*slightly vague sexual actions below*

Tuesday, May 15th. 11:35 AM.
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Alfred had sent a small plane to pick me up. I had refused to allow Clark to fly me back home, he wasn't too keen on the idea that his mother kept pressing. I sat in the back of the cab silent and listening to the radio that was non stop about Superman. The cab driver himself kept glancing back at me his thick eyebrows were up as he squinted at me. I knew he knew my face, everyone did.

The moment we turned onto my street my pulse quickened and dread settled in my stomach. In front of my building were dozens of reporters and bystanders, a few women who were holding up signs expressing their anger.

As we drove closer the words were clearer.

If you loved him, you wouldn't have moved on.

He deserves a faithful woman.

I darted my eyes away, shifting forward. The clear partition between us was open and I called to the driver, "There's an alley that has a side entrance to my building, could you drop me off there?"

The man didn't respond but there was a jolt as he sped up, and then to my dismay stopped abruptly in front of the reporters and angry mob. I sucked in a breath and turned to look at him, his face was steely and narrowed. His thin lips pulled back over crooked teeth.

"It'd be against my cause to keep you safe."

My blood runs cold at the sound of the venom laced in his words and the glare in his eyes, he reaches for something in his pocket and I shove myself out the taxi as quickly as possible. I slam the door shut and stagger from the cab. The man's cold gaze locks onto me as he waves goodbye. My heart is pounding as I watch the taxi speed away from me. I had my back to the screaming questions and angry taunts.

Clenching my first and collecting myself I let out a sigh and turn around. Immediately, I'm in the thick of reporters, their voices blending with the angry chants of the women.

"Annie, what does this mean for you now that he's back?"

"How did he take the news that you're in a relationship."

"Are you going back to Superman?"

"Now that he's alive; will the alien threat go away?"

I pushed past as many as I could rattling off a dozen no comment phrases. I could hear my name being called and see my doorman trying to push through the crowd, a sense of relief flows over me as he draws closer elbowing his way to me.

Something hits me hard from the side pushing me to the ground. Sending excruciating pain at contact with my wound bound tight by stitches. Instinctively, I raise my arms to cover my face and block a blow from a fist. Screaming for her to get off of me and for help is drowned in the clicks and flashes of lights and demands for her to stop.

Her body is heavy as she grips my shoulders, her green eyes wide and blotchy face is close, she screams at me.

"He doesn't deserve you. He should be with me!"

Terror fills me as she raises a clenched fist, but a hand grips her tightly and I see my doorman before another pair of arms wrap around her waist and throw her off me. Familiar blue eyes and a determined and angry look greet me.

"Ben!" I cry as he reaches for me. I grip his arm and let him pull me to my feet, his arms pull me close as he protectively guides us through the crowd. Our doorman cleared a path and Ben has his arm out blocking people.

"If you're not gone in ten minutes, I'm calling the cops," Ben growls at the angry crowd.

He doesn't let me go when we cross the threshold into our building.

"I'm sorry I wasn't quick enough, Miss. Westmore." I just now remember his name is John, and I watch him stare at me. His brows crinkled as his eyes ghost over my body.

I gaze at him and shake my head, "It's alright. I'm okay."

He gives a nod and steps behind the desk assuring us he was calling the police. Huddled close to his chest Ben steers me to the elevator. The ride drags as we sit in silence listening to the floors pass by before a ding announces we've arrived at our floor. I'm not even sure how we got into the apartment so fast but Ben was making quick work of getting me out of my jacket and steering me towards the kitchen.

"Sit." He says and I perch myself on the stool and watch him look for something.

"What are you looking for?" I ask feeling a sting along my temple before a rush of warmth trickles down my forehead. My fingers come up to inspect what I suspect is blood just as Ben turns back to me.

"Don't touch it. Your hands are dirty." He swats my hand away stepping up to me. He's concentrating hard as he dabs at the cut. I turn my attention to my hands. They have red powder on them, it's splattered all over my clothes too, caked into my jeans.

"What is this?"

"She threw the powder on you before tackling you. I don't want you to wash your clothes, we'll bag them for the police."

"The police?"

He steps back reaching for alcohol to clean the wound, warning me it'll sting, but I barely feel it. I stare up at him noticing that he hasn't shaved and a dark stubble has spread along his jaw. I reach up and trail my fingers along his skin, the hair is rough under my red-stained hands. He quickly places two strips to keep the wound tight and then looks down at me. There's something different about how he looks at me, but I can't seem to understand why.

