarily tried to close them on his skillful oral assault. He repeated the process again and again and again, letting his tongue delve and snake between her folds and making her butt clench, her insides twist and flood her cream onto his seeking tongue as her breath shuddered in her lungs in response to the pleasure that sang along her nerves on electric energy. She could feel some of that energy pool and start to build in the pit of her stomach, a small, tight little roiling ball of incandescence that made the promise of the supernova of a climax it was to become.

She moaned and muttered his name from between gritted teeth, her spine curving and relaxing as he added first one and then another of his fingers to the fray and also, finally transferred some of his attention to her exposed and buzzing clit. He seemed to remember all the little things that drove her crazy. Things that she had guided him to discover all those years ago, things she still responded too now as strongly as she had them. "Yes, not everything changes." She thought through the haze of pleasure he was creating as he stroked her most intimate flesh and suckled, flicked and rolled her clit with the perfect speed and pressure that made her nerves blaze, her body buck and her climax grow. Her snatch clutched at his fingers as they sawed back and forth inside her, occasionally curling up and twisting to caress the secret spot that sent a heavy charge of delight snaking through her to keep her heart racing and air a sweet, hard commodity to come by.

She had to blink rapidly to clear her vision and her eyes met his over her heaving breasts as he looked up her body with naked desire. She reached for him, but found him just out of her reach. She worried at her lower lip as she felt her belly start to quiver as her building climax expanded and tested the bounds of her flesh. Oliver, Ollie... Come here... Please?" She asked, shocked by the pleading desperation in her rough voice. "I want... Want you inside me." She admitted her desire in a rush, feeling a fresh flood of hot sex grease fill her with the admission. "I never could deny you anything you really wanted, Mercy." He informed her, lifting his head and she could see her juices glistening wetly on his lips, chin and cheek. She let her head loll to the side, relaxed and boneless as she watched him remove and discard the rest of his clothes revealing his thick, long, slightly-curved member, which she remembered all too well. The short respite from contact with him had given her the time to marshal her will and pacify her building climax some, but she still shuddered as he ran his hand up her body, sliding his up her to settle between her willingly spread legs.

Oliver dipped his head and planted a wet, hot, sucking kiss on fist one and then the other of her nipples before trailing butterfly light ones up her chest before capturing her lips. She kissed him back hard, tasting her sweet nectar on his lips and in his mouth. Her breasts flattened against his hard, hairless chest, her nipples scrapping and grinding along his skin as the slid together. She felt him brush against her swollen lips and snaked her hand down between them, letting her hand stroke down his smooth, hard phallus, feeling it throb against her touch as she wrapped her hand around its base and guided him through her eagerly lubricated folds and to her entrance. Her snatch clenched in anticipation as she let him go and grabbed the hard curves of his buttocks. His lips left hers, sucking at her full lower one before leaving. His eyes captured hers with the same intensity as he had her lips and they shared a moment that merged their past with their present, eyes shifting slightly, searching and asking and answering all the questions both knew they would never bring themselves to ask. She squeezed, flexing her fingers and digging her nails into his flesh as her back arched, pressing her head back, hard into the pillow beneath it, her wealth of red curls tumbling around her face, hot and ticklish against her skin as he drove forward.

She drew her legs up and spread them further apart as he stretched and filled her deliciously resistant and protesting flesh. He knifed into her with steady, unwavering and unrelenting pressure, forging a fiery trail of friction that inexorably led to her intimate core. She blinked, letting out a long, heavy sigh of delight as his penetration of her came, not only with delectable pleasure, but also with a flood of memories of other times they had been lovers. She let herself revel in that past as his pelvis met hers and she ground back against him, sparks and waves of erotic energy lancing into her from their passionate connection. She adjusted to his invasion, her channel flexing and rippling around him, testing the hardness of the shaft that impaled her and flooding hot with lubricating grease in preparation for what was to come.

