Chapter Text
Overtime blows. It’s been three months since you started as a sales executive at Wayne Enterprises. The job is tough and your colleagues competitive, so staying late for a new employee isn’t uncommon.
But tonight, only your desk lamp and the dull glare of the executives’ suite LEDs light the office.
You gather your coat over your arm and turn off your desk lamp. You sigh, feeling accomplished yet bone-tired from the late hour. You’re looking forward to unzipping the form-fitting black corporate dress you had shimmied into that morning.
You wait for the elevator, stretching and rolling a stiff shoulder from the day's desk work. DING! You didn’t realize your eyes had shut for just a moment as the elevator door opens.
An unexpected sight greets you as the elevator pans open. A ruggedly handsome man stands inside with his hands in his pockets. He tips his chin up and cocks an eyebrow in acknowledgment as you step into the elevator. You smile politely and say a quiet hello.
The man has black curls tousled back, like he had been wearing a bike helmet. His jacket is well-worn leather in a dusty caramel color paired with blue jeans. Hardly office attire, you think. But the musky smell of leather fills the elevator—and something else, something smokey and sharp. It’s been a while since you had thought about a biker type—what with being around all the suits at work.
You peek at him through your lashes, an attempt at subtlety. You can picture it clear as day.
Suddenly, he’s reaching a calloused hand around your waist. You’re pulled in close, your hands on his leather-wrapped chest and his eyes gazing down at you. The smell of forest and leather clouds your senses. His hand traces down your hip to the top of your thigh, feather light. You feel wetness seep from your core from the attention.
You see his eyes dilate, his hand on the small of your back presses you even closer. You can’t help the sharp intake of breath as he tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. You look up to meet his gaze. His hand cups your neck as he leans in. Eyes closing, he grunts, clearing his throat.
Oh. The man grunts, clearing his throat and your fantasy away. You blink dumbly, flush rising in your cheeks from embarrassment. A damn shame.
Clearly, you’re in need of a date.
You step to the back corner of the elevator, looking at your feet. Had he noticed you staring? You risk another look at him.
Oh, he’d seen you staring, all right. He’s looking right back; his hand drumming impatiently on his thigh, a knee cocked and a contemplative expression. You self-consciously look back at your feet. So much for being subtle.
Luckily, the elevator’s inevitable DING sounds as you reach the lobby. You clutch your coat tighter, happy to avoid whatever confrontation he seems to want. You rush off the elevator, still feeling flushed and embarrassed.
“Do you want to grab a drink?” the man says.
You whip back around, already halfway across the lobby. “What?” you gape.
In two confident strides, he plants himself in front of you. He coaxes your hand into his with a handshake. “I’m Jason,” he shakes your hand. “Would you like to get a drink with me? Preferably at my place.”
“Well-I,” you stutter, surprised at his offer. “I think that would be pretty nice.”
---
His apartment is gorgeous.
After exchanging names and pleasantries on the walk to Jason’s place, you find yourself in a (very nice, expensive) uptown apartment. It’s a loft; wide open space with a full industrial-chic kitchen with blue slate countertops, red suede sectionals and low glass coffee table, and a towering bookshelf that seems overstuffed with classics and New York Times best sellers.
You can’t help but laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” he chuckles with you.
“I can’t believe this place!” you say, thumbing a book on the shelf. “I know we just met, but you’re rich, handsome, and you read Austen? You’re a triple threat!” you smile at him.
“And… are you feeling threatened?”
His tone is teasing, but he steps in closer. “I like Austen. A rich, handsome bachelor should know that the waiting game is the most rewarding.”
He’s standing close enough that you can smell the sharpness of his aftershave, and the broadness of his shoulders dwarfs yours. Your tongue wets your lips.
He steps back, after a moment. “Let me get you that drink. Whiskey okay?”
You nod, taking a moment to steel yourself with a shaky breath. It’s not often that you find yourself in an expensive, lavishly decorated loft. Not to mention the handsome cowboy making you an old fashioned in the kitchen.
You plop yourself down on the suede couch and look around. Are those antique pistols mounted on the wall? You peer toward the kitchen again to see Jason walking toward you, two glasses in hand.
“Here ya’ go, sweetheart,” he gently hands you a lowball glass and takes a seat next to you on the sectional.
