Chapter Text
Chapter One
I kick off my heels, my feet damp in my pantyhose from sweat. The concrete floor of the cave is freezing. At least my toes aren't being pinched anymore. That’s the only good thing I can think of about this night because it’s been bullshit. Bruce asked me to go undercover to this mob event as his distracting arm candy — fine, cool. I can be fairly hot when I can use all of Bruce’s money to get dolled up in a slinky, low-cut black dress and change up my appearance.
But what’s not cool? Bruce keeping me in the dark about half the fucking mission like I’m too inexperienced to get all of the information. If I had known the real reasons why we were there, I could have helped in a way that didn’t backfire. But no, we had to spend an hour doing clean up on a mess that could have been avoided if he'd just communicated.
“See, you can’t even explain why you didn’t give me all the info!” I shout at his retreating back.
“I don’t need to.”
“Yeah, you do. I’m twenty-five, for fuck’s sake. Not a stupid fifteen year old with a chip on her shoulder.” I start pulling pins from my hair, the waves falling to my shoulders. “We let a criminal go because you didn’t tell me he was our target before.”
“Regardless of your age,” Bruce says, turning to look down at me. “Some things about the mission are need-to-know.”
“I needed to know our fucking target, Bruce!” I barely stop myself from stamping my foot. God, he’s so infuriating. And it doesn’t help that he looks like he was born to wear his tux. He’s distracting me.
What is he now, like forty-five? For a guy who gets beat up regularly while wearing a bat suit, he’s aging like fine wine. Maybe it’s all the expensive creams that he keeps in the cave’s showers. Or maybe it’s just genetic luck. Fifteen year old me had been so consumed with proving herself that she hadn’t had time to low-key lust after him.
Emphasis on low-key. I mean, I have eyes. I can’t not notice how handsome he was back then and still. He isn’t just Gotham’s most eligible, long-term bachelor because he’s worth billions. Or maybe I’m just horny with no outlet besides my vibrator and imagination.
Or both.
He keeps his back to me, sliding his tux jacket off and tossing it on the back of his seat. Then, he takes his sweet time undoing some of the buttons of his shirt. I don’t have time to wait for him to acknowledge me again. I march around him until I’m inches away from his cold gaze.
“If you’re going to ask me to join you on missions, you have to treat me like a proper equal.” I swallow, trying to ignore how good he smells up close. “Or we’ll end up in a situation just like tonight.”
“Your defiance isn’t making me any more amenable to changing my stance,” he says.
“Is it really defiance if it’s a genuine concern?”
“When it’s you? Yes.” He brushes past me and pushes a hand through his hair, messing up the careful style. Some dark waves fall onto his forehead. “You have your strengths, yes, but I have yet to find a method to tame your impulses. I’m starting to believe I need to go with something harsher.”
Okay, fuck this.
“A ‘method to tame my impulses’? Something harsher than the years and years of hardcore training you’ve put me through?” I laugh, getting back up in Bruce’s face like I have a death wish. ”What are you going to do, Bruce? Spank me?”
I expect him to tell me to shut the fuck up (in Bruce-y terms), but instead, he stands his ground. His clear blue eyes are hard as steel, and focused right on me. I can practically hear the gears turning in his brain as he looks at me, and it’s making me sweat.
He turns and sits in his chair, rolling up the sleeves to his crisp white dress shirt to his elbows. The opening of his shirt reveals a tiny bit of dark chest hair. I don’t know what it is about him, but something as simple as sitting in a chair can make me feel a quake of something. I can’t tell if it’s nerves or something else, but it dances up and down my spine before settling between my thighs.
He’s ridiculously fast. Before I can even blink, he yanks me across his lap, face down, ass up. I squeal, catching myself with my fingertips so I don’t flip forward and crack my head open on the concrete floor. He adjusts me so my pelvis is right across his lap and smooths a hand up the back of my thigh, stopping just underneath the hem of my dress. The blood is rushing in my ears, drowning out the sound of my breathing. I squirm a little, but he throws a leg over the back of my knees and pins me in place.
