Chapter 17: The Private Jet
The jet’s engine was a subsonic purr, a vibration felt in the bones rather than heard. Outside the window, an endless black sheet of Atlantic was stitched with silver thread where moonlight caught the crests of waves miles below. Inside, the cabin was a capsule of amber light and shadow, the air still and close, saturated with the peaty tang of Kate’s unfinished whiskey and the persistent jasmine of Selina’s skin.
Selina lounged in a deep leather chair, one leg hooked over the arm, her black catsuit unzipped to the sternum. The pale, vulnerable line of her chest rose and fell with a deceptive calm. Her eyes, reflecting the low chandelier glow, tracked Kate, who stood rigid by the wet bar, staring at nothing.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Selina murmured, swirling the ice in her glass. “It’s drowning out the engines.”
Kate didn’t turn. “Protocol. Routes. Safe houses aren’t safe if you don’t run the permutations.”
“Permutations.” Selina let the word hang, a dead thing in the luxurious air. She uncoiled herself, placing her feet soundlessly on the plush carpet. She crossed the space between them, a slow, deliberate stalk. “Your mind is back in Gotham. On him.”
Finally, Kate looked at her. The blue of her eyes was almost severe in the dim light. “It has to be.”
“It doesn’t.” Selina stopped inches away, her scent enveloping Kate. She placed a single finger on the center of Kate’s chest, over the simple grey cotton of her t-shirt, right above her sternum. She could feel the solid, rapid beat beneath. “Not right now.”
She pressed, a gentle, insistent pressure. Kate resisted for a fraction of a second, a lifetime of discipline holding her upright. Then she yielded, letting Selina guide her backwards until her calves hit the edge of the opposite leather chair. She sat, pulled down by that one finger and the gravity in Selina’s gaze.
Selina didn’t give her time to think. She climbed onto her, knees bracketing Kate’s hips on the wide seat, and settled her weight. The leather sighed beneath them. She captured Kate’s mouth, not with the fiery hunger of the penthouse, but with a deep, consuming possession. Her tongue swept in, tasting whiskey and worry. One hand fisted in Kate’s red hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss; the other slid down, palming Kate’s breast through the shirt, thumb finding the stiff peak of her nipple and rubbing slow, hard circles.
Kate’s hands came up, gripping Selina’s hips, fingers digging into the tough material of the catsuit. A groan vibrated from her chest into Selina’s mouth. Selina broke the kiss, trailing her lips along Kate’s jaw to her ear. “Where are you now, soldier?”
“Here,” Kate breathed, her voice already frayed.
“Prove it.”
Selina’s hands went to the hem of Kate’s shirt. She pulled it up and over her head in one swift motion, tossing it aside. The cool cabin air hit Kate’s skin, raising goosebumps on her arms, tightening her nipples into hard, pink points. Selina admired the view: the powerful shoulders, the defined muscles of her abdomen, the pale freckles scattered like fine dust across her chest. She leaned down and took one nipple into her mouth without preamble.
She sucked, hard, her tongue lashing the tight bud. Kate cried out, her back arching off the chair, pushing her breast deeper into Selina’s mouth. Selina bit down, just on the edge of pain, then soothed it with a slow, wet lick. Her hips began a rhythmic grind against Kate’s, the slick material of her suit creating a maddening friction against the rough denim of Kate’s jeans.
“Fuck, Selina…”
“That’s the idea,” Selina muttered against her skin, switching to the other breast, giving it the same relentless attention. Her hand slid from Kate’s ribcage down the flat plane of her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans. She found the buckle, the button, the zipper, working them open with efficient tugs. She didn’t bother pushing the denim down far, just enough.
Her fingers slid through coarse curls, into molten heat. Kate was soaking wet, her cunt clenching around nothing. Selina groaned at the feel of it. “Always so ready for me.”
She pushed two fingers inside, deep, to the knuckles. Kate’s hips jerked, a sharp, involuntary snap. Selina curled her fingers, finding that spot, and began to pump, a steady, driving rhythm. Her palm rubbed against Kate’s clit with each thrust. Her mouth returned to Kate’s, swallowing her ragged moans.
“Look at me,” Selina growled, her own breath coming in short bursts.
Kate’s eyes fluttered open, blue and clouded with lust, locked on Selina’s fierce green gaze.
