Amaranthine
Chapter 7
Rebirthing
"Rebirthing now. I wanna live my life, wanna give you everything. Breathe for the first time now. I come alive somehow." – Skillet
Counting down the days had become extremely annoying for Camille. After the first three she was done, and simply immersed herself in her training, and her other tasks such as housecleaning and preparing medicine for Bane. She kept herself so busy that she wouldn't even have time to glance at the clock or the calendar, wishing fourteen days would go by quickly so that she could feel like herself again. Completely.
For the next two weeks until Bane returned home, Camille worked herself to the bone. To the point of continued exhaustion.
Every day she ran her miles, ate the appropriate amount of food, lifted the correct weights, and practiced her combat routine. She even put on her bindings, only thinking for a split second that she could get away without them because Bane wasn't there. But he wanted to see more progress, and she found that she definitely wanted to show him. So, almost regrettably, she shimmied into them and began the training that would consume her until she was no longer alone.
Now, as sweat trailed down her body, as her breath panted from her lungs while she practiced her high kicks onto a punching bag, was the time when she could think.
She wondered what would happen when Bane came home. She found that she desperately wanted to see him, and wanted even more for things to finally be okay between them, something it hadn't been for months. She was tired of fighting, tired of keeping things from him because she was too worried about his feelings and her own obligations towards him. She just wanted things to go back to normal, because she didn't think either of them could survive each other if they weren't.
Camille switched legs, sent her kicks high into the bag and thought about their last conversation.
She couldn't explain the sadness that consumed her every time the face of the woman who'd tortured him came to her mind, when she knew that that woman was on his own. Talia al Ghul had severely messed him up, and Camille, even as a psychiatrist, didn't know if she could fix him from it. It was very hard for Bane to coexist with a woman who wasn't his past love, and she knew from experience that it was very odd indeed. But Bane had to be fixed. One way or another, sooner or later down the road, she had to heal him completely. She could no longer live contently with knowing that she still entered his mind, in whatever form, be it little girl or lovely woman. Camille would destroy her once and for all, and finally, after soon very long, set him free.
She had to. Because Bane had become so very, very important.
Camille thought again as she trained about how exactly Bane felt for her. She knew he wanted her, knew he lusted for her. She knew that he even liked her. But if there was anything else underneath all of that, she couldn't know. She'd always been a terrible judge of character when it came to the feelings of others for her. It was the reason why she'd stuck around with a family who abused her and didn't want her, and had married a man who had done the very same thing. So trying to pinpoint Bane's feelings for her was one of the most confusing things she'd ever thought about.
He obviously wanted to keep her around for the long-run. She'd known him for over a year now, had been living with him for just about the same amount of time. Before they'd even started her training they had made a somewhat odd agreement to be monogamous. Camille would never, ever go to another man now while she was with Bane, and she knew that he was a man of his word when it came to her. They were almost, in a strange way, married.
Camille didn't know if Bane loved her. And if she were honest with herself, she'd never even thought about it before their last confrontation. No one had ever truly loved her in her whole life, so she wasn't all too sure what exactly it felt like. She just went through the days, in this odd monogamous relationship with a masked mercenary, and could only know what was in her own heart.
And from being so damaged by the feeling, she wasn't sure how to handle any of it.
Bane was her rope. And she knew she was his. Always pulling each other out of the hole because no one else had ever done it. Always pulling, and never letting go.
Maybe it wasn't love, and maybe it was. But it was better than where they were before each other.
And as the days turned into a week, and then another, Camille had forgotten when exactly Bane was supposed to come home, and simply waited patiently for him.
The business that had taken him away had turned into a job. A job that both he and his men had agreed to, and a job that had paid extremely well. A job that had everything to do with the League of Shadows.
Bane wondered, on the drive back home, what Ra's al Ghul would think if he saw now that the new Demon Head was the very monster he'd despised.
In a very remote part of Pakistan, a town there had become terribly corrupt, the Middle Eastern equivalent of Gotham City. Run by a dictator that had even squashed the innocence of small children, the League had tortured him, murdered him, and had wiped that town clean from the map. No longer existing, no longer tainting the world and causing unbalance.
But now the job was done, and he was returning home. Soon, they would go back to Gotham and finish their work there. Work that was no longer a destiny of Ra's al Ghul's, but completely his own. Gotham would burn once and for all. It had to. And that was that.
He didn't want to question himself.
It had been two long weeks, even with a few added days, and Bane wondered what he would return home to.