You thank him, clinking your glass with his as you meet eyes. Crossing your legs, you feel acutely aware of the shortness of your dress. You set your glass down and smooth your hair back. “So… what’s a guy like you doing in Wayne towers after hours?” you ask.
“Hah!” he laughs. “The billion-dollar question. Well,” he says, leaning in. “I guess you could say it's family privilege.”
You almost drop your (very nice, expensive) glass. “You’re a Wayne?!”
“Guilty,” he shrugs. “Not by blood.”
“Now I understand the apartment” you joke.
“Well,” arms crossing, “Daddy’s money didn’t get me this,” he says with a note of bitterness.
Clearly, ‘Daddy’ is a sore subject. You think it best to steer clear.
“Managing people,” he continues, “pays well when you know what you’re doing is right.” His eyes gleam with some hidden emotion. Something like determination.
“But enough about me,” he throws back the last of his drink. Liquid courage, you think. You smartly take a gulp from your own glass.
He eases his shoulders down and relaxes on the couch, seeming to have recovered from the previous topic. He stretches an arm behind you.
“Y/N, what persuaded you to come home with me?” he inquires. “I can’t imagine an old fashioned made by lil ol’ me would be tempting enough,” he teases.
You pause, deliberating. Flirting a bit longer would be fun, but you have a feeling Jason could tease you all night if you let him. Honesty is the best policy. You set your glass on the coffee table and fold your hands in your lap.
“Frankly, I agreed because you seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t take no for an answer,” you say, scooting closer.
Jason cocks an eyebrow at you. “So… I’m a jerk,” he flatlines.
“You’re authoritative,” you say. “You know what you want.”
“You seem to have your own agenda, Y/N,” he notes. His voice is low. He’s not leaning relaxed with his arm around you anymore. He leans closer, a magnetic pull between you. His hand presses in the minimal space between his blue jeans and your dress. You can smell the whiskey and orange on his breath. “I think you know what I want,” he says.
Fuck. He is so attractive. You feel like a caged rabbit. You had fantasized about him dominating you earlier that evening, but now that it’s happening, you’re incredibly turned on.
Jason caresses the pads of his fingers on the side of your bare thigh, thumbing the hem of your dress. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
You inhale sharply as he slides his fingertips up, up, and under the hem of your dress.
He looks into your eyes, brow furrowed and pupils blown wide. “Tell me.” He continues to draw circles on the skin of your bare thigh as you lean into his touch.
“I-,” you wet your lips. “I want you.”
“Want, baby?” he questions, lightly scratching his nails against your inner thigh. Your legs slowly uncross as you unwind with his careful attention.
“Need!” you hiss, already feeling desperate. Your breath is coming faster now. The heat between you, his lips just brushing yours. Jason’s hand explores higher up your thigh as you open yourself to his touch.
He suddenly pulls you onto his lap, and you whine at the sudden change of position. Your back on his chest, your thighs between his. You arch your back to press flush against him, turning your head to look wantonly at him. Jason quickly spreads you open again with a rough hand caressing up your thigh. He rubs you through your panties.
“Fuck,” he breathes, smirking. “You already that wet for me?”
God, he’s hard against you. You press back into his hardness, and he sucks a breath through his teeth in response.
“So eager, baby,” Jason moans. “But, I wanna take my time with you.” He stands you both up, steading you with a hand on your hip. His other hand tenderly pulls the zipper of your dress down.
It’s a relief to have your dress fall to the floor. You feel unencumbered and confident standing in Jason’s living room in only your black panties and bra. Jason gives you a crooked smirk, eyes roving over your bare skin.
You turn to face him fully, smiling shyly despite yourself. You shake off the last of your hesitance.
“Your turn,” you place your hands on his firm chest.
Jason shrugs out of his jacket and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He quickly pulls you towards him with a hand on the small of your back. Finally, he kisses you. He presses his lips to yours, desperate and heady. You kiss him back, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip. There’s an urgency between you, like the other might disappear. But Jason is solid under your touch.
Your hands smooth over the broad expanse of his back as you kiss. He’s massive. The sinew of his muscles flex and contract as he explores your exposed skin.
“Good god,” you breathe against his mouth. You feel flush and eager. Panties soaked from how turned on you feel. You want to smooth your fingers over more of his taut body. Fingers dragging downwards, you brush the soft trail of hair under his belly button.
