Chapter 7…
A/N: First off, I'd like to apologize for the longer-than-usual delay in my update. I wish I could say that it won't happen again, but it probably will. Mostly, the day job has resulted in my barely being coherent in verbal interactions by the end of the day, let alone capable of putting complete thoughts into print. It could last awhile, unfortunately.
I'll also admit to becoming somewhat distracted (ok, incredibly distracted) by a trilogy of books currently on the NY Times Bestseller list that are about another young, gorgeous, emotionally closed-off billionaire who had a traumatic childhood and spends his nights inflicting pain on others – albeit for a much less noble purpose. I just had to see what the big deal was. I'll keep my review of the books to myself – but again, it most certainly has been a distraction. And educational. ;-)
Anyway, to address the question of several reviewers – I will most definitely be finishing this although it will be a little longer and take a little longer than the others I've done. Aside from attempting a one-shot or two, I probably won't be starting anything new until I'm done with it.
As always, many thanks to Daisy Jane for beta services rendered and in this particular piece, for her very special brand of lemon-flavored enhancements – you'll see. :-) This chapter necessarily diverts a bit in tone but will serve as a contrast for what's to come. It's also a really long chapter but I had a certain point I wanted to get to with this one. Oh, btw, as a reminder - it's rated M. Very M. You are warned.
Disclaimer: Once again, I own none of the characters or music referenced herein. I am making no money from this, so no need to sue. All I really have is piles of student loan debt – and I'd be more than happy to share that with others.
Take Me Away
youtube - DkX0ZaPzTnY
It was warm. He was warm. Almost too warm. He smelled the salt of the ocean. He could hear the waves crashing somewhere close by.
Bruce slowly opened his eyes. Everything around him was white. Very white. Pristine.
He sat up and slowly looked around. He had awakened to find himself alone and in a room constructed entirely of white stone, marble, and wood. Stone columns sat at each of the room's four corners. The walls looked to be made of wood – incredibly pale, almost white wood. Three of the four walls had ornate marble handles attached to a series of panels so that the entire wall could be opened. The fourth wall appeared solid, with a double doors and two more ornate marble handles. The walls of the room were draped in yards of white, gauzy fabric.
The bed he was lying on was huge – bigger than the one he slept in at the manor. The abnormally large bed had four marble posts at each corner and supports across the top connecting them to each other. The entire bed was swathed in the same white gauze fabric that was draped around the room, providing a transparent canopy. He was buried in soft white bedding that looked to be handmade.
He pushed aside the fabric hanging from the bed and stood up – much too quickly. Immediately he became lightheaded and had to sit back down. As he did, he was gripped with a sudden attack of coughing. As it subsided, he bent forward with his hands on his knees and tried to regulate his breathing. As soon as he regained his composure, he stood again, more slowly this time.
Quickly realizing that he was only wearing a pair of thin white boxer briefs, his eyes darted around the room, resting on a clothes chest not far from the bed. Inside, he found a few more pieces of clothing that he recognized as his own – a couple of loose fitting pairs of pants, shirts and underwear. He quickly pulled on a pair of gray cotton pants.
His face twisted into an angry scowl when he pulled open a second drawer. The two white chitons within immediately implicated the person responsible for bringing him here. Wherever here was. Bruce closed the drawer and tried unsuccessfully to calm himself by taking several slow breaths as deeply as he could with still-lingering symptoms of pneumonia. He shook his head in disgust. No doubt he would deal with her soon enough.
The room was sparsely furnished. The few pieces of furniture were all made from the same white wood and marble. A bowl of water, another empty bowl, a towel, and a small white bag sat on a table next to the bed. He cautiously looked inside the bag and discovered only some basic toiletries. A table and two chairs stood several feet away from a white stone fire pit that filtered smoke out through a small chimney in the roof. A cabinet sat next to the pit. It had storage underneath and white bowls of fruit and bread on top of it, which indicated its use for cooking. A large chair that resembled a chaise lounge sat at the other end of the room, piled with thick white cushions and pillows.
He moved forward to inspect the contents of the cooking area more closely. Besides the food, the cabinet contained various dishes, cups, and rustic-looking pots and pans. A tray full of cooking utensils contained a large knife with an ornately carved wooden handle.
