White Rabbit sends them to bed.

“That’s it,” White Rabbit’s voice encouraged from behind him. Self-satisfaction lined her voice, even though it was ostensibly meant to be soothing for her sister. “Come on, Batman. Take her to bed.”

Batman remembered beginning to pant as well, oppressed by the weight of the lust in the room. As he moved his own arms down around her back, Jaina obligingly scooted up against him. His hands locked just under her hips, but Jaina swiveled her legs up and affixed her knees against his sides.

His hands automatically moved to support her under her bottom, allowing her to sit in his hands without much need to do anything to hold herself up. The erection poking the back of her right thigh essentially served as the middle of her informal seat. Uncovered skin gently ceded before its head, a flesh crater tingling him enough that he flinched forward.

“I’m sorry,” Jaina panted yet again, her hot breath washing over his mouth. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and shoulders, pressing her forehead against his cowl. “I’m sorry.”

Batman remembered wanting to curse at her latest apology as he carried her off to his left. His body moved at a steady, undisturbed pace that he remembered thinking he might not entirely have been able to pull off had he been fully present in the moment. The path to Jaina’s bedroom was not the issue; he’d been in the apartment earlier in the night and knew where to find it.

Instead, it was that Jaina kept kissing and gnawing around his lips as he carried her, constantly adjusting her hold on his head to allow her to taste different parts of him. She was as much as a **** to her lust as he was to White Rabbit’s tail, but she got the choice to actively enjoy every second she had with him whereas he could only remember trying not to enjoy it his shameful hindsight.

Each step made his cock rattle against her bare hamstring. It pushed back in equal measure every time one foot came off the ground, slowly inching his head along her leg until it centered out- or at least came close to doing so- along the inside of her thigh. A slim trail of pre-ejaculate formed where it scraped her, dribbling back toward where his cockhead was now with the way she was “sitting” on him.

Her ****, frenzied moans in between kisses and whispered apologies serenaded his quick march to Jaina’s bedroom. Batman recalled sensing White Rabbit stalking after them, but stopping at the doorway as he went inside. He never would have needed to look at her to know how wide of a smirk she bore watching the two of them.

The bed itself was of smaller size than one would have expected for such a luxury apartment. Jutting out from the middle of the far wall, the queen-sized mattress messily awaited their arrival, blankets tossed around from when Jaina had scrambled out of bed to find them in her domicile.

Jaina- recognizing where she was as he stopped at the foot of the bed- shifted her legs. Her left knee hooked behind his waist as her right foot dropped down to brace herself against the corner of the mattress. Pulling him in, she let herself drop backwards. He wound up pressed up against her body as she lay back on the bed, bare limbs coiled around him while her most intimate parts were covered.

It was just the opposite for him, his pants lowered just under his scrotum to permit his rod to stab into the mattress just under her bottom. The compression around it was minimal- the mattress was firm and her thinly-covered buttocks only grazed against his cock- but he remained on edge with the light stimulation.

Not that he would have been able to hide it anyway, but he remembered letting out a low wheeze as Jaina’s left hand wormed around their crotches. After a moment of fumbling with her own waistband, she drove her own hand down her own thigh and wedged her own underwear downwards.

Even though it would have been easier for her to unclothe herself if she just let him go for a moment, she clung to him. Jaina didn’t act with the poise of White Rabbit. Batman remembered realizing that Jaina had no intention of savoring the moment she had fantasized about for years. For her, this was not an opportunity; it was akin to a basic need like food or water.

It went beyond her desire for him in general. It was as if Jaina had never indulged in anything and- lucky him- this was the first time she could not resist. As opposed to her sister who lived the life of seeming nonstop indulgence, Jaina must have been the reserved, tireless worker she’d presented as earlier in the night. Sure, she got to travel all over the world for work, and she lived the life of a socialite, but for one reason or another, it did not come with true fulfillment. The life she’d chosen was not the one of the White Rabbit, but of the pursuit of purpose.

