Disclaimer:I do not own Sky High, its setting, premise, or characters -or related characters named and unnamed. All is the property of Walt Disney Pictures, Buena Vista Pictures, Andrew Gunn, and Mark McCorkie.

Between Peace and Battle

Chapter Two: How the First Date Went

Battle had no idea why he was going through with this. He should just stand her up. Stupid naïve hero. He didn't owe her his time, never mind dinner, a show, and –possibly- the mind-blowing villain sex he provided.

And yet, here he was. Pulled up to the address she'd given him. Freshly showered and shaved. Long dark curls somewhat tamed and twisted up into a neat man-bun. Wearing contacts instead of his glasses. A black dress-shirt under a dark burgundy blazer –both of them Italian cut. Black slacks and freshly polished shoes.

He pulled up to the curb and cut the engine. But before he got out to go knock on the door, Battle asked himself if he was really doing this. Was he really about to take a hero out on a date? He shouldn't. He was a villain. It was unheard of! It just wasn't done. No, sir. It was not done! He should turn around and go back home. Or go to Divide, dance with some other women, find a nasty villainess and take her back to his bed. He was already all dressed up.

But then he thought about her playful flirting, her shameless innuendo, and her brazen boldness when she informedhim that he was taking her out on a date. There was a level of demand, and command in her that was very villainish, and Battle liked it. She was independent and bold. She knew what she wanted and she took it.

That was the reason he found himself getting out of the car and walking up to the door.

A house. Small. Only one story. Probably a two bedroom one bath deal. Not particularly high end, Flamebird –Mara Peace- obviously wasn't wealthy. But still more than a young and single woman living alone could afford. She clearly came from some version of money.

An older woman answered the door when he knocked.

…Or she still lived with her parents.

How… how young was she? Battle noted that she was younger than him already, but… he thought the gap was small.

He cleared his throat. Battle never dated back in high school. He never had to ask a parent for permission to take their daughter out.

"You're the one from the other day." She glared at him.

"You're Dove." He nodded, recognizing her voice. Suspicions confirmed. Flamebird lived with her mother.

"And you're trouble." Dove informed him, disapproval dripping from every syllable.

This was awkward. He really shouldn't have come. He should have stood her up. He was a villain. That was what villains did. Broke promises –even if he never explicitly agreed to the date- and disappointed fair ladies. They did not try and reassure concerned mothers that he would behave honorably and respectfully towards her daughter. He should leave. He should leave now. This was a bad idea.

"Oh, you're here!" Mara appeared behind her mother, dressed in a coral pink dress. Sleeveless, strapless, skin tight, and short. It was a tube of semi-shiny satin that hugged every curve of her body. Breasts, hips, and that deliciously pert round ass. All simultaneously concealed yet displayed by that tiny little dress. "You're right on time."

She sounded like she had doubted he'd come at all. Guess her mother had taken the time leading up to this moment to discourage her, and debase his character in any way possible.

"I just gotta put my shoes on."

He assumed there was some kind of shoe rack next to the door, because Mara seemed to pull a pair of strappy heels out of nowhere. High stilettos that did nice things to her calves and made that pert little ass seem so much perkier. Battle felt his mouth water. He didn't know if he was strong enough to endure this date. Hero or villain, she was too fucking hot for him –no pun intended.

Mara grabbed a purse –no, a handbag- that was bigger than her dress, and pushed past her mother. Before Battle knew it, he was holding the car door open for her like he was some kind of fucking gentleman. What was happening?

The show was a blur to Battle. He tried to pick something a hero wouldn't like (to discourage any second dates). Something bloody, violent, where the protagonist was an objectively bad person the audience was not supposed to like, and the antagonists were even worse by comparison. Then near the climax, the female lead stabbed a male antagonist who assaulted her early in the movie, and Mara leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Who's penetrating who now."

And he couldn't fucking help himself. Battle burst out laughing. As the screen zoomed in on the handle of the knife and the exaggerated theatrical blood pumped out of the body, Battle doubled over in his seat, holding his sides and laughing hysterically loud. People turned around in their seats to glare reproachfully at him.

Fuck!

What kind of sense of humor was that? That was so fucking dark! What kind of hero was she?

When Battle finally got himself back under control he had to wipe tears from his eyes. He hadn't laughed that hard in years. He glanced sideways at Mara. She was also grinning, though it was impossible to tell if she was grinning from her own dark joke, or his reaction to it. Damn. She just got, like, a million times hotter, and it had nothing to do with the way that tiny little dress rode up when she sat.

Dinner was even more stimulating.

She said she liked Asian food, so he made reservations at a small family owned Chinese restaurant. The Paper Lantern. Nothing big or fancy. He didn't want to throw his money around too much. She might ask how he managed to become so wealthy and then wouldn't that be an awkward dinner topic.

"So, who's Philippa Foot?" He asked over an order of bao that they seemed to be splitting. Battle didn't recall offering to share with her. He ordered it as an appetizer and she just reached across and took one. Bold as you please. Bold as she'd been since the fucking moment they met. "You said on our date we were gonna discuss Philippa Foot. So, who is she?"

