A/N: aaaand here we have borderline PWP! Really long borderline PWP! Well, it's not entirely pointless, as there is decently important dialogue, and I always attempt to keep the smut meaningful... because otherwise it's just shallow and who wants to read that? So hopefully this isn't shallow. :) Now, addressing a few things from the reviews... To a guest reviewer who asked about Selina's comment of knowing Leslie "for years": in YLBIP, when I introduced Leslie in the story, I wrote her as being Alfred's girlfriend and Selina's old friend that she'd known for years, and helped get food and supplies to during Bane's occupation. Normally Leslie is portrayed in fics as Bruce's old friend or Thomas Wayne's old colleague, and that works but Bruce already has Alfred and I wanted Selina to have her own semi-parent figure. Sorry for the confusion, sometimes I forget I need to explain things in this story that the previous one set up :) and then to another guest reviewer who said something about misrepresenting religion... sorry, I did my best, and I did do my research on christening ceremonies. I did sort of overlook a few things I read, like the fact of a godparent needing to do a class and prepare beforehand, so it might not have been realistic for Blake to be surprised at the last minute. But otherwise I was very careful to try to get it right. I'm a Christian but I've never been to a christening, so it was important to me to try to get it right. Can't please everyone though, I guess. Oh well! Thanks to the rest of you for being fabulous as always! And I hope this chapter does not disappoint! :)
It had been a very long day, and by the time Selina got off work, saw her doctor for her six-week check up and got herself home, she fell into her bed with Helena and fell asleep within mere moments.
It was only three o clock in the afternoon, but naps had become a thing of habit for the new mother in recent weeks. She'd never been one for naps but then she'd discovered how sage the oft-given advice of "sleep when the baby sleeps" really was. Between work and Helena, Selina was the busiest she'd ever been in her life, and Bruce wasn't faring much better. But the good news was, they'd finally nailed down something of a routine, and slowly but surely, they were getting the hang of their new lives.
Helena no longer slept all of her days away, but she still took three naps a day that were divided by periods of cheerful alertness that showed off her blooming personality. She was a happy but impatient baby, perfectly content until she became hungry or uncomfortable, and an ear-piercing wail would immediately alert her parents to her distress. She'd lost her newborn look and could now mostly hold up her own head, which enhanced her "growing baby" look, and though both parents were shocked at how fast she was growing, they loved the watching the almost daily changes in her every day.
Selina normally napped with Helena during the afternoon and would wake to make dinner when Bruce came home for the day, which was usually just before 5, but today she woke up at 5:30 and immediately realized that Helena wasn't lying next to her as she had been.
She immediately sat up and looked around frantically, only to find Bruce sitting near the edge of the bed, wearing a relaxed smile. He reached out and put a hand over one of hers. "Calm down. It's fine."
"Where is she?" Selina asked, her heart rate slowing down fractionally.
"She's with Alfred," he replied.
Selina blinked and then let her eyes drift downward, noting how Bruce looked as if he were about to hit the town. He was in one of his black suits, black shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top, and his hair - which needed another cut soon - was tousled and had that effortlessly-gorgeous vibe about it. This was opposed to Selina's tangled hair and work clothes that she hadn't bothered changing out of. "Why does Alfred have her? And why are you dressed up?"
"I'm taking you out tonight," Bruce replied. "Go get ready. Reservation's in forty five minutes."
"But why..." she stopped short, her sleep-muddled brain finally remembering that her check-up had taken place today. Bruce watched the realization flicker across her face and grinned. She half-smiled back and said, "Oh."
"Go get ready," Bruce repeated, sliding off the bed and getting to his feet. She waited until he walked out of their room and all but bounded to her closet, feeling strange without Helena at her side and especially strange about the idea of a night without her - this would be the first time she was separated from Helena for more than an hour - but a rush of excitement wasn't far behind the anxiety.
When she opened the closet, she found something hanging in the front of her side that hadn't been there before. It was covered in a dark black zip-up bag, and when she pulled the zipper down in curiosity, she grinned at what she found underneath.
Black, lace-trimmed dress, plunging neckline, intricate design, hem that looked like it would fall somewhere above her knees. She took it down and headed towards her bed with it, wondering how long Bruce had been planning for this day and what exactly he had in mind for tonight besides dinner and the obvious.
For once, though, she thought, the obvious was undoubtedly going to be the best part.
Conversation was light as they made their way to Nassau a short time later, but Selina could hear the strain in Bruce's voice and see it behind his eyes. It was taking the kind of rigid self control that only the League of Shadows could have instilled in him to keep himself from pouncing on her long before they got to the restaurant, or even before they left the house, especially considering the dress that he'd bought for her. It fit her perfectly and she pulled it off well, having lost a little over 25 pounds in the last six weeks due to her self-imposed, maniacal, early morning workouts. She still had some more to lose before she reached her goal but she didn't look pregnant anymore, and she didn't despise her reflection as much now. She felt good tonight, especially when she'd catch a glimpse of Bruce eyeing her as he drove them to their first destination.
He took her to a place they'd never been before, an upscale restaurant near the harbor of the city. A valet was waiting to take the car when he pulled up to the doors, and when he came around to open her door for her, it was with another look that made Selina's anticipation grow.
As the valet drove off, Bruce took her hand in his and leaned down to give her a soft kiss. "Like the dress?"
"I do," she replied as they walked up the few stairs towards the doors. "You have good taste."
