Battinson/Catwoman Romance - Lick His Wounds
Facesitting
Dirty ass fanfic by valucia
Bruce rode his batcycle through the lifeless cement tunnels. Though he was shielded from the rain, the heavy dampness hung in the air: inescapable. He arrived in the Batcave, parked his bike, and took off his mask, running a hand back through his hair, matted to his forehead with sweat. The black makeup he wore around his eyes under his mask made it hard for anyone to tell how tired or tortured he felt, including himself.
Alfred turned around from the map he was looking at on a table.
"Your guest is still waiting for you upstairs," Alfred said lightly, his gaze aimed at Bruce over his reading glasses.
Bruce said nothing and appeared stony faced. This guest was an intensely private topic. He stepped into the Batcave's shower quickly and then put on a robe. He was not in the habit of walking through Wayne Manor in the Batsuit.
In the elevator on the way up, Bruce frowned skeptically to himself. Alfred had reached him out on patrol about half an hour ago.
"It appears a certain petite woman in all black is trying to enter your bedroom window. I take it this is nothing to be concerned about?" he had asked Bruce.
"Let her go in," Bruce had replied in a low, gravelly voice.
He had known Selina for two years now. She had left Gotham City after the seawall flooding, but did return occasionally to start trouble. Rooftop kisses turned into hot rooftop sex followed by intense pillow talk. Selina was always tugging at his dark side, encouraging him to lose hope in Gotham and reopen the old wounds of his parents' deaths.
But she could also be a fiercely dedicated seeker of justice, but only for her kind of justice. Over the years, she had become a better fighter. A more sophisticated detective. A valued confidant and partner who could understand how lost and lonely the world could be.
Bruce pushed open the door to his bedroom. The rain steadily drummed against the window panes. Only the source of light came from the city's billboards and streetlights. He saw that she had made his bed for him before arranging herself on top of it. Her mask and gloves laid on the nightstand and she was curled up gracefully hugging a pillow. She lifted her head.
"I've been waiting for you," she told him. Her dark eyes were lined heavily, like a feline Cleopatra. Her lips had a light frosted pink color to them. Her toasted almond complexion looked dewy, her expression erotic and slightly disdainful. "I would have thought you would respond faster to a security breach."
Bruce took a few steps towards his bed and came to a halt. He wasn't going to bother defending his security system or his response time to her. His amber-brown eyes, still partly surrounded by the smudged black makeup, just stared at her. What was she doing here? What did she want?
"Bruce, I know you're still upset about that heist in Sicily. I'm not going to try to convince you that it was necessary. I promise no one will get hurt anymore," she said, rolling on to her side and gently resting her palm against her hip, all of her body encased in black leather that looked like it was painted on. Half of Bruce's mouth bent into a frown. He had heard that before.
"If you know I'm upset, I don't know why you've come. You've never been over here before," he said. He glanced around the room. He hadn't cleaned it in days and wouldn't permit Alfred to do it for him. This was a different setting-- in his personal life-- and she was here without an invitation.
"I heard about what happened yesterday," she cooed. She elongated her arms and legs in a deep stretch and then blinked at him slowly. Her eyelashes waved slowly like a fan of peacock feathers. She always could look regal and intriguing, no matter what. "And I thought you would want to come home and lick your wounds..."
"I don't--" Bruce began to stay sternly. But in a flash, Selina stood herself right in front of him. She took the securely-fastened belt to his dark robe and pulled it towards her as she stepped back in the direction of the bed. She pursed her lips and blinked innocently, like she felt sorry for him for feeling any resistance to her intentions.
"This is a hard life, Bruce... you need to take comfort from someone," she whispered. They stopped at the edge of his bed and she pushed him backwards on to it. He looked at her disapprovingly, but she could see a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "There... there... you just lay back, baby..." she continued, caressing his face with her artful hands and their pale, witchy fingernails.
Bruce gave a silent sigh and looked away from her, but this didn't discourage her in any way.
"Like I said, you need someone to help you lick your wounds," she murmured while her fingers widened the opening of his robe and ran up and down his chest. There were several scars raised on his pale skin, on his tight pecs and abs. Selina gave him a look that told him he was going to object to her next move but she didn't care in the slightest. She slowly brought her face close to his skin and let her tongue explore a jagged line of scar tissue.
Bruce's skin had gotten cold in the walk from the shower to his room. Now, goosebumps were rising all over his torso. Her warm tongue lapped up and down his scars while she blinked warmly, like a cat. He felt the beginning of arousal in the pit of his stomach. Should he just tell her to stop this? He should. He really should. But the only sounds in the room were the pattering of rain and the wet sounds of her tongue against his flesh. Her body heat soothed him.