He knew that feeling himself, that drive to do what he did that had led to him becoming the Batman. Fulfillment had never been his goal either. Why would it have been? He and Jaina lived with the knowledge that they could decide to chase it, but what if that left you feeling just as empty? They both had the resources to try well beyond what most other Gothamites could. It wasn’t exactly a fear that held them back, though it could have been called that by those who didn’t understand it.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped once again, her hand still sifting around his crotch, searching for a suitable grip. Her thumb pressed into his groin a few times as she kept trying to squeeze her hand between their bodies.

He’d chosen to become Batman as a way to work toward his duties. Jaina’s sister had done the opposite, birthing the White Rabbit as a way to orchestrate her own indulgence. In that way, she was a reflection of the lives he and Jaina could have taken for themselves, if they hadn’t been held back by that kind of “fear” that made them who they were.

That came with a price, though. It made it easier for others to exploit that fear. White Rabbit had shown him enough indulgence to defeat him. She’d then done the same to Jaina, using him as a weapon instead of a hypno-wheel. For Jaina, her problem wasn’t focus, but the truth. The truth was neither kind nor convenient. She needed this now more than White Rabbit ever had; while her sister had indulged, she had starved.

And the truth was that- in the end- a person could only starve for so long before hunger took over.

“I’m sorry.” Her hand finally found its grip around the base of his rod. Ignoring his uncontrolled groans of distress, Jaina contorted his cock along her own thigh, hoisting her hand along its length until she reached its head. It took her another few seconds to adjust her grip on it, rattling the rod with each unpracticed clash of fingertips.

Batman remembered grunting at the treatment, wishing that she would stop apologizing while still abusing him in this state. She might have felt like she was being honest in her apologies, but all he remembered thinking was that they were hollow, meant more for herself than him.

Pressing down on the top of its head with her thumb, Jaina turned his cock down to push against the lower lip of her entrance. She hitched with a soft gasp at the first contact, tightening her legs’ lock around his body. Recovering, she retracted her hips, allowing her hand to heedlessly guide more of his cock into her. She directed it with little regard for how she was forcing the base of it back into his own crotch, only concerned with the angle of his entry rather than the angle of his normally-straight cock.

He moaned at roughly the same time as she did, though his was twice as long. Her hand had drawn three inches of him into herself. She removed her hand now that it had done its job, though she quickly found a new use for it along his left shoulder. Finding a steady grip, Jaina swung her hips down below, slowly tugging him down deeper inside her using her legs.

Batman moaned again as his next three inches were pulled deeper inside. He remembered appreciating her warmth- if nothing else about the situation- as he involuntarily shivered. When her hand left his shoulder, he then felt a lesser warmth upon his cheek.

Jaina lifted up on his cheek, directing his slack-jawed, cowl-covered face to look directly into hers. Breathing heavily through her mouth, she stared into his blank eyes with a sunken, half-open gaze. Her heels each tapped against his bottom as she halted there, trying to convey what was likely yet another apology through a look.

“Go on,” an identical voice emboldened. White Rabbit- unseen by either of them- was likely standing just outside the reach of the bed, possibly leaning on the doorway to the bedroom. “Tell him what you want him to do.”

Jaina didn’t try to respond and he couldn’t have tried in the first place. For all intents and purposes, her sister was just an audible representation of her own lust. It was up to Jaina whether she wanted to listen.

She did. “Fuck me,” Jaina whispered.

He did. “Fuck you,” Batman returned.

Batman remembered immediately thrusting into her, shoving the final third of his cock up along her upper fold. Jaina’s hand flopped back against the mattress in her moan, back arching in a way that formed a destructive interference with his back bending. Both of them gasped, sensations so loud and overpowering that he could not recall whether or not their spectators in the Batcave had repeated what he’d said.

Jaina’s legs temporarily loosened around his body as she adjusted from the shockwave, but she quickly reattached. His hips slowly pulled back, resisting her legs’ efforts to keep him buried within her. Retreating halfway out of her, his body threw itself back in with another thrust. Now that it knew the way into her, his cock more gracefully found its way through the center of her pussy.