He gave her a smirk as a crisply-suited man opened the door for them, and Selina drew a breath as Bruce spoke to the hostess and then continued to hold her hand as they were led away and up a staircase.
The place was gorgeous - very ritzy, dimly lit, an actual band playing softly somewhere - and it reminded her of the first date Bruce had taken her on in Florence last year. They'd gone to a place much like this one, but had spent most of the dinner alternating between arguing and eating in silence. How far they'd come in such a brief period of time.
They were shown to a private, beautiful little booth upstairs that sat on the far east side of the restaurant and boasted of a wall-length window that overlooked the harbor. The thought crossed Selina's mind to sit across from him at the table, just far away enough to be out of his reach and thus torture him, but he slid on to the seats first and pulled her until she was seated next to him, only centimeters separating them.
A male server came to give them their menus and ask what drinks they wanted, and Selina noticed how the man looked at her for a split second before smiling politely at Bruce and refraining from looking at her again. It was a nice little added boost of confidence for a woman who'd given birth for the first time less than two months ago, but she didn't really need it. Bruce had that aspect of things covered already.
When the man was gone, Bruce opened his menu but Selina quickly turned towards him and pulled him into a kiss, her hands on the lapels of his jacket, holding him in place.
It started slow and controlled but turned into something different when Bruce shifted his body into hers, brought his hand to her face and became the aggressor, kissing her in a way he hadn't since before she cared to remember. Weeks of celibacy and exhaustion had kept them from this, besides occasional stolen moments here and there like the one in the shower when Helena was a week old, but those moments were nothing like what they were used to and barely satisfying.
Though he'd been the one to turn their kiss deep and frantic, Bruce was also the one who broke away from it first. He grinned as he caught his breath and said, "Sorry... I do plan on making it through dinner without... well..."
"Don't be sorry," she said, still holding him close as her fingers played with the just slightly-too long ends of his hair. "I think we both know the real reason you're doing this tonight."
"Do you?" he grinned. "Because I have several reasons."
"I can think of one very obvious reason," she replied.
"I'm sure," he said. "But today's date is another one."
She paused. What was today, again? April something? "Today's date?"
He nodded. "Coincidentally enough, one year ago today... I broke into your apartment."
Realization dawned on her, and she could hardly believe it. Had it really only been one year? Enough had taken place to fill up five years, maybe even more. She certainly wouldn't have believed this day a year ago that she'd be sitting here now, the mother of Bruce's child, and she definitely wouldn't have expected that she'd be particularly happy about it. She also never imagined she'd love Bruce as unbelievably deeply as she did.
"... Damn."
Bruce grinned. "I don't know exactly when we officially began... whatever it was that we did," he said, "so I figured I'd just count that day as our anniversary."
"Anniversary," she repeated. "See, I would count from... well..." She stopped, genuinely deep in thought for a moment. "I actually have no idea."
"I thought maybe when we went back to Gotham," Bruce said. "That was when I realized how committed you really were, to go back there with me. Or, I thought before that, when you let me move in with you."
"Let's just stick with that first day," Selina decided. "Because I have no clue."
"Sounds good," Bruce replied, before the server came back.
Selina moved to finally take a glance at her menu, but Bruce started ordering before she could get past the appetizer portion. Yep, she thought, this was just like their first date.
When the server had left, Selina raised an eyebrow at Bruce, who gave a sheepish grin. "I know you hate it when I order for you. Sorry. But trust me, I know you, and I know your taste." He gestured to her dress.
She rolled her eyes. "Right. You only picked this because you knew I couldn't wear a bra with it."
"Not true," he protested, but she saw the playful glint in his eye.
"Not saying I mind," she said, her hand finding his leg. "So, what's on the agenda after dinner? I assume you aren't taking me home for awhile."
He shook his head. "We won't be going home until morning."
"Ah... hotel then?" she ventured, his eyes on her hand as it crept further up his leg.
"I get the feeling you're not very interested in making it through dinner," he said, taking her hand in his to get it away from his thigh.
"Actually, I'm starving," she said, untangling her hand from his and placing it on his chest, under his jacket but over his shirt. "I'm just starving more for you."
He was playing it cool, but she could see how hard it was for him. She'd been able to tell in his kiss, and she could see it now in his eyes and hear it in his breath. She brought her lips to his neck and felt him stiffen, felt his pulse quicken as she moved over the fluttering vein, heard his breath hitch when she kissed just under his ear. Her hand moved up and over his chest, pushed aside his jacket to where it was half-off of his shoulder, and then slid up to his neck. She felt his hand come to rest on her hip just before she guided his face towards hers with her fingers on his chin, and she looked into his eyes, letting her lips hover a breath away from his slightly parted ones.
He gave in, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, taking her fully into his arms and crushing her against him. He hadn't been able to hold her like that for a long time, having had to be mindful of her belly for so long, and a sense of freedom overcame him at the thought of not having to hold back anymore.
He almost let himself get carried away with that thought, especially when he tilted her head back to further taste her mouth and she let out a soft moan. They were secluded enough to not bother anyone with their actions, but he vaguely remembered that their server would be coming back around with their food any minute, vaguely being the key word.
Her hair was up in a quickly-thrown together twist, but he wanted to feel it between his fingers the way hers were with his, so he moved his lips to her neck and began a ruthless assault there as his fingers plucked out the lone, long pin holding her hair up, letting her long dark hair cascade over her shoulders and down her back.