Outside, he heard a soft thud and several footsteps. He recognized the sound immediately, but nevertheless he picked up the knife and turned, falling into a defensive stance. Cautious or paranoid, to him it was all the same and it kept him alive.
The white wooden door swung open. "Oh, you're awake." Diana breezed by him, looking comfortable and carefree in a short white chiton and leather belt with her lasso attached. She deposited a basket full of small, corked bottles on the table before turning to him.
"Good morning, Bruce," she said with a soft smile and a pleasant tone of voice. He stood in shocked silence, his eyes following her as she breezed by, acting very much like she was saying good morning to some random hero in the Watchtower commissary. With her back to him, he couldn't see her eyes. If he could, they would have belied her calm demeanor.
"Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat?" Diana walked to the fire, quickly and expertly lighting it with a flint. She placed a pot of water on a metal grate over the fire. Turning toward Bruce, she sat down and began sifting through the contents of the basket on the table. As she inspected the label on each bottle, she sat them up in a row. Then she opened up an empty teabag and began to fill it with various powders and dried leaves from each of bottles, one by one.
Bruce's shocked silence quickly turned darker as he watched Diana finish filling one teabag and begin filling a second. After a few moments of having his eyes on her, she looked up and smiled again, finally meeting his gaze. It took him an extra moment to suppress and push past that immediate feeling of peace he nearly always experienced when their eyes met.
He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "You drugged me," he accused.
Her smile faded as she shrugged and replied matter-of-factly, "Actually, Alfred drugged you. I kidnapped you." She looked back down at her work and picked up a third bag. "It's been awhile since you've eaten, Bruce. I'll cook some fish for us a little later but there's fruit and bread if you're hungry now. As soon as the water is hot, I'll make you some tea."
He continued to stare at her. "Where are we, Diana?" he said angrily.
She ignored his glare. "We're on an island."
"How did we get here?"
"Teleporter."
"I've had a lot of women in my life do crazy things to get my attention but kidnapping me to an island is a new one, Princess," he stated with a sardonic tone.
Diana just give him a withering glance and continued filling the tea bags.
"And why are we here?" he whispered softly, ominously. He didn't like her calmness...as if she had every right to control his life. Her swift change in expression proved that the dangerous tone of his voice affected her in much the same way it did his prey in Gotham.
She recovered quickly and lifted her eyes to stare up at him. "So you can recover from your illness," she responded defiantly.
Bruce continued to glare at her, his expression both incredulous and livid. Still in that soft, quietly menacing tone he replied, "I am going back to Gotham. Now."
Diana looked back down at her work and softly responded, "No, Bruce. Not until you're well."
"Diana, as much as I would love to spend some quality time with you, I have work to do," he stated. The sarcastic tone that returned to his voice hardly masked his barely contained rage.
She again ignored his tone. "And you have exceptionally well-trained protégés that are quite capable of continuing your work during your absence," Diana replied as she picked up yet another empty teabag and began to fill it. "It's called delegating, Bruce."
The tight reign Bruce had been keeping on his anger finally broke free in a flash of pure fury. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Diana?" he yelled. "Have you lost your fucking mind?!"
Diana lifted her eyes to his again. He glowered down at her. She wore the same determined expression that she had earlier at the Watchtower. "I did what needed to be done," she replied quietly. "Hypocrite. I did what you would do yourself, if circumstances were reversed."
Scowling at the stubborn look clear on her face, he turned and stalked out the door.
Bruce was furious. Diana had crossed a very dangerous line. He had no communicator, no PDA to call for the Batwing or to the cave for assistance…if he were to get any. His family, or at least Alfred, had been complicit in his abduction. There would be hell to pay.
He stormed down the stone steps in front of what from the outside appeared to be a beachside hut made of marble and stone. A walkway of wooden planks led from the house to the edge of the beach. When he reached the shoreline, he looked up and down the coast. In both directions he could see nothing but white sand. The island was small and remarkably beautiful but that did nothing at the moment to soothe his anger.
Bruce closed his eyes and listened. He heard nothing but the crash of the waves. No sounds indicating civilization whatsoever. Not even a seagull. He had no doubt that they were completely alone on this island. Which he was sure was the point to bringing him here. Diana knew him to well to give him any opportunity of escaping.
