Taken in the Night Ch. 02

Barbara clung tight to the headboard as Bruce churned himself inside her like a man possessed, stoking the fires of Barbara's furnace-hot sex. As the pain died down and the pleasure grew, his strokes grew longer, more vigorous. He undulated his body, almost serpentine—bodily pulling his cock out—letting it rush back in.

His hands dove under her body, to her silken-layered breasts, where his powerful fingers dug in deep. He crushed them in his strong grip. Barbara felt a mixture of pleasure and pain that was just right, just perfect.

Bruce was unafraid of hurting her now, hammering into her lustfully, grunting, groaning with exertion. He thrust so hard that he bounced her between his crushing body and the bedspread, her clit rubbing soothingly on the body-warm silk comforter. She bucked wantonly with each enjoyable ripple e that came from it, not meeting his thrusts so much as fighting them, and yet it brought her so much more pleasure than staying still. Barbara came within three minutes of being entered.

Bruce stopped, still hard, painfully hard really, resting with his belly pressed against her upturned ass. He kissed her cheek, tasting the sweat pouring down it, and withdrew from her. Long seconds of her cunt emptying out, the delirious friction actually prolonging an afterglow that was almost as good as her climax.

Barbara rolled over onto her back, feeling like she'd just been through an hour of hardcore fighting in a hundred and eighty seconds. "God help me..." she muttered.

Bruce was still looming over her. He'd barely broken a sweat. He brushed the hair from her eyes, cupped her face lovingly. She moaned desperately, out of sheer lust, and his mouth was glued to hers. His skilled tongue moved past her lips and into the barrier of her small, white teeth, seeming to taste her as she laid under him. Then he raised above her again, propped up on the strong arms steepled to either side of her.

"Say you want me to fuck you again," he rumbled, his voice pouring down his body to electrify it where it was meshed with hers.

Barbara could not speak. Her wet, pink lips could part only slightly, wordlessly begging him to kiss her again. Fuck her again. Have her, again and again and again. She reached up her beautiful black lingerie, feeling the expensive material that massaged her body, and undid the shoulder straps. Pulled down the basque and showed him the pale fullness of her breasts.

She'd seen him stare in many different ways at many different ways, but there was a kind of awe in him now that he'd never seen before. He was enraptured by her proud white breasts, her reddish brown nipples, even the pale blue veins that ran the breadth and width of her creamy flesh. Barbara wondered if he couldn't resist sinking his hand into her left breast or if he just didn't want to.

Underneath him, her slender thighs spread, left leg pointing to one bedpost and right leg to its opposite number. The swollen pink lips of her vulva emerged from concealment, but Bruce's awareness of her wet need grew only slowly. He was far too occupied with the smooth feel of each succulent curve that topped her body, every facet of her taste and pleasure when his lips met hers. But eventually, her offering and his rigid desire could not be ignored any longer. His hands lovingly saddled the familiar contour of her hips, making Barbara wince with the memory of the deep-set bruises he had left the last time. She wanted them again.

Bruce physically pulled her down the bed to his waiting cock, keeping motionless as his knob parted her quivering lips. Barbara threw back her head in instant sobbing pleasure, and only Bruce quickly placing his hand in the way kept her from bumping her skull against the headboard. He cupped the crown of her head, holding that in place too as he dragged on the actual garters of her lingerie, forcing her onto him, forcing her sex open as he pulled her body to his groin.

Her eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open again, surprised twice by the inexorable passage of his engorged prick inside her. Barbara was stretched impossibly far, and then further, and the pain never came. Only convulsive, trembling gratification that wracked her body, rendering her powerless, thoughtless against the obscene power of his physicality.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his words gnarled by pleasure.

She nodded her head frantically.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

She nodded once more. It was good pain. Sweet as adrenaline, savory as her own blood in her mouth. Who else could understand that but him?

Jogged by his pumping hips, Barbara whimpered in unadulterated enjoyment. Even half-dressed, she felt utterly exposed to him in her shameless delight, her swollen nipples, her dripping sex. She lifted her sweet pink lips to his, sharing her delight and finding it matched by his bestial pleasure.

The kiss grew and heated, neither of them stopping for breath as her pussy spasmodically pulled at his achingly hard erection, as it slammed deep inside her with bone rattling results, as he fucked her and fucked her until she came and came. Barbara sobbed out her bliss, tears rolling in fat dollops down her face as he gave into her pleasure with thick spurts of fire hose power. But she was most aware of his hoarse breath in her ear—his body satisfyingly defeated as their bodies quivered and shook together with the same powerful feeling.

One last shudder of need as he retreated from her sopping-wet pussy, one last pang of hunger as he kissed her lips, then he fell beside her, opening up his body for her to rest her head against his shoulder in sighing bliss.

"Next time," Barbara breathed, "I want you to come on my skin. Mark me..."

And without any more to do or say, she simply slept.

***

Barbara was woken up by something covering her face. She rolled out of bed, hit the floor feet first, and came up in a fighting stance before she was fully awake. Then she saw it was her costume.

Batman was standing there, approving but still reproachful. "Good instincts. But you should pick a better hiding place for your uniform. A simple car thief could've found it."

She looked him over. In costume. And outside, the Batsignal was shining like it was just another facet of his world she'd come to see.

Barbara dressed quickly, glancing at Bruce frequently and feeling him watching her just as often. As she zipped up the costume, she went to Bruce and kissed him softly on the lips.

"I'm going to see you again?" she asked hotly, and nodded to the bed so he knew what she meant.

"If you want to," he replied. Then he was moving out, assuming she would be following him and rightfully so. "I'll show you the subway tunnels. They'll help you move around the city undetected."

"I also accept flowers," she told him.

The way he looked at her was warmer than before. But just a tidge. Most probably wouldn't even notice.

Good.