"Aw, Bruce," she whined, giving his own hair a tug.
He let his tongue run over her sensitive skin, tasting her one more time and making her take a sharp breath before he pulled away and looked up at her. "I like your hair down."
"I like it up," she replied. Her cheeks were flushed and her already dark brown eyes seemed even darker somehow.
He tilted his head a little, then moved his hand from her waist and found the ends of her hair. She had yet to cut it once since becoming pregnant, and it was beautifully long now, reaching her waist, and loved it like that. He moved his hand up through her hair until it was close to her scalp, then fisted a handful of it and gave her a gentle yank.
"If it's up," he said, breath dancing across her lips as he held her head back by her hair, "then I can't do that."
She didn't reply, opting instead to grab him and pull him down for another kiss. He released her hair and she sprang up, taking control and all but shoving him back against the back of the seat. One of her legs curled around one of his, and he let her do as she pleased, wholly forgetting where they were for the moment.
Her fingers started unbuttoning his shirt as her lips moved to his ear. "We should have skipped dinner."
That managed to remind him of where they were enough to make him chuckle and put an end to her efforts to undress him. "Probably."
She bit his ear lobe, he groaned, and she whispered, "I can get under the table if you'd like."
"Don't tempt me," he grunted back, his hands moving to her hips. One of them slid down until his fingers touched the hem of her dress.
"Why not?" she asked, drawing back and looking at him devilishly.
His fingers slipped under the lace-tipped fabric, slowly and not over-daringly until her hand grabbed it and moved it up higher. "Because I might want to actually come back to this restaurant some day and we can't if they... God, you're not wearing anything under there."
She grinned. "What can I say. I came prepared."
"You're killing me," he said, hand falling between her thighs but staying at a safe distance, wanting to cross the line but managing not to somehow.
Selina didn't care about the line, however, and skipped merrily over it as she brought her own hand down to him, grasping him through his pants, swallowing his sound of surprise with a hasty kiss. He was hard, of course, and had been for awhile, and she tortured him, rubbing just enough to make him squirm but not give any real relief.
"Stop," he said breathlessly, tearing his lips away, "Selina, stop."
She didn't stop. If he'd actually wanted her to, she thought, he would have just batted her hand away, but he didn't. "Where's the fun in that?"
He laughed breathlessly, then they heard a noise that made them jump apart simultaneously. It turned out to be their server clanking up the staircase below with their food, saving them from the embarrassment of being interrupted during their previous position. Bruce straightened out jacket and tried to fix the buttons on his shirt while Selina pulled down her dress, but it didn't help much. As soon as the waiter walked into their booth and got a look at their flushed faces, heaving chests and highly mussed heads of hair, he had to fight the urge to laugh as he set their plates down in front of them.
"Anything else I can get you?" the young man asked.
Bruce glanced at Selina and then looked up at the waiter. "Actually, can we get this to go? And the check?"
The man couldn't contain the chuckle this time. "Sure thing. I was about to offer that option, actually."
"Thanks," Bruce replied, deciding that the boy would get a good tip.
As he left the booth again to fetch the boxes and check, Bruce looked at Selina, who smiled in relief. "Thank God."
Bruce chuckled. "I don't know how I'm going to walk out of here like this."
"I'll walk in front of you," she assured him, patting his leg. "Unless you wanted to find a bathroom or... storage closet. Or something."
He laughed and brushed his hair back with his fingers, shifting uncomfortably for obvious and easily seen reasons. "Just walk in front of me really closely."
Selina may have been a woman on a mission, but she was also now a mother, and that meant multitasking both physically and mentally.
"Can you call Alfred to check on Helena?" she asked Bruce as he drove them to the hotel. By the set of his jaw he looked like he might be in pain, but he nodded and pulled out his phone.
Helena was, of course, perfectly fine, and that put Selina's mind at ease as they pulled into the beachfront hotel Bruce had gotten them a room at. She could then place her undivided attention on Bruce and the rest of the night's events.
After Bruce pulled up to the doors and waited for a valet to assist them, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Selina watched him curiously, confused by the look of utmost concentration on his face.
"Bruce?"
He held up a hand to her. A moment or two later he opened his eyes and smiled brightly. The valet happened to appear at the same moment. "All right. Let's go."
Her confused expression deepened until she glanced down at his pants and what he'd been doing dawned on her. "That's... impressive."
"I have impeccable self-control when I want to," Bruce replied, slipping out of the car.
He carried their dinners while they walked inside of the hotel, wasting no time to approach the front desk and check in.
The woman behind the desk, a young one with a deep island accent, looked up their reservation on the computer in front of her and then said, "Mr. Wayne, it looks like we weren't expecting you for another hour. Your suite isn't quite ready yet."
"How much longer until it is?" he asked, masking the irritation in his voice. Beside him, Selina suppressed a groan.
"I'll call and ask," the woman smiled before picking up the phone and dialing a short number.
Bruce waited impatiently as she spoke to the cleansing crew in the room he'd reserved. After a moment she covered the mouthpiece with her hand and said, "They say it's mostly ready but they still need to clean some of the windows and fix an issue with the television."
Bruce sighed in relief and smiled as he said, "Tell them not to worry about that. I need the room now."
"Yes sir," the girl replied before relaying the message to the cleaning crew.