"Ah. Right." Mara nodded and hurried to swallow the bite of hisbao that she'd taken. "Philippa Foot was a British philosopher from the 60s. She came up with the original version of the Trolley Problem."

"And that is…?" Battle urged her to explain, twisting his chopsticks in his hand in a sort of 'go on' gesture.

Mara took her dear sweet time finished off the rest of the bao she'd stolen off his plate before answering. "The Trolley Problem was a thought experiment she came up with in 1967. It posits the scenario that you're the conductor on a rail trolley, but the breaks are out and your trolley is speeding out of control. You can't stop it, but you can still control to rail switches."

"Sounds exciting." Battle pulled the remaining two bao onto his own plate before she could reach for them. It was his appetizer, damn it! If she wanted some she could have ordered her own!

"I guess." She was eyeing his bao, but said nothing. "Anyway, you're coming to a fork in the rails and have to choose a path. But on one track there are five people, and on the other track there's one person. No matter what you choose, you'll end up killing someone."

"So, it's –literally- the exact same argument I made to you the other day when I killed the monsters." Battle concluded.

Mara nodded. "Most cultures and ethical standards across the world tend to agree that killing is wrong. But if a person is in a situation where there is no other option but to kill, then which murder is the least ethically damning?"

"Not 'murder'." Battle shook his head.

"Huh?" She blinked at him.

"'Murder' is a legal term." He explained. "Its applied to any killing deemed unlawful or unsanctioned, as determined by the laws of the land. In the scenario you described, any deaths from an out of control rail car would be deemed accidental." A pause. "Maybe vehicular manslaughter, at worst. But not murder."

Battle had some experience with the 'accidental death' versus murder arguments.

"That's… not really the take-away of this problem." Mara told him.

"But it's not a problem." He shrugged. "Not for me. I already made my decision. Yesterday. When I killed two monsters to keep my city from being destroyed. And it wasn't hard. You protect your Home Ground."

A server brought them their main courses and they temporarily paused the conversation just in case the server over heard. It wasn't overtly obvious that they were supers, but there was still no point in taking chances. Heroes wore masks and took fake names for a reason, after all.

Mara eyed his shrimp lo mein from over her own spicy szechwan chicken. Battle pulled the plate closer to himself and glared a challenge at her. She smiled back at him, picked up her chopsticks and popped a bite of chicken in her mouth. Then added several spoonfuls of the spicy chili sauce on the table. Battle supposed fire users liked it hot.

"Okay, but suppose the situation is different." Mara insisted, swinging back to their conversation. "Suppose the five people on one track all voted for Regan, and the one person on the other track is working selflessly to help his partner pay for his HIV meds."

"Well, damn. This got political all of a sudden!" Battle bit into a shrimp, ripping the tail off with his fingers.

She glared a challenge at him. "Do you have a problem with talking politics over dinner?"

He had no compelling political views one way or another. If he did, he wouldn't be able to take half the jobs he accepted. Political assassination or other intrigues made up a big portion of his business. "How would I know who the five voted for, or that the one just wanted to save his gay lover? Are they wearing signs?"

"For the purpose of the problem, you just know."

Battle twirled his noodles around on his chop sticks. He, personally, didn't care. In this scenario he wasn't being paid to kill any particular one of them, nor was he being paid to save any particular one of them. He had literally nothing invested in the problem. So, what answer would satisfy the hero sitting across the table from him…? Obviously, she was liberal and soft hearted. So…

"The one working to pay medical expenses," he began, "is he working onthe rails? Does he do maintenance? Keep things working right so accidents like this don't happen? Could he fix the trolley's breaks after it finally stops? Would saving his onelife save morelives in the long run?"

Mara smiled at him. Apparently, that was exactly the answer she wanted to hear. Battle didn't know why he was so relived to have given the answer she wanted. It wasn't like he wanted this woman to like him beyond this night. He was just doing this because she fascinated him, but was a hero, and so just needed to humor this odd fascination in order to get her out of his system. Once this night was over and he didn't care about her anymore, he never had to see or think about her again. Why should it matter that she flew away with a positive opinion of him?

"I gotta say, it's nice to meet another super who considers the long-term consequences, not just the immediate ones." She admitted. "Take the other day for example. Big monsters destroying the city. Okay. But when you put them down, their fall smashed people's homes, cracked the concrete, flooded the streets with weird alien blood. The city is gonna be cleaning that up for weeks, maybe months as far as repairing damages goes. That cost money. Money that comes from the citizens. Taxes. Every year, our taxes go up because most supers don't know how to keep their fights under control."

Battle was unmoved. He was not a mundane, and his skills allowed him to preform services that earned him more money than he –honestly- knew what to do with. But, he could empathize with her frustration of heroes not knowing how to keep their fights under control. Nothing ruined his day more than being inconvenienced by Steve Stronghold throwing a mutant through his local grocery store.

