Meaning: Desperation, reliability


It's incredible the hold she has over him. She summoned him in the middle of the night, and in less than 30 minutes he was at her door.

Maybe it was just that he could hear the trembling in her voice over the phone. He's a great guy - he'd probably have rushed for anyone if they sounded as scared and alone as she did. But she likes to think he wouldn't be as prompt about it if it were anyone else.

They talked for a while on her couch. She cried - she's not boastful enough to deny it - and he held her when she did. He whispered those things she loves to hear from him, and she swears it's a miracle he has any feeling in his chest after how tightly she hugged him.

But hugs have never been enough for her. Not when they were teens, and certainly not now. She's a tactile lover. She seeks comfort in contact, and she called him here seeking comfort.

She's made up her mind to get that from him before the night is over.

Before he can even think, she pushes herself upwards to kiss him on the lips. His eyes blow wide open in response, and he tries to push back. This isn't right. She's in pain, and he doesn't feel good getting love from her like this.

But she's more determined than he is, and she uses her body weight to push him down onto his back, crawling all over him like a kitten playing with a mouse. Her lips on his feels magical, and after a few seconds he hesitantly gives into it. This is just who she is, and if this is what it takes for her to feel comfortable, then this is what he'll do for her.

He picks her up by her rear, using his own strength to stand back up and carry her to the bedroom with him. She tears off his collar shirt, then the white tee underneath, and he softly lifts off her purple tank top, dropping her on the bed as her cat quickly gets up and leaps off. The feline skulks out of the room, not wanting to watch him undo the zipper of his jeans as her owner slides off her short shorts.

His skin on her skin feels so warm. The want he radiates through her whole body, the undeniable desire she feels as he finally begins their routine with her on her back. Nothing tops it for her, and she lets him know with a weak moan into his ear.

She craves his taste. The overwhelming sensation of ecstasy and pleasure she feels with every push he gives into her sends delicious shivers down her bare spine. She knows grief sex isn't healthy, and she knows they're both absolutely better than this, but right now he's exactly what she needs to remember she has someone to live for.

She doesn't know if he's seeing someone else, she doesn't know if them doing this makes him a cheat and her the accessory to his crime, but she doesn't care. She laid palm on him first, and as far as she's concerned, he belongs to her.

And the groans he mutters as he picks up speed assure her that he feels the same.

She screams in delight as he accelerates his thrusts, biting down on his neck while he kisses her collarbone. He's moving faster and faster with every passing second, just the way she loves it, and she calls his name as she's all his to take. She wants this all night long. She wants what is hers, and she'll gladly give him his.

But even his remarkable stamina has limits. She feels him start to slow, and it seems to be just in time because she doesn't know how much longer she can hold for. He whispers something into her ear before they both finally submit to one another, and she bites her quivering bottom lip, looking into his eyes and whispering it back.

And as they're lying together, exhausted and sweaty, he gets a call from Batman. She's worried he'll take off then and there, but he sends it straight to voicemail without even a second thought. She thanks him with a passionate kiss, moaning into it as he hugs her as tightly as he possibly can.

They fall asleep together, completely naked in each other's arms, and she clings to him for assurance all night long, thinking to herself that so long as he stays till morning comes, she'll have nothing to fear.