His love for her burned brighter than the stars, ran deeper than the most cavernous trough, and surely dated back eons, but never had he loved her more than he loved her in the most immediate moments after she willingly faced a probable death to save his life.
It wasn't the first time she'd risked herself for his sake, but the magnitude of this risk exceeded all of the other times combined, times ten. To infinity, and beyond that, too.
He owed her infinite worlds filled to the brim with sky blue daffodils, rivers which flowed with warm honey, and mines filled with the rarest diamonds.
He offered, instead, something he could give her in this earthly form, and what she required is something she'd been begging for, for months: for him to ravish her body, filling her to capacity with his love, as she laid there...completely defenseless.
A wry smile curled across his lips, in response to her request, but she assured him, this was no joke. "I want you to put those cuffs to good use," she replied, nodding in the direction of their dresser where they lie. She was up on her feet before he could respond. At the dresser, she looked back at him coquettishly, running her fingers across them.
As tantalizing the request, usually, he'd fight her on this, for she was far too beautiful, and far too delicate, for him to give her what she desired. But not this time. She was the sole reason he would get to live to fight another day so at this moment, she could have any and everything she damn well pleased.
So here they are, hours later.
She now lays comfortably on her back, legs spread, hands gathered above her head, cuffed to their headboard. She's wearing only the natural blush of woman, preparing to be completely devoured by her lover.
Her juices drip from his lips, the result of his time spent licking her sweet pussy towards two wave inducing orgasms. He draws his tongue across them, wanting to savor her nectar, as they move onto the next part of the evening.
Slowly, he crawls up her naked body, one hand stroking himself stiff. The naughty glint in his eye, as he prepares to lower himself into her warm and inviting channel, causes her breath to hitch.
He's had her heart for years, and her body for a brief spell, but never has she been this close to letting him have all complete access to her, and then some. This is new territory for them, but a rather fitting line to cross, after having dove from a building for him. He was the only man in the multiverse worthy of such a sacrifice and he was the only man in the multiverse worthy of this level of submission.
"Fuck me, Flash," she demands when he lingers on her too long. The time will come for adoration and grandiose declarations of love. Probably after he nurses her sex-battered body back to an optimal state of being, as he sings sweet nothings in her ear.
First, she needs him to destroy her; then, and only then, can he put her back together.
He smiles, unable to contain the delight he feels when she calls him by his alter ego. He wastes no times scooping both hands underneath her ass, pulling her down further on the bed to him. She squeals, as he pushes her legs open wider, and rubs the tip of his cock against her sensitive slit.
No sooner than her brain registers the pleasure, he's balls deep inside of her, thrusting like there's no tomorrow, and maybe there very well isn't. Death wafts in and out of their lives like a distant relative. It's only a matter of time before it comes for one of them.
All they truly have is now, and he's taking advantage of every single blissful second together. There's raging fire in his eyes; every time he slams down into her, it crackles brighter, and his body burns hotter. She gasps loudly, cursing herself for being foolish enough to willing rid herself of her defenses. His back should be marked with fresh red welts, which heal nearly as quickly as she can put them there. Instead, her body writhes wildly, out of control, underneath him, her hands tied together, above her head.
She has no way to ground herself against his welcomed assault on her womanhood, yet he's digging marks into the sides of her thighs and panting her name like a beloved song. "Iris, Iris," he grunts," eyes laser-focused on her own. "So. Good," he sings, voice pitched higher than before.
Through her moans, she smiles, the change evidence that, that nagging care he has for her, is being superseded by lust.
"Take me Flash," she wails, egging him on. "Take me.
"All of you?" He has to ask.
She thinks for a moment. To have more of him is for their bodies to merge together in a blur of lightning, his current passing from his body, inside of hers, and back out of again. To have more of him, she has to risk never again being the woman she once was before.
But she's known that woman for a lifetime, and she's more than overstayed her welcome. She's ready for him to introduce her into the next part of herself, the better part, the one primed by pleasure and by pain, yearning and wanting, the one who's been through hell and back, on her way to ecstasy, and who can fully say that she, and she alone, has had all of the Flash, mind, spirit, and body.
"Every last gotdamn bit," she growls back, completely content knowing these may be the last coherent words she'll ever speak.