"That's just the economical repercussions." Mara continued. "But consider the social ones. Those monsters were aliens. That proves that there is other life out there with technology capable of traveling through space and meeting us. What if the next visitors truly do come in peace and just want to exchange goods and culture. But because of yesterday's attack, we don't trust them. We assume the worst. We shoot first and ask questions later. Catapult the Commander into their mothership so he can smash things up like he tends to do."

Battle almost snorted into his food. He was not expecting a hero to have a similar opinion of Steve Stronghold as he did. Most heroes he met –which, admittedly was not many- seemed to place the Commander on a pedestal. Like he was some kind of god. Infallible. That could do no wrong. It was nice to meet someone who thought his only actual skill was 'smashing things up'. Damn if she didn't just become even hotter! Battle was afraid to admit it, even to himself –especially to himself- but he was kinda starting to like this hero. Like, likeher, like her. What kind of hero was she? What kind of person was she?

"What do you do?" He found himself asking, taking an interest in her life. In who she was outside of costume. "Like, as your day job. What are your days like?"

"Oh, I'm a librarian." She smiled and took another bite of her spicy szechwan that was smothered in extra spicy chilies.

Battle did another sweep of her with his eyes. Noting the redder-than-red hair, teased up into that perm that was so popular, neck and shoulders bare, olive skin exposed for his eyes to appreciate, the cut of her dress low, displaying cleavage that –while not very large- was round, perfectly shaped, and inviting, the coral pink satin of her dress hugging her curves until they disappeared from his view under the table. She was a librarian?

"A naughty librarian?" He heard himself asking without making the conscious decision to speak.

"No." She informed him flatly. "When I'm at work, I'm working. There is literally too much to do, I don't have time to cater to people's fetishized views of my job."

Oh. She sounded legitimately annoyed now. He hit a nerve.

"The other day, someone brought their out-of-control kid in and –while they were studying quietly with their walkman over their ears- this little hellion goes running all over the place, pulling out the drawers of the card catalogue and spilling the cards all over the place. Do you know how long it takes to organize all those cards? Every book in the library is on those cards! Hell! I would still be organizing those cards right now if it wasn't for the stupid monster attack! I don't have time to have sex at work. How can you even get horny at work? Work isn't sexy. It's work!Do you get horny at your job? What do you do for a living?"

Damn. Okay. He opened up a can of worms there. Apparently, she was full of innuendos and brazen propositions while doing her heroing. That was fun to her. It wasn't a job. It wasn't work. At most, it was community service. More likely, an exciting hobby, like sky diving.

Battle cleared his throat. He never really was sure how to explain his job to mundanes. Mara Peace wasn't a mundane, but she was a hero. A hero who seemed to still not have figured out that he was a villain. "I work a commission based job." He finally decided that was safe enough. "I pick and choose my clients, do the job, and collect payment."

"Okay, but what do you do?" She pressed. "Lots of jobs are commission based. Are you a lawyer? Realtor? Car salesman? Plumber?"

Damn. He wasn't prepared for follow-up questions. Fuck. "I'm a super for hire."

"Oh." Was that surprise or disappointment? Battle couldn't tell. "I guess I don't know what I was expecting. I mean, you had a costume, and you seemed to know what you were doing. I just assumed you were one of those niche heroes that I haven't heard of because I just don't move in those circles. But you're a hero for hire. Isn't that a little unethical."

He did not say 'hero' for hire. He said 'super' for hire. And, clearly, she was still ignorant of the –what he thought was a very obvious- fact that he was a supervillain.

Battle leaned back in his chair. "Mm. But doesn't the Trolley Problem you just introduced me to teach that ethics are subjective? There is no such thing as 'absolute good'. Regardless of what your high school super courses might try and teach you."

"Oh, did you go to Sky High too?" Mara asked, changing the subject.

"Class of 1978." He nodded. Not that he graduated with high honors or anything. At least he didn't drop out and disappear like some people from the group he hung out with.

"No way! We were there at the same time!" She smiled from across the table. "I'm class of '81. My freshman year was your senior year! Maybe we've already met and didn't even realize it."

Battle doubted it. Yeah, he had a lot going on in high school. Complicated family life, problems with a dumbass meat-head rival, general teenage hormones making everything seem so much more extreme than it needed to be… Even so, Battle was pretty sure he would have remembered a freshman with an ass like hers. He was preoccupied in high school. Not blind or dead.

Instead he said, "They don't teach complicated ethics at Sky High. They push the idea of absolute good and absolute bad. No middle ground. Everything black and white, no shades of gray."

"You sound kinda bitter about that." She noted.

"Not all heroes are good people." He informed her, and yes, his voice was definitely, definitely bitter when he said that. Even to his own ears.

But talking about high school made him remember all the shit that was going on while he was in high school. His shitty home life and his shitty father. Paladin, the hero without sin. Fuck! If they only knew what he was like out of costume and behind closed doors! Hero without sin, Battle's ass! 'Accidental death', his ass! Battle wasn't aware his fists were clenched until the chopsticks in his hand snapped under the pressure.

