The smile that helped shape her parted gape could be heard as the oxygen left Ivy's lungs in sharp, but subtle spurts.  She showed her enjoyment of Batman's ability to follow her instruction, as for her intentions left no point in trying to hide it.  To have let the man roam blind would have been pointless to her satisfaction after it had taken so much work to get him here; distracted by the primal urges she induced rather than the reality of how toxic of creature she was.  He honed in on how best to appease her, and little by little confidence seeped into his touch the longer it played within the slick satin of her most powerful weapon.   Her guidance had been tender.  Her breathy moans encouraging in ways that could not be misconstrued for a reason. There was nothing about the sensation of Batman's attentive fingers that Poison Ivy had wished to subdue.  She was training him.<br/><br/>At her core, the sultry woman was being shamelessly selfish, intent on molding the Dark Knight to the fullest extent of her liking, and for a diligent woman, such things took time, patience, and practice.  The pleasure however wasn't hers alone, Batman's own grunt, thick with heated delight, proved he too found enjoyment in catering to the tease of her desires and milking them to the point that they coated his rough fingers.  She could get used to this she thought as he squirmed slightly beneath her and the roll of her hips ushered his reach ever further.  He wanted more, his tightened muscles told her so as Batman lacked much ability to do anything other than what Poison Ivy allowed.  But his hips tried to grind into her, and his unused hand twitched with a need to be, and though the protection that still separated her valley from his encased manhood was rigid, Ivy could still feel the way his want flexed against the material.  Fighting to be let free.<br/><br/>This wasn't all for nothing, reeling him in just to toss him out again and take her chances?  No, not hardly the plan of action the villainess was intent on taking. When Ivy let him walk out the door of her cabin, she would do so knowing that Batman was hers whether he was fully equipped to understand to what extent or not. The vines that were still wound around him moved, manipulating his arms to draw his reach from its welcomed invasion, and Ivy pulled the press of her figure away from his.  "Such a good boy," her honeysuckle voice praised him again in a girlish whine, as her hand returned to clasp at his retreating one.  Her brilliant emerald eyes sparkled, coveting that of Batman's blue stare, and for a hanging moment, it appeared as though Poison Ivy would draw his digits into her mouth as her lips parted with a look of delectable anticipation.  But, the anticipation didn't lie in the tasting of herself on his fingers, but witnessing his as her hold of his hand once again guided him, ushering the nectar that was his reward towards his lips, gaze falling to watch as they ventured to slide along his tongue.<br/><br/>"Tell me hero," she began, the proximity of her lips so close the grazed the corner of his mouth with her whispers.  "Is it sweet on your palette...A price worth paying for a measly park and the lives of your self proclaimed charges?"  She wasn't being abrasive, not in the way Poison Ivy typically was, but even as her tone crooned like a lullaby, her words held unspoken purpose that was more than just an attempt at pillow talk. Pulling Batman's fingers from his mouth, Ivy let her own tongue ride along their length as her eyes fluttered shut and a moan slithered through her body upon his lap.  Her tongue danced gingerly around the tip of his index finger, but soon Ivy released his hand and her ever faithful plants brought both of them to her sides; one a cool touch of rubber, the other the warm palm of a man. One Batman, one Bruce.  "And what about your secrets?" She lapped at his lips instead.  "Is it decadent enough to be worth their security?"