In this chapter, we finally begin to learn more about Sylvia and her late husband that Jonathan learns himself, paralleled to the original in "The Words" as well as to Alice's own backdrop involving her gold-digging mother. :) Everything is leading up to the next stage in his and Iris' relationship.

The chapter is titled after a famous song, which you will see very soon. This is Sarah Brightman's version, from her album "Harem".

Chapter Sixteen

What a Wonderful World

The day had finally come, and Iris now stood with Alice in her bedroom that she shared with Jervis, which differed completely in style from the one she and Jonathan shared, which the couple seemed to be okay with. Dominated by a massive dark canopy bed covered with old-fashioned Chenille bedding, the walls were adorned with a few nineteenth-century pictures of English ships embroidered with wool thread known as "sailor's wools." An American tambour desk - an old-fashioned desk with desktop drawers - made in New England in the early nineteenth-century, completed the room's less formal atmosphere. Both women stood before the bed, their dresses for the event lying across the comforter, displayed in all their eagerness. Alice swallowed hard. "This is it."

"Yes, it is, sis," Iris said, reaching to finger the sash of her robe, not opening it as she had nothing on underneath. "This is your big night…just a couple nights before the literal big day." She turned to look at her with a grin. "Are you excited?"

"Oh, I'm very happy." Alice walked over to where her gown lay, running her fingers over the soft blue fabric. "Help me in?" she questioned.

The party didn't start until one hour, but they were done in less than twenty minutes. Alice's took the longest because she had more lacing in the back than Iris' did in the front, and she had to make sure her sister didn't suffocate at her engagement party. "All done," Iris announced as soon as she was finished. "All we need is the final touches."

By the time they were finished with their makeup, they both gasped in amazement at the work of art done to each other. Alice had never worn eye shadow before, but the metallic ocean blue powder around her eyes made them pop out more than they did, making them the most noticeable part of her face. Her lips were painted a soft, stunning shade of pink, giving them a natural shimmer that captured the tiniest flicker of light. Her hair had been curled and held to the back of her head, exposing the back of her neck, with white flower pins stuck in to add more style but not too much; stunning vintage diamond and pearl earrings hung from her ears. Finishing the look was the pendant Jervis gave her, that elegant asymmetrical design accented with tanzanite.

Iris, on the other hand, was simpler than she was, as the darkness around her eyes made it difficult to discern whether she wore eyeliner or not, and her naturally dark rose lips were glossed to a shine. Her raven waves were left to tumble by themselves, accented by a beautifully crafted circlet of Celtic swirls, created with a genuine tanzanite and four peridots. Some of her hair was tucked behind her ears to show mystic topaz studs in the lobes.

The two women had done many things to make themselves presentable, but this hit the spot: this was who and what they were. Who they really were. Both were blossoms that bloomed late, the most rare and beautiful. One was a rose that had a warm inside as she did out, the other an iris with a cold exterior and a warm heart. This was the way that their men loved them. Iris smiled for a moment before it completely disappeared as an embarrassing, humiliating memory came back to her, out of the blue. She bowed her head to Alice wouldn't see, except she did. "Iris, what's the matter?"

"Well…" This sort of thing was embarrassing to tell a family member, but Alice was her sister, and they shared everything. "Okay, this is hard to say, but - but on the day we got here, and I went to take a bath, I, um…you know, got out that stuff you got me on my last birthday and…" She trailed off, feeling her cheeks blush and heat madly.

Understanding lit up in Alice's blue eyes. "Oh, I see." And then realization replaced it in a matter of seconds. "Wait, you mean Jonathan -"

"Walked in on me," Iris confessed, guilty. "You can imagine how terrible I felt. Even when he told me that even though this was normal for a human being, he wished he…" She swallowed hard. "…made me feel that way."

Her sister's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, but then there was a soft chuckle of amusement at the door. Both girls turned their heads to see Sylvia standing there in a dark blue velvet dress with black bead decorations at the full hem. Her fair face was reddened slightly from trying to hold in her laughter. Immediately, Iris felt like she was going to wither and die like the flower of her name. But Sylvia gave her a look of understanding. "My girls, the both of you look extravagant. Your men are going to fall off the stairs tonight."

~o~

Jonathan found Jervis standing beside the refreshment bar, sipping his wine as if in thought. He considered joining him, as it had been so long since he'd had a real drink because of course seeing as this was his best friend and said friend's fiancée's night tonight, perhaps he could have one or two before the girls arrived, as a cheers for the big day which was not far away.