"Are you okay?" Mara asked.

"Fine." He lied. He was usually very good at lying, just not at this exact moment. "I don't wanna talk about high school anymore. Tell me where you learned all this alternative moral theory and ethics."

"Why, from my local public library, of course." She gave him a dazzling smile. Like she was preforming for a Saturday morning TV spot to promote literacy and raise community support for public libraries.

The server returned.

"May I get you a new pair of sticks?" They offered.

Battle looked at the broken chop sticks he was still holding. "No. But a to-go box would be nice."

"A box for me too, please." Mara added. It seemed she was done with this dinner too, but for entirely different reasons than he was.

"And the check." Battle added.

…

"So, where to next?" Mara asked when they were back in his car. "Did you have another activity lined up, or just back to your place?"

"My place?" Battle asked, feeling his cheeks warm again and thanking the monster attack for proving shitty, half-broken street lighting to hide the blush. Fuck! He was not some modest little school boy. How did this woman manage to make him feel like one? It couldn't justbe because she was brazen, aggressive –almost predatory in an appealing sort of way- and without shame.

"Well, I certainly can't take you back to my place." She laughed from the passenger seat.

Right. Because she still lived with her mother. Well, at least Battle could be reassured that she didn't still live with her mother because she was too young. Class of '81 would mean she was twenty-two now. It might be a bit old to still be living with a parent, but it was a perfectly reasonable age to take back to his place and bed down with.

That was what lead Battle to pulling into the parking garage under the Spear, and showing her up to his condo.

"Wow! This place is so much nicer from the inside!" Mara bent down to unstrap her heels the moment she was through the door –and Battle really, really appreciated just how shortthat dress really was! She laid them neatly by the threshold, as if taking her shoes off when she entered a home was a well practiced habit. "Do you, like, have rich parents or something? Class of '78 you've gotta be, what, twenty-five? How'd you get rich enough to afford a place like this so young?"

"Like I said, I'm a super for hire." Battle reminded her, closing the door behind them and locking it. "People pay me very good money to do what I do."

He shrugged off his blazer and crossed the room to her. Stalked towards her was more like it, but not in a supervillain 'I'm gonna stab you in the back' sort of way. More of a, 'I wanna touch this woman but I also don't know how she's gonna shock me next' sort of way. She was far too aggressive and assertive of what she wanted from a man to be a hero, but too community-minded and caring to be a villain. She was like an antithesis to everything they tried –and failed- to teach him in school. She wasn't pure good or pure bad. She was just… Mara Peace.

Leaning over her, he –very casually- tossed his blazer onto the couch. Battle didn't realize just how short she was until now. Without those ridiculously high heels on, when she wasn't flying around the city, or dropping him onto monsters. She was a petite little thing. The top of her head only coming up to his collarbone (the top of her ridiculous 80s perm coming up to his chin). Battle was six-two, so Mara had to be what? Five feet? Less? And she was so slender and lean. She was tiny! How was he going to do what she seemed keen on doing without ripping her little body in half? Right up the middle.

"So here we are." He whispered in her ear, having to lean his head down to do so. She was so short. Battle was almost curled over her, trapping her in. "What did you have in mind when you invited yourself over?"

In answer, she arched her back. That pert round ass of hers rubbing against the front of his slacks. Fuck! The way those hips moved. She should come with a warning label!

"What'd you think I had in mind?" She growled back, moving that ass of hers in just the right way to leave absolutely no room for misinterpretation of her intentions. "So, Mr. Black Leather, what's your safe word?"

He nipped playfully at the shell of her ear. Not hard, just enough for her to feel his teeth gently scrape over her skin.

"The safe word is 'ow'." He promised.

Battle would never intentionally and knowingly harm his partners. Sure, he enjoyed the almost electrical throb in his knuckles when a punch connected with an enemy's face. Or the satisfying snapwhen he broke a target's neck. Yes, he could be a violent and vicious man. But that was all business. Pleasureshould be about pleasure. Mutualpleasure.

But Mara pulled away at that. Turning around, she looked up at him with disappointed hazel eyes. "You expect me to stop what I'm doing the first time you say 'ow'?"

"What?" He blinked down at her. Well, Battle had been wondering how she was going to shock him next. He felt his cheeks warm with another blush. How did she manage to do this to him? "You, uh… what, um, what would you be doing to make me say 'ow'?"

She shrugged. Shrugged as if it was something he should already know and expect, and it was no big deal. "The usual. Oh! No marks that I can't cover up at work, though! It's bad enough just being a young, pretty, female librarian. I don't wanna have to explain penalties for overdue books with a fresh hickey or bruise showing."

Bruise?

Fuck!

