Hotter than Hell

His teeth were bared as he pressed his forehead against hers, drinking in her quiet gasps, her wild eyes, the melting look of bliss on her face as her climax reached its peak and rolled on through. Selina was small atop him, but the muscles beneath her womanly figure tightened and clung to him, drawing out every last drop of his essence until he was finally spent.

When both of them were through, he kissed her, sucking on her lower lip and opening his mouth to her tongue. There was an ebb and flow to it, gradually tapering off into softer, grateful kisses that made their lips tingle, until at last they fell back, he onto his pillow, she onto his chest.

Sweaty and soaked in sex, they panted for air, exhausted, messy and immensely satisfied. She lay quiet and limp, head resting on his chest as she listened to the muffled staccato of his breath.

When they had sufficiently recuperated, she sat up and looked down at him. For a time they just looked, admiring the other, but then she reached for him. For his mask, and he flinched.

"Selina..."

"Relax, baby."

She gave him an appeasing kiss. A gentle one, then slowly, slowly, she pushed up his mask. A fraction of an inch, and then another fraction and then another. Bruce tensed up, his eyes wide, his pulse racing. Was this ok? Did he want her to remove his mask?

No. There was a part of him that longed for it, longed to share his secret, but he wasn't ready; and she'd said she would wait until he was ready, so what was she doing?

He reached for her arms but she had already stopped, hands grasping gently at his face, her eyes, so close to his, peering down at him. His mask was still firmly attached, and in total Selina had moved it less than even two inches upwards, exposing only the tip of his nose. She adored it with a kiss, slightly lingering, then leaned back to look at him again.

She said nothing, but her eyes spoke to him, telling him that he could trust her, that she was ok with waiting. But it was also a small concession. She'd finally gotten to see more than just his mouth and his jaw.

Selina laid down next to him then, and when he turned onto his side she pressed herself against his back, an arm wrapped around his waist and their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

"Good night." She paused, and her voice dropped low as she whispered into his ear. "Daddy."

She felt him stiffen before relaxing again, and though he couldn't see it, he could sense the amused smile on her face. It persisted until her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep. He followed closely behind.

Selina was gone when he woke up.

Disappointing, but not entirely surprising. Usually it was he that left, reluctantly, always reluctantly. He wondered if she'd felt that same reluctance today.

He sat up at the edge of the bed, fidgeted with his mask. It was awkward to sleep in, but even so, he was rested and loose. Thanks to Selina. The bedroom door was closed, and when he rose to open it Lucy greeted him, a waggling bundle of white fur that wouldn't be satisfied until she had been pet at least two dozen times.

The living room was neat, everything orderly and in place. Well dusted, recently vacuumed. He hadn't noticed the first time he came in. Too dark, too distracted. The only signs of disorder were the dog toys scattered about the room, and his suit lying where he had left it upon the floor. There was a note attached to his chest piece, a white piece of lined paper decorated with little cats at the corners. He took it, read it.

Good Morning, Bat

I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer but I've got places to be, you know how it is.

No, I'm not stealing anything.

Honest.

I'll be here until next Tuesday so feel free to drop by.

Feel free to use the shower, too.

Kisses,

Selina

P.S. I already fed and walked Lucy, so don't let her fool you.

P.P.S. When the mask comes off you'll wake up to a blowjob instead of a note.

It was stamped with her lips, black lipstick that made his mouth water with the remembrance of her taste. He smiled and shook his head, then followed her advice.

When he was finished showering he began the task of putting on his suit. It was only then that he realized something was missing: a single batarang. A souvenir? Something to placate her kleptomaniacal urges? No, neither of those seemed right.

He got dressed and left the apartment. The sky was pale blue, the sun was warm and gold, and somewhere out there was his batarang. It was inconsequential, he had hundreds of the things. But it was part of the game, he realized, part of the chase. It was a reason to find her.