No longer would he live in unease in his own home. No longer would he allow Camille to keep her feelings bottled up inside her, ready to fester and infect him too. They had both set a goal, and he would refuse to allow a year of their lives to be wasted on something trivial such as fighting. He would see that goal through. He would turn Camille into a soldier and keep her by his side. He had already claimed her as his own so very long ago. And now he had given her that same authority over himself.
I am yours.
Bane would never allow her to compare him to Jackson Lane. And… he should keep Camille and Talia separate as well. He had once belonged to Talia al Ghul completely, ever since she'd been a small child. But it was time to feel something different. It was time to be free and live again.
It was time to go home, and force things to be okay between him and Camille because they couldn't keep going on like they used to be before he'd left.
Bane walked up to his home, through the humidity of Indian autumn morning, and thought of all the things he would say to Camille once he found her. He would tell her that the words he'd written in the note to her should be enough, and that they would be content because of them. He would tell her that it was no longer a time for sadness and dishonesty, and that it would be just like when they'd first arrived. He would yell at her again if he had to, demand that she be okay with him again. So many things to tell her, to command of her. Bane searched the house with adrenaline running through his veins, shredding his jacket so that his skin could breathe through the black shirt, feeling an odd high that the war between them would be over because he would demand that it be over.
He found her in the office that had become her work area when preparing his analgesics for him, wearing yet another one of those alluring dark dresses as she fiddled with various tools that would keep him sustained medically.
Bane stared at the back of her, and all his previous words vanished from his mind.
He could smell her from here, that wonderful floral scent of his female. That pale skin all clean, her hair so long, so curly, and so dark. He could only imagine what color those pouty lips would be, what those black eyes held when he was finally able to look at her face. He'd only been gone a little over two weeks, and it felt like two years. He'd survived without her for much longer than that, but now it seemed different. It was different because he'd gotten so used to her being around for him, whenever he would need her, whenever he would see her or hear her voice. Their bond had been broken, but now he needed it back. Bane didn't want her to be sad, he wanted her to be strong, capable, and willing in every way. He needed her, because she was his.
Because he was hers.
Camille looked off to the side a little, knowing he was behind her in the doorway but couldn't seem to turn to face him or to speak. She still wasn't sure how he was feeling towards her. A note was one thing, but reality another. She didn't want to fight with him anymore, she only wanted to feel him. She wanted to be with him again because she couldn't live without him. She heard the sound of his heavy boots approaching her back closer, that loud, intimidating sound that could make men cry in fear. Camille stood still, perfectly still until he was standing right behind her. Her heart thumped in her chest, and almost stopped completely when she felt his hands on her hair.
Bane ran his hands down her curls, those long, coarse curls that always used to get in the way when he would try to sleep. He missed the feeling of her hair, missed grasping it at night because he needed the lifeline. He took her hair into his hand, lifted it to his mask to breathe her in. He thought of all the things he'd said to her before he left. Things like how he could hate her, things like how he possibly didn't want her anymore. And other things like how maybe she should leave. But she couldn't leave. If she did then he wouldn't know what to do anymore. Something gripped inside his chest, something terrible because of all those things he'd said. But he had to make it right, because neither of them could continue to live this way. Bane moved her hair over her shoulder, slid his arms around her waist, buried his face in her neck because he just needed to have her close. No longer distant, no longer kept at bay. Just here, right now.
Emotions swamped her, making her stiff, almost making her cringe. But Camille grasped at his arms, held him close to her because she couldn't bear to be anything but. How could they have been so distant? How could they have said such terrible things? To be with him was to be alive. To have him close was to finally breathe. Bane held her back against his chest tightly, and murmured something to her. Something that made her chest swell, something that eradicated the unease completely.
"I'm sorry."
And just like that, the pain in both their chests disappeared.
He had never said that to her before. The closest he'd ever come to was giving her a flower when he had struck her in rage. But she heard the words now, words she thought she'd never hear, words that were so small but meant so very much. Instantly she forgave him. Instantly, everything was finally okay. Camille spun around, wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Bane lifted her onto the desk behind her so that she could be more level with him, and sunk into her.