Battle might have sputtered. What this woman –what this hero- was describing was downright rough! Battle didn't think heroes were into rough sex. He didn't think they were allowedto. He thought they were all gentle love making in the missionary position, then thanked their partner for a charming evening, and slept in separate beds… admittedly, Battle's conceptions of hero sex were limited to what he overheard in villain gossip. Villains loved to talk shit about the heroes and nobody cared if it was actually true or not.

He never would have imagined a hero would be a… would be a… a bad girl!

"Well?" Mara asked.

"Well, what?" Battle blinked at her. He wondered how many more times before this night was over that she was gonna shock him.

"Are you gonna show me to the bedroom, or should I just put my shoes back on and go?"

Oh, yeah, like fuck was he gonna kick her out after implying that he couldn't handle sex with her. Battle wasn't in the habit of backing down from a challenge and she just challenged him. Without preamble, he swept her up into his arms to carry her to his bed.

She was so fucking light! Were all flyers this light? Or was it because she was so small?

He kicked the bedroom door open with an unnecessary BANG, and crossed the room to his bed.

Battle kept his bed as far from the door as possible. Shoved in the corner. He liked to sleep with a wall at his back. Other bed partners in the past had complained that it made getting in and out inconvenient if one had to crawl over the other just to take a piss in the night. But Battle didn't care. It was his bed and he had to fucking sleepin it, it wasn'tjustfor sex, and he couldn't sleep if his back was unguarded.

He unceremoniously tossed Mara onto it.

Her light little body bounced on the spring mattress.

Battle kicked off his shoes and started unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly. One button at a time. She had been moving fast from the first moment she plucked him out of freefall the other day –fast and hot- and he needed to take a moment to slow things down. Cool off. Gain back a little control over what was happening here. Like fuck was Barron Battle gonna let a hero dominate how things were done in hisbedroom!

She licked her lips when he shrugged it off his shoulders. Revealing muscular forearms, perfectly sculpted pectorals, tight toned abdominals. All of it covered in a light dusting of dark chest hair. Lifting one hand, Mara made a 'come hither' gesture with her finger. Beckoning him forward. Battle already had one knee on the bed before he realized that he was letting her dictate the pace again. He froze, half on the bed, half off. How did she keep doing this to him?

Mara closed the distance between them. Grabbing his head by fistfuls of his curls and pulled his face down to meet hers. Nails scraping his scalp. She pressed their lips together, hers parting to invite him in. When Battle didn't immediately oblige, she shoved her tongue into his mouth instead.

Fuck! This woman moved fast! Where was the chase? Where was the seduction? Where was the conquest?

When she allowed their lips to part again, Mara scrapped her teeth over his bottom lip, biting down just before her mouth left his completely. Biting down hard. Enough to draw blood. Battle blinked at her, tasting his own blood in his mouth even as he felt the wound heal.

Her hazel eyes went wide when she saw the bite she gave him close almost instantly. Then her eyebrows came back down as her mouth upturned in a predatory smile. "You heal fast."

Battle opened his mouth to say something witty. But before even a syllable could escape his freshly healed lips, she was gabbing at his curls again, pulling his hair, and dragging him all the way onto the bed. He wasn't quite sure how, there was a twist, then a tumble, but somehow that tiny little hero got him under her.

She sat on top of Battle straddling his hips and smiling down at him as if this were the most fun she'd had all year. He just stared at her, wide eyed. He was not used to his partner being the dominant party. This was an entirely new experience for Battle. But not entirely unpleasant. She'd shocked him enough since he met her that he seemed to be out of shocks to give. Now he was just along for the ride, and Mara Peace was one fucking wild ride already and they hadn't even gotten their pants off yet!

Reaching her hands behind her, Mara tried to work the zipper of her dress. The deliciously tight coral satin had ridden up her thighs, but it really wasn't revealing much more than it already revealed just existing –it really was a tiny dress. After several moments of trying and not succeeding, Mara finally climbed over his legs to turn around. "Could you…?"

Battle paused a moment to appreciate the view she was giving him. Coral pink fabric riding up round hips to show off just the bottoms of her ass. Smooth, round, creamy olive skin, and just a peaking of black lace panties sliding between the cheeks. She had the best ass in Maxville! But she probably wouldn't let him fuck her in it, would she. By this point, Battle was absolutely sure he wasn't going to get to do anything without her absolute permission –more likely command.

"It's not that complicated a zipper." Mara informed him.

Reaching one hand up, Battle pulled the zipper down in one smooth motion. The coral satin fell away from her back and Mara pulled the rest of the dress off over her head. No bra, he noted. That perk in her breasts he noted earlier was all natural. Nothing pushing them up.

She turned back around to face him and Battle thought he was done being shocked for the night, but it seemed Mara Peace still had one more shock to give him. More piercings.

Her belly ring he'd already noted. It was hard to miss when she was in her hero costume. Fake gold with a red gem that was likely colored glass. It was still in attendance, shining at him in the dim bedroom light. But he didn't realize that both her nipples were pierced too. Not until they were bared naked for him. A barrel piercing in each, more fake gold but no red glass.