“Who do you belong to right now?” Selina’s fingers sped up, the wet, filthy sound of them filling the cabin.
“You,” Kate gasped. “Jesus, you.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours. God, I’m yours, Selina, please…”
Selina kissed her, hard, as she felt the telltale tension coiling in Kate’s belly, the inner muscles beginning to spasm around her fingers. She shifted her thumb, pressing down directly on Kate’s clit, and fucked her through the climax with brutal, perfect strokes.
Kate’s cry was shattered, raw. Her body bowed, every muscle taut as a wire, before collapsing back into the leather, trembling through the aftershocks. Selina slowly withdrew her fingers, bringing them to her own mouth and sucking them clean, her eyes never leaving Kate’s. The taste was dark, musky, entirely Kate.
“Good,” Selina whispered.
But she wasn’t finished. With a strength that belied her slender frame, she pushed herself off Kate and then pulled her from the chair, down onto the deep, midnight-blue carpet. Kate went, pliant and boneless for a moment. Selina pushed her onto her back, yanked her jeans and underwear down to her thighs, and spread her legs wide.
She knelt between them, her gaze raking over Kate’s exposed, glistening sex. She leaned down, her breath ghosting over slick flesh, and didn’t hesitate.
Her tongue was a broad, flat stroke from Kate’s entrance all the way up to her clit. Kate shuddered, a broken sound escaping her lips. Selina dove in, feasting. She fucked Kate with her tongue, deep and slow, then circled her clit with relentless, tight pressure. She used her lips, her teeth, nipping gently at the inner thighs, sucking the swollen nub into her mouth until Kate was sobbing, her hands fisting in Selina’s short hair.
“Again,” Selina ordered, her voice muffled against Kate’s skin. “Come for me again. Now.”
She sealed her mouth over Kate’s clit and sucked, hard, while two fingers plunged back inside, curling up. It was too much, too sensitive, an overwhelming cascade. Kate’s scream was choked, ragged, her hips lifting off the carpet as a second, violent orgasm ripped through her. Selina rode it out, drinking every pulse, until Kate’s body finally went limp, spent.
Selina crawled up her body, collapsing beside her on the carpet. They lay there in the hum of the jet, lungs heaving, skin cooling. The only light was the moon through the window, painting silver stripes across their tangled limbs.
After a long while, Kate turned her head. Her voice was sandpaper rough. “That was a hell of a distraction.”
Selina stared at the ceiling, at the subtle vibration of the chandelier crystals. “It wasn’t a distraction.” She reached over, her fingers finding the fresh bite mark on Kate’s breast, tracing its outline. A possessive claim in the dark. “It was a reminder. For both of us.”
Kate’s hand found hers, lacing their fingers together. The grip was firm, an anchor. Outside, the vast, indifferent ocean slid beneath them, carrying them toward an unknown shore. For now, the only permutation that mattered was the space where their bodies met. The rest—Gotham, him, the coming storm—could wait a few more hours.
The rest—Gotham, him, the coming storm—could wait a few more hours.
Silence settled, thick and liquid, broken only by the jet’s perpetual hum and the slowing cadence of their breathing. Kate’s fingers were still laced with Selina’s, a point of contact anchoring them to the carpeted deck. The moon’s path had shifted, the silver stripe now cutting across Selina’s bare stomach where her suit gaped open. Kate turned her head, studying the profile beside her: the sharp cheekbone, the relaxed mouth, the faint sheen of sweat on her throat.
“A reminder,” Kate echoed, her voice scraping low. She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. The movement was deliberate, her spent muscles protesting. Her shadow fell over Selina.
“Mmm.” Selina’s eyes were closed, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’re a quick study.”
“Thorough, though.” Kate’s free hand came up, not with passion’s haste, but with a slow, forensic curiosity. Her knuckles brushed the jut of Selina’s hipbone above the leather. She traced the zipper’s teeth where they parted, following the line up Selina’s torso. “You’re still dressed.”
“An oversight.” Selina’s eyes opened, green and watchful in the half-light. “Easily remedied.”
“My turn.” Kate said it not as a question, but as a statement of intent. The words hung, simple and heavy. The dynamic shifted, a palpable transfer of control in the cabin’s close air. Selina’s smirk softened into something more genuine, more vulnerable. She gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
Kate moved. She pushed herself up, kneeling, and her hands went to the shoulders of Selina’s catsuit. She peeled the tough material down, not with seductive grace, but with a soldier’s efficient focus. She exposed Selina’s arms, her collarbones, the swell of her breasts. Selina lifted her hips, helping to shove the suit down to her waist, where it bunched. Kate didn’t remove it further. The restraint of it, the leather binding Selina’s lower half, seemed to focus Kate’s intent.
She looked her fill. Selina lay half-trapped, pale skin glowing against the dark carpet and darker leather. Kate’s gaze was a physical touch, mapping the landscape she’d bitten and kissed into possession. Then she bent, and her mouth found the hollow of Selina’s throat. This kiss was different. It wasn’t claiming. It was remembering.
She licked a slow path between Selina’s breasts, her tongue leaving a cool trail. She took one nipple into her mouth, sucking with a deep, steady pressure that made Selina gasp and arch her back off the floor. Kate held her there, one hand splayed on Selina’s ribcage to feel the frantic drumbeat of her heart. She lavished the same attention on the other breast, her teeth providing a sharp counterpoint to the wet heat of her tongue.
“Kate.” Selina’s voice was a strained whisper. Her hands came up, tangling in Kate’s hair, not guiding, just holding on.
Kate didn’t stop. She kissed down the quivering plane of Selina’s stomach, her tongue dipping into her navel. Selina’s abdominal muscles jumped under her lips. Kate’s hands gripped the bunched leather at Selina’s hips, her fingers digging in. She looked up the length of Selina’s body, their eyes locking.
“I want to taste you,” Kate said, the words rough. “All of you.”
She didn’t wait for permission. She yanked the catsuit and Selina’s underwear down in one brutal, efficient pull. The cool air hit Selina’s cunt, and she flinched. Kate settled between her thighs, pushing her legs wider with insistent hands. The scent of Selina’s arousal, mixed with her own, was pungent and immediate. Kate breathed it in, her own need coiling tight again low in her belly.
She didn’t start gentle. She pressed her open mouth against Selina, a full, wet contact that made Selina cry out. Her tongue plunged inside, fucking into her with a slow, deep rhythm that mirrored Selina’s earlier possession. She tasted their combined spend, salt and musk, and a sharper, clean note that was purely Selina. It was filthier, more intimate than anything that had come before.
“Oh, fuck,” Selina moaned, her hips lifting. “Right there.”
Kate obeyed, her tongue curling, searching. She found Selina’s clit, swollen and throbbing, and zeroed in. She alternated—broad, flat strokes that made Selina shake, then focused, rapid flicks that bordered on cruel. She slid two fingers inside Selina’s sopping cunt, pumping in time with her tongue. The sounds were obscene: wet suction, skin slapping skin, Selina’s choked, pleading curses.
“Don’t you dare stop,” Selina begged, her back bowing. “I’m so close, you fucking saint, don’t you stop—”
Kate redoubled her efforts. She sucked Selina’s clit hard into her mouth, applying a vicious, perfect vacuum. Her fingers crooked, pressing up against that front wall, stroking relentlessly. She felt the exact moment Selina shattered. The inner muscles clamped down on her fingers in a violent, rhythmic pulse. Selina’s scream was raw, ripped from her throat, her body seizing like a live wire had been shoved into her spine.
Kate rode it out, drinking every convulsion, until Selina collapsed, boneless and trembling, onto the carpet. Only then did she slowly release her, kissing her way back up Selina’s shaking body. She kissed Selina’s stomach, the space between her breasts, finally her mouth, letting her taste the explicit proof of her own climax.
They lay like that for a long time, skin cooling, breath mingling. The jet hummed on, a mechanical cradle. Kate’s head rested on Selina’s shoulder, her arm thrown across her waist. The bite mark on Selina’s collarbone ached dully, a satisfying pain.
“Thorough enough for you?” Kate mumbled into her skin.
Selina’s laugh was a breathy, spent thing. “Passing grade.” Her fingers traced idle patterns on Kate’s bicep. The high receded, leaving a deeper, more complicated quiet. The carpet was beginning to itch. Gotham was still out there, a rotten tooth they’d both been picking at. Him, in his cave, deciphering their bloody message.
The storm wasn’t coming. It was already in the air, carried in the silence between their heartbeats. They had maybe an hour before landing, before the game violently resumed. For now, this was the eye.