All hers. It was all she could think, over and over again because it meant everything. Her world, her heart. Everything she'd left for this man meant nothing, meaningless to her now. Camille took his masked cheeks into her hands, and kissed the tubes that covered his mouth, kissed his cheeks, kissed his eyes, kissed him everywhere because she had neglected them both the feeling for so long. He'd told her that she didn't kiss him anymore. All she knew was that she had to make up for it now. Bane closed his eyes against her lips, simply felt the feeling of her kisses everywhere, soft little pecks of her pouty mouth along his neck now that he hadn't felt in forever. He placed his hands on her thighs as her lips kissed him everywhere she could, almost frantically, almost desperately.
"I'm sorry too," she said softly, running her hands along his shoulders as she kissed his hissing mask again because she couldn't kiss his lips. "I'm so sorry."
Bane slid his fingers underneath the hem of her dress, just to feel the skin he hadn't touched this way in weeks. He looked at her smeared red mouth, then up into her eyes, and saw the bright whiskey color in them from the morning sun outside.
"I don't tell you you're beautiful."
Camille rubbed her lips together, took a deep breath and shook her head. "I shouldn't have said that—"
"When we first met, I once told you that you resembled Snow White," he said, cutting her off because he knew, for whatever reason, that it meant something for her to hear it. He thought back to that time in the asylum, when she had been nothing more than an unwanted doctor forced on him by the government. Now she was here, as his soldier and as his woman. "Snow White… is the fairest of them all. And you look just like her."
A few weeks ago he'd told her that he didn't want her because he had been so upset. And it had been the worst thing she'd ever heard. Hearing this now, hearing these words that she had wanted because it was oddly important to hear it from him… Camille realized that they were the most precious words she'd ever been given. Her breath stopped, her heart pounded. No one had ever said something like that to her before, even Jackson when she'd been his wife. She didn't know how she should react to these words. All she could do was believe him. Camille smiled up at him, pulled him close so that she could kiss his mask and his skin some more. Such precious words, and all she wanted to hear from him.
Bane ran his hands farther up her thighs underneath her dress as she kissed him. Camille slid her fingers beneath his shirt to feel the thick, raised scar on the back of his neck. Suddenly he wanted her. Suddenly he needed to feel all of her against him. Camille felt his desire, allowed his hands to wander up higher on her legs. She opened her mouth to tell him he could have her here if he wanted, but then she cringed a little as she heard more footsteps walking through their home, and the soft voices of others. Bane looked behind him, then back at her and sighed at the sounds of his men.
"They will be working here for a few hours today," he told her softly, pulling the skirt of her dress back down her thighs regretfully. "But I will have you later, if you wish."
Camille eyed some of the men behind Bane as they walked by with busy steps, tried to see if their faces matched his second in command who always seemed to be sneering at her. But they paid her no mind at all. She ran her hands down Bane's chest, absently looked over to the calendar hanging on the wall, and noted the date.
"It's my birthday today."
Bane raised his brows some, realized that he had been around for her last birthday. He had been in severe pain, the worst day he'd had at the time, and she had disobeyed her boss's orders and given him sleep medication so that he could rest through the worst of it. It seemed like so long ago, but at the same time felt like just yesterday. How could she have done something like that for him after he'd tried blowing her city to hell? He had almost killed her and yet she'd given him rest. But maybe fate knew they'd end up here. Maybe, she would have always left her home behind to follow him.
"You are twenty-eight."
Camille rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."
He smiled underneath his mask. "You are still young. You are an old soul in your mind, but still young in body. I'm afraid I have no idea how old I am." Bane then sobered his face when he looked back into hers, and felt like they still needed to talk about what had happened. He didn't want another repeat, and knew, from experience, what they needed to do to keep it from happening again. He couldn't live in unrealized turmoil with this woman, not like how he had with the last one. "Enough suffering," he told her softly, repeating her own words from so long ago. "Talia had not given me honesty and mutual respect. I ask those things from you now. We cannot coexist the way I hope for us to if there is no trust. And… I trust you." Bane reached up, rubbed his thumb underneath her bottom lip to wipe away some smeared red lipstick. "I only hope you continue to trust me, as well."
Camille looked up at him, and knew things had to change. It would be hard, for the both of them, but they had to do it. So that they could survive. Past relationships would not tarnish them, they would have to stop it. And to do that, she would do what he asked of her because it was the only way they could be with each other and not repeat history. She nodded, and hoped they could both live up to this new agreement.
Someone was calling for him, and Camille hopped off the desk so that he could work. She checked the medicine behind her, made sure everything was still set up properly. "I'm going to finish this, and then I'll wait for you."
Bane nodded, backed out of the room. "I won't be long."
