When the night was full of terrors
And your eyes were filled with tears
When you had not touched me yet
Oh, take me back to the night we met
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
He'd left her.
He hadn't said goodbye, hadn't even told her that he was leaving. Even though he knew it might mean she'd never speak to him again, he hadn't said the words. If he had he knew he'd never have been able to leave, and he couldn't save Gotham, couldn't save her if he had stayed.
It had taken five year, five years of him training, of him being away from the city and from her before he was able to come back as the man that Gotham needed. And for five years he'd missed her, missed talking to her, missed how he felt being around her, but it was a sacrifice he had to make. One he had accepted he would likely have to continue to make even after his return to Gotham.
Selina wasn't one to let go of a grudge.
Still he hadn't anticipated the overwhelming need to see her that hit him the second he'd set foot back in Wayne Manor. Selina had never been one to linger around the Manor for long, even when she'd been living with him, but that didn't stop everything from reminding him of her. From the China vase in the hallway to the curtains of his study, everywhere he looked he saw her.
Finally, after days of trying to deny it, he'd given in.
His mornings and nights he still spent training, but during the days he let himself venture out, searching for her in the streets of Gotham. It had only taken three days of looking without so much as catching a glimpse of her, for him to realize that it was pointless. Gotham's elite criminals may still be struggling over the city's throne, but Selina had always ruled the streets. He'd entered her home the second he crossed city lines. She knew he was there, she just didn't want to be found.
Still he looked.
In the end, she'd been the one to come to him, appearing at his window one night like a shadow. Her face was masked in the darkness, but the outline of her curls against the moonlight was enough for him to recognize her instantly. She didn't say a word as she made her way into the study, the only sound in the room the familiarly crinkle of her leather jacket as she shrugged it off. It dropped to the ground with a soft thud as she crossed the room to him.
God he had so many things he wanted to tell her, so many things he wanted to ask.
"Sel-," he started, but before he could even get out her name her lips were pressed against his, silencing his words before he could even think of them. He let out a muffled noise of surprise at her action, momentarily frozen by shock, and then he was kissing her back.
Her lips were firm as they moved against his with an ease that they hadn't had when they'd been young. Gone were the gentle tentative kisses they had once shared. Instead, her lips were bruising as they molded onto his. Her mouth opened against his, her teeth skimming his bottom lip and all he could feel was warmth.
He tried to soften his lips, coax her into a slower kiss that he could be more thorough with, but she wouldn't give an inch. Instead, she bit down hard against his lip in retaliation and pulled him closer, her body pressing against his. His hands went to her hips.
There was an underlying anger in the way her lips slanted against his, a frustration that she was using him to work out. His heart sunk, guilt weighing heavily against him. He'd learned long ago that when Selina was hurt she was quick to mask any emotion with angry, and tonight he could practically feel the anger humming beneath her skin.
In the back of his mind he knew that they needed to talk, that he needed to explain, but her lips were hot against his, and god he had missed her. His hand at her waist shifted up slightly, causing it to slip under her shirt. His fingers brushed against the smooth skin of her waist. He froze, looking up to try and catch her eye, wondering if he had crossed a line.
Stubbornly she refused to meet his questioning eyes, but then her hands were at the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards, and he wasn't exactly looking at her face either.
If he had thought the brush of his fingers against her stomach had been a rush, it was nothing compared to the sight before him. The black lace bra she was wearing was simple enough, but the wide stretch of her skin it left uncovered had him swallowing hard. He had never seen this much of Selina's skin before. Tentatively, he traced his fingertips along her ribs, smiling to himself when she shivered in response.
Then suddenly her hands shoved against his shoulders harshly and he was falling back onto the couch. Before he could react, she had shrugged out of her jeans and had followed him, straddling his lap and pressing her lips against his. Her hands tugged at his shirt, urging it up. In a matter of seconds it was off and her hands were back on him, trailing down his stomach, her intention clear.
It didn't feel real. A few minutes before, he had begun to doubt if he'd ever see her again and now she was here in his lap, wearing less than he had ever seen her in before. He stayed still afraid any movement might send her running and let her hand travel further and further south, stopping only when she'd reached his belt buckle.