Jervis was in a black signature suit and white shirt like he was, except he wore a light blue satin striped tie while Jonathan's was mossy green. He handed Jonathan a cut-crystal champagne flute from the table - which was long and set with a diamond-patterned white tablecloth and damask-printed table runner and tall pieces of crystal globes filled with lit candles - as though reading his mind. "Jon, do you know where the ladies are?" he asked, looking around. "The party's going to start soon."

"I'm not sure…" Jonathan admitted, looking around, too. "I'd say they were still getting ready." Of course, he thought. Women take longer than us men to get ready for these things.

"Not anymore." Jervis was no longer looking around, but rather looking past Jonathan's shoulder, and Jonathan followed his gaze…to the top of the staircase. He thought he was going to drop his first and only glass that night.

Alice and Iris stood at the top of the staircase, Sylvia right behind them as to make the attention all on her two granddaughters, except she looked remarkable in her old-fashioned blue velvet dress. There was the lady of the hour herself in a waterfall-colored dress that flowed beautifully in an asymmetrical wave. Her hair was pinned up, curled, and accented with little white flowers. There were no sleeves so her arms and shoulders were left bare. The tanzanite necklace from Jervis bumped lightly over her heart. He heard Jervis suck in a deep breath as he took in the sight.

Iris was a different story altogether, as usual. There she was in velvet at its most alluring. The black velvet dress flowed at the waist and bodice with a full-length panel of iridescent blue velvet from the neck to the hem. Her hair, curled thicker than usual, was glossed to a natural shine and accented with a mystical circlet on her forehead. She was…beautiful. Both moved down the staircase with their grandmother tailing. Sylvia gave both Jonathan and Jervis a smile of amusement at their expressions. "Aren't they absolutely magnificent, gentlemen?"

Jonathan blinked and swallowed, regaining his composure as he had been too busy taking in the sight of his beautiful Iris before him. "You both look…beautiful," he said, unable to pull himself together.

"Indeed, absolutely stunning," Jervis breathed. He held out his arm for his bride-to-be, which she accepted with a flirty smile, leaning up to press her lips against his in an innocent yet suggestive manner, which brought out a chuckle from her grandmother. Their descent into the grand dining room for dinner before dancing in the dance room left Jonathan before Iris once more. He held his arm out for her.

"Shall we?" The moment she laid her hand on his arm, she leaned in and gave him a tender peck on the cheek. It was then that he smelled something entirely different off of her - a luscious floral completely separate from the one she would wear back home on a special occasion and her favorite perfume. This was of amber and rich woods…to bring her femininity to a huskier level.

The dinner table had been decorated to corporate with the style of the party, having been hung with various crystal chandeliers in a straight line down from one table end to the other, illuminating the shimmering white tablecloth underneath the crystal candelabra and Sylvia's fine English rose china. After that and fine courses from the selected menu, everyone filed out for the dance room. This wasn't as lavish as the Egyptian-inspired ballroom of the other DeLaine Manor, but nevertheless, it was beautiful in every way. The walls were graceful and white, carved similar to baroque times, the ceiling hung with five chandeliers of countless crystals of clear and ice-blue. It was then that Jonathan heard the song that was beginning to play for the guests - namely the couple of the night - and he wordlessly and gently maneuvered Iris to the middle of the floor so that they were near Jervis and Alice, getting into the traditional dance positions and beginning the slow dance on the rich blue carpeting.

I see trees of green, red roses too

I see them bloom for me and you

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

I see skies of blue and clouds of white

The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky

Are also on the faces of people going by

I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?"

They're really saying "I love you"

It was then that Iris pulled him away from the dance floor and towards one of the curtained doors. This puzzled Jonathan until she opened the door so that they were outdoors, on the porch facing the gardens. The stone-white stairs were seven-tiered, the first resting under their feet and the silvery white columns - the work of the moon overhead - supporting the roof above their heads, some draped with roses of pearlescent blush and dark green foliage, giving off a powerfully sweet aroma in the air. Before his eyes was an arched trellis between the clearing of Russian elm trees and small evergreens, with more climbing roses and dark green foliage - huge, romantic red blooms with fragrant, velvety petals based on the shimmer cast from the moonlight, and pure white ones - where he glimpsed a pathway that would lead out to a garden of more roses. Again, it wasn't as lavish as the one at Iris' estate, but it was beautiful nevertheless.

He looked to his side to see Iris lean her back against one of the pillars, slipping off her heeled sandals, giving him a little grin…a mischievous grin. And he knew what she was thinking.

