Chapter Seventeen: For Me
Bane's breathing became ragged as Jane continued to press her line of questioning.
"Who was the woman I helped you burn?"
"She now exists as but a memory," Bane finally rasped before he turned back towards the fire, going to decidedly deflect by futzing with the fire that didn't need any attention.
"Answer me," Jane demanded, sitting upright as he turned away from her.
Bane ignored her entirely, poking at the perfectly formed pyre with a twisted stick.
"I asked you a question," Jane spit as she reached out and snatched the stick from his hands, throwing it to the side before she laid a hand on his massive forearm, her fingertips digging into his dense flesh.
"You feel I am required to answer?"
Jane narrowed her eyes, "yes I do, you keep taking from me, you can provide me an answer," she hissed.
"I could just keep taking from you," Bane growled as he manipulated his hold on her until he could push her to the ground, keeping her hands pinned to the dry earth as he hovered over her. "You have more to offer Jane," he added as his eyes burned with fire.
"Do your best," Jane spit, "just stop threatening me."
"Do you feel that I'm threatening you Jane?"
"No," she barked, adding on a chuckle, "you're just reminding me of your capacity, what's inevitable."
Bane felt her pulse begin to gallop from his grip around her wrists, racing so fast that her heart nearly skipped a beat.
"Talia was the one my heart beat for, I haven't been alive since she was violently ripped away from me," he admitted, his voice cracking, breaking.
Jane blinked slowly as Bane sagged against her, his broad body overwhelming, nearly robbing her of the ability to speak.
"You feel very much alive," she managed, her voice holding an appealing huskiness at the energy and heat she could feel exuding from him.
Bane returned her stare; a deep pain broke through his neutral expression for a moment as he allowed himself to bask in the sensation of their bodies so closely intertwined.
Jane didn't flinch or react as he shifted, raising a hand to lightly trail his fingertips along the line of her jaw.
She was certain he was doing that for someone else's benefit. Jane imagined that Bane had looked up and caught Deborah staring at them from beyond the blackberry bushes.
Jane frowned as Bane continued to dance the rough pads of his fingertips along her cheekbones.
"Who are you doing this for?" she snapped, unable to shift much from his sheer weight that threatened to push her into the earth.
"For me," Bane growled as he pinched her chin and lowered his face, brushing his lips against hers with the weight of a hummingbird's footfall.
He lifted his face just enough to find her eyes, their ragged exhales entangled, the oxygen molecules colliding into each other.
"Goddamn you," Jane managed before she lifted up just enough to bring their lips crashing back together.
A fire that Bane was certain had long been extinguished, lit up like a nuclear reactor at the press of Jane's lips, a veritable planetary alignment occurred as he slid his hand from where he cupped her jaw to smooth his fingers into her hair as he cradled the base of her skull.
He massaged his fingertips against her scalp as he deepened the kiss, prolonging the contact, forcing each other to share breath as touching her brought a memory of the darkness to wash over him.
He was back in The Pit, before he'd been nearly killed protecting Talia, licking porridge from a bowl in the darkness. He could remember clutching the vessel as he licked every bit of the pasty gruel, his tongue could still feel the cranial ridges on the inside of the bowl which he'd fashioned from a human skull.
The man hadn't been someone he'd known, the man had emerged from a shadow within the darkness, a sharpened shiv in hand with bad intentions.
Bane was abruptly brought back to the present as Jane shifted under him as much as his bulk would allow.
His fingertips running through her hair and drawing circular patterns against her scalp compelled a near breathless moan to escape from between Jane's lips.
Bane growled against her lips as he yanked Jane's hips upwards, pushing her thighs further apart as he dropped his weight. The fabric of their pants was dangerously thin from where their bodies pressed together, the heat radiating through the cotton fibers.
"Wait," Jane managed, her voice strong for but a moment when his hands scrabbled at the waistband of her sweatpants.
He didn't want to hear the fear and hesitation in her voice, didn't want to feel the tension coil inside her, rippling under the surface of her skin.
Bane paused as her small hands tightened at his wrists, he blinked a few times until his vision cleared and he could see her wide eyes, pale skin, and terrified expression.
"I told you I don't mind the blood," he murmured, his voice tight.
"It's not that, not only that," Jane corrected herself, adding as he kept his hands still, listening, waiting.
"What else is it?" Bane asked, forcing himself to keep his hands still, his fingertips remained hooked easily in the stretchy waistband.
Jane blinked at him, trying to put her thoughts and words together, deciding how much to tell him, to admit.
She didn't truly know much about him except for the news coverage and what had spilled from between his own lips.
Arlene rarely spoke about Jane's father except to say that he'd been sweet before they'd slipped under the covers.
He then proceeded to only take and left Arlene alone and pregnant with Jane.
Arlene had kissed just one man, the man who became Jane's father.
Jane had fallen into bed with just one man and was left alone but without a child due to latex precautions.
Bane's touch had turned sweet, and he said he wouldn't leave her with a child, but he could easily take her life.
Bane watched Jane struggle to find her words, couldn't track the 4.5 billion thoughts that passed across her beautiful face.
"Are you afraid?"
Jane nodded before Bane dropped his face, capturing her lips under his.
