King of the Amazons 2

Parga was a blue world, the sky a brilliant azure above it. The waters of the coast were blue and clear, while the houses built above the sand were of white stucco and blue trim. The winters were mild and the summers were warm.

Lex Luthor was ideally suited for it. He looked as if he could’ve been chiseled from marble, one of the infrequent statues dotting the public fares that had gone rogue and now wandered surroundings too idyllic to not be browsed. Some of it was nanites enhancing his body. He was in his forties, but looked little more than thirty. But Lex’s virility didn’t owe to the machines, anymore than it did to the plastic surgery he’d toyed with before them, or to his rigorous exercise regiment before that. All those were offshoots of a superlative, highly trained mind. One that could pick up an obsession, a habit, any question of will as easily as a child would play with a building block. He looked the way he did because he chose to, as he acted the way he did. Nothing was done out of laziness, convenience, or unthinking instinct. It was all a carefully crafted performance—Lex refusing any off-notes in his persona. He looked like the ultimate in human performance because he had to. No one could think his genius was a lie.

His woman, of course, would have to be just as sublime as he sees himself, as he makes himself. Naturally, he gravitates to Wonder Woman. Not just for her obvious beauty, her obvious charm, but because she’s the zenith of femininity. He hopes to see in her a reflection. The zenith of masculinity.

More than that—for five years now, Lex has been on the side of good. Choosing to better himself, to outdo his former rivals at heroism and compassion instead of underhanded deeds and strength of arms. If Diana gives into him, it will be proof that he’s earned her. Earn her, earn everything. Because Diana is nothing less than perfect and her man, therefore, can be nothing other than perfect.

There was so much striving clouding up the otherwise impeccable atmosphere of the exclusive, understated hotel where the gala was being held. So many CEOs, shareholders, titans of industry. All trying to be worthy, superior, prove themselves capable of their vast stature and not an imposter among realities. But Diana simply was. You could tell in every inch of her. Her simple flowing dress, her tautly fleshed musculature. Her every movement was bespoke with grace and elegance, actually supplanting her great beauty, the exotic sexuality that followed through on her staggering aestheticism like one punch after another. At first glance, her loveliness took your breath away—it was something akin to a white-sanded beach, a snow-capped mountain—and only after being sure such a thing existed could you then dare to desire it.

Lex’s eyes met hers. She was a discerning creature, radiating such self-assurance that it made men intimidated. Here was the great test, something that could not be bullshitted. If she found you unworthy of her time, it would be akin to nonexistence. But Diana was not an intimidator. She was looking for someone worthy of her, an equal who she could indulge in while allowing them to be indulged. Perhaps a superior… perhaps someone who would at least need a moment’s work to be undone and proven beneath her.

She could see Lex was unintimidated by her, but not whether his confidence was misplaced. And so she went to him, to exchange pleasantries, before they walked down to the beach to test each other in earnest.

***

Bruce’s room faced a garden—a spacious one-bedroom affair that seemed to grow warmer the more lights were off. The furniture was Danish, modern, with hand-rubbed walnut lamps and prints of inoffensive things on the walls. There was a heady scent of perfume in the air and even though it was Diana’s, it still tickled Bruce’s nostrils, making him quiver with a want he didn’t yet know how to sate.

Monet looked at home here, in the atmosphere of candle-light and old crystal decanters and violins. She should, of course—her room was supposed to be a mirror image of this one. She should belong here as much as Bruce did.

She went into the kitchen and came back with two full glasses. “Don’t make yourself uncomfortable on my account. Kick off your shoes if you want.” She sat down beside him.

“I’m fine,” Bruce told her, relaxed into the couch, acting more like a guest than as if this were his room, his bed.

He took the glass she offered him and drank readily. “Mmm.”

“You like? I make my gin and tonics strong. I like them that way.”

“You’re right to. I should’ve had you mix my drinks back when you worked for me.”

Monet pouted. “More work?”

“I could’ve paid you more.”

“It’s not about the money.” Monet finished sipping her own drink down and then stood up. “You don’t mind if I get comfortable, do you? I need out of this stuffy thing.”

“By all means,” Bruce said, not without a blink, because her robe was anything but stuffy. It clung to her like a second skin, stretching around her luscious breasts and toned thighs like it might rip if she didn’t move with such perfect poise.

Monet went into the bedroom as if she owned the place, leaving the door open so that she could keep talking to him. He heard the rustle as she undid her robe and gave drowning his imagination a shot by swallowing down his gin and tonic. But the thought of her standing naked a few feet away was too powerful. Bruce looked at his empty glass, embarrassed. He’d hate to put Monet out by making her think he needed liquid courage to deal with her.

Still, the alcohol did its job. The gin swirled in his stomach and melted into his blood, summoning up his confidence. Monet was giving every indication of wanting to be his. He hadn’t pressed the issue when she’d worked for him, but that was starting to seem like a mistake. She’d missed out on the worshipful pleasure he should’ve been giving to her and now she was gagging for what she now needed more than ever.

***

Diana was getting to feel dirty as Lex pushed her further against the tree and kissed more of her face. She was trying to control herself but her body was already responding to him. She pushed him back. His nanites made him almost too powerful to keep off her.

“I didn’t come out here to kiss you.”

“But you’re enjoying it,” Lex retorted. “So why not keep enjoying it?”

Diana pushed a little harder. “I have enough men in my life. I don’t need a villain.”

“How would you know? You won’t even let a villain kiss you.”

She knew she was lost taking the next press of his lips. Diana didn’t know if she could control herself around Lex. She wanted to be circumspect, to avoid surrendering too much to a man capable of such misdeeds, but her curiosity demanded to be indulged. His kisses made her feel shuddery all over. She didn’t protest as he put his arms around her.

“Worried about what Bruce would think?” he asked. “You shouldn’t tell him everything; you’d have a lot more fun. Just relax and see what happens…”

Then Lex was kissing her again. His tongue was wet, slippery. He moved it over her face and down to her neck, which he bit gently. She squeezed her thighs together, tingles of sensation making themselves known down at her core.

Lex moved his hands up her body. His fingers brushed her neck and then moved down to gently stroke her breasts. He undid the buttons of her dress, opening it to her lacy black bra.

“You feel amazing, Diana,” he said. “Your breasts are sumptuous, beautiful. I can make them feel good…”

It had to be too late for her. Diana could not marshal any resistance. His hands were moving all over her body. He undid more of the buttons in front of her dress. She didn’t try to stop him as he opened her dress to her panties. Plenty of her creamy bust almost spilled out from her heaving bra.

“Lovely,” he said. “Just lovely.”

He slipped his hands behind her, to undo her bra. Diana shifted away, but her breasts were still jostled, her bra shifting out of place. Her nipples were hard. She shivered again.

“Let me kiss them,” Lex said. “Let me taste how sweet your body is.”

His hungry mouth moved down her form. He licked across the top of her breast. His open mouth sucked on one of her swollen nipples through her bra. He pulled with his teeth at the underwire.

Diana kneed him in the balls. He was a good lover, but too persistent. He thought he could browbeat her as long as he was gentle about it. She walked off, hoping she left him in the knowledge that he’d have to convince her, not just seduce her.

Back at the party, she inquired after Bruce, but he was nowhere in sight. Monet was gone too. It wasn’t difficult to understand why. She could smell his cologne and her perfume, leading all the way back to the room.

In that moment, Bruce reminded her of Lex. Always striving, always campaigning. Only it made sense for Lex to possess such an inferiority complex. Why did Bruce, who had proved so much and already had so much to be content with, need to keep charging forward? It struck her as unworthy of him. Or, perhaps, unworthy of the man she’d thought he was.