A moment later she gave him the room key, and he and Selina headed to the elevators. Their room lay on the top floor, of course, and it was a long ride, but thankfully, they made the trip alone.
Selina gave him a sideways glance as they stood against the back wall of the elevator. His eyes were fixed on the display above the doors that counted the floors as they ascended, and she wondered what was on his mind. She wondered what he planned on doing to her tonight, and how many times, if they'd even leave the hotel still standing by the time morning came.
The doors then opened and snapped her out of her thoughts, and he led her wordlessly to their destination. The cleaning crew had gone, and when he slid the card into the slot above the doorknob and swung the door open, he let Selina walk inside first.
It was what she'd expected for an overpriced hotel penthouse - spacious, stocked, modern, clean, a view to die for. Bruce had stuck their dinners inside the room's small refrigerator in record time, appearing empty handed at her side a moment later.
She looked up at him, feeling suddenly overheated and somehow... nervous.
"Give me a minute," she said, turning and sprinting to the bathroom.
Once she actually located the bathroom and stepped inside of it, she closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. She hadn't felt nervous back at the restaurant, and she couldn't understand the sudden sense of overwhelming heat that had come over her as soon as they had gotten alone. She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror and then took a drink of water from the sink before she heard a soft knock at the door.
"You all right?"
"Yeah," she sighed.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
He opened the door and peered in, finding Selina in front of the mirror, flushed and holding her hair back behind her neck. "Something wrong?"
She shook her head as he walked inside the bathroom. "No."
She looked at him, noticing that he'd shed his jacket and had never fully rebuttoned his shirt, and she knew where her sudden anxiety had come from. She had no idea how childbirth would change things physically, if they'd change them at all, but now she was about to find out. And what if it was different, and what if he didn't like it? What if it wasn't as good for him as it was before?
She cursed herself for not asking her doctor about this earlier today. Whatever.
"Then come on," he said, gesturing to the huge room outside of the door, and holding out his hand for her to take.
She took his hand and let him lead her away. The sun was setting outside, and the sky was a brilliant array of colors out of their window, pretty enough to catch her eye before he stopped them in front of the room's enormous bed and turned towards her. He brushed her hair behind her ear and remarked, "You couldn't keep yourself off of me at dinner, and now you're acting almost... awkward."
She sighed. "I'm fine. Really."
"You're nervous. Like you were back when Helena was first born and didn't want to take a shower with me."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you always have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Be all super observant and determined to talk about everything," she replied. "I just pushed a human being out of my body six weeks ago. Yes, I'm a little bit nervous. Not a lot, but a little bit."
"Don't be," he said gently, his hand still near her face, stroking just above her jaw with his thumb. Then he pulled her towards the bed. "Come here. I'll help you relax."
She let him sit her down on the bed, then reached down to slip the heels off of her feet.
"Mind keeping those on?" he asked softly as he shifted behind her on the bed.
She turned her head to shoot him a perplexed and amused glance. "Really? Want me to dig my four-inch heels into your back later?"
He chuckled as he swept her hair to the side and tossed it over her right shoulder. "I just haven't seen you in heels for awhile. I like them on you."
Then his hands were on her shoulders, and he started massaging her lightly. He hadn't forgotten that she'd worked all day, nor that she'd been working six days a week for the last two weeks, and the evidence was there in knots under her flesh. She groaned and sagged as he started working the tension out, alternating pressure from light to hard when necessary, pulling down the straps of her dress to her mid-shoulder to work more efficiently.
When the knots were gone he slowed down his hands to a more sensual touch, running them down her arms as he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. He felt her shiver, relished it, and brought his hands back up, using one of them to tilt her head to the side so he could lean forward and kiss her.
She reached her hand into his hair and pulled him closer as they kissed, and she felt butterflies in her stomach as strong as the ones she'd felt on this day a year ago. She hoped it would never change, turning her body around, bringing her legs up on the bed as he scooted back to make room for her, never breaking their kiss. The burning need was back, hitting her hard and unforgivingly, freeing her mind of the burden of thinking as she finished her earlier task of ridding him of his shirt.
She tried to push him down on the bed but it wasn't happening. He broke their kiss and gave her a burning look, one that caused another burst of butterflies within her, and then flipped her down on her back without a word.
He assaulted her neck, reveling in being able to press his full weight down on her now, his hands pulling down the top of her dress further the lower his mouth trailed. It ended up bunched around her waist for awhile while he worked her up, taking his time getting to know her body all over again, as if it had been six months rather than six weeks.
He kissed her stomach as he pulled off her dress fully, leaving it to fall somewhere on the floor as he returned to his task. He looked up at her, finding her eyes closed but body relaxed still, her face a mess with bits of her hair lying over it, and he found himself moving back up her body. She opened her eyes as he brushed her errant hair aside with gentle fingers, looking upon her in a way that made her chest lurch.
He kissed her gently, lovingly, much differently from the way the rougher side of him wanted to, but he was in control and wanted her to know how beautiful and perfect she was to him.
"I love you," he whispered against her lips, looking into her eyes.
She touched his face, meaning it with all she had in her when she whispered back, "I love you too."
He kissed her again, and one of his still-clothed legs - she really needed to do something about that - nudged hers apart to make room for his hand. She closed her eyes and grabbed on to his hair at his touch, and he kissed her neck as he rubbed her gently, getting her as ready as he could, pulling away to watch her face after a few moments.
