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Breathless	By : Artemis1088 Category: DC Verse Comics > Justice League Views: 7972 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Breathless
- 1
Breathless
by Artemis

Rated: NC-17

Summary: Wishful thinking of a "missing scene" (panels? ;) ) from JLA Secret Files #3-- the flashback sparring scene of the Tower of Babel arc between Batman and Wonder Woman.

A/N: Spoilers for that scene's dialogue, which doesn't really spoil any plot from Tower of Babel, because this is so grossly out of continuity. ;)

Thanks to UG for the beta!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. These characters belong to DC Comics and Warner Bros. No profit is being made from this story.

* * * * *

"Nice take-down." Wonder Woman tried not to wince after Batman slammed her back to the floor. "But what would you follow up with?"

Batman partly answered her question by flipping her onto her stomach and sitting on her back. They were in the midst of another of their sparring sessions. By mutual agreement, this one would emphasize techniques, so no powers--whether they be meta-strength or technologically advanced weaponry-- allowed. Only their combined decades of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat training were permitted.

Besides, as he watched her try not to squirm, the simplicity of this kind of practice always seemed more . . . satisfying.

"Choke hold until you pass out." His tone was matter-of-fact.

A small smirk danced upon her lips. "You'd be amazed how long I can hold my breath."

He regarded her a moment--the shine in her eyes from under hooded lids, the tension of her lean muscles under his grip, the way her hair spilled in thick waves onto her shoulders and the mat. He leaned forward and breathed into her ear. "Nothing amazes me anymore, Princess."

He caught the tell-tale tightening of her muscles, but all he could do in preparation was control his fall when she flipped him to the floor.

"Liar." She straddled his hips, smiling above him. Slowly, she stretched her upper body, both lowering herself to him and sliding his pinned wrists above his head.

He ignored the fragrance of her hair, which fell close around his face. "Are you about to amaze me?"

"Maybe you need to amaze me." Her mouth opened in a large intake of air, her breasts momentarily pressing to his chest in the exaggerated gasp. Her lips were pressed into a tight smile; her eyebrows raised in challenge.

He rolled their entwined bodies and smirked into her bemused features. In a low voice, he warned, "I am timing this alleged ability of yours."

Mutely staring up at him, she instead spoke volumes with the teasing mirth in her eyes, and the flicker of a grin that crossed her lips.

He shared his thought processes with her, musing aloud as his head ducked down, his breath hot against her skin. "So all I need to do to counteract this defense is make you--" he nipped her earlobe gently, then flicked the tip of his tongue over it.

Involuntarily, she drew in arp arp intake of air, just as he finished, "--gasp."

Smirking, he pulled his head back to meet the only slightly embarrassed look in her eyes.

"Cheater," she muttered, but hardly defensively.

He shook his head. "Only three seconds, Princess. I'm not impressed."

Sharing a grin, they each decided nearly simultaneously, "Practice run?"

Sealing her lips against another exhalation, she settled against the padded floor, her body wiggling teasingly against him as she did so. He stilled her by giving her ear another nip, and then began a languorous trek southbound with his tongue, interrupted only by teasing kisses with his lips.

She turned her head to expose more of her supple neck to his diligence, but otherwise gave no sign of giving in as quickly as she did a moment before.

He traced her the smooth line of her collarbone, then paused in the soft hollow between. No obvious reaction fror per perhaps, but as he resumed his journey, savoring her skin with kisses, he noted with satisfaction a slight increase in her heartbeat. Finding himself at the cleft barely concealed by her armor, he played with the surrounding curves of smooth flesh, before pulling himself up to a seated position.

He chewed his lip thoughtfully, before sharing his deductions.

"You're over twenty seconds now," he assessed evenly. "But that's hardly impressive or extraordinary."

In silent response, she folded her arms behind her head and shrugged. Her lips were still pressed into a tight line, her eyes smiling instead.

"Further study is needed," he decided and abruptly flipped her onto her stomach.

* * * * *

Stilling the pant that threatened her lips, she released her tension via a shiver that tingled through her body, sparked by the decidedly seductive way he toyed with her, leading up to the taunt of her aching body thrown to the mat.

She managed to relax somewhat, but then his familiar touch was upon her once more, the leather of his gloves moving her hair out of the way and exposing more bare skin.

His fingers were low on her back, at the small bit of material there. She bit her lip against the inevitable, and with a single discreet move, the fabric was undone and lay alongside her.

Her body was flipped again, the belt, red top and breastplate left behind, exposing her upper body to his scrutiny. She tucked her arms once more behind her head and assumed her best bored expression, but knew it was hardly believable, as well as difficult to maintain against the cool air puckering her nipples and the unintentional arch of her back.

From behind his mask, he could drink in the sight of her without revealing any change in his expression. She was never sure where his gaze lay, but that only heightened her anticipation for his touch.

After torturous seconds passed, where all he seemed to do was stare at her naked breasts, he finally curved a hand around her bare waist, and dipped his head down to continue his work.

His tongue circled the already puckering pink flesh, teasing the nipple into a peak, as the hand on her waist slid roughly upwards until her other breast was firmly in his grip.

As his teeth replaced his tongue, she bit her lip in response, refusing to yield a gasp so quickly. Her body betrayed her, however; her back arched even further, pressing more flesh to his mouth and kneading hand.

The deceptively simple foreplay was all the more intense under her refusal to indulge in a mere pant for air. Each time he sucked at her sensitive skin, or dug his fingers into her soft curves a little harder, a little rougher, it was a cruel tease that seemed to last forever. In all the times she had experienced this with him, it had never burned through her so fiercely, as each motion with his tongue and teeth did now.

So it wasn't long before more of her body grew greedy for such attention. A line of fire was lit inside her, forcing her hips into a familiar grind. She didn't even know what part of him her now eager sex was touching; contact was all that mattered.

He lifted his head to look at her face. She choked back the groan that threatened and stilled her hips, although leaving herself pressed to him.

That arrogant bastard was smirking. "Need something, Princess?"

She tried to glare and shake her head, her lips forced into a tight line.

Still looking amused, he untangled her legs from his firm thigh and she silenced a whimper.

He licked his lips and asked in false innocence, "Are you sure you don't need to take a breath? You are up to a minute forty-five."

A minute and forty-five seconds? Not even two minutes? If she could breathe, she would have told him to check again. That torture felt like ten minutes.

He was still talking though, rudely ignoring her real needs. Not for air, not for a breath, but his tongue, lips, fingers, his--something anything--guiltily she briefly wondered what was in his belt--filling her again and again.

"--not really impressive for a meta. I was expecting more, but then that is why this research is so valuable."

Her mind was screaming at him to just shut up. Hera, since when did this man speak so much?

"You've passed two minutes thirty-five seconds. Ready for more?"

She would not give him the pleasure of begging. Releasing her grip on the mat, she again assumed a bored expression. Her head was tilted slightly, and an eyebrow arched.

Two could pretend to be unimpressed.

Well, a little unimpressed, her mind betrayed. Because Hera help her if he did that move again with his teeth nipping and twisting the trapped nipple slightly as his tongue simultaneously--

She pressed her lips together again, fighting back a gasp for air at just the thoughts alone.

Definitely had to be at least ten minutes, she thought as he looked away from her, removing a batarang from his belt. She nearly broke her concentration by blurting out a question, but caught herself in time.

His gaze met hers and never left her face as he drew the blade slowly between her trembling breasts and down the smooth plane of her abdomen. It barely touched her, and yet left her a trail of tingling skin in its wake.

Although, she supposed a man who dressed as he did would have a "kinky" side. . . she just never expected to see it. Or feel it.

Again, she fought another gasp.

And then another nearly erupted from her lungs when she felt the fabric of her panties lifted away from her stomach and the tell-tale sound and feel of the material being cut away. After tossing the batarang aside, he spread her quivering legs and, settling himself in between, pulled the remainder of the fabric away. Only then she realized the extent of her arousal. The air was cold against her wet labia, and his soft breath against them only exaggerated her anticipation.

Her boots dug into the mat and she shut her eyes tightly as she felt his tongue lick her moist flesh. She heard a rustling, and nearly started when she felt his bare fingers in her slit, gently easing her nether lips apart. Now even more of her was left exposed to the chill room and his deft lips and tongue.