“Do you know why I keep you in the dark on some aspects of missions?” Bruce asks, lazily pulling up my dress to my waist and revealing my thong to the cold air of the cave. Is this really happening? My curiosity is so intense that I let it happen. Where is he going with this?
“Because you’re a control freak?”
“No.” His hand comes down on my left asscheek, hard, making me gasp in surprise. “Because some things are a need-to-know basis only and for good reason. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this for you to understand.”
He spanks my other asscheek a little harder than before, making me scratch at the floor for something to squeeze and steady myself with. His hardening cock is gently prodding me below my bellybutton, instantly making me so wet that I’m afraid he’ll notice it. He’s big, for sure, and the fact that he’s getting off on this as much as I am is making me throb in anticipation.
“ You had a role…” he punctuates his sentence with more spanking, alternating between cheeks in a rhythm I can’t anticipate. “…and I had mine. If I told you everything, something could have been compromised. I can’t risk a slip, even from someone I’ve personally trained.”
I open my mouth to tell him that’s bullshit and that I’ve been undercover countless times, but his next series of smacks takes my breath away. I squirm in his lap, my ass hot and probably bright red, and he keeps me pinned down with ease. Every time he pauses, my arousal grows and grows right along the pain.
“I need you to listen to me,” he says, squeezing my sore flesh hard and making me gasp. “I need you to trust in the mission.”
I kick my legs around a little more, irritation making me antsy. I did trust ‘the mission’ — why else would I agree to it? I opened my mouth to tell him off, but he lands a few more ass slaps that make me realize that okay, maybe that’s not totally true. Not that I was going to admit it to him. I wanted to go on more missions. I just needed to sort out how to make our dynamic work.
And apparently, Bruce’s way of sorting it out means spanking me over his knee.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears coming to my eyes more from the embarrassment of still not being trusted enough, but this time I'm bare ass up and wet between my legs. “I will.”
“Good.” He smooths his hand over my ass, one cheek, then the other. His fingertips brush the string of my thong, which has to be damp.
My back arches involuntarily as he pulls my thong up into my crack, making the fabric pull against my wet, swollen flesh. His fingers skirt along my skin, down to the crease between my buttcheek and thigh, then inward.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words are stolen straight out of my mouth when he pulls my thong aside and plunges two fingers into my pussy. I’m so wet that his fingers meet no resistance. My toes curl as he finger-fucks me, almost lazily.
“B-Bruce…”
“Shh.” He curls his fingers just right and I moan, my face burning hot. “Is this what you need to obey me? For me to take you across my knee, spank your ass red, and finger your tight little cunt?”
I want to say something, but god, he’s good with his fingers. He strokes that spot that none of my past partners have managed to find consistently. My orgasm is already building, my pussy fluttering around him.
“How about this,” Bruce says, picking up speed. “Tomorrow. You’ll come here, we’ll renegotiate how we work together. Okay?”
“Okay.” I’m so damn close already. I never, ever get off just being fingered. My back arches and I try to press backward.
And then, he stops.
He just stops, pulling his fingers out of me.
“What the fuck?” I ask, squirming to look back at him.
But he rights my thong and pulls the bottom of my dress back down over my butt. He helps me to my feet, my legs wobbly.
“Tomorrow. Be here at six tomorrow evening. Casual dress, no panties. Clean shaven, though you can keep a little up top,” he says as he stands. “Understood?”
I nod, taking a wobbly step towards the door.
“And Stephanie?” he asks as I get closer to the door. I look back at him. “Don’t touch yourself.”
My mouth gapes open and my eyes narrow. “Why?”
“That’s exactly what we’ll figure out tomorrow.” He sucks his fingers clean in a very un-Bruce-like way that sends a rush down my spine. “Have a good night.”