She moaned louder this time, a heavier gasp coming at the end of it. Batman recalled thinking that she was struggling to keep herself from saying something else, though whether it was another empty apology or a follow-up order was a mystery. Perhaps she thought that silence now was her most honest option.

Batman withdrew again, a little quicker this time. Both of Jaina’s hands gripped the mattress beneath herself. A slight nod of her head indicated that she was ready for the next one, though he remembered thinking that his body was just moving on its own now that she had given the original command.

He stabbed his way back down, crunching against her walls with almost all of his ****. He grunted, finding his breath coming in gasps now like her. Her gasp came with a soft click of her tongue at the end, once again fighting down the urge to say something. Jaina’s hips stuck slightly to his as he pulled back again, a mixture of sweat and their fluids lining her thighs.

Thrusting again, Batman panted. He remembered his head drooping forward in exertion rather than exhaustion, the only non-essential motion his body performed amid his heavy onslaught on her pussy. She periodically ran her right hand up and down his shoulder and chest, continuing to grip the mattress beneath her with her opposite hand.

“Keep going,” Jaina finally **** out after many minutes- how many minutes? He remembered wondering- of clamping down on herself. “Keep going.”

Batman remembered black spots entering his vision. His breathing was ragged, uneven. His thrusts were heavier than he’d ever done before this night.

He drove deep inside her. Again. Again.

“Keep going!” Jaina’s head rebounded into her pillow in tune with his thrusts.

Her legs loosened their hold around his body, her hips twitching upward against his thrusts. The right knee trembling against his rear confirmed it; she was about to burst. Batman recalled wanting to- at the very least- avert his gaze so that he didn’t have to look at her when it happened, not wanting to see whatever amount of guilt infected her moment of rapture.

Of course, that was not an option for him as he drove into her, harder and harder. He got to watch as she gasped her way to the brink, mouth parting wider with every gasp. Her chin tilted up as Jaina’s head dipped back into the pillow.

“I’m sorry!” Jaina cried out, fists clenched around her bedsheet. Her eyes locked onto his, lighting up in bliss before rolling back into her head.

Finally, she came, face tightening in a pained expression as her guilty pleasure took hold. A choked moan escaped her lips. Jaina’s hands released their hold on the mattress beneath her, instead going to grab around his shoulders and back. She held him in place, not allowing him to effectively thrust into her in favor of using her convulsions to push back up into him.

Batman remembered her straining against him, wringing out what she needed from him. Her fluids roiled about his cock, some of it sprinkling onto his crotch and rolling down his pants. She choked off another moan, but her next gasp for air let it out, a whine that came from deep in her throat. Batman groaned as her hands gripped tighter around his body, claw-like fingers digging into the back of his cowl.

He remembered understanding her attempts- late though they were- at self-control. Even as she took in the pleasure she’d spent years pining over, she still tried to prevent herself from admitting how much power it held over her. It had been her way for so long that it was instinct.

He also remembered hating his own denial about it, especially as her orgasm had not brought on his. His cock still throbbed inside of her, swimming in her crevice, irritated that its efforts had been stopped so suddenly. Yes, it was that denial that he hated, because he recalled wishing he had been in control enough to pretend he hadn’t been the same way. Instead, his captive body released another pitiful groan.

Jaina’s orgasm came to an end, her limbs slowly dislodging from their places around his body. She didn’t open her eyes to look back at him. Her expression still tinged with some pain and regret, she turned her head to the side. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, he remembered assessing. She’d crossed the line to take what she’d wanted, and now she didn’t want to see his blank stares as a reminder.

Breathing out a shaky sigh, Jaina brought her hands into her face, shielding herself and rubbing out her own tightened muscles with her palms. She might have whispered another apology to him, or it might have been a curse under her own breath. Disbelief at her own actions and disgust for how good it had felt… Batman might have wanted to look away from her shame as well.