He opened his eyes and looked out across the wide expanse of ocean. Some distance away, he could see an outline of another land mass jutting up from the horizon.
From behind him he heard the sound of her footsteps coming down the wooden planks toward the beach. He continued to stare out across the ocean, ignoring Diana as she approached and stopped beside him.
"Bruce, I have no doubt that at full strength, you could swim that far. I don't suggest that you try it though. If the sharks don't get you, you risk an even worse fate if you actually make it across. At the very least you would be bound, gagged, and sent back over here in a boat."
Themyscira. "What is this place?" he growled back.
"We use this place as a getaway, of sorts."
"To get away from paradise?" he scoffed with a sideways glance.
She ignored his derisive tone. "Sometimes one needs a little solitude…"
"Having my free will stolen from me is not something I take lightly, Diana." His voice lowered to a warning whisper, "There will be consequences."
Diana sighed and shook her head. "Of course there will be. I didn't expect you to take my actions lightly. But I can't sit back and let you kill yourself because of your blind stubborn stupidity." She paused to reign in her emotions before continuing. "Risking your life to save someone else's is one thing – it is very much another to kill yourself simply by being stubborn and selfish. If you get another infection right now it will probably kill you. Quickly. Bringing you here was my best option for keeping you alive."
He turned to her, eyes blazing. "Selfish? I'm being selfish?" he barked.
Diana faced him and took a step forward, raising her chin defiantly. "Yes!" she yelled back. "Selfish. If you really gave a damn about the people who care about you, you'd take better care of yourself!" She stopped and took a long, deep breath. "What would we do, Bruce?" Her voice dropeed to a rough, emotional whisper, "If something happened to you…"
Bruce's anger dissipated slightly as he looked at her. Her eyes reflected an emotion he'd rarely seen from Wonder Woman – fear. He closed his eyes and turned back toward the ocean, shaking his head. He wasn't yet ready to let go of his anger. He shouldn't be here.
"So the Amazon princess gets to decide how I run my life. I am not one of your royal underlings. You had no right!" he growled through clenched teeth.
Diana's eyes narrowed at him but her voice remained calm. "Bruce, you were as close to death as you have ever been. Closer, I was told, than you were inside that Hades forsaken prison, infected with the Titan toxin. You will not survive another infection in your current condition." Diana paused and took a deep breath. "It would probably kill you. You can't just keep working."
"THAT'S MY CHOICE – NOT YOURS!"
"It's done. You're here. Deal with it."
"God damn it, Diana! You abducted me from my bed and deposited me in the middle of the fucking ocean!"
With another sigh, Diana explained tersely, "This was the only way to get you well before you killed yourself. You would stay on the Watchtower and Alfred couldn't keep drugging you. Without your equipment, you can't leave here until you are better. Themyscirian medicine should get your immune system back to normal in a couple of days instead of a few weeks." She held a cup out a cup of tea emanating a foul smell. "Drink the tea. I added a large spoonful of Manuka honey to make it more palatable. Epione, the Amazon healer, created it for this very purpose. It will stimulate your body to generate white blood cells much more quickly."
Bruce glanced down at the cup but didn't make a move to take it. "How would an island of immortal women with no modern medical expertise develop something like that? Or have cause to create it at all?" he said caustically.
"My sisters are not necessarily immune to all illness and injury. They have, on many occasions, needed such medical intervention. They are immortal but not invulnerable. Do not forget that it was one of my sisters that nearly wiped out the planet's entire male population with a virus she isolated and developed. You don't think all her knowledge came from forbidden books? Epione instructed Aresia in biochemistry. One tends to develop an advanced level of expertise studying the same subject area for thousands of years." Her irritation dissipating slightly, she offered Bruce a wry smile and raised the cup higher, gesturing for him to take it. "Drink. The sooner you get healthy again, the sooner you can leave."
At the mention of Aresia, Bruce stilled as a realization dawned. Men were forbidden on Themyscira. Yet, here he was, alone with their princess on an island that they possessed. With his anger once again surging, he turned back toward Diana. He nodded his head toward the sea. "They know I'm here, don't they?" he asked. He glared at her, his jaw clenched. "How were you able to get your mother's consent?"
