Who Needs a Dream? Who Needs Ambition?

At that Lex raised an eyebrow. He knew something had happened to Anatoly at the club the same night he'd fought with Clark, but neither had really wanted to be forthcoming about what had happened. While he didn't push, Lex was still curious and wondered what Connor and Clark had done to Anatoly, no doubt because of his association with him. It took everything Lex had to bite back his possessiveness. "No, it seems like they weren't."

"Apparently," Lex continued, looking down at their clasped hands, "Clark wanted to try again. So he came by here yesterday morning and tried to convince me to go with him." He could still picture how beautiful Clark had looked in the morning soon, so fluid and open, the promise of everything Lex had dreamed about in the air. He swallowed to erase the image. "When I wouldn't comply, he took matters into his own hands." Being roped like a piece of cattle was still embarrassing.

"He took me to some empty hut and tied me to a chair. Then he kept making insinuations and seductions, all the while getting more and more intoxicated." It had been pure torture. Lex had wanted so badly to give in and he still wondered how he hadn't. Unconsciously, he squeezed Anatoly's hand, as if needing to be grounded.