It was still the late hours of morning when he found her lounging on their bed. The clouds outside were starting to turn a nasty gray, causing even more humidity from the coming rainy season. India may not have very many seasons like Gotham did, but autumn meant rain, and even monsoons. Bane didn't think they would have to experience one. The area they were living in was lucky enough to evade the monsoons, if not the rain. And if they were still here when winter arrived, then they would simply move away from the dangers of the environment.
Bane watched her as she waited for him on the bed, wondering what she was thinking of, wondering if she still had any hang-ups that were bothering her. She still looked so very tired, her eyes still shadowed and her skin still that exhausted gray-like tone. He knew she hadn't skipped out on her training while he'd been gone. He could even tell that she'd consumed herself in it. But Camille needed to sleep, otherwise she might start clamming up again.
Bane wondered if he would always be saving her from herself. And maybe she would always have to do the same for him.
He found that it was a fair trade. Camille looked over at him, smiled sleepily.
An idea suddenly came to his mind.
"I want to see your progress. Remove your clothing."
Camille lifted a brow, waited until he closed the door behind him so that none of his men would see her body while passing through the house. She reached for her dress, pulled it over her head to reveal her nude-colored underwear. "I kept up with training. I even wore the bindings. I swear."
"Yes, I know. I can see. Take those off," he continued, pointing to her panties.
She obeyed, deciding that maybe he wanted her now. And she would let him have her, because it had been a few weeks since they'd been intimate. She was still so exhausted that she couldn't seem to find the lust that had left her a long time ago. But with time she knew she could find it. And at least she no longer felt resentful of him. She was tired, she was confused by the continued absence of her desire. But at least she wanted him around again.
Camille drew her brows together once Bane started exiting the room.
"Wait for me," he murmured to her, and closed the door.
She shrugged, thought maybe someone was calling for him again. She wondered if she should feel weird that she was going to let Bane have her with his men right outside the door. But brushed that worry away quickly. They all knew of their relationship, and some knew more than others after the night she had returned to him back in Gotham, the night they hadn't been discreet at all when they had coupled roughly. And that night, only a flimsy curtain had blocked them off from listening ears. Any other normal couple would wait until they left.
Bane and Camille found that they didn't care. His men would pretend that they knew nothing, and would be punished if they made any inclination otherwise.
Camille heard his loud footsteps, stretched out on the bed as she continued to wait.
Bane walked in, slammed the door. Camille's eyes widened, and quickly she sat up when she saw he wasn't wearing the mask. She worried about his pain, worried that he had made a bad choice and that she was going to have to run through the house practically naked to find it for him, and get it back on him before it could get too awful. "What the hell are you doing?"
And then he rushed her, dropping the mask that had been in his hand all along onto the bed and placing one hand on her chest to forcibly push her onto her back, using the other to hold her thigh apart. Camille let out an oof as she was pushed, opened her mouth to ask him what on earth he thought he was doing.
Her words became nothing but a soft squeal when she felt something hot and wet between her legs.
Her eyes widened, her mind completely blanked of all thoughts. Her mouth hung open as she felt Bane's lips where she'd never felt them before, where she never thought she would ever feel them. She jumped a little when he closed his mouth over her, felt the lips she hardly ever saw moving over her flesh and kissing her the way he would kiss her mouth. She felt her vision cloud, felt her heart stop. She couldn't think because she was too busy feeling, too busy trying to make sense of what she was beginning to think of as a dream.
A very, very lovely dream.
Camille felt Bane's tongue travel over her opening, going a little higher and tasting her in an a way she'd never felt before. She gasped softly when his tongue hit the right spot, that lovely little spot that sent shocks through her system, that made her toes curl. She grasped at his arm, tried to sit up so she could see…
She only got a split second to watch as his head move between her legs before he used his massive strength to push her back down again, and hold her there.
And then suddenly, the feeling became even better. Suddenly she felt like she was flying when she felt herself moisten, when she felt the hot throb of pleasure vibrate through her body. Bane obviously loved when he could taste her wet core, when he growled softly and made her moan. He held her thigh apart when she jolted again, when she dug her nails into his forearm that held her down as he ferociously used his mouth on her. Camille whimpered and tried to lift her head, could only let it fall back onto the bed when she felt that wonderful hot tongue push between her folds and taste the very inside of her.
She couldn't think, not with the pleasurable haze covering her brain. She quite simply couldn't get her breath. He savaged her, made her groan when he lightly used his teeth. And then she lost her mind.