"The one who attacked you has been harassing me, leaving angry voicemails and slandering your name. I don't know what the powder does but after I got hit late last night I've had a bad migraine all day. I want you to undress and place your clothes in the sink."

I watched him set the first aid kit back on the drawer, "Annie." His voice is quick and low and I glance up at him realizing I missed something.

"Sorry, I'm just- I'm ok. I'll go shower." I chirp and push off the stool headed towards our bedroom but he stops me.

"Annie. Here. Undress."

I turn to him frowning, "Here? In the kitchen?"

"You'll track the powder everywhere, trust me."
Curiously, I glance down at the wooden floor my eyes darting to the rug in the living room to the carpet I can see just inside my door to my room.

"Ok."

"I'll get your towel." Ben pushes past me his eyes not lingering on me for long before he disappears into our room. I sigh, and place myself between the island and sink, now just noticing the tears streaming down my face. With shaking hands, I pull my shirt over my head placing it in the dry sink with my jacket. My jeans are pooled at my feet and a shaking red splotched hand is hovering over my tender and sensitive wound, when Ben returns, an orange towel in hand.

We lock eyes across the room and his eyes soften taking in my shaking body. With quick strides, he is in front of me, the towel on the counter, hands on my face.

"Annie, calm down. You're going to hyperventilate."

I nod against his hands and suck in a quick breath trying to calm down, but I'm standing in my kitchen in my underwear and I feel like my heart is breaking.

"Babe, calm down."

Sweetie, calm down.

"What do you need me to do?" Ben asks,  one hand settles on my bare waist. I shudder at his touch and pull him into a searing kiss. His hand on my cheek slides to the base of my skull, fingers grazing my scalp as he draws me closer. I grip his shirt tight, spreading my hands up his neck, he pulls back.

"I thought you weren't coming back." He declares before kissing me again, his tongue brushing along my lower lip.

I gasp out a why in between kisses and he rests his forehead against mine. My eyes flutter open and Ben is smiling sadly, a thumb caressing my cheek.

"He's alive again, Annie."

A pain shoots through my heart and I gasp, "I know."

"You were gone for so long. I thought you were going back to him."

You're not mine, and I'm not yours.

"I won't blame you. If my wife was back..." He sighs and looks me in the eye.

"Ben, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."

I'm not leaving you again.

"You're not?"

I shake my head, "No. I love you, Ben." I lean in to kiss him again, hungry to show him that I chose him. Soon he's pulled me down to the cold wood of the kitchen floor our need for each other strong and impalpable as I began to undress him. Pulling his shirt over his head quickly to begin kissing him again. His skin is hot under my fingertips as I make my way down his chest to his jeans. He's quick with my bra, fingers slide down my thighs taking my underwear with them. Soon, he's kicking off his boxers and I'm beneath him, we're both stained with the red powder still on my skin, ignoring the earlier urgency to wash it off.

We come together, his forehead rests against my collar bone, sprinkles of kisses follow his lips and my arms wrap around him pulling him as close as possible, legs wrapping around his waist allowing him to love me deeper. I ignore the protest my stitches send me as my skin is stretched and my muscles shake. My fingers claw down his shoulders with each sensual thrust. I'm begging him for more, I need to feel more. His lips find mine again and I whimper when the kiss breaks for just a moment. He grabs both my hands with one of his, fingers tight around my wrist as he raises them above my head, his other hand slipping between us, my body arching into him.

Does he make you happy?

Pleasure coiled deep within me, and my thighs tighten around him, his fingers and his pace picks up; noticing my moans.

"You're mine." He grunted into my neck, his teeth scraping lightly along my skin.

"I know," I gasped as the spring deep inside uncoils quickly and all at once. I cried out his name, his hand let's go of my wrists- both grip my hips tightly. I pull him close to me as stars danced along my vision, Ben keeps his pace pushing me higher and higher yet to reach his peak.

"Yes." The words flow from me breathless and without effort. It was so much easier to say yes, I was his. I wanted to be his. He is the one I want. It hurt less to be his. Another wave crashed through me, toes curling I cried out again.

Yes.

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I can't wait to get deeper into the plot after the one for the movie comes to an end. Please, let me know what you think!!