Diana met his gaze, then looked away. "The law forbidding men doesn't apply to this island," she said but there was something evasive in her expression.
The question clearly made her uncomfortable. Bruce's heart began to pound hard in his chest, his anxiety growing. "She still doesn't like the idea of you bringing me here, right?" Bruce grimaced as her expression became even more evasive. "What did it cost Diana? What did you have to give for them to let you bring me here?"
"Nothing more than a promise to spend a more time on Themyscira." She smiled softly. It didn't reach her eyes. If this was their condition, Diana had clearly accepted it willingly, but he could tell that she was leaving something out. There was more to this.
"That's all? How much time, Diana?" His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. He continued without waiting for her response. "You shouldn't be making any bargains for my benefit. I didn't want this. What if you are gone and the League needs you?" he growled. What if I do? he thought but refused to say.
She turned away from his glare and looked back out across the water, shrugging nonchalantly. "It's already done. It's fine, Bruce. If there is a global crisis, I will be given leave. Anything else the League can handle without me."
Bruce was unconvinced and his anger still surged; however, his energy was waning. He scowled at her. "What do I need to do to prove I'm ready to leave, then?"
Turning back, Diana leveled her gaze at him. "Take me down. Just once. Then you can leave."
Her words hung in the air between them as they stared into each other's eyes.
After several moments, Bruce silently took the cup from her, turned away, and walked back toward the hut. The emotion in their interaction, the battle of wills – in his already weakened state, had left him exhausted. He felt the fatigue beginning to set in and sought to escape from Diana's careful observation before his body betrayed him again. As he climbed the steps to the hut, his strength suddenly left him completely. Halfway up the stairway he stumbled, as his knees gave way.
In a split second Diana was at his side and gently placed her hand on his on his arm as he righted himself. He tensed, his expression impassive as he turned away from her.
"Don't touch me," he hissed.
Diana drew her hand away as if she'd been burned. Bruce walked inside the hut and quietly pulled the door closed behind him.
He awakened several hours later feeling much stronger. And hungry. He quickly ate some of the fruit and bread along with some cheese he found wrapped in a cloth in the cupboard. The fat and protein helped the satiate him as he realized he hadn't felt this hungry in days. He washed it down with another cup of the tea and the antibiotics he'd found in the toiletry bag.
He was alone. When he'd finished eating, he paced the room and his thoughts inevitably were consumed by Diana. The intensity and variety of emotion she inspired never failed to take him by surprise. Years had not diminished them and at that moment they were as strong, varied, and maddening as ever. To his dismay and confusion, the abundant frustration and anger he felt at that moment seemed to only exaggerate his physical and emotional need for her – making it all that more important for him to keep her at arm's length. This was not an easily accomplished task on a normal day, let alone trapped alone with her on an island paradise. The situation played into too many fantasies and dreams that he had had of her. It was an impossible situation that only served to make him more furious. He shook his head to clear his mind. The kaleidoscope of emotions had quickly become too much to process. His eyes cast around the room looking for something else – anything else – to focus on.
The shutters on the walls were all still closed, so he opened them and allowed the ocean breeze to wash through the room. He moved the chaise lounge closer to the window and sat, watching the waves roll off of the ocean and crash onto the shore. The serenity was soothing to his aching psyche and he let his mind drift. But before long he fought off the relaxing effects of his environment. He did not need to feel a sense contentment and allowed the rage to consume him again. She had interfered with his mission and two little girls were suffering because of her. He needed to do something. Bruce was unused to being idle, mentally or physically. He rose with fury he didn't want to quell.
He left the hut and walked back out toward the beach. In the sand he discovered footprints – presumably Diana's – leading into a wooded area behind the hut and toward the interior of the island. Curious, he followed a path leading through the trees. Soon, he emerged into a clearing. As he reached its edge he found himself looking at a pool of water with steam gently rolling from it. It was a natural warm spring fed with fresh water from several small waterfalls around its edge. His breath caught when he realized that In the center of the pool was Diana. She stood with her back to him, waist deep in crystal clear water that reflected the light as if she were bathing in diamonds.