She gasped when he slipped a finger inside of her, and her eyes opened in time to see something flicker across his face. He was staring off somewhere else, his brows just barely knitting together, and she started panicking. "What? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said quickly. "Nothing... you're just... really tight."
Now that he mentioned it...
Ah, crap, she thought. This is going to hurt like a bitch. And here she'd been terrified of things being too loose.
But then he kissed her cheek and withdrew his hand, whispering, "I'll get you ready. Don't worry."
Anxiety made everything worse, and could turn mild, fleeting pain into serious pain. He knew that, and he decided to treat her like a virgin tonight. He'd keep her from focusing on the moment or two of pain by eliminating her ability to think at all beforehand, and hopefully, that would be all she needed.
He was almost in pain again - he wondered how much more of this waiting he could take before he'd just die - but he held it together and worked his way down her body again, stopping at the tops of her thighs, not allowing himself to rush through it as much as he might want to for his own sake. He kissed down her inner thigh, making her twitch in anticipation, holding her other one flat with his hand, glancing up at her before he began his assault.
He loved the immediate trembling, the stiffening and the stifled moans, letting them spur him on as he tasted her, making her hold on to her own hair and the sheet under her, putting the idea of impending discomfort as far away from her mind as possible.
His mouth worked feverishly, his own body dying for its turn, its relief, and she didn't make him wait long - she grabbed his hair when she fell apart with a great quake, holding on like she might slip away and be lost forever if he didn't anchor her to earth.
After a parting kiss, he looked up and saw her lying limp against the pillows and sheets, her eyes closed and breasts heaving up and down as she panted, and this was his window of opportunity. He quickly - and finally - lost his remaining clothes, and then returned to her.
Her legs were like jelly, shaking a little bit, and he was nice enough to remove her high heels for her, but she didn't notice. He settled back down on top of her, and her weakened arms wrapped around his neck, and she spread her legs for him.
He kissed her lips and pushed into her, and immediately nearly went cross-eyed. She was tight, unbelievably so, and though he heard her hiss of pain, all he felt was the most pleasurable sensation of being strangled to death that he could imagine.
He stopped quickly, however, to give both himself and her a minute. "You okay?" he asked, his voice straining so hard she might have thought he was in immense pain.
"Yeah," she lied. "You?"
"No," he replied with a tight smile. "This is going to kill me."
"In a good way, right?"
"Yeah," he grunted before he let himself move again. She hissed again and her grip tightened around his neck, but he didn't stop. This was the worst part for her, and pushing through was the best thing he could do for her.
She started matching his movements, gritting her teeth, determined to adjust and enjoy this, and slowly but surely, the sting began to fade. Then he halted for a moment, held up her left leg with his hand, shifted his hips and gave a full thrust, and this time, she let out a soft moan.
"Better?" he asked against her ear.
"Much," she replied, feeling him hitting all the right places, even if he was now an extremely tight fit. "Faster."
She didn't have to tell him twice. He grunted and picked up the pace, letting go of her leg to plant his hand down on the mattress to support himself, kissing her lips as she enthusiastically thrust up her hips to meet him, over the initial pain and incredibly happy to have this back again, after abstaining as long as they did. She watched the muscles in his arms and chest flex with his movements, looked up into his face when his forehead rested against here, noted the veins around his closed eyes and how they always sharpened and appeared when he was really working hard. He really was beautiful, and she grinned when he opened his eyes and caught her staring.
He didn't say anything but he kissed her again, panting as he moved faster and faster, eventually moving his lips to her neck again, almost losing it when he heard her moan against his ear. Her nails were scratching down his back and he knew she was about to go again, felt her start to clench and heard her hold her breath - she did that right before sometimes, he noticed - and then there it was, the telltale shaking and whimpering that became another moan as she came. He followed soon after, finding it nearly euphoric after his long, patient wait - not just today but over the last month and a half - and he moaned louder than even she did.
They lay unmoving for some time after, relieved and satisfied and surprised, and when Bruce finally managed to roll away from her, she immediately missed him. Tomorrow they'd go back to the routine, and she was fine with that, but for now, she didn't want to miss a second of this.
She pulled him back and he held her, smiling softy as his eyes met hers. She broke the comfortable silence first.
"You know... I wish you'd been my first time," she said, her hand resting on his chest. "You would have made it good."
"I do my best," he replied, grinning. "You hungry yet?"
She shook her head. "Not really."
"Me neither."
She smiled. "Although I do see a bucket with champagne over there. I might be interested in that."
He glanced over at a table not far away from the bed and replied, "Yeah... there's some kind of chocolate covered strawberries or cherries or something that came with it. Want some?"
"Yes, actually," she replied, then she paused. "Wait... I can't have champagne."
"You can," Bruce said, sitting up. He got out of bed and she watched, enjoying the view. "I looked it up. You can drink a little bit while nursing. And you're especially safe tonight. It'll be out of your system by morning."
"How thoughtful of you to look that up," she grinned as he picked up the bucket and a platter of the fruit - it turned out to be strawberries - and brought them over to the nightstand on his side of the bed.
After he crawled into bed and haphazardly threw a sheet across them both, he produced one champagne flute, and Selina said, "I'm not drinking any of that unless you drink some with me."
He eyed her but shrugged. "Fine. I don't mind champagne."
Two pourings later, he handed her her glass and held on to his as she grinned at him. "To us, I guess. And our first anniversary."
