Traces of their Passion
All characters belong to Christopher Nolan and DC Comics
I do not own these characters
The heat of his soft lips gently sinks into the empty curve of her neck, she becomes a captive underneath his slender frame, scarlet full lips parted, moist and spicy as she pulls out a hum of blissful contentment. She feels the rush of heat, sinking in through her cold body.
Heart thaws.
He is gentle, fingers stroke through the mazes of her chocolate strands, as he stares down at her with molten and veils of shadow. The golden flecks of his eyes go away within the pools of temperance green.
Desire.
She leaves him to dominate her senses, he comes to her skin with soothing heat. As it discharges from his fingers.
Her lithe, shapely body is a masterpiece, black velvet dress with bare shoulders that highlight in the flickers of candles. She arches her back off the cushions, breathing in the splendor of wine, lingering taste of Italian plays on over her oral cavity, stomach curves as her long strands of hair fan over the cushions, almost meeting the floor.
She arrests him, no thought of releasing him into the shadows. Her nails polished with the gloss of what runs in her veins dig into the broadness of muscle on his dense shoulders. The pads of her fingers feel the collections scars covering his drenched skin.
Her dark eyes tight, she smirks and feels the weight of his body enveloped over hers.
Her dark eyes close, she smirks and feels the weight of his body enveloped over hers. She becomes lost, distant in thought. The gray mists of her soul dance under the layers of material body and ivory.
Stay with me. Never let me be alone.
Her body hums the hidden confession.
Never.
His body responds.
They are two wayward souls, captives in a stale and lonely world.
He sees her pain.
She takes his way.
" You don't have to go," He drops a sinecure gaze into her dark brown eyes. " You're safe." He suddenly gets trapped by the devilish sparkle in her stare, and moves her hand through his effortless of tousled chestnut locks, the heat of his sculpt between her clenched fingers.
Comfort.
" I'm not planning to, Wayne." she purrs, rubs her finger slowly over his lips. "We can worry about tomorrow when it comes. For now let's enjoy the night."
" Good. I've never been a morning person." he growls. The some deep, haunting voice that makes jolts of electrifying heat in her veins.
By the look of fiery hunger in his embers of hazel, she knew he intended it. She felt her chest burn as his piercing hazel eyes seared through her.
" I've always been more like a night person." she replies, little breath moves heats over his jaw.
" So do I," He gruffly responds, his somber face becomes warm with an infectious grin.
She feels a spark of a smile cross over her lips, knowing... He wasn't lying.
Within seconds their hungry lips devour and move with fierce heat, and darkness blankets over them as they become one shadow in the dark.