"Oh God, don't stop," she moaned, breathing deeply and trying to open her legs wider so that she could feel more, feel more of his wet mouth on her. "You're crazy. You are crazy… Keep going."
Bane smiled, tried to ignore the first hints of the sting crawling its way into his back, and licked her some more, making her lose herself, taking her away and destroying her. On a sharp cry her head fell back again, leaving her completely hot, wet, and hungry, wanting more because now she was mad with feeling. His mouth consumed her flesh again, his tongue tasting every inch of her center. The scent of her, that lovely liquid response, made him feel like a man starved. Her body tried to writhe, but was kept still by his strength. Her mouth wanted to scream, but was taken over by her low growl of pleasure. The pressure in her lower stomach built, built, built some more. Release suddenly gushed through her, scorched her body with its aching fire. But she was still flying, catapulting out of control.
And Bane didn't stop.
"Oh my God," she squealed, breathing heavily and feeling herself quake. Her thighs quivered around him as he sucked at her flesh, as his tongue swirled around her and tasted the wet flows of her orgasm. She was whimpering now in aftershock, wishing he would stay there forever and wishing she could just have a moment to process all of this at the same time. He felt her body go slack underneath him, licked her a few more times because he didn't know when he would be able to taste her this way again. With every slow swipe of his tongue she let out a little mew.
Bane could feel himself burning now, the annoying simmer of his aching pain wanting to consume him. He took a deep breath, tried to find it in himself to last for just a few more seconds. And because those seconds were ticking away, he crawled up her body, hovered over her and stared down at her face.
Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were glazed over, looking back up at him in an almost wonderment. She lay beneath him, stupefied and completely disoriented, her hands resting on either side of her head as her chest rose and fell with her deep, exhausted breathing. Camille's eyes wandered down to his mouth, shiny from her release, that scarred, wonderful mouth that had pleasured her in a staggering way.
Bane lowered his head, touched his lips to hers and kissed her.
Camille thought she would only have the strength to breathe after what had just happened. Now she could only kiss him back, knowing he was in pain but not wanting to feel his mouth away from her. Things were okay now. Things were okay because they hadn't let their soul wounds destroy what they had. They may not be the perfect pair of lovers, but she knew she would die for him, if only to never hurt him again.
"Happy birthday," he murmured against her lips.
Camille closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her breathing as Bane pulled away to quickly put his mask back on. She heard him groan softly once the painkillers raked his system again, soothing him back to health and keeping the worst of the pain away. He fell onto his back next to her, stared up at the ceiling and felt a satisfaction when she continued to pant softly.
"I haven't received many birthday presents in my life," she began, her voice low and husky from pleasure, her breasts straining against her nude-colored bra. "But… that was definitely the best one I've ever got."
Bane smiled and gave a breathless laugh. "You have never felt that before?"
Camille let out a whooshing breath, shook her head. "No, I haven't. With Jackson, I just always gave. Have you ever done that before?" she asked.
Bane put one hand behind his head, moved his shoulder to crack it. "Only once."
Camille finally opened her eyes, decided that she had been severely jipped by her selfish ex-husband. She decided to hate him even more. "It's just my luck," she muttered, sighing a little at the sorrow of it. "I finally have a man who will do that for me… and his mouth is always covered."
She thought about that truth some more, then couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up her throat. She giggled helplessly, giggled even more when Bane started to laugh with her. Just look at us, she thought as her stomach began to hurt. Laughing at themselves for how pathetic they used to be, how many bad decisions they'd made for the one who had been their whole life. It really was just their luck. But even though Camille would wish at times that she could see and kiss his lips whenever she wanted, she found that she would take the mask over a mouth any day.
This was who he was. And this was who she'd chosen.
Camille looked over to the clock, stretched. "It's noon. We're late for training."
Bane put his hand on her shoulder, held her back down. She stared at him with confusion laced in her eyes as he pulled the comforter over her half naked body.
"I have cancelled training. Today, you will sleep."
Camille couldn't explain how she felt when he said the words. Nothing seemed better, the offer of sleeping instead of training. Rest instead of terrible exhaustion. She couldn't remember the last deep, relaxing and undisturbed sleep she'd had. She'd still woken up multiple times in the night when he'd been gone. But now they were back to normal.
Maybe now, she could finally sleep.
Camille brushed her knuckles underneath his chin, felt like she could cry wonderful happy tears of joy. She could finally get rid of the exhaustion. She could finally not feel so horribly tired. "Thank you," she whispered to him, and felt her body relax.