She paused a second then two, her lips hovering over his, her eyes closed, waiting to see if he'd stop her.
He didn't.
So she moved, taking what they both knew he would always give her willingly.
Years ago, when she'd stolen his first kiss he hadn't been able to imagine anything feeling better than the press of her lips against his. He'd been wrong. God he had been so wrong.
There was a mixture of anger and desperation underlying her movements, a vulnerability that she hid in the impersonal way she shifted against him. She refused to meet his eyes, her head tilted back as she moved above him. So he watched her, watched the bead of sweat trickily down her neck, the flush on her skin, and the bounce of her curls as she moved.
It was too much. He wouldn't last long.
Not that it mattered. Moments later she was tensing around him, her nails digging into shoulder blades and that was all it took to break what little control he still had.
Before he could fully process what had just happened, before he even had a chance to catch his breath, she had already gone. Slipped through his window back into the night, she had left him alone, questioning whether she had ever even been there.
The next day he'd tried searching her out, hoping that the previous night had been a sign, that she would let him find her this time.
She hadn't.
Eventually he'd given up and retreated to his study, waiting there until the last of the daylight had long since bled out, and his eyes were dropping closed from exhaustion. In the end sleep had won out, and he'd drifted off, sitting upright on the couch in his study.
It wasn't until hours later that he woke to the weight of her against his lap and the warm press of her thighs against him. Like before she didn't say a word, just set to work silently removing the clothing between them without making eye contact
It was still dark outside, but one glance at the nearby clock told him that the night had nearly passed. Briefly, as her hands went to his belt, he wondered why she'd been so late; if it was because she couldn't have been bothered to come earlier or if maybe, just maybe she'd tried to stay away and couldn't. The thought sent a spark of hope surging through him.
Maybe then she would stay.
A second later she was sinking down onto his lap her head tilted back, and he knew that she wouldn't.
She sighed, her fingers running through his hair and started to move against him. He shook his head. He needed to focus, on this, on her, not about how fucked up this whole situation was.
If he could give her this, if he could make her feel good now, remind her how it could feel to be with him, then maybe it would be enough. Maybe nights with her would be enough.
Her nails scratched along the back of his neck as she leaned even closer to him, her body brushing over his just a bit more. His arms tightened around her back and he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
He couldn't do it. Not like this.
Not when he hadn't even properly seen her yet.
He just needed to see her once.
Using his hand that was resting against the small of her back, he traced up her spine before tangling his fingers in his hair. With a slight tug, he tilted her head forward, trying to catch her eyes, but she wouldn't even give him that. The second he brought her face to his she surged forward capturing his lips in a bruising kiss, disorienting him. He couldn't help it.
He'd spent so long trying to remember what having her lips on his had felt like that the reality of actually kissing her again was addicting. She moved her hand to grab his bringing it up to her chest in a move he was sure was meant to distract him and it almost worked. He could feel his control wavering.
He could have spent hours like this, getting lost in the feeling of just being with her, but they were hours that he didn't have. Selina would disappear again without so much as a trace long before he'd ever be done kissing her.
With what little was left of his will power, he tried one last time to pull away from the temptation of her lips so he could see her. He should have known better. As soon as she felt him begin to pull back she yanked her lips from his only to bury her face in the crook of his neck.
Her breath was hot against his skin as she panted into his neck, her hands tangled in his hair, keeping him pressed tightly to her. He didn't bother fighting her this time, merely letting her keep him close, shuddering when she moved to press her mouth against his neck. He let himself get lost in the feeling of her mouth moving against his skin, her teeth nipping at the spot, until suddenly she was biting down as she came undone around him.
Her body melted against his, limp, sated and warm. He could still feel the spot where her teeth had pressed against his neck. It would leave a mark but he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he let himself savor the feeling of her weight against him before her inevitable disappearance.
She didn't disappoint.
One second her body was molded against his, pliant and soft, and the next every inch of her warmth against him was gone. He didn't even bother to open his eyes. She was gone.
He sighed. After all these years, he had finally had her and yet now he wanted her more than ever.
God he wanted her.
Hey guys. So this is just going to be two chapters and I'm mostly done with the next chapter but reviews have been scientifically proven to help me edit faster. Just saying.