Jaina can't resist the temptation.

Jaina’s eyes twitched, expelling the conflict. Replacing them was sadness, one that he remembered infecting him as her finger peeled out of her lips and went back to her chin. “I’m sorry.”

His hopes ended in her apology.

White Rabbit somehow transmitted the image of herself smirking widely from behind him into his mind as she patted him on the back of his hip. She might have been hiding it from Jaina, or she might not have been. She had her hooks in, and it did not seem likely that the image of her sister smirking would be enough to change Jaina’s mind.

“Go ahead, Batman,” the wigged-woman whispered, gently nudging him forward. “Help her out.”

Batman used her slight impulse to walk up to Jaina. He remembered giving up any faith that Jaina was executing some ruse to get him away from her sister. Even in his post-present manner of thinking, he could acknowledge how sincere her apology was. Whereas White Rabbit’s intentions had been made clear when she danced around what she wanted to do and sticking to innuendo, Jaina made her intentions clear with how she looked at him. Sure, she might be ready to take advantage of him for her own ends, but at least she’d feel bad about it afterward.

For all that meant to him. He would have cursed at her as he came to a stop directly in front of her had he been capable of it.

No, that wasn’t right. He would have wanted to understand, and tried to talk her out of it.

No, that wasn’t right either.

Batman remembered the internal conflict, both his and hers, as Jaina once again looked down at his erection. It pointed almost directly at her face with his pants acting as a kind of chassis. Far more tentatively than her sister, she reached out to touch it, but hesitated midway, preparing to cross that final line from just thinking about it to actually doing it.

Finally, she crossed it, slipping her hand over the very head of his member. Her touch was not as practiced or controlling as White Rabbit’s, but it was still enough to elicit a soft groan from him. The last woman to touch him had worked him up to his fully hardened length with expert teasing, making even Jaina’s timid touch feel overwhelming.

He remembered being unable to discern whether her halt there conveyed second thoughts or not, though given the way she looked back up into his eyes for a moment, he would have leaned towards not. Jaina’s hand gently swiveled around to grab him from underneath, trying to get a sense of its weight. Perhaps she might have thought for a moment that this was a dream, wanting to use the feel of him to confirm that it was real.

Whether that was the case or not, Jaina soon decided to go further. She tightened her grip on it, hooking her thumb around the lower length. Batman grunted slightly as she tugged on it, using her grip to pull herself closer to him.

Jaina looked back up at his face, letting him see her mouth ajar as she began to pant. She blinked. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, sidling up to him. “I’m sorry.”

Leaning up on her toes, Jaina pulled down on his head with her other hand and caught his lips in a kiss. It started as a soft connection at first, just letting her get a taste of him.

Soon, however, she pressed against his lips a little more roughly. Jaina fully brought herself up against him with both hands around his head, replacing her grip on his cock with an overhanging cradle from under her right thigh. Her hands tightened around his cowl, clenching with a sense of desperation doubled by her full lips glued to his.

Batman did not reciprocate the kiss- there was not much he could have done anyway- making her efforts such that she could have been kissing a cardboard cutout of him. Whereas White Rabbit’s kisses had been playful and teasing to draw a reaction out of him, this woman’s kisses were attacks based on a fervor to do something . Her sister had accused her of wanting this for a while through her monotonous life. If her **** had given any doubts, this need comfortably removed them.

Jaima finally released his lips from her hold, tucking her forehead against his chin as she gasped for air. Neither of her hands moved from his head, keeping him locked in place even if he’d been able to act on his own. Her thigh curled around the edge of his rod, painfully tilting it upward so that its head poked up against her underwear.