Tess allowed herself the illusion that all the years hadn't passed, that he hadn't done what he'd done and that everything was as idyllic as it had been. She knew it was an illusion and it didn't quite completely mask the ache of his betrayal, but it did allow her to enjoy herself. He began to rock inside her, the arch and scope of his movements becoming slowly greater, his strokes longer. His mouth licked and sucked at the skin of her shoulder and neck and she gasped and groaned as he added more power to his thrusts, making her body shake with the shockwaves of his body colliding with hers.

She scraped her nails up his back, feeling his muscles shift and flex as they moved together, her legs rose, her inner thighs rubbing against his rolling hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her butt and she gasped louder as his angle changed and he delved even deeper into her. Pleasure sparked and raged through her as she clutched at him with her hands and slippery, aroused sex. Their lips met briefly, hungrily and then parted as they both sought air to fuel their rocking, rolling, thrusting, grinding ride. He kept telling her how much he had missed her and how wonderful it felt to be with her again. She wanted to correct him, he was in her, not with her, but it felt too good as she strained to meet him with bucking hips, clenched buttocks and quivering muscles. She simply told him that, how good it was, how good he was making her feel.

The energy from her building climax sparked and crackled inside her, sending heralds of the flood of pleasure it would unleash roaming far and wide across her nerves. His lips found and latched onto her nipple, sucking and worrying at it, sending surges of delightful sensation pulsing into her chest to rev-up her heart. She lowered on foot back to the slightly shifting surface of the bed and rolled her hips forcefully to one side and shifting her weight at the same time. She was trying to reverse their positions, but it took a few attempts and finally a terse, strained verbal urging from her for him to acquiesce and they rolled with her ending up on top, on her knees, straddling him.

She closed her eyes, her head swaying on her neck as she slowly circled her hips, grinding down on him as she kept him deep inside her and adjusted to the new position she had sought. She felt his hands slide up her thighs and along the flare of her hips to lightly grasp her waist and she opened her eyes to look down at him. She found him with his head cocked slightly to the side, his eyes wide and intent on her. She pinned her lower lip behind her teeth and slowly began to rise along his shaft. She rode him slowly at first, using her hips more than her legs, keeping him filling and stirring her molten depths and keeping her clit buzzing with firm grinding pressure. She groaned and he grunted as she squeezed herself around him. She clutched at her breast, testing the flesh as he had, feeling her hard nipple press hotly into her palm.

"God, Tess Mercer, you are beautiful." Oliver told her in a hushed tone, his grip tightening on her waist and urging her to ride more of his erection. She dropped her free hand onto his chest, splaying her fingers and testing the hard slabs of muscles. She did, as he wanted, pulling herself further up his pleasure-giving staff and dropping down with rolling hips. With, the support of his hands and her own, she was soon bouncing up and down on him with lusty abandon, her hair an auburn swirling halo around her face, her breasts swaying and jiggling, skin sliding against skin when not restrained by her grasping hand. Each impact of their bodies meeting and the lancing trail of friction that preceded it pushed her closer to release. Spots danced before her eyes as she moaned and hissed her approval and enjoyment, her chest heaving, her stomach and legs starting to tremble as shocking bolts of roiling energy flared from the thunderhead of her growing climax testing the bounds of her will and flesh, tempting her to let go and taunting her with the possibility of more if she just held on.

His grip suddenly tightened on her waist and with a heavy exhalation he pulled himself up into a sitting position. His hands slid from her waist to wrap around her back, making spidery trails on her sensitive, sweaty skin. He held her close to him, her arms going around him too as they ground together, their heaving chests pressing against one another. Their faces less than inch apart, her eyes locked on hers, his breath hot and sweet against her lips. She could see his jaw clench, his nostrils flare as he fought the same battle for control she was embroiled in, yet was becoming desperate to surrender to. She was startled by the clarity and look of desire as well as tenderness in his eyes. "This was a mistake. He's reading more into this than I can give." The thought whispered and reverberated in her mind being carried and tossed about on the chaotic tide of pleasure that inundated her sense as they writhe together, bodies tensing and relaxing.

