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I’m about to enter the Gotham Diamond Exchange when he appears next to me.  

“Don’t even think about it.” 

“Think about what? What happened the last time I saw you?” I smile slyly at him.  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” My mind flashes back - three weeks ago the roof of the Gotham Museum; my legs wrapped around him, his flesh thrusting into mine, a low growl in his throat as he came. 

His jaw clenches. He definitely hasn’t forgotten.  

I was sore for three days after our rendezvous. The scrapes on my back had taken a week to heal, and the bruises on my wrists were there for longer. His little “love bite” on my neck is still a yellowish brown. But I’d liked it. I liked every last second of it. Just the thought of him hard and thick and sliding into me makes the most sensitive parts of my anatomy twinge with excitement. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want a repeat performance. 

“Turn around and go home, Catwoman. I don’t want to have to arrest you.” He’s all business and keeping me at arm’s length, avoiding getting close enough to touch me, to smell me. He figures if he can just stay far enough away from me we won’t have a repeat of last time.  

I’m up next to him before he can blink. His thighs quiver; he wants to step back but his pride won’t let him. Despite the heat racing through me, I remain perfectly still. I won’t do anything to incite his desire. I don’t know why it’s so important that this be he decision, but it is. It matters. I don’t want him blinded by lust, not this time. I want him cool-headed, in control, and hard as a god damned rock. 

Rationally, I know it would be better if we walked away. We could call what happened between us a momentary lapse in judgment. An indiscretion. A mistake we made once in the heat of battle. We could pretend it never happened. If we were to do it again, there would be no excuses, no pretending, no mistakes. If we did it again it would be because we wanted it. 

My mind goes blank as his hand finds my waist.  

“Selina...we can’t do this,” he says, his fingers spreading across the small of my back as he pulls me closer. “It’s not good for either of us.” His lips find a spot of bare flesh at my neck and he nips at it.   

“You’re right.” I wrap my arms around his neck and take his lower lip between my teeth.  

“We can’t,” he breathes before claiming my lips. His hands roam over my body; sliding over the swell in my hips, pawing the bottom of my ass, climbing up my back to pull me closer to him. He parts my lips with his tongue and I willingly give him access as I push him up against the wall. We melt into the shadows of the brick overhang above us. We use it to hide ourselves; we embody the night, become it to hide what we’re doing. This is an indulgence for us and our indulgences belong in the dark.   

He pulls the zipper of my catsuit down slowly, kissing every inch of skin as he goes. When he gets to the fading bruise on my neck he runs his tongue over it, showering it with affection. I push my body against that armor, against those dark angles, hoping he feels the pressure. When my hands pass along his groin he inhales a ragged breath, I know he can feel me. His hands find my breasts, gloved fingers tweaking my nipples through the thin lace of my bra. The texture forces a low, quiet moan from my throat and it lingers in the shadows with us.  

Every nip and lick along my neck tells me he wants nothing more than to spend hours tasting every inch of my body but we can’t. We can’t take our time; not here in Gotham, not here on her rooftops. She’s given us these few precious moments and we cannot waste them. He turns us so I’m against the wall, his hands cupping my ass and I know where he’s going with this.  

“No,” I whisper and push him back a little. I pause for a moment, relishing in his confusion, in the power I have over him for those brief seconds. I turn slowly and place my hands against the wall. I’m bent over to give him a fantastic view of my ass. I glance over my shoulder at him, my eyes half-lidded. “From behind.”  

I see him inhale, the Bat symbol rising as his broad chest fills with air. Hands on my shoulders, he pushes my cat suit down, the rubber on his gloves leaving gooseflesh on my skin. I spread my legs as far as the suit bunched around my knees will allow as he runs his hands and his lips over the back of my neck and down my spine. His hands leave me but his lips, God, his lips, they don’t stop. 

The rip of packaging fills the air followed by the small slick sounds of lubricated latex unrolling onto his sex. He’s come prepared this time, meaning he’s been thinking about this as much as I have. I get wetter with the thought. Fingers hook around my panties and they quickly fall to my knees.     

He spreads me open with his hand as he positions himself. I’m hot and throbbing and the cool air only intensifies the ripples of pleasure coiling in my belly. His tip slides along my folds before settling at my entrance. He hesitates. I try to move back on him, try to swallow him whole, but he holds me in place. I look over my shoulder at him, the irritation and need naked in my eyes as he smirks. Payback for my earlier power play. Then he drives himself into me with one solid thrust.  

My head falls forward as he buries himself inside of me. He’s big, bigger than I remember, and my eyes flutter shut. There’s nothing in my world except the fullness of my body and his steady breathing. His fingers are tight on my hips and the rough Kevlar of his suit rubs against the backs of my thighs as he moves within me. I arch my backside up so he reaches all the right spots and I let him fuck me like he wants.   

His speed increases and I gasp. My body is on fire as the familiar slow build begins deep within me. I know what I need and I reach for my clit. I’ve never been afraid to take my pleasure into my own hands, so to speak. He catches my hand.  

“I don’t think so.” His voice rumbles with lust, with pleasure. He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying me. The feeling is definitely mutual.  

“Why not?” I demand, but my words come out as strangled moans as he slams into me harder than before. He doesn’t reply. Instead, his hand releases mine and his fingers find my clit. It takes him a few seconds of experimentation to get the right spot, but when I growl in my throat he knows he’s got it. His fingers move in small gentle circles, coaxing tiny moans from between my teeth. He’s as good with his fingers as he is with his cock. I clench my internal muscles around his length and refuse to let go, ripping a moan from his throat.    

There’s an uptick in his breathing as his fingers speed up. He’s getting close but he’s holding back, waiting for me to finish. He needn’t worry. My release is heading toward me like a freight train. Heat spreads through me as the thread snaps. I lose myself; all I know is his hardness, his thrusts, and my own pleasure. The taste of blood brings me back. I’ve bitten a hole in my cheek trying to keep myself from crying out.  

His fingers flex and dig into my skin as he comes. He pulsates as he spills into the condom - for a moment I mourn the loss of the sensation filling me with his seed would bring - but I know the condom is the smartest decision we made all night. He holds me still as he shudders; his breath coming in quiet gasps, his fingers twitching as they gradually relax. There in the dark we’re still for a brief moment, my hands trembling against the wall, his quivering thumbs affectionately brushing my hips as we catch our breath.  

Reality claims us again and he withdraws. I try to hide my shaking legs as I pull my suit back on. Taking a deep breath, I collect myself before turning to face him.  

“Thanks for the good time, lover.” I say as I smirk up at him. He palms the back of my head and brings me in for a kiss.  

There are no words as we go our separate ways. He’s headed to fight crime and I, well...The night is still young and there are so many lonely diamonds in need of a good home.