Once again, despite his anger and irritation or possibly more so because if it, his heart began to pound hard in his chest. He held his breath when she tilted her head to the side, as if she had heard some sound. After a moment, she moved to the far edge and slowly climbed out of the water. Bruce watched the beads of water flow down her smooth, bare skin, reflecting back the sunlight as they made their long journey downward across the small of her back, over the curve of her backside and down her endless legs. He was hypnotized. On their own volition, his feet carried him forward toward her. A moth to a flame. She picked up a white robe and slipped it on. It hung loosely below her shoulders as she turned to him.
They stood, transfixed, staring at each other. Neither spoke a word. Her eyes watched his face intently as his eyes left hers and he explored the length of her. She began to breathe harder but stood frozen, clasping the front of her robe together with one hand. The tension was palpable. For in the moment, time stood still.
The moment was fleeting.
Diana reached out to rest one hand on his chest and breathlessly whispered, "Bruce?"
Bruce stiffened. With just that one word – just his name – reality intruded again. He was immediately taken back to the cave when they'd last been this close and she had breathlessly uttered his name after pushing him away. She had come to offer comfort that night – help him to heal. It was the night the twin girls went missing. They were missing still. And he was here on this island paradise while two girls who had watched their father's brutal murder, now suffered through God knows what at the hands of a psychopath. He had no right to be here and it was all her fault. These thoughts were processed in an instant and his anger returned.
The trance now broken, Bruce roughly pushed himself away from Diana. He turned and walked deeper into the woods.
The sun was setting when he returned to the hut. After he left Diana, he had circled the perimeter of the island. The circumference was approximately two miles. It had only been a day, but he could feel his strength returning. When he reached the hut, he was winded but not on the verge of collapse.
As he expected, there were absolutely no other inhabitants on the island.
As soon as he stepped inside, he found that the air practically dripped with the most mouthwatering of aromas. He was hungry again. Hungrier than he'd been in weeks. The smells immediately drew him toward the rudimentary kitchen area. Swordfish and eggplant sat warming over the fire. A few roasted potatoes sat along the edge. Place settings had been prepared at the ready. In the middle of the table sat a bowl filled with chunks of tomatoes, feta, cucumber, and olives. Everything was coated in a dressing of olive oil. Next to the salad was a basket of flat bread. In front of one place setting sat ceramic cup with a fresh teabag resting on the bottom and a pot of honey sitting next to it. Bruce sighed, then grabbed the pot off of the fire and poured it into the cup.
He sat down at the table and squeezed the water out of the teabag and added a large spoonful of the honey, stirring it a few times. Finally he glanced over at the chaise lounge that was still sitting next to the open window. Diana was curled up there, facing the sunset. Her knees were drawn up to her chest as she hugged them to her with her arms. She stared out into the sunset, making no acknowledgment of Bruce's presence. He sat watching her as he drank the tea.
After the sun slipped behind the ocean horizon, she rose to her feet. His eyes followed her every move. She didn't speak or make eye contact when she passed by him to go to the fire to check the food. He continued watching her as she pulled an oil lamp from the kitchen storage cabinet and sat it on the sideboard. Soon, the room was bathed in a dim gold light.
The tension hung in the air as Diana proceeded to fill both of their plates with fish and vegetables. She sat down across from him and lifted her gaze to his as she began to eat. She stared back at him impassively as he glared at her.
They ate in silence. When she finished her meal, Diana sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. Now, she glared back at him. Her patience had finally left her.
"I've had enough of you glaring at me, Bruce. It never has intimidated me and it doesn't now. I'd rather you didn't look at me at all." She picked up their plates and deposited them into a basin of water. Her back to him now, she began to wash their dishes.
"This is wrong. I'm needed in Gotham." Standing, he growled at her, "You are preventing me from looking for those girls. I'm their best chance of being found alive."
Diana whipped around to face him. "Which is it Bruce? If your life is worth so little that you'd risk dying of some random infection, how is it that you also believe that you are the only one to handle anything? There are others out there looking. You trained them. Why can't you trust them? Why can't you trust anyone?"