Bane waited until she fell into a deep sleep, and quietly slipped out of bed so he could see to his men.
She slept all day long, never once waking up because her body was so exhausted, so tired, that the only thing it could do was lie there and rest. No longer was she torturing herself from her exhaustion and her negative feelings towards Bane. No longer was her body wishing for him even while her heart and mind wanted him to go away. Now, everything was at peace. Now she slept because she'd been long overdue.
Bane had peeked into the bedroom a couple times throughout the day, just to make sure that she was still asleep, and sleeping soundly. And this time, he knew for certain that she was dead to the world. The comforter had been kicked off the bed completely, the sheets in a tangled mess around her body from her tossing and turning. One pillow had been thrown across the room, the others were scattered along the floor. And each and every time he'd looked in, she was curled up or stretched out in some strange position or another.
Yes, she was definitely asleep, he thought, walking up to the side of the bed at one point and scooting her away from the edge so she wouldn't fall off. Camille had sighed deeply, rolled onto her back and reached to the side with one sleepy hand.
"Bane," she whispered, giving up the search for him and falling back into deep slumber.
And that was the way it should be, he concluded. He would make sure of it.
Evening came and his men were gone. Inside the bathroom, Bane replaced the canisters in his mask, felt the morphine travel through his system for the second time today as he stared at his naked face in the water filled in the sink. His skin might still be scarred and his nose still crooked from when it had been horribly broken, but it was nothing compared to how he used to look. Bane knew he would never look how he was supposed to look naturally ever again. That face had been destroyed a long time ago, for a girl who would almost become the death of him in many ways.
But at least he no longer looked terribly deformed. Time had healed most of his face, even though it could never bring him back fully and take away the necessity of wearing the mask, but it was better than being a broken mess of a man.
Camille groaned and stretched on the bed as she began to wake up, taking a deep breath and brushing her messy hair away from her face. Finally she had been able to sleep, a wonderful sleep completely absent of any nightmares or sudden bursts of wakefulness. No one had woken her up, and she hadn't fallen off the bed. It was her birthday still, Bane was home, and he had given her… one hell of a present.
She couldn't remember a better day. It felt like so long since she'd felt this content.
Lazily, she rolled onto her side, watched as Bane cleaned his face in the bathroom, a chore he usually did when he would be without the mask. She took the rest of him in, noticed he was only in a pair of boxer briefs. Her eyes skimmed over his back, that very large back consumed with the powerful muscle of a very powerful man. She looked at his arms, down his legs, danced her eyes over the body that had been sculpted on one of God's best days. She looked at his bare face as he washed up, felt that maybe she was the only one to look past the scars and other injuries to the face that had once been very attractive. She had always considered him handsome, felt that maybe she was twisted in the head for thinking so back in their asylum days. She looked at him now, and saw what was hers. He belonged to her, just as she belonged to him. All hers…
Camille looked at his body some more, almost pouted when he moved away and got in the running shower. She scooted at a different angle on the bed, peeked over in the bathroom so she could watch him. Now he was all wet. Now all that hot water was running over those hard, powerful muscles.
And then… her lost desire flared to life with intensity.
Her eyes suddenly darkened, focusing in only on her target and heating with the lust that had been away from her for so long. In madness now, Camille scurried off the bed, pranced into the bathroom and simply stared.
He had the water hot, almost boiling hot that made steam encompass the room, fogging the mirror and the glass walls around the shower. But Camille could see past it to the only thing she could think of right now, her mind just as thick and cloudy as the steam. She saw Bane standing there naked, his mask back in its proper place, holding the wrist usually wrapped in a brace underneath the spray to soothe it. The blue tiles on the wall of the shower moistened from the water, dripping little drops that matched those dripping from his skin. She watched those drops, and suddenly couldn't stand to be anywhere away from him. Forgetting about the bra that had been left on her body from earlier, Camille opened the glass door, stepped inside and into the hot steam.
Bane remained still as he heard Camille get in the shower with him. There was enough room for both of them, and they'd showered together before, so he didn't think much of it. He only continued to hold his aching wrist underneath the hard spray of the water, cracking it a little to readjust it back into place.
And then he felt her fingertips along his back, and forgot all about his pain.