Strong fingers wound into her red hair, massaging her scalp, pulling slightly at her tresses making yet another part of her tingle. His lips caught hers, sucking and nipping, dancing a passionate tango. She felt the moment of calm that spelled the end for her, just as he broke their kiss. The quick sharp in rush of air into her lungs, the tight contraction of the energy in her core, the quick, sudden shudder of her muscles and then she threw her head back, straining against his embrace. She cried out her release as her sex locked around him in a flexing, flooding fist even as he drove up into her. She threw her arms back behind her, her hands scrabbling fro purchase on his thighs as her back arched and her body trembled with misfiring muscles that tensed and relaxed. She could feel him pulse against her core as her snatch contracted even harder, finally stalling his movement and testing the hard resistance of his granite manhood and sending another wave of pleasure blasting through her.

Her heart beat a trip hammer concerto against her ribs and her breath scorched her lungs as her orgasm rampaged through her body. Tess heard him growl, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated his chest against her breasts and she felt him swell against the super tight confines of her orgasmic sex and pump his seed into her in heavy, twitching surges. "Mercy... Mercy... Mercy!" Oliver repeated and her sex addled mind couldn't differentiate whether he was calling her name or begging for surcease to the intensity they were both experiencing. Time lost all meaning as she dropped her head onto his shoulder and closed her eyes as her climax slackened, but did not relinquish it hold on her body, which twitched and relaxed and tensed with sporadic randomness. She clung to his solid form, an anchor and in a world made chaotic by desire and pleasure.

She whimpered against his skin as he dropped back, pulling her with him, his cock shifting inside her as she came to rest on his chest, her legs straightening, sliding against the silk of the sheets as she stretched out, draped over him, limp, drained, boneless and sated. His chest heaved under her, pressing against her as he took deep breaths, his hands resting lightly on the back of her thighs. She felt a drop of sweat trickle down her spine, collecting others to form a small rivulet and she shivered slightly as her skin began to cool. Nature took its course and he shrank and eventually, inevitably slipped from the snug grasp of her sex. She felt his lips press softly to the top of her head and she sighed. His hands left her and a moment later she felt him drag the covers over then as best he could, wrapping them in a warm cocoon of smooth silk.

There would be consequences and she would deal with them in due time, but for just then, she simply luxuriated and relaxed against the comfortable heat of his body underneath her, his strong arms wrapped around her, the slowing rise and fall of his chest and her complete sexual satiation as they drifted off to sleep.

She woke with his chest rising and falling, slow and steady under her cheek. "I missed this." She thought wistfully even as she reconciled herself with that fact that it would never happen again. She got up, moving slowly, not to wake him and freezing when he stirred, keeping still until he settled. Naked, the early morning sun bathing her, she padded across her bedroom to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Memories of Oliver, both new and old played across the inside of her eyelids as she turned her face to the spray and let the water sleet down her body in a soft, warm caress. She got out of the shower and dabbed herself dry and wrapped the towel around herself. The steam from the shower had fogged up the mirror and she swiped a broad swathe clear with her hand and forearm. She stared at her reflection; strong pale features surrounded by red hair made darker by being damp framed her pale green eyes.

She searched those eyes, for a moment asking herself if she could allow for the possibility of rekindling something with Oliver Queen. The fourteen months they had spent together had been, in many respects, the best of her life, but his betrayal had hurt. Hurt more than she would ever let anyone know. It had also been the catalyst that put her on the path that had led her to this moment and her present position. "Life doesn't go backwards or standstill, it moves forward." She whispered to the red-haired woman in the mirror. It was something Lex had told her. She stared at herself until the steam reclaimed the mirror and turned her reflection hazy and indistinct.

She dried her hair and stepped back into the bedroom, taking a moment, she paused and watched him sleep, hair tussled and serene, boyish, the way she remembered from before. She'd have to be cruel and cold, hurt him like he'd hurt her. She thought she'd take more delight in that, but instead she felt a knot of regret in her stomach, not for what they had done, but for the spark of possibility she was about to extinguish. She'd simply tell him she'd had an itch and he'd scratched it and then dismiss him as if he meant nothing to her. She let out a soft sigh and dropping the towel, pulled on her red silk robe and settled in front of her dresser to get ready for her day, keeping a surreptitious eye on his reflection in the mirror, waiting for him to wake up.

THE END