He grinned back, and they both took a sip of the sparkling liquid. She hadn't had any alcohol in so long, and she loved the taste of champagne - it was the authentic, ridiculously expensive French kind - and she gulped it all down in about one minute.
"Slow down there," Bruce chided, taking her glass from her to refill it. "I don't want you drunk."
"Don't worry about that," she replied, taking the full glass back from him. "I don't either."
Bruce was satisfied with half of his glass, and he set it aside and grabbed the platter from the nightstand. He put it on the bed, between them, and said conversationally, "So... how was your day?"
Selina chuckled. "It was long. Thanks for letting me have my nap earlier."
"No problem," he said, picking up one of the strawberries by its long stem and bringing it to Selina's lips. She bit into it delicately, watching him as he brought the rest of it to his own mouth and finished it. "Alfred was quite excited to have Helena for tonight. He said he couldn't believe it took me this long to, in his words, 'pawn her off' on him."
"I miss her," Selina said. "I mean, I love this, but I still miss her."
"So do I," Bruce replied. "But we needed this."
"I agree."
A silence fell for a few moments before Bruce broke it, his tone tentative as he asked, "How are you doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your father..." he trailed off when her expression instantly numbed. Her father had passed away the very day after she called him that night on the beach. She'd taken the news stoically, and he knew she was fine, but he was sure it still affected her on some level.
"I'm fine, Bruce," she replied. "He was dead to me for years. It's not a dramatic transition."
"Still a transition," Bruce said gently.
Selina shrugged, eyeing the silver saucer at the middle of the platter. She removed the lid and found extra chocolate to dip in. "Honestly... my father died with my mother. The man he became after that was not my father."
Bruce nodded. "I understand. I've seen how death can... change a man. Grief can turn men into monsters."
"I look at it this way to keep from being bitter," Selina sighed. "If I hadn't been the best thief in Gotham, our paths would have never crossed. And I'd still be there, stealing necklaces and fencing cars to get by. And I never would have been a thief if my life hadn't gone to shit. Not saying I'm thankful for what he did, because I'm not. It just is what it is. And I managed to end up happy by some miracle. It all worked out. So I shouldn't be bitter."
Bruce paused halfway through a strawberry. He'd never expected words like that out of Selina's mouth. "That's... good."
"Don't sound so surprised," she chided.
He shrugged, grinning just a bit. "You're wiser than you think, Selina."
She paused and looked him over, her eyes soft. They were both leaning against the headboard of the bed, still undressed, and the platter didn't put much space between them. Her voice was gentle as she said, "I really do wish you had been my first time."
He let a moment pass before he said, "You've never told me about your first time."
"Not much to tell," she replied, the edge back in her voice. "You know I was thirteen. And you know who it was with. That's really all there is to know."
"I'm sorry," Bruce said. The thought of Marcus Michaels, child pimp and scum of the earth, touching Selina was almost too much for him to handle. Let alone the fact that he'd touched her not once but many times all through her teenage years.
"So am I," she muttered, shoving another strawberry in her mouth. "I hated sex for years, you know. Because of him. And then even after I struck out on my own... it was just one night stands with guys who didn't know what they were doing. I was considering giving girls a try, that's how desperate I got."
"Then?"
"... Then I met someone who did know what he was doing. He was a thief like me. We went after the same diamonds on the same night."
"Glamorous," Bruce replied. When she rolled her eyes he said, "No, really. Sounds like something from a novel or... soap opera."
Selina laughed. "If you say so. What about you? Your first time? I know about the college professor thing, but not your first time."
"Professor's assistant," he corrected. "And it was... well, I was sixteen. I was in a boys' boarding school so there weren't many girls around, obviously."
"So... let me guess... one of your friend's families visited one day... and you met his sister?"
"Cousin," Bruce grimaced. "And they weren't visiting, they actually lived in the same city, which was strange, but... anyway. It was awful. No clue what I was doing. Over in like two minutes. Every cliche you can imagine."
Selina laughed heartily, she couldn't help herself, and Bruce laughed with her. "That is awful. Poor little teenaged Bruce Wayne... I'm glad you outgrew those... issues."
"Me too," he chuckled. "If I hadn't, I doubt you would have stuck with me this long."
"I would have whipped you into shape," Selina replied, dipping a strawberry into some of the extra chocolate. Then she shook off the excess and brought it to Bruce's lips, and his eyes stayed on hers as he took a slow bite.
She grinned at the little bit of chocolate that lingered at the corner of his mouth. She pointed to her own mouth and said, "You've got a little... something..."
He tried to get it with his tongue but it was still there, so she shook her head and said, "I'll get it." Then she leaned forward across the small space between them and licked it off with the tip of her tongue.
He gave her a look that she knew very well as she pulled away, a smirk on her lips, and before she had time to even notice, he picked up the little saucer of chocolate and dripped it over her chest.
"Oops," he murmured, his eyes playful, and then he swooped down and licked off each drop. She giggled, unabashedly, and he grinned when he brought his head back up and kissed her.
"We'll never get around to dinner now," she smiled as he leaned back against the headboard, taking the platter and setting it aside. Then he put his hand on her belly, running over it to her side and then down to her hip.
"Why's that?"
"Because the chocolate ruined one of my appetites," she purred.
"How about the other one?"
"Didn't hurt it," she said before capturing his lips.