Responding to her vehemence, he decided to take a different tact. If he pushed her, maybe she would become disgusted enough send him home. "I trusted you. Now I don't even know you. I never would have expected that you'd be so callous with the lives of two young children. You too will have blood on your hands if they've died while I've been stuck here with you." He repressed a wince. Aloud, the words sounded worse than he'd expected.
At his attack, the initial look of horror on Diana face was quickly replaced by anger. She reached out and slapped him. Very little strength was behind it or he would now have a broken neck. As it was, he staggered from the blow.
His eyes followed her movements as she pushed by him and walked to the open wall. She leaned against the stone pillar with her back to him, arms crossed, and stared out at the ocean.
As he rubbed his cheek, his iron-clad self-control was crumbling under the frustration of facing another night being trapped here. Another night not patrolling Gotham. He shook his head again he was bombarded with conflicting thoughts of her as he had earlier in the day. As he had every day since they'd met. Diana is only one he would have wanted but also the last person he would have chosen to be trapped with on a deserted island. Like always, he needed to put some distance between them. Her proximity always made him aware of his desire for her. The passion of his anger only served to fuel his passion for her. It was maddening. He needed to get off this island. Fine, then. He would do it her way. It was time to take her down.
He strode over and grabbed her arm in his large hand. Pulling roughly, he turned her toward him. She put up no resistance.
He stilled, shocked, as he looked at her tear streaked face. She took him completely by surprise. Diana didn't cry. At least not in front of anyone. Not in front of him. The last time – the only time – he could remember her doing so was when she and the world had thought Superman to be dead.
He never saw her cry when her mother had banished her from Themyscira. It had deeply wounded her, but nevertheless, she remained calm – sad, but calm in the presence of her teammates. As much as he knew she had been hurt by her mother's actions, he knew that right now he was hurting her even more.
He had done this. Even worse, he'd been doing it to her for years. With her tears, his anger washed away. What fell in behind it was guilt and a feeling of desperation from an overwhelming need to comfort her.
"Princess…" he whispered. He ached to take her into his arms.
Her eyes darted away from his as she correctly read the change of emotion reflected in them. "No, Bruce. Don't. I'm so tired." She let out a slow, choked sigh. "Long ago I accepted the fact that your life means more to me than it does to you. And that won't change. No matter how many times you push me away. It's why we're here. But I can't go there again."
He released her arm and cupped her face between his hands, turning her face toward his. Gently, he wiped away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs.
"Don't cry." His voice was now thick with emotion.
She blinked several times as she gazed up at him, her expression wary. "Please, stop this," was her whispered plea.
The request itself was somewhat ambiguous, but as much as he'd like to deny it, he knew exactly what she was asking of him. She should be asking him to stop playing with her. To leave her alone. He knew that she wasn't though. She was asking him to stop fighting her. Stop fighting it. Whatever it was that was between them. He wanted to give in, but still he held back, uncertain.
He looked down at her, searching her blue eyes for answers. That familiar tension was building between them. It hung thick in the air. Slowly, he watched the hopefulness return that had been missing in her eyes since Metropolis. Mixed with it though, was something else. Longing? Fear? The intensity of her gaze stoked the fire that always burned within him when she was near. He struggled against it, but his resolve to resist was rapidly melting away. Diana's eyes widened with apprehension in the wake of his increasingly heated stare.
Bruce fisted both hands in her hair and gently pulled her head back, tilting her face up toward him. He closed his eyes briefly while the remnants of his resistance struggled to survive. When his blue eyes flew open, they now burned with desire and a renewed purpose – determination etched with desire. Her sharp intake of air was audible.
"Oh," she breathed, knowing what was to come.
His mouth crashed into hers for a fierce, ravaging kiss. After a moment's hesitation she began to respond, her intensity now matching his. Every repressed emotion they'd had for each other over the years was poured into the kiss. Overriding them all was passionate desperation.
Gently he withdrew his hands from her hair. They skimmed down her sides, as one hand found her breast and the other rested on her hip. His grip tightened her against him, the evidence of his arousal firm against her navel. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Slowly, he pulled away from her now kiss-swollen lips and focused his attention just below her ear, his mouth blazing a trail of fire down the slope of her neck. His hand slid up from her breast and he slipped the fabric of the chiton over her shoulder to uncover every inch he could before he then retraced the trail with more fiery kisses. Diana moaned softly before a whispered question came, her voice laced with trepidation. "Bruce, what is this?"