He grabs your hand. “Not yet, doll. There’s something I wanna do for you first.”
Instantly, your feet are swept out from under you as he carries you towards the bedroom. You gleefully wrap your arms around his neck, almost overwhelmed by how easily he holds you.
He places you on the bed and you lounge on your back, looking up at him.
“Thanks for the ride, cowboy,” you say with a smile, feeling confident from the whiskey and his attentions.
“Happy to provide, little lady” he says, tipping an imaginary hat. You laugh at his cowboy impression.
Jason’s hands move to unbuckle his belt, “I’ll give you a ride worth your while.”
His belt is off in one swift motion and is tossed behind him, forgotten. He makes quick work of his button and zipper. He seems to decide getting fully undressed is a later problem in favor of wrapping his hands under your thighs.
You yelp as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees.
Your thighs hastily fall open to accommodate him.
He pulls your panties to the side and licks a stripe up your wetness. He curses against your skin. “You’re gorgeous.” Jason draws his fingers through your juices and starts massaging your clit with practiced circles. “So wet for me, baby.”
Your hands run through his hair, your head lulling back. He starts pumping two fingers inside of you and latches his mouth on your clit. His tongue laves quickly over you and his fingers crook. You shout as that perfect spot inside you is stroked relentlessly by his motions.
Your legs start to twitch. “Oh fuck.” Clenching on his fingers, you’re quickly approaching orgasm.
Jason feels your desperation building. Positively writhing against him. “I want you to cum on my fingers, baby.”
Tongue flattening against you, a powerful arm presses down on your hips so you can’t squirm away. The edge of the cliff is right there. You moan high in your throat as he sucks at your clit. Jason adds a third finger and massages your g-spot diligently.
Over the cliff. “Oh god,” you shout as Jason works you through your orgasm.
Devoutly, Jason continues to worship your clit. Your hips twitch up against him, orgasm tapering off. You whine, feeling overly sensitive.
Jason slides his soaked fingers out of you, licks your juices off of them. He looks up at you darkly and presses his tongue in your abused opening. He sucks briefly then pulls away.
Smug pride radiates off him as he sits back on his knees. Your chest heaves and you let out a breathy laugh.
“Hmmm?” Jason inquires. He crawls on the bed and kisses you sweetly.
“Jason!” You swat him away, wiping your own wetness from your mouth. He chuckles, and wipes at his own mouth.
“Best meal I’ve had in years, doll,” he rubs a hand up your waist.
Smiling, you run your finger down his chest. His collarbone, the swell of his pec, over his nipple—he inhales keenly—and down to his unbuttoned jeans.
Like a beggar lost to the desert, you’re parched. You look up at him, biting your lip. Your fingers are still thumbing at the waist of his boxer-briefs just peeking through his unbuttoned blue jeans. “Can we go on?” you plead.
Instead of answering, Jason gently tilts your jaw up. His kiss floods you. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours.
Emboldened by the oasis of encouragement, you slide your hand under his waistband and over the ridges of his cock. Jason lets out a breathy moan.
Quickly, Jason lays back and strips off his jeans and boxers. The skin he reveals is marred with cuts and aged scars. Curiouser and curiouser, you think. The thick muscle of his thighs soon draws your attention.
But his cock is perfectly framed by his thighs, and boy does he have a gorgeous cock.
“You have a gorgeous cock,” you say. Thick, a very healthy seven inches, with a cute curve to the left. Yum.
“Thanks,” he glows. “I’m fond of Junior, too.” He leans in to kiss you and you meet him halfway, your hand resting on his chest.
You relax into the kiss, feeling excited about what’s to come. You reach one hand to undo the clasp of your bra, and your breasts fall free. Jason breaks your kiss, realizing the new development. He licks down the curve of your throat and kisses your collarbone. His hands cup the swell of your breasts. You lie back, enjoying the attention. His thumb gently circles one nipple as he sucks your other breast into the warmth of his mouth. He gazes up at you as his tongue flicks across your nipple. You breathe a soft moan.
He kisses back up your neck and presses a slow, sensual kiss to your lips. “Let me get a condom.”
He grabs a foil package from the nearby bedside table, tears it open and slides it down his cock. Kneeling, he grabs your hips and roughly pulls you down the bed. You shriek, arousal warming your stomach from his roughness. He grabs a pillow and lifts you by the back of the neck, hand tangling in your hair, and sets the pillow under you.
