Chapter 17 #2
We dry off in soft silence, and he helps me into one of his old T-shirts he’s left here. It drowns me in all the best ways—like armour and comfort and Jake wrapped into one.
But when we crawl into bed and he pulls me into his arms, the air shifts. My breath hitches when his hand brushes the inside of my thigh. Not intentional. Not a move. Just... a ripple of something warm and wanting waking up underneath all the ache.
I tip my face up to his. “Jake?”
He hums, his hand settling gently on my hip.
“I don’t want to feel anything but you right now.”
His eyes turn molten. “You sure?”
“I don’t want soft right now. I want to feel like I’m not broken. Like I’m real.”
His lips part, jaw flexing like he’s holding back a dozen emotions. “Then let me give you that.”
His hand slides under the shirt, finding bare skin, gripping tight enough to anchor. His other hand trails up and curls gently—firmly—around my throat, his thumb stroking where my pulse jumps.
“You wanna feel real, baby?” he whispers, leaning in until our noses brush. “Let me make you forget everything but me. Let me take all that ache and turn it into something good.”
My breath comes out shaky, but I nod. “Please.”
His grip tightens just a little—enough to make my toes curl.
“Say it again.”
“Please,” I whisper.
“That’s my girl.” He kisses me hard, no hesitation. It’s rough and all-consuming, all tongue and teeth and want. His hand stays wrapped around my neck like a possessive necklace—not choking, just there—reminding me who’s holding me together.
He rolls on top of me, one knee nudging my legs apart, his cock already hard and heavy between us. I can feel him through his briefs, pressing against my heat like a promise.
“You’ve got no fuckin’ clue what you do to me, Stella,” he growls against my mouth. “You walk into that workshop, all boss energy and tight skirts and fire in your eyes, and all I wanna do is bend you over my desk and fuck you.”
His hips grind down, dragging a moan from my throat.
“You want that?” he breathes. “You want me to fuck the stress out of you?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Yeah, you do.” His voice drops lower, dirtier. “Wanna feel this pretty cunt stretch around my cock. While you forget all the hurt you’re feeling.”
He drags the shirt up and over my head, exposing me fully, his gaze hungry. “You’re mine tonight. No past, no pain. Just this. Just us.”
“Jake—”
He silences me with another kiss, then sits back to strip out of the rest of his clothes. The second he’s naked, he’s on me again, spreading me open, slipping his fingers between my folds.
“You’re already wet for me,” he murmurs, satisfied. “Fuck, I love this body. Love how it responds to me. Like it knows I’ll take care of you, even when I’m being rough.”
He circles my clit with his thumb, making me gasp. “This what you need, baby? Me buried inside you, taking all that anger and turning it into moans?”
I nod frantically, breathless.
When he slides inside, it’s deep and slow, filling me completely. I arch into him, legs wrapping around his waist as he groans into my mouth.
“Fuuuck, you feel good,” he growls, starting to thrust. “So tight. So wet. You take me like you were made for it.”
His rhythm builds fast, hips snapping into mine, the slap of skin echoing off the walls. Every thrust hits deep, pulling breathy sounds from me, dragging me closer to the edge.
“Say my name,” he demands, tightening his grip just a touch.
“Jake—”
“Louder.”
“Jake!”
“That’s it. Scream it. Let the fuckin’ neighbours know who’s making you fall apart.”
His hand eases enough for me to breathe deeply again, but the pressure lingers—keeping my brain in that hazy, delicious place between pain and pleasure.
“Gonna come for me, boss girl?” he pants.
“Yes—yes, Jake—don’t stop?—”
“That’s it, Stella. Fucking come. Let go. I’ve got you.”
When the orgasm hits, it tears through me like lightning. I cry out, shaking, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered. He follows seconds later with a guttural groan, hips jerking as he empties himself into me.
He collapses on top of me, face buried in my neck, both of us gasping, sweating, trembling.
For a long moment, we just lie there. Tangled. Spent. Quiet.
Then he shifts to his side, pulling me with him, one arm wrapping tightly around my waist as our legs knot together under the blanket. His chest is warm against my back, his breath steady against my shoulder.
“Better?” he murmurs, voice rough and low.
“Much.” I smile, lazy and loose. “That was... very therapeutic.”
He chuckles, kissing the curve of my shoulder. “I aim to please. I’m Batman, after all.”
“You exceed expectations. Every single time.”
“Mmm.” He hums. “Remind me to put certified emotional support root on my resume.”
I laugh, snuggling closer into his arms. “And to think you started this whole thing as a masked stranger at a party.”
He nuzzles my neck. “Don’t act like you weren’t into the mask.”
“Yeah, well... Batman’s kinky cousin turned out to have some very useful talents.”
His hand slides lazily down my thigh, squeezing gently. “That so?”
“Very so.” I reach back to run my fingers through his messy hair. “But it’s not just the sex, Jake.”
“I know.” His voice softens. “I feel it too.”
A quiet settles over us. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just... safe.
“Jake?” I ask after a while, my voice small again, but not scared.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I should talk to him? Actually, talk to Doc, I mean. Not just scream at him.”
He doesn’t answer straight away. His thumb brushes back and forth along my hipbone, thoughtful.
“I think... you’ve got nothing to prove. Not to him. Not to anyone. But if there’s a part of you that wants answers—wants to understand—maybe it’s worth listening. Doesn’t mean forgiving. Doesn’t mean forgetting. Just means you’re not running from it anymore.”
“I don’t want him to think he’s entitled to a relationship just because he’s sorry now.”
“He’s not,” Jake says, firmer. “But you are entitled to peace. To clarity. And if hearing him out gives you that, even a little, then maybe it’s worth it.”
I sigh, eyes tracing the faint patterns on my ceiling. “The thing is... I’m not that scared eighteen-year-old anymore. I’m not lost. I’m not waiting for someone to show up and save me. I have a family now. A life. A workshop full of lunatics and friends who’ve somehow turned into my ride-or-dies.”
“You’ve got me,” Jake says quietly. “Every part of me. Batman’s Kinky Cousin and all.”
That makes me laugh. “God, I can’t believe that nickname is going to stick.”
“Oh, it’s tattooed on my soul now. Kinky Batman, at your service.”
I turn to face him, curling into his chest. “I don’t think I would’ve survived seeing Doc again if you hadn’t been there.”
He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb along my skin. “You would’ve—because you’re tough as hell, Stella. But I’m glad I was.”
I rest my forehead against his, letting the quiet stretch.
“Maybe I can afford to hear Doc out,” I whisper. “Not because I owe him anything. But because I’m finally strong enough to hear it without it breaking me.”
Jake presses a kiss to my temple. “Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”
“I know.”
We lie there, wrapped in each other, the weight of the day softened by warmth and connection and a man who, for all his dirty jokes and mechanical know-how, has become my safe place.
Because this—this quiet stillness—feels more like home than anything I’ve ever known.
Doc might share my blood, but Jake shares my heart.
And if Doc wants a place in my life now, he’s going to have to earn it. Because I’m not just the niece he abandoned.
I’m Stella Lloyd. Operations Manager. Girlfriend to Batman’s kinky cousin.
Part of the best bloody found family a girl could ask for.