Bruce asked Selina to move in at the end of Book 2, and she’s been living in Wayne Manor since Highland Games at the top of Book 3. So there is no shortage of bedroom scenes in the course of the tales. This passage seemed like a nice companion for In Morning Light by Remidar.
“Good morning,” Selina purred, pulling the bedsheets over her legs as she rolled over onto Bruce and pressed her naked chest into his.
“It’s not,” he said in the same gravel he once used to dispute her claims about personal property, museum operating hours, and criminal trespass.
“It’s not a good morning? Damn, you’re a hard man to please.”
“It’s not morning.”
He seldom slept this late. They’d already sent Alfred away twice but…
“You’re so literal,” she said, nibbling.
…but he was a man. He had limits…
“That’s how this started,” he murmured.
…and after a morning of marathon lovemaking since the moment he got back from patrol…
“That’s not how it started; it’s how the third one started. The first one—oooh, I love this scar.”
…he was exhausted.
“Kitten you ask for, kitten you get… Mmmmmmeow.”
“How did it start, exactly?” Bruce asked, sitting up abruptly, Batman’s focus on the unanswered question finally asserting itself now that his body let him get a thought in. “All I know is you pounced on me in the cave before I could even get to the logs.”
“I’d waited long enough. It was almost dawn by the time you got home.”
“In the cave. We have rules about that.”
“Hard rules,” she grinned. “Firm, inflexible rule—”
As always, she’d pushed too far and found herself flipped over onto her back, arms hoisted into a borderline-painful danseuse pin.
“Non-negotiable rules,” came the menacing gravel. “So how about an answer, Catwoman?”
It was an anti-climactic story, considering.
-From Comedy of Errors
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Tags: bruce wayne, selina kyle