He slides his cockhead through your slick folds and against your clitoral hood. “Ready, baby?”
“Mmhmm” you hum, aroused. You look up at him through your eyelashes, excited by the stimulation.
Jason presses in slowly, moaning at the feeling of your tight heat. You’re so wet for him, and it turns him on beyond belief to see you laid out beneath him. Your perfect tits, the curve of your waist, and god your sexy ass. Jason feels fuckin’ special getting to spend the night with you.
You enjoy the slow drag of his cock inside you as you get used to his size. His hands grab your waist, and he bites his lip as he starts to fuck into you harder.
You moan in time with his thrusts. Your g-spot is already engorged after your foreplay, and Jason is nicely scraping that sweet spot as he pistons into you.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “You feel so good, baby. I love your pussy.”
Whimpering, you grasp at his forearm as he fucks you mercilessly.
Jason suddenly pulls out, and you whine at the emptiness. He stands, lifting you up. His hands supporting your back and cupping your ass. He lines himself up and thrusts up into you.
Oh, shit. This angle hits harder on every plunge. Jason slowly drags out, then slams his cock deep inside. He repeats the relentless cycle until you’re clenching around him. Your arms scratch his wide back, mouth falling open as you moan with his thrusts. You wrap your arms around his neck, hand tangling in his hair as you hold on for dear life.
“I’m gonna get you there, baby,” Jason looks you in the eyes. He drops you back on the bed and flips you over. Trapped under his thumb, Jason runs a hand up your spine. He presses your front to the bed with his rough, splayed hand.
Your cheek is flat against the bed, chest down, ass up. Jason can’t believe his luck to be treated to this view tonight. You keen as he fucks into you–his hand on your neck. Jason licks his other palm and reaches around to rub your clit.
“Oh my god…. Jason!” you shout. “Feels so good! I want it bad, baby.”
“You wanna cum, baby?” he grins. “I want you to cum hard on my cock. You’re fucking back on my dick so good, love.”
You moan in response, arching your back as Jason wraps his hand around your throat and lifts you back towards him. His hips still piston into your pussy and his hand massages your clit.
He moans in your ear. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he rasps. “You know what good girls get?”
His words are like lighter fluid. You're burning, so close to igniting that bonfire.
“Good girls get to cum on my cock, doll.”
You feel your orgasm build as your pussy is positively pounded. His dirty talk, the pressure on your clit and the heat in your belly start to push you over the edge.
“Jason!” you shout. Bonfire, lit.
He fucks you through your orgasm. His arms must be cramping from rubbing you off and holding your arched figure up, but he is single-minded in riding out your orgasm.
You moan his name with abandon. After forever, your high begins to taper out. You start to relax in Jason’s grip as your pussy stops seizing around him.
Jason’s rhythm stutters and his arms wrap around you. He holds you to his chest as he thrusts up into you through his orgasm. “Oh, fuck, Y/N,” he groans.
You’re panting. He releases you from his hold and you flop on the bed, thoroughly fucked. Jason stumbles to his feet, tying off the condom and tossing it into the bin before collapsing on the bed next to you. He slings a sweaty arm over your back and pulls you close to his heaving chest.
The two of you rest there, for a minute. Just the sound of your breathing, heavy from exertion, calming as you recover.
After an age, your eyes flutter open. Jason is staring at you. His big, green eyes and a smile widening on his face. His hair is matted to his forehead with sweat. He seems really very happy, like a dog who's just gnawed on a tasty bone.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi, he replies, content.
“You did really good.”
He laughs. “Oh, yeah? What would you rate it?” he teases.
“Rate it!” you giggle. “Hmm, definitely a solid nine outta ten.”
“A nine!?” he feigns offense. “I fucked you within an inch of my life! My hand almost fell off at the end there.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice,” you reply. “I was too busy happily cumming.” You lean in for a sweet, chaste kiss.
“Well,” Jason says. “I actually had a great time. Ten outta ten. Would make you cum again.” His thumb rubs circles on your bare back.
You nod, shyly. “I think I would like that.”
Jason pulls you in impossibly closer. His breath fans over your back in your embrace, his hand scratching lightly at the nape of your neck.
You sigh, gratified.
You might have to hold on to this one, you think.
Yeehaw.