"You okay?" She asked, tilting her head to the side, crimson hair falling in such a way that it almost covered on pierced nipple.

"I, uh… huh?" Battle blinked at her.

"You look a little startled." She informed him. "Don't tell me you've only been with girls who are plain vanilla no sprinkles."

He didn't know what that meant. "I wasn't expecting so much… hardware. Are there… anymore I should know about?"

Mara gave an unfeminine snort of laughter. Covering her nose with a hand. "What, are you wondering if my clit is pierced too?"

His eyes darted down to those black lace panties, the only piece of clothing she was still wearing.

"It's not." She told him.

Battle didn't realize he was tense until he felt his body relax.

Mara continued to stare at him. "Are you sure you want this?" She asked. "You seem kinda nervous. I gotta admit, this is not what I expected when you showed up to a super fight in black leather and studs. Do you wanna stop?"

"What?" Like fuck was he gonna stop after it had already come this far!

"You just don't seem all that into it." Mara informed him. "Consent is kinda important and, while you haven't actually said 'no', you also haven't really been… actively participating."

What was happening here? Battle blinked at her. What was happening here!? Did this woman somehow gain so much control over him that she thought she was taking advantage? Like some kind of… villain? And he had fallen into the place of the captured hero? Or worse! A citizen!?

Battle grabbed for her hips. No, he grabbed her ass. He'd been wanting to touch that ass since he first saw her, so he did. Hands cupping and squeezing both cheeks, fingers ghosting over the lace between them to tease her crack. He bucked his hips up so that she could very clearly feel that he was still interested and still ready to go. Like fuck was he gonna get scared off by some tiny little herothat liked to play at being bad!

"If you stop, I'll never forgive you."

She smiled down at him. "Do you wanna revisit the safe word conversation? I usually use 'sonnet'. If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just say that and I'll stop. Okay?"

Challenge accepted. Battle was determined to never utter that word. "Do your worst!"

Mara looked like she was about to say more. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped. Instead, her eyes turned downward, resting on his belt buckle. Small deft hands began unfastening it. Battle was obliging enough to raise his hips so she could pull it out from around his waist.

He was expecting her to throw it across the room and then tear into his pants. He was notexpecting her to grab both his wrists, raise them above his head, then wrap the belt around them. Pulling the strap tight so that the heels of his hands rubbed together. She tied the length of the belt to the metal frame of his bed's headboard. Battle gave it an experimental tug. He could still get out if he needed to. The headboard would break before the belt did, but he could escape if he needed to. He could still defend himself against the hero if he needed to.

Mara's hands slid from where she tied his hands up. Down his arms to lightly tickle his armpits. Palms ghosting down his sides. Until, finally, they came to rest at the waistband of his slacks.

Fingers worked the button, then the zipper. Sliding between the material, Battle didn't even realize how quickly her hands moved until his erection bobbed out.

Thick and long. Veins throbbing through the foreskin. A bead of pre-cum already threatening to drip down the shaft. He'd been stiff almost from the moment he picked her up from her house and now her mouth was so close to it! He could feel her hot breath on the sensitive skin.

Mara smiled at it. Tucking a strand of scarlet hair behind one ear. "I was kinda hoping." She whispered, breath ghosting down his shaft. "After I saw you in your towel."

Battle bucked his hips, trying to get the head closer to her mouth. But she lifted her face just out of its reach. Battle thought about grabbing her face and shoving it down on his cock, but he forgot his hands were bound and all he succeeded in doing was straining the screws that held his headboard to the wall. Her eyes darted up to his with a silent laugh. Slumping back against his headboard, he stared at her. Barron Battle didn't know you could torture a person without causing a single ounce of pain.

"Well?" He demanded. "Are you gonna do something with it, or just breath on it?"

"So impatient." Mara smiled at him.

She hooked her fingers in the waist bands of both his slacks and his underwear and pulled them both down together. Sliding off the bed, she pulled one leg off, then the other. Finally, Battle was wearing nothing but his socks –and his belt, too, he supposed.

Mara stood there, at the end of the bed, admiring his naked body. Muscular and sculpted calves, covered in dark leg hair, toned thighs, narrow hips. Thick veiny cock rising up out of a forest of dark curled pubic hair. She licked her lips again. There was just something so deliciously maleabout all that dark hair and muscle and Mara drank in every rippling inch of it.

Locking eyes with Battle, she flashed him a teasing smile, hooked her thumbs in her own lace panties, and slid them off her round hips. They slipped down her legs to rest in a pool on the floor. More creamy olive skin, absent of tan lines. Smooth and unblemished all the way down to the lips of her sex. Waxed and balled. Not a thread of hair. Of course, having such a revealing hero costume, she wouldbe diligent with her grooming down there. Mara stepped out of them as crawled onto the bed.

Battle felt a lump of anticipation form in his throat and he felt himself swallow with nerves. He was somehow so much more aware of the belt binding his hands as Mara Peace bend her head down and started trailing light kisses up the inside of his legs.