Camille stared at his back like she'd never seen any part of his skin before, almost like she were touching him for the first time because it had been so long since she'd felt this way. She was nowhere near his height, but she reached up, sliding her hands over the hard muscle of the body she knew so well. She then ran her hands down, touching his sides and sliding her palms over his hips, stepping closer to that she could breathe him in, so that she could rest her forehead along his spine. She could already feel herself hot and wet for him, aching for him because her desire had been gone, consuming her completely now. She kissed his spine where the great scar was, flicked her tongue there.
"Bane," she breathed, moving her hands back up to rake her nails down his sides. "I want you."
Bane snatched her by her upper arm, pulled her around to face him until her back hit the wet shower wall. He looked at her face, into her eyes, and saw the woman he'd been missing. Here she was, after so very long. His aggressive Camille with the carnal lust filling in her black eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her this way, wanting him because she was so very aroused, instead of simply letting him take from her to satisfy himself. And somehow, all those months of her being unresponsive and almost completely indifferent in bed seemed even longer than what it actually was. Suddenly he was craving her, this woman who had been gone from him for what felt like an eternity.
He didn't want her to go away ever again.
Bane grabbed her wrists, pinned them above her head. "Say it again."
"I want you," she said breathlessly, kept her hands where he'd placed them as he went to work on getting her bra off. "Please just touch me."
Bane threw her soaked bra, letting it smack on the wet glass behind him before staring at the newly exposed skin. "First I will wash you." He spun her around, pushed her chest against the wall. He leaned in close, stared at her mouth as she pouted over her shoulder. "Then I will have you."
It was torture.
Camille wanted to grasp onto something, but the wall wouldn't allow her. She wanted to turn around and have him, but Bane made her seethe in desire as he slicked soap all over her skin, moving his hands everywhere on her body to wash her. His eyes intently followed his hands, watching closely and smirking a little whenever he would hear an impatient sound come from her. His hands were hard and calloused, trailing over her body and driving her insane, touching her and bumping into her, showing her what waited for her as soon as he was done. His erection teased her, brushing against her and finally feeling like it used to feel for her, no longer blocking her from sleep because now all she wanted was sex. And then finally, Bane's hands roamed up and were filled with her breasts. Camille moaned softly, pressed her chest further into his hands as he cupped her. She shivered, pushed her hips back to bump against his.
"Now," she told him, pressing her bottom against his erection, beckoning him closer inside her. "Please, now."
Bane moved some of her hair away, all the hair that seemed to be getting longer now that her curls were steadily dampening from the moisture of the shower, and took the back of one of her thighs to spread her open. He reached between her legs with his other hand first, remembered the hot taste of her there, and felt that same lovely wetness that would consume him. Suddenly as impatient as his woman, Bane quickly lined himself up behind her and pushed all the way to her limit.
They both groaned, suddenly feeling so deprived of each other, suddenly never wanting to part again. Camille squeezed her eyes shut against the stretch, let out a long breath as she felt herself slowly adjust to his great length. But she couldn't wait, didn't want to wait any longer than she already had, and pulled his hands onto her hips. She found that he was just as impatient.
Bane instantly starting pumping into her, at just the pace they both needed, hard and fast because the sensation was mind-blowing. He grasped her hips, slammed her onto his cock every time he would pull back to have her again. She was so tight from all the weeks of being without him, being without sex, and his mind clouded at the grip.
Camille cooed to him when he leaned against her, when he wrapped his arms around her to that he could feel the front of her as he steadily took her from behind. He reached between her legs, rubbed her some on the spot that drove her insane, wished he could watch her touch herself as he pounded away at her opening. And because the thought aroused him even more, Bane set his fingers against her lips, remembered the feeling of her mouth on him as she sucked away at the fingers that had been rubbing her. He groaned some as she bit him, set the mouthpiece of his mask on her shoulder and took a deep breath.
"Don't stop," she hissed through her teeth when his hips ceased to move. "Oh God, why are you stopping?"
Bane shook his head to clear it, pulled out of her and made her whimper at the absence of him. "Turn around."
Camille did as she was told, instantly grabbed his shoulders when he took her bottom and lifted her against the wall. She was way too short for him to simply stay behind her that way. His back was beginning to ache from the bend and he needed her more level with him. But as her eyes bore into his, as her arms wrapped around his neck, Bane realized that this way of having her was important. This was the way he'd taken her for the very first time.
That first time, he had to force arousal on her, had to force it on himself as well because the situation had been so confrontational. He'd become the only other man to have her other than her ex-husband. And he'd become the man to erase him completely. Bane looked down so he could slide himself back inside her, pulled her flush against his body so that he could feel every inch. Camille smiled when he moved and held her underneath the spray of the hot water, drenching her completely and making her skin as silky smooth as his. And then she was against the wall again. And then he was driving into her in madness.