Her fingers dug into the mat in rough contrast to the gentle touch of his fingers and the languid motion of his tongue. He lavished her sex with his attentions everywhere it seemed, except for where her body screamed for it most.

She nearly succumbed to the whimper stuck in her throat, until finally, finally the tip of his tongue flicked over the nub, and his teeth grazing it right after.

Every instinct within begged her to scream, to cry out, call his name. But she fought and tamped it down well. Her nails now tore through the mat, and her lips were tightly pressed between her teeth.

Each time the coil of pleasure within her threatened to unwind, he backed off. What little lucidity that remained within her wondered how he knew. But that was soon forgotten as she fought against the urge to give in and open her lips in ragged pants expressing her pleasure.

If he noticed any of her struggles, and she knew he did--bastard, he made no outward sign of it. Instead, he continued toying with her sex, sliding two fingers into her hot core; his tongue and teeth still heightening her excitement.

A flurry of panting threatened to escape any moment now. She had no idea what time it was and how long this delicious torture had been going on. She only knew he couldn't dare stop.

But then he did--well only a little. He slid his lips to her inner thigh, and pressed his thumb where his tongue once was. The fingers buried inside her curled, locating and rubbing that sensitive stretch of her inner wall. He bit the skin of her trembling thigh gently, almost urging a groan from her. He then sucked the tender area a moment before lifting his head to look at her. She opened her eyes at the new movement and smiled weakly.

"Seven minutes." His voice was hoarse with his own need.

She almost managed a nod, until he added a third finger. Her head fell back hard against the mat and she sucked her bottom lip in a desperate counter to her desires.

His thumb rubbed her clitoris, the calloused roughness of the motion so purely masculine, so purely him. She ached for even more.

He didn't keep her waiting much longer. As he worked that bit of arousal more fiercely, some part of her still paying attention to the room heard a rustling and abruptly, his fingers and thumb left her bereft. Her head jerked up, eyes wide in need and surprise. He was now over her, his mask gone and his dark blue gaze locked with hers.

That was the only warning she received and she dutifully gripped the now shredded mat more fiercely as he thrust hard into her waiting core.

Her back arched, pressing her breasts to his firm chest. Her hips rocked to meet each of his thrusts, urging him deeper. He complied more forcefully, until their motions lost any semblance of a rhythm, recklessly slamming into each other.

She had no idea how long they had been at this; all she could concentrate on was his delicious hardness filling her over and over, the chaotic motions lending friction to the center of her pleasure.

Her hungry fingers left the floor for his cape, but that was soon torn off and she gripped his shoulders in a desperate attempt for leverage against the force of his thrusts.

He was grunting into her neck and ear, adding to the sensations sending her closer and more frantically to the edge. In her limbs and belly she felt a tell-tale tension and knew she was close. She could only bite her lip harder and toss her head towards his bulging biceps as he propped himself above her.

The building tension of this pleasure became too much. Her body trembled and she finally parted her lips in desperate, ragged gasps for air.

That was no reprieve from him however. His continued thrusts sent wave after wave of pleasure rolling through her, and in grateful response, her innermost muscles pulled and squeezed against his erection.

He finally slowed, his own body trembling, and his now weak limbs barely able to hold himself off her body. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and brought his chest to hers, as his sex throbbed and released hotly within her.

So entwined they laid a moment, neither able to catch their breath. He shifted above her, sliding his spent arousal from her warmth. She smiled at him, and he lowered a slow kiss on her lips. Her mouth welcomed the tender contact and moved gently in response.

Lips still pressed together, their bodies rolled until she lay on top. Needing another deep intake of air, she slowly pulled her lips away and dropped her head contentedly to his chest.

He stroked her hair gently, his fingers smoothing the strands from her forehead, damp with perspiration. Smiling, she sighed.

His arms wrapped around her as her fingers lazily traced the firm contours of his shoulder and chest. In this relaxed silence, he informed her, "Ten minutes, thirteen seconds. But Kent can last--"

To Bruce's credit, he suppressed a gasp when Diana's fingers closed into a fist and punched his arm.

*****************

the end.
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Breathless