Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and all associated characters are the property of their creators/corporate owners. I make no claim of ownership to that, or to any other, copyrighted material.
This is insane.
I shouldn't be here.
I'm lying here, in his bed. I shouldn't be here.
I'm just waiting for him.
Waiting for a man who is most definitely *not* my husband.
This is just wrong.
I'm Mrs. Luthor, god damnit.
I should be stronger than this.
I should be more loyal than this.
I love my husband.
I really do.
I don't love the man who's bed I'm waiting in.
In fact, I'm fairly certain I hate him.
My husband has never been anything but disdainful towards him.
It's sad, really. They are family after all.
I can hear his key in the lock.
I can hear his footsteps in the hall.
He opens the bedroom door, and just stares at me.
He removes his suit jacket, and tosses it on a chair.
He simply stands above me for a moment, looking down at me. He has that smirk on his face. It's the same expression he wears every time this happens. And god, it's happening way to often.
He looks at me like he owns me.
And maybe he does.
I hate myself.
He's a member of my family for the love of God.
Family by marriage, sure. But still. Family.
I actually met him before I met my husband. They were both at some sort of business convention at a hotel I was staying at in L.A. while my apartment was being worked on.
He smirked at me, the same way he's looking at me now.
Maybe something more serious would have happened between us. But then I met the man of my dreams. The man I married.
I am married.
But now I'm lying in another man's bed.
They are father and son. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be here.
A lot of people would tell me that I'm sleeping with the devil.
Maybe I am.
If my husband found out he might kill me.
And I mean that literally.
This has to stop.
But maybe it could last just one more night.
He smirks at me for a few more seconds, before seizing my lips in a searing kiss.
I shouldn't be here.
This is so wrong.
"Lex." The name escapes my lips in a soft moan.
I'm Mrs. Lionel Luthor.
But here I am, lying in the bed of my step-son.