Camille moaned loudly as he rode her, as her back hit the wall of the shower, as the hard length of his cock pushed her to the edge of release. She scratched at his shoulders and his arms, tightened herself around him to increase the resistance and cause him to growl against the grip. She would kill him if he dared to stop now, kill herself if her desire for him ever left her again. She needed this, needed him. More than anything because he had become everything. Stream billowed around them, thickening the air until her lungs clogged with it. She encouraged him on, made him go faster and harder against her because that was how they loved it. Bane groaned deeply into her neck, slammed himself into her because he wanted to feel her finish around him.
"Come for me, Camille," he hissed at her, reached up with a desperate hand to fist her wet hair and ride her harder.
She cried out when she came, gasped and held him close as she felt him empty inside of her, as she felt the hot spill of his release fill her, and claim her again. She panted as she ran her hands down his chest, leaned forward to kiss his shoulder and his neck as he calmed himself. Their skin was red from the hot water, their eyes glazed over from satisfying sex. Bane pulled out of her, set her onto her feet so that he could lean his weight on his forearms against the wall. His hand was still locked within the tangled, wet black mess of her hair, gripping her there because it was almost a strange leash to keep her near him. Camille felt something other than water trickle down the inside of her thighs, figured that she would have to be cleaned again, knowing he would too. Bane had his eyes closed, his chest steadily moving up and down with his breaths. She didn't want him to feel like he was being neglected from her affections. She could hate herself for denying him in the first place before the situation had been resolved. And because she would never deny him that way again, she cupped his masked cheeks, pulled him closer down to her, and kissed the skin of his face softly. Oddly enough, neither of them had ever had makeup sex before.
Maybe it had been worth all the fighting.
Bane suddenly felt so tired, what with the mask being off twice today and his joints aching slightly, his eyes felt heavy and his limbs loose. He wished for his bed even as he brushed his fingers over her lips. "All mine," he murmured to her softly.
Camille kissed his fingers, pulled him close to her so that he could breathe into her neck, so that she could wrap her arms around him. "Mine too," she whispered.
And everything was as it should be.
Later, once they'd cleaned properly and finally turned off the shower, Bane rested on the bed reading, wearing only a pair of comfortable pants for sleep. Camille was washing her face, putting on lip moisturizer right after she'd pulled on some clean underwear. And when he felt the bed give way underneath him, he looked over the book and watched as she pushed apart his long legs, climbing between them and staring at him.
"We're being honest now," she told him, repeating his earlier words. Camille set her hands by his sides, leaned over his body as her hair tickled his stomach. "And… I like it when you hold me."
Bane stared back at her. Usually when they slept, they would lay next to each other, stay touching each other in some way. And whenever Camille would fall asleep she would constantly be reaching for him. But it was very rare when they would hold each other for sleep. Maybe it was some sick form of leftover pride, trying to keep away what they really were to each other because they didn't want to feel anything more than what had got them this far.
Or maybe they just didn't know how to be with someone who wanted them just as much as the other.
Bane set the book down, and waited for her to climb all the way between his legs so that she could straddle him. He watched her face as she leaned down, kissed his mask softly, and then her head was on his chest, using him as a bed because she wanted to be close to him. Bane looked up at the ceiling, pulled the covers over them and turned off the lights. He found himself suddenly running his fingers through her hair, soothing them both to sleep because there had been no rest in their home before.
To be with Bane was to be alive. Camille knew that all too well. But it was also the hardest thing she'd ever done. Their pasts had almost been their undoing, taking them away from reality and filling up the hole they were trapped in with the hope for someone else to love them. But they were learning to live a different way. And with someone who knew exactly how the hole had felt. Damaged, she knew he once had been, and God knew so had she.
Yet somehow, they continually managed to heal each other.
TBC
A/N: Only one more chapter before Gotham City, I promise. I know everyone is looking forward to the other characters I have coming in… Certain ones that will be big competition for our favorite mercenary couple. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, even though there was a minor mess up in this chapter after I uploaded that I totally fixed. You guys make my world go round, and are my lovely inspiration. And I hope you don't mind the long chapters. I try very hard to make it seem like you're reading an actual novel instead of just a regular fanfic. I feel like it gives it more life. Review for me, darlings.