Starting at the ankles. Just the slightest brush of lips against hairy skin. The touch was so light. A kiss on his ankle, his mid-calf, his upper calf, the inside of his knee. Every caress of her mouth was so gentle, yet each one sent an almost electric shock of excitement up his whole body.

But when she passed the knee, getting to the softer, more tender skin of his thighs, Mara changed from kissing to biting. Teeth scrapping against the inside of his thighs. Each bite getting harder than the first. Just a little nip of front teeth on his lower thigh. Incisors on his mid-thigh. Canines on his upper thigh. Battle gave a very undignified yip of mingled surprise and pain when she bit down hard on the sensitive skin of his upper thigh, dangerously close to his balls.

Mara's head came up instantly, her hazel eyes full of concern. "If you don't like something, just use the safe word."

Fuck the safe word! He wasn't gonna let her beat him! He'd taken worse than this! No hero was gonna get him to say 'uncle'! Bring it on, Sparky! Out loud, he said, "I… was expecting a little more attention… elsewhere."

Here eyes flicked back down to his straining penis. She smiled again. "Aw… does this guy feel neglected?"

Battle watched with suspended breath as he face bend down, lips parted, mouth open. He felt her hot breath on the head. Then the shaft. Then he realized she was still teasing him. Her mouth continued to travel lower. Lower. Until her lips pressed a kiss to his balls. Battle let out an undignified whimper of desperation. He wanted her to do something to his cock so badly! If not suck it then just stroke it with her hand. Something! Give him something! He was dying here!

Then she took his balls in her mouth and Battle forgot how to form complexed thoughts for a moment.

His head snapped back as he let out a violent moan. Sounding loud even to his own ears. He would have clapped a hand over his own mouth in embarrassment, but his hands were still bound. All he succeeded in doing was shaking the headboard.

Gently sucking on his sack, Mara flicked her tongue over one testicle, then the other. Then her tongue slid upwards to prod gently at the base of his shaft where it joined his balls.

Battle moaned again. Fuck! Where did a hero learn to do this!?

Releasing his balls from her mouth, Mara licked one long stroke up his shaft as she raised her head back up. Battle didn't realize he was panting until they locked eyes again.

"Was that the kind of attention you were expecting?" She asked coyly, almost mockingly.

Battle bared his teeth challengingly. "You know what I was expecting."

Mara tapped her chin, as if thinking. "Oh, yes, dicks are always expecting to be put in mouths." Her hand drifted down to ghost her fingers over his shaft. Not enough to be a caress, but just enough to make him keen for more. "But what do I get out of that?"

"The power of knowing you can bring that kind of pleasure." He suggested. It was the reason he liked making his partners cum. The ego boost.

"Yeah, that sounds great and all." Mara admitted. "But I'd really just rather get to cum myself instead of making it happen for someone else."

Battle was about to promise her that he wouldn't cum from just a little fellatio, and even if he did, his body recovered quickly. Barron Battle had never left a partner unsatisfied and he wasn't about to start now –even if his current partner was a fucking hero! He didn't get to utter a word, however. Every coherent thought vanished from his head again when Mara climbed to her feet, braced one foot against the headboard close to where she'd tied his hands, and shoved her balled, wet, pussy in his face.

"Make me cum and maybeI'll consider sucking your dick!" She commanded.

Eyes wide, Battle stared up her body. Past the lips of her sex, over the flat plain of her belly. From his angle, her face was partially blocked by her pierced tits sticking out from her chest, but from between her breasts he could see her grinning down at him. She was enjoying this. Dominating him. Pushing him around and dealing out commands. Barking orders selfishly like a… like a villain!

But Battle was kinda liking it too. He liked assertive, aggressive women. Who knew what they wanted and went for what they wanted. More often than not, when Battle got a woman to his bed, she turned into a fucking pillow princess. She would lay there and get fucked. Enjoying every forceful thrust of his hips as he moved his cock inside her. But she wouldn't fuck back. She would take it. Not give it. But not Mara. She was an active participant. Morethan just an active participant.

Leaning his face up, Battle licked up her moist slit. Tasting her juices and deciding very quickly that he liked the flavor.

Fresh and clear. With a heady flavor that made his head go all fuzzy.

When he licked again, he made his tongue go deeper. Parting her folds. Exploring her. Wiggling his tongue upwards Battle searched for that delicate bud of nerves she assured him wasn't pierced.

Mara moaned when his tongue found her clit. Hands resting on his head for balance. Fisting his hair with gentle appreciation. "That's a good boy." She sighed. "Just like that."

Battle preened at the praise and redoubles his attention on her clit. Switching from just licking, he closed his lips around it and sucked gently. Mara moaned louder, the hands in his curls pulling his hair harder. Fuck! Since when did he enjoy hair pulling so much?

Lips wrapped around her clit, sucking gently, Battle returned his tongue to the task. Flicking it rapidly over the sensitive bud, and with every quick pass of his tongue, he sucked a little harder.

