A/N: This fic takes place later in the evening following the last westallen scene (& also before Jesse arrives). It is 100% very explicit smut. You've been warned.
*Inspired by the somewhat raunchy twitter convo involving wanderer765, sendtherain, and newsflash52.
*Many thanks to my lovely beta, sendtherain, for doing another amazing edit. And to enefasparable (on AO3) for insisting I follow through on writing this piece, even though hers is 1000x better. ;)
I love you all!
*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
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"How are you feeling?"
The quiet, concerned voice made Iris look up from her laptop and smile softly at the man standing just outside their bathroom, his damp hair spiking in all directions from the towel he'd carelessly dried it with.
"I'm great, babe."
She set the laptop on their bedside table and patted the empty space beside her. Barry ambled over and slid beneath the sheets. He leaned in and kissed her, a slow, sensuous kiss that sent a delicious tingling sensation all the way down to her toes.
Barry's hand traveled beneath the sheets to her body and paused at her hip, squeezing gently. There was a subtle heat in his eyes when he lifted them to look at her, but the residual concern made her worry.
"What is it?"
She tilted her head to the side in question. She cradled his face with her wrapped-up. Barry turned towards her palm, then brought his hand to hers and pulled it back just enough so he could kiss her fingers.
"Babe?"
"You're really great?" he asked, not answering her question.
"Yeah," she said softly, pulling his face closer to hers and kissing his lips to persuade him.
"Does it hurt?" he murmured between kisses.
She shook her head, brushing her nose against his.
"It just needs to be covered up, remember?" He nodded reluctantly. "I don't feel any pain," she assured him.
Flashes of her writhing in pain flitted through his mind. He caught his breath.
"Barry," she whispered, trying to coax him out of it. She let her nails glide down his neck and felt him shiver.
His eyes met hers.
"I love you," she said. Then she smirked and pressed a finger to his cheek. "I love all of you, remember?"
The concern faded from his eyes, and he nodded.
"I remember."
Tenderly, his hand grazed her neck, tracing the graceful lines. Then deliberately, as if concern hadn't dominated his entire being only seconds earlier, he pulled down the straps of her nightgown until the cusp of the fabric dropped below her breasts. His eyes widened and focused on them. Then he lowered his lips and kissed them. When his tongue circled around one nipple as he prodded the other one with his fingers, Iris gasped.
"Barry," she moaned, her hand coming around to tighten in his hair.
He opened his mouth till it enveloped half her breast. She arched against him.
His hand released her other breast to smooth across her bare back. Then he moved lower, pushing the nightgown farther down until he could slip his hand beneath her lace panties and squeeze.
She moaned louder. This time instead of merely pulling at his hair, arching into his tongue and teeth, Iris started to claw. Half-dazed with desire, she tried to pull off his t-shirt by dragging her nails up his back.
"Take- it-" She was breathing heavily. "Off," she demanded, a sexy squeak slipping past her lips when his attached to her throat.
His hand cupped her left breast again, kneading it, making her legs restless beneath the sheets. Already weakened by his touch, she just barely managed to pull him away from her, to keep his chasing lips from capturing hers again.
"Barry," she breathed, relieved to realize her hands had made it around to the front of his body.
She paused at his torso, using her feather-like touch to pull the shirt upwards. Barry made no move to assist her until she'd gotten the fabric past his nipples. Then he obliged and lifted his arms so she could pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the floor.
Iris returned the earlier favor. Her mouth latched onto his nipples, creating a shivering sensation down his body. Her hand pressed to his abs, running her fingers into each dip in his skin, lifting and falling in time to his quickening breathing.
Barry could not withstand the sensual torture without resuming his own. He swung her legs over his calf, cursing himself now for daring to wear sweats to bed.
"I want to feel you," Iris whispered hotly into his neck.
His hand crept up her silken smooth leg and cupped her ass cheek. He squeezed, and she moaned.
"There's too much space between us," she complained, nipping at his skin, curling her arm around his waist and drawing her leg higher up till it almost reached his hip.
If we were any closer, we'd be connected, he thought, but he knew what she meant.
Without taking his eyes off her, he pulled back the sheets on his side of the bed. With a speed that almost made her laugh inappropriately, he rid of himself of his pants and boxers and sheathed himself in a condom, moving so fast that the bedside table almost shook.
It took her slightly longer that him, but Iris rid herself of the rest of her garments and tossed them to the side as well.
Kicking the sheets back further, Barry placed Iris beneath him, her head nestled in a pillow, her hair fanning out. He hovered over her, drinking her in. He thought about how beautiful she was, how perfectly they would fit together in mere moments, and how much he loved her. The look in her eyes screamed the intensity of her desire for him, her desperation. She looked as lost in him as he was in her, so much so that her limbs didn't even move to wrap around him for a moment. She just stared into his eyes, mesmerized.
"What's my name?" he asked, his voice thick with desire, but also half-wondering himself.
Iris blinked, unsure if he was serious or just goading her. She'd said his name multiple times already.