She couldn't stop herself from moaning into his mouth, each sigh and breathless gasp he coaxed from her was a goodbye to her previous life, to everything she knew.
She didn't know if she was ready to do that, to trust this man that had planned to level the city and poison the soil for thousands of years.
Jane didn't know if she was ready to say goodbye.
Jane's hair tumbled free of its haphazard bun, immediately drawing Bane's eyes to the shining, silken wave of her tangled hair.
She felt a lessening in the tension when she was distracted by trying to put her hair back into place when Bane stopped her progress with the dark blue elastic band.
He wordlessly pulled the hair tie from her hand and tossed it aside before running his fingers through her hair, the strands snagging on his ragged cuticles as he slid his fingers through the errant locks.
Jane closed her eyes and arched her back against Bane as he dropped his face to the warm curve of where her neck and shoulder met, his hot exhale caused goosebumps to sprout up on her skin before he pressed his lips over the pounding pulse in her slim throat.
Bane struggled to not assert the full range of his capacity, his sheer strength over her.
Some things were natural, obvious even in his diminished state.
Bane's musculature and formidable frame loomed over her, overwhelming her with the force of a tsunami wave generated by an earthquake that split the sea floor.
His touch turned urgent, distracting Jane was his thick rigidity pressing against her clothed center, hardening with each passing ragged breath.
Jane was torn between tension and wanting more.
Bane found himself considering the thought of taking without regard for consequence, but he knew that her retaliation would be surgically precise. That she might sever his carotid artery in his sleep, slip inside him and sew his heart valves shut, fill his lungs with blood, drown on dry land in his sleep.
"You're not going on a list," Bane growled, practically salivating as he anticipated the first moment of complete possession.
He caught up her small hands in his, weaving their fingers together as he squeezed. Jane was desperately torn between wanting to tug free of his grip which was in battling diametric opposition to wanting to tighten her thighs around his waist.
Bane knew he could only threaten without action for so long, his words would begin to hold no value, quickly take on water and sink to the bottom of the ocean.
He knew that following through would change her into a captive, he'd have to keep her under constant lock and key for threat of reprisal. Jane would never moan under him in any kind of pleasure again, any sound would be forced from blunt force trauma and assertive assault.
He felt the fight in her limbs, the struggle to not want to accept his touch, if he forced his wants, that burgeoning acceptance would be eradicated, eviscerated before it was filled with decaying earth and crudely stitched shut with hairs from a horse's mane.
Bane knew if he pushed her too far, that her thighs, which were trembling, would not continue to shake in ecstasy, it would only be fear.
Not having his mask had given birth to a host of sensory treats. He inhaled deeply, waterboarding his senses with the tantalizing taste of her lips and sweet scent of her skin.
He wanted to be afforded further opportunities to explore her body, to taste, explore, swirl his tongue down the front of her naked body and bury his face in her intimate femininity.
Bane knew that his dominance over her would be fleeting with its rewards, Jane would never allow him closer, never invite him to share in even a laugh.
Jane remained locked under Bane's gaze, she was mesmerized by the rapid dilation of his inky black corneas, the volcanic activity within the rods and cones.
Bane would never be able to tell her she could be solace until the end of his life, a place to find physical release, pleasure, and spiritual respite.
Someone was watching, not Deborah, she was back with Philip, combing his sparse, remaining hair.
Geo watched the two of them, illuminated by the flames that licked the oxygen molecules from the brisk air.
He didn't watch long.
Geo had the sense that Bane saw more than the others.
Bane did but knew that Geo would be an excellent vehicle to carry out his orders, disposable. He would enlist many in service to the left hand of the fallen goddess.
Geo walked away, whistling a tune popularized by a formerly crucified scarecrow that was brought back to life to begin walking down a brick road that was painted yellow. He clopped along with a girl that was on a steady diet of black coffee and methamphetamines, pushing herself to the limit when she was repeatedly told she was fat.
Bane had known the moment that Geo had neared, exactly how long he had watched and when he was out of earshot. He hadn't wanted to move away from Jane or break a centimeter of their physical contact, especially from where their skin seared from touching.
Bane was angry at the distraction and squeezed her hands too hard, the inflamed tissue screamed itself to life under his assertive grip.
Her skin was hot to the touch under his palm.
He made her cry out sharper than she might've intended, the piercing cry doused a lot of his surging lust.
"Forgive my carelessness," Bane stated in a hushed, ragged tone, lessening his hold but not completely.
He was furious with himself for dismissing her injuries, despite his words, actions and threats, Jane had treated his injuries with care and respect, never diminishing him as a person.
"Forgive me Jane?" Bane whispered.
Jane nodded; the small movement of her chin encouraged him to continue.
"You may take the time to heal without fear, I will not harm your body," he started, pausing to drop his face to the warm curve of where her neck and shoulder met before continuing. His words made her shiver, each syllable accompanied on a hot exhale.
"We'll return to my demands after we've renegotiated the terms of our cohabitation."
Jane's pain was pushed off the back burner and onto the floor at Bane's words.
"Your demands?" she scoffed, squirming underneath his bulk.
Bane lifted his head, meeting her angry eyes. "Yes, you must have demands of your own," he stated.