As it turned out, Sylvia DeLaine's rose garden wasn't as vast, but it was surrounded by woodland acres and filled with hundreds of thousands of roses, their colors ranging from dark red capturing the essence of romance with its full-blooming velvety petals and intense tea scent, to satiny pink with a milder tea rose fragrance, to super-sweet yellow ones that would have glowed as brightly as the sun if it was daylight, and gardenia-scented ones as white as the moon. In the center of the garden was a gazebo, shimmering white and a little more along the lines of old-fashioned than the Temple of Love, with a fading triangular rooftop and latticed poles. Resting before it was a small pond centered with a spraying fountain, surrounded by more red roses. Yet none of it mattered to Jonathan but the girl in front of him, her flowing mane of hair as black as the sky above giving off streaks from the silver orb in it. She pressed herself up against him, her sapphire eyes tinted by the ethereal glow overhead. "It's the full moon," she whispered. "Kiss me, Jonathan."

And he did, savoring the sugary taste and silken feel of her lips, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her close. He felt her arms wrap around his neck and bring him down further for more contact. It was a truly wonderful moment, far better and more realistic than the lovey-dovey romance the media and literature portrayed. This was not only the intense desire he had felt since she was a teenager, but also the love for who and what she was. She was as broken and passionate and renewed as he was.

Unfortunately, it had to end, because there was a call. "Iris! Jonathan! Are you alive out there?" Iris laughed at her grandmother's voice despite the fact that they'd unwillingly parted for that.

"Yes, Grandma," she returned. "We're out here."

"If you two are done out there making passionate lip-locking…" Sylvia's tone clipped humorously. "…then come right back to the party. Your sister is looking for you."

An exasperated sigh escaped Iris' lips as she looked back up at Jonathan. "I suppose we better get back."

"Yes, we should," Jonathan agreed. When they returned to the place they'd left, they found Sylvia standing there, an amused twinkle in her eyes. Jonathan knew what she was thinking. "Oh, no, Sylvia, nothing inappropriate happened, I assure you."

"I never suspected anything of the sort," she replied. "Iris dear, why don't you get back to the party while I have a word with your fine young man here?"

"Certainly, Grandma." Iris gave Jonathan a quick kiss on the cheek before walking up to her grandmother and doing the same before disappearing behind her. He watched her go, then looked up to see the elder woman smiling at him and gesturing for him to follow her.

"May I ask what you wish to speak to me about?" Jonathan questioned as they walked up the staircase. Sylvia looked over her shoulder with a little smile.

"I wish to tell you a story, a story that I told the girls and Jervis but never had the chance for you. A story about my late husband Andrey who left me before Iris was even born."

They had reached the master bedroom where the matriarch slept at night. It was a European retro-style, modern and old-age combined, and it was as "antique in good shape" as the woman who slept in it. The tiles of the floor were of the royal parquet wood that the French would put in the Versailles palace, whilst the taupe walls sported different shades of it in the form of large damask patterns. Navy curtains ornamented with gold pieces draped the long window, currently drawn closed over the window, but the room was lit up by the overhead chandelier of clear and red crystals. The bed set was designed to fit the royalty theme. With an antique white finish and a beautiful hardwood, intricate gold details creating a classically relaxed atmosphere, the bed had carved details and a red velvet finished headboard, and carved overlay molding on both the headboard and footboard. A comforter of large magnolias and colors of red, white, and green graced the bed. Jonathan sat down at the foot of the bed and watched as the elder woman sat down beside him and began her story.

"I was seventeen when I met Andrey DeLaine. He was a member of the business in the Soviet Union, but life in Russia was difficult. Difficult enough that my parents wanted me to marry a man who would ensure our survival. As you can see, my life was not that much different from Alice's in that department. Nevertheless, I was determined to get away from my family and establish an identity for myself, but when I was that young at the time, I had not thought much of it. Andrey was ten years my senior, but it didn't matter to me because he treated me like a human being and not like the puppet that my parents - specifically my mother - always treated me. He was my best friend."

Jonathan felt his insides melt as he now learned this magnificent woman had been through more than anyone else knew. "You loved him all along even though you were still young," he stated gently. "When did you realize your feelings were real and not silly?"