She was the aggressor this time, and she kissed him deeply as they lay facing one another, the sheet barely covering their legs at this point. He tasted like a cocktail of the things they'd been consuming, plus his natural taste that she couldn't describe in words, and he let her take the lead, only roaming her body with his hands and kissing her back fervently.
"Can I ask you a favor, Bruce?" she asked softly, just as her lips left his in favor of his neck.
She started suckling on one of his especially sensitive points on his neck, and he had to force his eyes open to keep them from rolling back in his head. "... What?"
She pulled away and brought her face level with his again. "Can you let go tonight?"
His expression went from dark with growing lust to confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you're always so controlled... it's not a bad thing, but... I want to see you just let go."
"You mean... do you want me to he rough?" he asked. "I'm not always exactly gentle."
"What I mean is," she said, running her hand down his hard chest and over his abdomen, "I don't want you to think. I don't want you to hold back like you were a few minutes ago."
"I -" her hand suddenly grasped him, and he had to focus hard to form words - "I knew you would... hurt at first..."
She grinned at his labored words, moving her hand languidly along his length. "I know. But it won't hurt this time. I see the look in your eye when we're together and I know you hold back sometimes. I don't know why you do, because you know I can handle it."
He blinked and said, "I don't... you were pregnant... your belly..."
She shut him up with a kiss, then released him now that he was back in peak form and ready for her. "I can take it, Bruce," she said when she pulled away, before dropping her lips down to his chest.
His skin was just a little bit salty from the sweat that had slicked it not long ago, and she savored being able to take her time, knowing the night was young and morning was still quite far away. But he apparently lacked her patience, because as she kissed and tasted the ridges of his abs, his hand came down to tangle in her hair and gently pushed her head down.
She smirked, thinking maybe he was letting go just a little bit, and she happily did as he requested and moved down, taking him in her hands again, looking up and making eye contact as she stroked him lightly. His hand was still in her hair, his eyes were fixed on her and his lips were parted as he breathed heavily through his mouth, waiting for her next move, which came when her tongue flicked out and ran over his tip. Her lips followed, then her mouth, and his head fell back against the headboard as he lost himself in the warmth of her.
He didn't have to guide her - he'd never had to, because apparently she could read his signals and desires like a book - and that left him with nothing to do but drown in her, fist so hard into her hair that he knew it would hurt her, and try not to completely lose it.
But, some part of his brain managed to vaguely register through the pleasure, she'd wanted him to lose it.
He felt himself getting close, she likely knew it as well but she didn't slow down, and he tried saying her name but she ignored him. Just seconds before he would have reached the point of no return, he gave her hair a yank and forced her head away. She looked up at him, a slightly irritated look on her flushed face until she saw his eyes, and then she grinned, because she knew what was coming next.
He let out a growl from the base of his throat and then lunged forward, grabbing her and putting her on her back with a hard thud, her head nearly dangling off the edge of the bed, her feet hitting the pillows at the top of the bed.
"Don't hold back," she said, raising her arms over her head, offering herself to him. He looked at the view she offered, noticed the little smirk still playing on her lips, and he wanted to wipe it off, make her mouth fall open in a fit of wordless pleasure, make her stop looking at him with that smug expression. As if she knew exactly what his next move would be.
He leaned down and grabbed her wrists in his hand, holding them down against the bed in an iron grip, and then he dipped his head down towards hers as if to kiss her. Her eyes closed and her lips parted, but he didn't kiss her, instead keeping his lips just too far away for hers to reach. She opened her eyes and narrowed them at him.
He took his free hand and ran it down her chest, touching her breast as much as he could without overstimulating it, and he grinned as she tried to move, tried to kiss him, and failed.
"Letting go means torture, does it?" Selina asked, eyebrow raised.
"Shut up."
That one took her aback, and a shiver shot down her spine. She gaped at him a little but liked this change. His wandering hand stopped between her legs, of course, and he applied pressure there as he lowered his lips to her ear and said, "Not a word unless its my name, understand?"
She nodded, her gaze meeting his heated, less controlled one, and he let go of her wrists. She didn't move them. He removed his hand and she missed the contact, but then he grabbed her by the thighs and pulled her down the bed until they were perfectly aligned, and he thrust into her without warning.
She wanted to yelp out a string of curses but bit her lip, not wanting to break his rule this early, but he was in deep on his first stroke and she was still so, so tight. It didn't hurt but it was on the thin borderline of pleasure and pain, and she stayed teetering on that line when he thrusted again and again.
She realized her eyes were clamped shut and then opened them, finding his eyes pooling with darkness as they stared down at her. Her nails were digging into the backs of his shoulders - she didn't even remember moving them from above her head - and she visibly shuddered under his gaze. He was powerful, beautiful, a little unhinged and lost, lost in pleasure that was making his arms shake as he held himself up.
Screw it, she thought - she'd lasted as long as she could. She pulled him down to her and forced him to kiss her, and he didn't fight her, kissing her with a tortured grunt as he moved within her. She shifted her lips away from his and whispered into his ear, "Harder."
He groaned and grabbed her hands away from his face and pushed them down on the bed, on either side of her head, covering them with his own and shifting his body for a better angle to pound into her. It was a change she welcomed with a gasp, and he didn't worry about hurting her, didn't think about anything, just let go, and trusted his body to know hers well enough to cause no pain and only pleasure.