But maybe he needed to hear it again. And maybe she needed to tease him, instead of just letting herself be seduced.
She smirked and wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for a scorching kiss.
"Barry," she said. Then her eyes twinkled. "Duh."
She angled her head to kiss him again, but he held himself back enough that she couldn't in that single stretch. Confused, Iris searched his eyes for an answer. What she saw there nearly stole her breath.
"No, Miss West." He shook his head, a teasing smirk on his lips. "Try again."
Suddenly she traveled back to Jitters in her mind's eye, reliving all those meetings with the Flash. Before she knew he was Barry, before anyone knew anything about him, when all she wanted was to tell the whole world about who he was.
But also, she wanted him. She really wanted him. It was a guilty pleasure she'd had, fantasizing about the man in red saving Central City, wondering what he could do with his hands, and…other portions of his anatomy, if he could run so fast.
There was nothing wrong with a little fantasy, she'd told herself. Surely she wasn't the only taken woman who had lusted after the Flash.
After finding out Barry was the Flash - when the rage and hurt subsided, when she found closure after months in drowning of the grief of Eddie's death, when she let herself remember the stirring of feelings she had for her best friend - it had come back like a clap of thunder.
The man in red she'd lusted after while in a relationship. That wasn't just the Flash. That was Barry.
The cocky flirting, the whisking her off her feet, the heat emanating from him when he stood right behind her.
That was all Barry.
And now, she felt all of it.
Her mind rushing back to one moment in particular, the first time he made her heart race.
That wink.
And then later – "what other girls?" – that made her weak in the knees.
She resurfaced.
"Flash."
Barry let her drag him down to her now, let her plunge her tongue into his mouth. His tangled with hers, then he came up for air and tugged at her bottom lip, feeling the soft brush just moments before it captured his own again.
Iris's hands curved over Barry's shoulders. Her legs hooked around his hips as her nails dug into his back.
She felt his hand move down her body. When it reached her belly, his mouth detached from hers and started the descent. His fingers crept inside her, slowly, torturously.
"B-Barry, p-please," she begged.
He licked the valley between her breasts and continued the wet, lingering kisses down her body.
"Not my name, Miss West," he breathed hot against her skin.
She gasped when she felt his fingers suddenly leave her and held her breath as his lips hovered above her core, his hands grasping her propped up knees. He lowered his head and licked her folds slowly, drawing his tongue to her clit for one brief moment before shying away.
Iris arched off the bed.
Barry wanted to lift his head to look at her, to tease, to smirk, to remind her that he had her in the palm of his hand – or on the tip of his tongue rather – and that she was powerless to stop the rush of desire flooding through her.
But he couldn't. He was mesmerized by how wet she was, how she clenched when he slowly drew his hands up her thighs, stopping at her pelvis, squeezing.
"Oh God, Barry," she whimpered when his head ducked down just enough so that his hair brushed the base of her torso.
"Say my name," he vibrated. Not into her, as he would inevitably do, but in his vocal chords, so he sounded exactly as he had when he was only the Flash to her. When he was the superhero that made her heart race and her blood pound, even as she told herself it wasn't cheating.
"Flash," she cried out, her orgasm washing over her as his tongue dove inside her and found her clit.
His tongue vibrated. His fingers dove back inside and vibrated too, making her come again.
"Oh god, oh god."
Her toes curled, digging into the sheets.
Before it was over, Barry traveled back up her body and sank his length into her, groaning in pleasure.
He pulled out and thrust back in, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Then speedster-fast; Iris could barely stand it. They came together this time, and it was so intensely thrilling and overwhelming that when it was over a sheen of sweat was imprinted beneath them on the sheets.
Barry's elbows were propped up, so he wouldn't collapse on top of her. But, weak and slightly shaking, Iris wrapped her arms around his back and forced him down.
He succumbed and lay there, breathing heavily, telling himself he needed to move. But Iris wouldn't let him.
So he nestled his head between her breasts, finding comfort in the rise and fall of them against his skin. And he could hear it, her heart beating, racing. The breaths leaving her mouth in a hurry. He could feel her fingers winding through his dripping locks.
"H-How was that, Miss West?" he asked, only half-succeeding at vibrating his voice.
Iris gently smiled as she let her fingers flit across his shoulders.
"Miss—"
She put a finger against his lips so he couldn't finish his query. After a moment, she let her arm fall to the side. Then her fingers returned to his head, gently massaging his scalp, winding themselves in his damp hair.
"Amazing, Bear," she said a while later, taking him by surprise.
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, searching for the reason behind the name change. His eyes squinted in confusion when she offered nothing but a smile.
Her hands cupped his face.
"My Bear. Barry Allen."
She brushed her nose against his and sealed her devotion with a tender kiss. Her lips lingered when they parted and then spread into a wicked grin.
Barely audible, the whisper came, faint and breathless on her lips.
"The Flash."
...
A/N: Thanks for reading. Happy reviews are love. :)