"I want to stop fighting." Bruce murmured against her ear. "Being near you is driving me crazy even though I'm still angry with you. But the truth is that there is no one else I would rather be with. There never will be." How could there ever be? He pulled back and his eyes burned into hers. "I realize it must be hard for you to trust this, but I need you and I want you. Let me show you. Here. Now."
He still hadn't completely let go of his fury about her interference, but he knew why she'd done it. He knew why she'd risked his wrath and his rejection. She had brought him to this place, humbling herself in front of her mother, the Queen, in order to get permission to do this for him. However, now having made the decision to finally allow himself to touch her, he wasn't willing to let go – even for a moment.
Leaning down, Bruce nipped and kissed along her collarbone as he massaged her breasts. Under the fabric, her nipples stiffened as he roughly rubbed his thumbs across them eliciting a breathy moan from her. Slowly, he slid his hands down her sides, bending slightly to caress the length of her thighs. His finger retraced their path again, pulling the skirt of her chiton up as he retraced his path. He pulled his mouth from hers long enough to ease the white fabric over her head and toss it aside.
With an ever increasing intensity he kissed her again, his hand again threading through her hair to hold her lips to his. He snaked his arm around her waist and with his hand on her now bare backside, he lifted and turned her. Slowly, with his lips unrelenting on hers, he backed her up toward the massive bed.
Opening his eyes, he pulled back from her slightly. Her eyes flew open at the break in contact. Taking his hand in hers, Diana moved to lie on the bed, watching Bruce as his eyes raked over her form before he followed with a predatory gleam in his eyes. She watched intently as Bruce quickly removed his own clothes, his eyes continuing to burn with an unrelenting and escalating physical need. As he brought his eyes up to hers once again, he realized that she was gazing transfixed on his arousal. It occurred to him then that this was likely the first time she would have laid eyes on the fully aroused male form.
He climbed onto the bed, sliding one hand between her thighs and parted her legs. As he positioned himself between her legs with his hands resting on either side of her, she looked up at him hungrily. He leaned down to kiss her more gently but with no less promise. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss and demonstrating to him that her fervor matched his.
Bruce pulled his mouth from hers, kissing and nipping down her neck and across collarbone. Diana arched her back and moaned as he drew her nipple into his mouth, teasing one, then the other with an expert assault of his lips and tongue. His attack was unrelenting. Diana's breathing grew harsher as the tension began to build. She began to moan softly, lost in a fog of entirely new sensations. He slid his hand down her stomach toward her moist folds.
"Princess," he whispered and her eyes flew open. He let his finger gently stroke over her clitoris and watched her expression filled with ecstasy as her back arched and she climaxed.
He kissed her and then again stared into her passion glazed eyes. They engaged in an silent exchange that included a request and consent granted.
With the acknowledgement that she was still with him, he lowered himself and gently pushed inside her. Her eyes closed at the sensation. He waited, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him. She bit her lower lip as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and flexed her hips, then gasped at the sensation. When she rolled her hips tentatively, he was urged into action as he helped her establish a slow, steady rhythm. He picked up the pace as she began to writhe beneath him, pushing forward and picking up speed until he felt her muscles tensing around him.
As the pressure reached its limit, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut at the wildly more powerful pleasure that her previous climax had prepared to expect. She struggled against the almost painful pleasure.
"Yes, Princess," he whispered in her ear causing to open her eyes and lock into his fierce blue ones. "Let it happen," he groaned as his thrusts became uncontrolled and wild. His words pushed her over the edge and seconds later she let go, shuddering as waves of pleasure flooded through her. The sight, the sound, and the feel of her climax overwhelmed his senses and he soon followed her over the edge. He growled as pleasure coursed completely throughout his body. And for a moment nothing else mattered.
As their breathing calmed, Bruce braced himself on his elbows but made no move to separate them. He gazed down at her as he gently kissed her face. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled softly at her.
"Does that count as taking you down?" he asked breathlessly.
She returned his smile. "I'm not sure – maybe we should make it best of three?"
E/N: Want more (lemons)? Tell me what you think and review please!
