The Batman Beaten Ch 02

The water runs down his arms, his back. He wills it to soak through his skin, wash away her taste, the feel of her body against his, the tight sensation of her thighs straddling around him. But this is not Bruce Wayne's first shower in the last two days. Or his fifth.

Chemical analysis of his blood showed traces of more than two dozen toxins and plant byproducts still lingering in his system. Best estimate was that it would take more than a month for his body to fully purge them all and attempts to synthesize an antidote had so far gone nowhere.

But as he lifts his face to the spray and closes his eyes to the rushing warmth he allows himself to admit what he hasn't been able to say aloud. He doesn't want an antidote. He doesn't want his system cleansed of her power and her potion and her, her essence. He wants her. He wants to feel her wrapped around him again, listen to the moans, taste those perky, musky nipples on his tongue.

He looks down, opens his eyes. He's hard. It comes and goes, has for the last two days. Whatever she'd dosed him with was at least three times as potent as Viagra. And he wanted more. He needed it.

Nothing could get her out of his mind, not three hours on the weights or a 10 mile run or a Class A training simulation with all the safety settings completely disabled. He knows it's the toxins but he can't make himself care, can't forget that taste or that rush. He needs to work her out of his system the only way he can think of.

The water stops with a hiss as he waves his hand over the motion controls. He stands there for a moment, breathing in the steam and imagining it's her scent. He steps out of the shower, grabs a towel and wipes it across his broad chest and up his arms, imagining she's toweling him off.

Tactical thinking and a plan of action have been pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind as he plods into the main chamber of the batcave. The only thing on his mind is his need. Nothing else matters.

"Computer."

"Yes, Batman?" replies a cold metallic voice. He wishes it was hers.

"I need the whereabouts of Isley, Pamela."

The screen flashes as he drops the towel and slips on his boxers and then begins to pull on his armor. Numbers scroll across the corner of his vision as the computer interrogates police reports and scans bank accounts. His pants are nearly on when it spits out an answer.

"Two likely locations identified Batman," the computer says.

"Show me."

--

A cool breeze sweeps across the rooftops of Gotham. Poison Ivy stares out across the skyline, a pair of binoculars laid down on the parapet next to her. Her left hand runs up her bare right arm. She sighs before picking up the binoculars and peering out at her target again. The details flit about her conscious but her mind is far away. The job was what she wanted but what she needed, well that was something else entirely.

She puts the binoculars back down, brings a hand to her chin.

"Ivy" a voice says.

For a moment the world stops. And then she spins around to confront the silhouette behind her, soaking in the darkness like he's part of it. She backs up against the parapet, looks around for somewhere to run but there's nowhere to go.

"What do you want Batman?"

He steps forward, leaving just a foot between his armor and the leaves that barely cover her body. They stand there for what feels like forever before he finally speaks. "You belong in prison," he manages to growl.

She can't help but smile at her soon-to-be-captor. "Oh but I do so like handcuffs." She tilts her arms forward, hands lightly closed, palms up. "Well?" she asks.

A black gauntleted hand reaches out but stops a centimeter from hers. For the first time she looks into his eyes. Something there... what is that?

And then he's against her, cold armor against bare skin. "But I'm not here to arrest you," he says. She doesn't have a chance to reply before his mouth meets hers and she no longer cares for words, just the taste of his tongue and the feel of his jaw.

He drinks from her lips, soaking in her scent as he wraps his arms around her waist. She's been this close to him before, even clothed, but she's never felt the gentle side of his strength. A hand trails down to her ass and squeezes it tightly.

Before she knows what's happening she's in the air, lifted against him without the slightest hint of effort, their lips still locked. He pulls away from her mouth to work his lips against the softness of her neck. As he does she can feel his body shift. The stars twist in the night sky above as he carries her over to a raised block before throwing her down on it.

"My, my Batman..." she doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence as the black figure climbs on top of her. Their lips meet again for a long moment. His tongue laps itself against hers. She bites his lower lip. She tries to grab at his armor but his hands trap her wrists and pin them down above her head. The Dark Knight is in charge, completely.

His lips leave hers and he works them down her neck, still pinning her wrists down as he kisses her chest until he meets the folds of leaves keeping him from her breasts. "Mm," she manages as he kisses her. "I think you missed me lover."

In a moment her wrists are free and she feels his hands tearing at what kept him out. It doesn't take him long to leave her bare before him, breasts and hair splayed out. "You're good with your hands, aren't you Batman?" she manages before he's on her again, lips finding her nipples and suckling like a man dying of dehydration.

She moans softly as his lips work one breast and then the other, cold black hands massaging them. "Ah," she says. His lips trail south, nibbling at her taught stomach as he goes before finding her pussy. His tongue laps at her, sticks it deep inside her warmth and works it around.

"Oh god," she says. And he's not done yet. His tongue continues to explore her until slowly, maddeningly slowly, it finds her clit and Ivy loses whatever control she had left. "Ah, ah, ah!" She cries out as his tongue works her, lapping up and down and in circles and all she knows is the explosion building across her body. She screams, hands grabbing at anything she can find to hold her down, keep the rush from carrying her away...

Her body jerks and rocks, her mind blank, incapable of thought beyond the pleasure for long moments. When she finally stops thrashing she realizes she can no longer feel his touch. She manages to sit up enough to see him ripping off his cloak and armor with violent need. "Would you like some help?" she coos.

He steps forward, climbs on top of her, sweat on his naked muscles, his body bare except for the mask. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. Their lips meet and in a moment she feels him, his rock hard cock slamming inside of her. "Oh god Batman..." She moans as he fucks her, plunging in and out with so much force she forgets where her body ends and his begins. Her hands grip his back as he continues to pound and pound and oh god...

The Batman exhales all at once, "ahh" he manages as she feels him well and explode inside her. Their lips meet again, more gently this time, soaking in each other's scents before he pulls his face away from hers. They pant for few moments, his cock still resting comfortably inside her.

Her hands come around to his chest, pressing against the muscle. She looks him in the eye, words finally forming in her mouth. "I told you you'd like it," she says.