She managed to interlock her fingers with his as he pounded her into the mattress, his hair flying back and forth around in his closed eyes in a sweat-dampened curtain, and then he moved a little bit again and hit her just right. She let out a cross between a yell and a moan, making his eyes fly open and fix upon her as she saw nothing but stars.
Over and over drove into her, over and over she couldn't stop from vocalizing what she was feeling, and when his hands left hers to better support himself, she reached up into that dangling hair of his and held on for dear life as she felt the uncoiling begin, like a spring that had been wound to its limit and then snapped.
Her nails dug into his scalp, though he barely felt it, and he watched as she reached her pinnacle for the third time that night with a silent scream, one that was beyond her ability to express, and she pulsed so hard and tightly around him that he reached his end only a moment later, unable to withstand it and not caring to try.
He stayed inside of her as they lay there, backwards on the bed, dazed, a little confused, and on Bruce's part once his senses returned, concerned.
He raised his head from its place resting in the crook of her neck and looked down at her, worry etched in his face. Her hair was ruined, her makeup smeared and eyes closed as she panted, and he quietly asked, "Did I... hurt you?"
She laughed, still not opening her eyes. "That was... the opposite of hurting."
"You sure?" he asked, pushing the hair out of her face and making sure he wasn't crushing her with his weight.
"I told you," she reminded him, looking up at him with her warm brown eyes, "I can take it. I might not be able to walk tomorrow, but I can take it."
He kissed her cheek softly. "I know you can. I just don't always want you to."
"Sometimes," she said, cupping his cheek, "a girl needs some roughness. Not being able to walk isn't always a bad thing." She pushed his hair back flat on his head, being nearly wet enough to slick back, and she got a good, unobstructed look at his face then. "You really are beautiful, you know that?"
"Not as beautiful as you," he replied, tracing the outline of her bottom lip with his thumb.
She shook her head slightly. "It used to hurt me to look at you. For the longest time. I'd get this pain in my chest... I thought there was something actually wrong with me for awhile."
He furrowed his brows and shifted to his side, taking her with them, and then they lay facing each other, still connected in the most intimate of ways. "You never told me that."
She gave a light shrug. "I didn't tell you a lot of things back then."
"And now?"
She smiled. "I tell you most things."
"Most," he repeated. "All right. So tell me the truth. Do you regret any of this?"
"This," she repeated, seeking clarification.
"Us," he said. "Our life together. Decisions we've made. How fast we moved."
"No," she answered without hesitation. "My only regrets involving you all have to do with the crappy way I treat you sometimes. And the obvious."
"Do you still dream about it?" He asked softly. "About... Bane."
"Not since Helena was born," she replied. "But I haven't dreamed at all since then. Not enough consecutive hours of sleep. Why are we suddenly playing 20 questions?"
He shrugged. "Ask me something then."
She paused and thought carefully. "Do you think you'll ever get sick of me? Sick of sleeping with the same woman over and over?"
"First of all," he said, "no. And second... you're not the same woman every time. I never know what I'm going to get, if you're going to want me to make love to you or..." his eyes drifted to the part of the bed he'd just taken her on, "fuck you. Or both."
"I'm a girl of many moods," she grinned. Then she asked, "When did you fall in love with me?"
"It was gradual," he replied. "I tried not to, because I was scared. But, I also knew I'd never find another woman in the world who could understand me the way that you do."
"Stuck with me, huh?" she teased.
He shook his head. "Not stuck. Lucky. Privileged. But, to answer your question... when you took care of me in Italy when I was out of it for three days. I woke up and saw you sitting there in a chair, trying to sleep, realized what you'd been doing for me the whole time I was out... I thought you would have run."
"I thought I would too," she remarked.
"But you didn't."
"Do you still think about Rachel?"
She watched his reaction to this one closely. She expected discomfort, shifting, averted gazes, but he kept his eyes on hers and answered calmly. "Sometimes. But not in the way that I used to."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that I've made peace with that part of my life," he said, "and with her. And the truth about my feelings for her."
"And...?"
"I loved her. I loved her since we were kids. But not like I love you. Never like I love you. I just... loved the idea of being in love with her, and she was all I had left of my childhood. She made sense to me when nothing else did."
"I'm sorry you lost her," Selina said softly. "From what you've told me, I think I may have even liked her. Once I got past the initial hatred. By the way, it doesn't strike you as weird that we're talking about this while you're still.. in me?"
"Does that make you uncomfortable?" he asked, a grin starting to form at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh please," she scoffed. "It's just... a little odd."
He chuckled and shifted, then slid out of her at last. She felt oddly empty then, and felt a chill rush over her as he sat up and grabbed a few pillows and grabbed the comforter, making them a cozy spot at the foot of the bed so she wouldn't have to move. He pulled the cover up and over her, slid one of the pillows under her head, and then pulled her close to him under the covers.
"Would you mind calling Alfred one more time tonight?" Selina asked as her eyes fluttered shut.
"I will," he assured her. "I promise. Go to sleep."
"I wish I could stay up all night with you," she said, yawning as the sudden fatigue hit her. "I feel like I'm wasting tonight by falling asleep."
"You're not," he murmured. "Sleep."
She sighed and then let herself drift off, exhausted and satisfied and happy. Bruce did as he promised and called Alfred, who reported that Helena was asleep herself after a long day of playing happily with himself and Leslie. Bruce thanked him again and then hung up, returning to Selina's side, falling into a deep sleep alongside her.