I Bet On Losing Dogs

Is It a Crime? (NSFW)

He gives you a choice. Go to Wayne Manor, where you no doubt will have the night of your dreams, or go home and regret not sleeping with Bruce. As you get back into his car, you've sobered up a bit. You already are mixing business and pleasure, but you can only play with fire so long before you get burned.

Though the drive to your place is quiet, Bruce doesn't question your choice. Instead, he rubs his chin, staring at the road ahead. You can barely hear if Bruce did speak; however, your heart never relaxed. He parks once he gets to your apartment. "Can I come up?" You laugh, surprised, staring at the billionaire's face to see if he's serious. He is. You should have expected this curveball, but your mind is still in scrambles. "Um. Sure." You're not sure if it's the buzz from the cosmos, the kiss, and the horniness you feel that makes you say yes.

He keeps his hands to himself as you ride up the elevator, only touching your waist as you step out. The flutters in your stomach make you fumble with your keys, but you play it cool, walking with your head high. Finally, you unlock your door and laugh to yourself. "Welcome to my crib..."

Surprisingly he doesn't stick out like a sore thumb as you turn on your living room lights, but he is still tense. "Can I check your rooms?"

"What?"

"To make sure you're safe." You laugh but agree. "Whatever you like, Bruce. But take your shoes off." You kick off your heels, and he slides his leather boots off with ease. You're a little relieved that he obliges.

He follows you to your bedroom. He flips the lights on, dropping low to check under your bed with his flashlight app. Satisfied, he heads to your closet and then your bathroom. You hear him flip on the lights and move your shower curtains. You distract yourself by staring at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup is smudged, your hair a little all over the place, but you're happy your girls have stayed in place. You wonder what he would do if someone were in here with you both. Of course, he would have to put those martial arts skills to use. Bruce goes to the kitchen, flipping on lights and checking in cabinets and such. "Okay. You're safe." He says, resting against your door frame. "I'm pretty high up. I keep my doors locked and never linger for long. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I know how to take care of myself."

His look of concern returns, blinking slowly. "I know that, but I want to be able to take care of you too. Is that okay?"

Take care of you...

Your eyes flick up to his, and you slowly turn. "Can you help me out my dress?"

Your eyes glue to your bed, feeling his fingers at your back. They're cold as he brushes your hair up, revealing the zipper. You close your eyes, trying to keep your mind from slipping into erotic fantasies. You'd tell him to go once you're in your pajamas. He slowly pulls the zipper down, the cool breeze dancing on your back. You imagine him turning you around, repeating the kiss under the bridge, except he guides you to your bed, peppering kisses down your chest before his lips catch your nipple. Your ache begins to seep into your panties. You're embarrassed as he hasn't even done anything since the kiss. You're already weak in the knees by just his graze. His lips find your spine, pressing careful light kisses following the zipper until he reaches the end, the nape of your back. You still, blinking quickly to realize what he did, what he's doing. You exhale a shuddered breath as he lingers there. You're doing this. You let the dress fall from her shoulders and down to the floor.

Bruce drops to his knees before turning you around and helping you step out of the fabrics. "I won't do anything you don't want me to." He says, eyes meeting yours. If you had told yourself two weeks ago that your boss would be between your legs, staring at you like a starving animal, and you relished it, you would think you were crazy. You have weird sex dreams, of course. But he's honest, kissing your inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin.