SON OF BATMAN

Without waiting for a response, Alfred made a quiet but purposeful exit, leaving the room with his usual grace, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Alfred had seen situations like this many times before during Bruce Wayne's days as Gotham's infamous playboy. Back then, moments like these had been a regular occurrence, each one reinforcing Alfred's finely honed sense of timing.

Years of practice had taught him when to leave, and more importantly, when not to look back. It seemed that skill was now being put to good use once again, albeit under very different circumstances.

As soon as Alfred was gone, Yvonne wasted no time. She moved fluidly, straddling Damian's lap with a confidence that left no room for hesitation.

She moved slowly, swinging one leg over Damian's lap until she was straddling him. Her leather pants clung to her like a second skin, the soft creak of the material barely audible over the crackling fire.

She shifted her weight, settling onto his thighs, her knees pressing into the cushion on either side of him. Her body molded to his as if she belonged there, and she did. Her hands rested lightly on his broad shoulders, her fingers brushing the firm fabric of his coat, but she didn't lean in just yet. Instead, she tilted her face slightly, her sapphire eyes locking onto his dark ones.

A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, teasing, almost playful, but her heart was pounding beneath the fitted fabric of her turtleneck. She couldn't help it. The way Damian sat there, silent, unyielding, his black eyes fixed on hers, set her entire body humming with tension.

His gaze wasn't soft or admiring; it was cold, steady, indifferent. But that indifference only made him more commanding, more magnetic. She could feel the strength in his stillness, in the quiet way he dominated the space around him without saying a word.

Damian didn't move, didn't touch her, didn't lean into her as most men might have. He just sat there, letting her settle on top of him, his face unreadable and his hands resting casually at his sides.

The sheer control he exuded sent a shiver down her spine, making her chest tighten and her thighs press harder against his.

She searched his eyes, looking for some flicker of emotion, but there was nothing. The only reaction she could discern was the slow, deliberate rise and fall of his chest, his breathing calm, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

Yvonne's smile widened, just barely, and she leaned in closer, her blonde hair tumbling forward over her shoulders. Her lips hovered just inches from his, her breath brushing against his face.

The heat between them was unbearable now, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second. But Damian didn't lean in to meet her, didn't close the gap between them. He remained perfectly still, his gaze locked on hers, his silence as commanding as any order he could give.

That was all it took. Her patience snapped.

She closed the distance, her mouth capturing his with sudden, desperate force. Her lips pressed hard against his, parting instantly, her tongue darting out to taste him.

Damian stayed motionless for a second before he responded without hesitation, his hands coming up to grip her hips in one swift, deliberate motion. His fingers dug into her flesh through the tight leather of her pants, pulling her flush against him as his mouth claimed hers.

The kiss was fierce, unrelenting, his lips and tongue dominating hers with the same control he always wielded.

Yvonne moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his white hair as she clung to him. She kissed him harder, more desperately, her body pressing closer to his, trying to draw more of him in. Her hips shifted against him instinctively, rolling against the solid weight beneath her, and she shivered at the feel of him, hard, unyielding, utterly in control.

Damian's grip tightened on her hips, holding her in place, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a raw, hungry intensity. There was no gentleness in the way he kissed her, no tenderness, only possession. Yvonne whimpered, her nails digging into his scalp, and he responded by biting her lower lip, just hard enough to make her gasp. The pain mixed with pleasure, sending a hot, electric jolt straight through her.

She broke the kiss for a moment, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. But before she could move or speak, Damian's lips were on her neck, his teeth grazing the delicate curve of her throat.

He kissed her there, hot and insistent, and her head fell back, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders as she arched against him. His hands roamed up her sides, his thumbs brushing the curve of her waist before sliding down to her ass, gripping her with bruising force.

Yvonne's body moved against him without thought, her hips grinding down on him as she chased the friction she craved. She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her, and it only made her movements more desperate.

Damian didn't stop her, but the way he held her, the unrelenting strength of his grip, reminded her that he was still the one in control. She belonged to him, and he could take her or stop her whenever he chose.

She kissed him again, harder this time, her lips crashing against his as if she were trying to provoke him, to pull something more out of him. But Damian's control never wavered. His kiss was just as fierce, just as consuming, but there was no loss of restraint, no giving in. He kissed her like he owned her, his dominance absolute, and Yvonne melted into him completely.

Damian's grip on Yvonne tightened as the kiss grew fiercer, his hands sliding down from her waist to the fullness of her ass. His fingers pressed into the leather that clung to her curves, his palms spreading to claim the entirety of her bountiful flesh.

Without breaking the kiss, he buried his hands deeper, his fingers kneading her as if testing the weight of her. Yvonne gasped into his mouth, her body arching against him, but he didn't give her a moment to recover. His mouth was relentless, his tongue sweeping into hers, devouring her, claiming her as completely as his hands claimed her body.

The next moment, Damian moved. With a low growl reverberating deep in his chest, he stood, lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing.

Yvonne clung to him instinctively, her arms looping around his neck, her legs locking tighter around his waist. She felt the solid strength of his body beneath her, his raw power holding her steady as he straightened to his full, towering height. His hands gripped her ass harder, his fingers sinking into her flesh through the leather, his touch rough and possessive.

Yvonne didn't care where they were going. She didn't even notice they were moving. Her world had shrunk to the space between them, to the heat of his mouth on hers, the press of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth against her lower lip.

She was completely immersed in the kiss, drowning in it, and she never wanted to come up for air. Her fingers tangled in his white hair, pulling him closer, her nails scraping against his scalp as her thighs tightened around him. Her trust in Damian was absolute. He could carry her anywhere, to any corner of the earth, and she would never question him. She was his.

Damian navigated through the mansion with practiced ease, his strides steady and unhurried, even as the kiss grew hotter, messier.

He moved like a predator in the dark, his boots echoing softly against the marble floors as he carried her through the halls, up the wide staircase, and toward the master bedroom.

His strength was palpable, every shift of his muscles beneath her sending a thrill through her body. Even as he climbed the stairs, Yvonne felt no jolt or stumble. His grip never wavered, his hold on her unshakable.

The air between them burned as their lips collided again and again, their kisses ravenous and unrelenting. Yvonne moaned softly into his mouth, her breath hitching as he bit her lower lip hard enough to sting.

Her hips shifted against him, grinding faintly against the hardness she could feel pressed between them. She didn't even realize when they reached the bedroom door, didn't notice the creak of it as Damian pushed it open with his foot, didn't see the luxurious expanse of the master bedroom waiting for them. All she felt was him.

Damian stepped inside, his gaze never leaving hers, even as his hands shifted on her body.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides, then stopped beside the lavish bed, a massive thing covered in dark, rich fabrics, its edges carved with intricate patterns.

Without a word, he pulled her away from him, breaking the kiss for the first time since he'd lifted her. Yvonne's head spun from the sudden rush of air, her lips swollen and wet, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. But she didn't have time to think, to adjust, to question.

With one powerful motion, Damian threw her onto the bed.

Yvonne landed on her back, the plush mattress bouncing beneath her as she hit it. Her blonde hair fanned out around her like a golden halo, her legs splaying apart from the force of the toss.

She gasped softly, more from the shock of the motion than from any pain, there was no pain. Only the dizzying, electric sensation of being handled, of being claimed. Her sapphire eyes blinked up at him, wide at first, but then they narrowed slightly, her lips curving into a playful smile.

The smile wasn't mocking or defiant. It was teasing, full of devotion, and just a hint of mischief, like she was daring him to do more.

Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, but her gaze didn't waver from his. She was still humming with the heat of the kiss, and now, with this quiet moment of pause, her smile said everything her voice didn't.

Damian stood at the edge of the bed, towering over her with the stillness of a predator, his dark black eyes fixed on her like she was prey that already belonged to him.

His face was impassive, unshaken, his chest rising and falling in a steady, controlled rhythm. It was maddening how unaffected he looked, like the firestorm of their kiss hadn't touched him at all.

And yet, the way his gaze lingered on her, the weight of it dragging over every inch of her body, told her otherwise. He didn't need to say a word. His presence alone made her shiver.

Yvonne tilted her head slightly, her playful smile deepening as she let herself sink back into the plushness of the bed. Her golden hair spilled over her shoulders, her body relaxed yet thrumming with anticipation.

She licked her swollen lips, savoring the faint taste of him that still lingered there, and stretched her arms above her head, the motion drawing attention to the curves of her body and the way her leather pants clung to her thighs.

"Damian," she said softly, her voice laced with amusement and desire, though she knew he didn't need to hear his name to know her thoughts. The way she looked at him, full of trust, full of need, was answer enough.

Damian didn't respond. He didn't need to. The way his dark eyes roamed over her, from the curve of her waist to the faint heave of her chest, to the way her legs had fallen open slightly, said everything.

His silence was louder than any words he could speak.

Yvonne's smile faltered for a fraction of a second as the weight of his command washed over her, the playful spark in her eyes giving way to something deeper — utter submission.