Mara's moans increased in volume again. Growing louder until she as almost screaming. Her wetness increasing. Battle kept at it. He was a relentless villain, and he was a relentless lover. He didn't stop even when he felt her body shudder over him, her juices flowing out of her so fast she was almost squirting. It dripped down Battle's face and chest.

"Did I make you cum?" He asked when she pulled away. Grinning up at her with a self-satisfied grin.

"Cheeky boy." Mara panted. She was flushed, her olive skin colored a delightful shade of pink by her orgasm. Her legs trembled, so she sank back down to straddling his body. Wet pussy smearing her juices all over the hollow of his stomach. "I suppose that deserves something in return."

He was expecting her to slide back down her legs, he was not expecting her to swing her body around so that her ass was just short of his face when she closed her mouth over his cock.

Battle threw his head back against the headboard when he felt her wet mouth finally slide down his needy erection. Soft lips, and slithering tongue. So wet, and so, so, so, warm! Fuck! It was like being kissed by fire! Slathered and sucked by pure wet heat! Battle gave another embarrassingly loud moan, gasping at the pleasure in his cock. Panting hard, gasping for breath, he lifted his head to look at her and saw only that pert round ass.

Hands jerked against the belt binding them again as he tried to reach out and pull that ass closer. He had been admiring her ass from the moment he first laid eyes on Mara Peace. Perky and round, creamy olive skin, tight little hole… he wanted to at least touch it, tease it! But he couldn't even get his hands close to it! Battle let out a keep on desperation.

Mara's head came up off his cock with a little wet pop.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "I think that's enough foreplay, don't you?"

"This was foreplay!?" He gaped at her.

She just smiled back at him. "Well, it's certainly not the main event."

Swinging her body around again, Mara reached one hand down between her legs to hold herself open as she slid down on his cock.

Battle couldn't help the gasp that cut from his throat when he felt her tiny body envelop him. She was so fucking tight! He stared at where they were joined. Thick cock disappearing between her thighs. How the hell did she manage to fit all of him inside her!? She was so small!

Mara let out a little gasp of her own. A soft intake of breath that was let out again almost immediately as a moan.

"Fuck, Sparky, you're so tight!" He groaned, feeling the walls of her insides press in on him. Tight, and wet, and hot. Fuck, it was hot! Leave it to a fire wielder to be hot literally as well as metaphorically.

She grinned. Grinned like he'd just made the best joke in the world. Moving her hips in a way that stirred him up inside her. His shaft sliding along her walls. Making it feel like she was sucking him in deeper. "Only because your dick is so big."

Another moan rumbled out of Battle's throat. "Mmm. I guy could get an ego hearing things like that."

Mara leaned forward, one hand grabbing at his hair again. "A guy might deserve the ego if he shared a little bit or the work. Move your hips!"

He was more than happy to oblige. Bucking his hips, thrusting himself up into her. So deep, he felt the head press against her cervix. All the way inside her. Fuck, he was all the way inside her! Every time Battle thrust up, it was as deep as he could go. He filled her completely. And she was so tight around him. Squeezing his dick. Like her body was sucking him in. Milking him.

Battle bit his lower lip. Fuck! He was gonna cum! He was gonna cum already and he only just started moving inside her!

He pinched his eyes shut, trying to hold back. Where had all his super stamina gone? He wasn't some young virgin. He could hold out longer than this!

But she kept moving her hips. Moving his cock around inside her deliciously. Sliding the shaft against her walls so that he hit every sensitive spot and nerve.

Fuck! She was so fucking wet! Battle could feel it dripping between his legs under her. Everything was so slippery. Sliding together with no resistance.

Mara was panting, mouth open. She was close to cumming too. If he could just hold back a bit longer. Just bring her to her orgasm before he let go.

Battle thrust deep again, making her moan, trying to push her to her peak. But every time he did, he dragged himself dangerously close to his own completion. So it was a jerky, halting rhythm he fell into. Thrust up deep. Pause to hold back own orgasm. Thrust deep again. Fuck! Stop and pause longer.

All the while, Mara kept up her own movements on a much steadier and more consistent rhythm.

Finally, he felt her body shudder, her walls close in around him. Fuck! He didn't think she could get any tighter.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Battle let go. His orgasm ripped through his body, right on the heels of hers. He let out a sound he didn't know he could make as his stiff cock rammed into her cervix one more time, spilling everything he had inside her.

Mara slumped over him, breathing hard.

Battle was likewise finding it difficult to fill his lungs.

Pushing herself back up, Mara reached over his to untie the belt from the headboard. Trusting Battle to untangle the rest of the leather from around his wrists himself. She rolled off him and cuddled up to his side, content and threatening to fall asleep.

Throwing the belt across the room, Battle looked at the woman laying with her head pillowed on his chest.

That was the best sex he'd ever had.

And he had it with a fucking hero!

Shit!

Battle worried he might be falling in love. …and she still had no idea he was a supervillain.

…