Sylvia laughed lightly. "When I was twenty-three, same as Iris is now. But during those six years, even after I finished schooling which doubled my working hours, I had been trying to find a man to make my parents happy - someone with a higher class, but to no avail. But before it was Andrey and myself, I had found someone who hadn't satisfied my parents even though I had somehow been drawn to him. His name was Victor, and he was very handsome - an American, no less, who had been in Russia studying for some time. We were together for two years before it ended, and he went back to New York following that. It was also due to my mother's mad ranting that he was not deserving of me, and Andrey was there for me by the time I had enough of her and my father. Aside from that, his company was collapsing and he was determined to leave Russia for good to go to America himself to start anew -" Her eyes were shining bright with tears of happiness. "- and he asked me to go with him."

Jonathan smiled. "Somehow I knew that was coming."

"And no sooner had I agreed, he knelt before me and asked me to marry him - and in front of my disapproving parents." She paused there as though feeling her innards tighten as she had that day. "They disowned me right there, said I was a disgrace, but it no longer mattered to me. They were never my family."

She reached over to the nightstand, picking up the picture framed in antique brass, showing a timeless-looking tinted photograph of her and her late husband, his handsome face framed by waves of dark hair like himself, his bride beside him in a beautiful lace dress centered on Bohemian. The neckline plunged slightly, the sleeves poet illusion flaring over her arms, and the train flared like a calla lily. Her long dark curls were loose like her youngest granddaughter's, whilst her forehead was accented with a sharp, unique circlet. Sylvia was a beauty then as she was now that Jonathan still saw Iris in her - and he tried to picture himself and her in her grandparents' place in the photograph.

"Sylvia," he managed, looking back up at her, "I had wondered how you would be before we met. My grandmother wasn't the one that you are, and all my life I had been raised to believe I was worth nothing more than an abomination, a freak in God's eyes, not worth to love..."

Sylvia silenced him by putting a hand under his chin tenderly, the loving gesture making him close his eyes. "Sssh, my darling boy, some of us are not so fortunate - yet we always have to find means to escape, as Andrey and I have. When we came to New York, he established his own company there, while I became a Russian ballet dancer. Not long after that, our first and only son, Marcus, was born - Iris' father. The point I'm making is that you spent your life being shackled by hatred until you broke free. You found someone who makes your life worth it for all it is, despite those around you looking at you in a manner that makes you small. I was not that different. My granddaughter loves you - her mother was a monster that I tried to protect her from, but Maria always threatened to have her secret ways to get rid of me and leave the child alone - and you love her."

"I do," Jonathan choked out, cursing his unmanliness. "You're absolutely right. She was my best student, but she was more than that. She was the only person who wanted me because I was all she had. She was the only good thing in my life, and she didn't reject me, toss me away just like everyone else did. She wanted me, she needed me…and she loves me."

"My point, once more, yes. I should have chosen duty above true love, but I did not. It was not easy, but it was worth it. What you lose, you gain in return. My husband was worth it all as Iris is to you - do not let her go, Jonathan, that is all I have to say to you. I have explained this to Alice, and look at her and Jervis in a couple more days to come. You and Iris might not be ready for that stage yet, but you had better make your next best days count..."

She's right. I lost my years of research and hard work…but I gained the only woman in my life, Jonathan thought, feeling his mouth turn upwards on both corners. He nodded as he stood from the edge of the bed. "Thank you, Sylvia." And for that he left the room in a flash, dashing down the hall until he reached his and Iris' room. He didn't stop until he reached that door. His head was racing, his stomach burning as the story etched into his brain. Everything Sylvia spoke about her late husband made him rethink Iris and himself. There was no time to think this over because he knew what he was feeling. Iris was his and only his, and he loved AND desired her greatly. He couldn't fight this off anymore. It had been over a decade since it happened to him, but he couldn't let that monster in his memory win the battle weakening him and ruining his chances with the woman he had grown to love.

As soon as he got himself together, the moment he opened the door, he got a surprise.

The lights were all out, except the room had been lit with candles flickering about, from both nightstands beside the bed to the vanity, shadows dancing upon the walls, the air filled with various aromas ranging from midnight jasmines to give the magic of a midsummer's night's dream, apple cider to spice it up, fresh cut roses to sweeten it, and that of a Bahaman breeze to create the shivers of anticipation. The covers of the bed were drawn back to show exquisite ruby red sheets and for the figure laying on her side in a suggestive manner. She looked up at him, her eyes hooded with dark desire, then the right side of her lip lifted into a half-smirk as she lifted her left hand from her side to the neck of her black robe, drawing it down to show a bra of dark fuchsia overlaid with black lace…tempting him, luring him into her embrace. He could feel the heat build up in his lower stomach as he began to approach the bed, closing the door behind him and locking it.

His dark angel was calling for him at last.

~o~

He leaned over her, a figure in black and white - his jacket discarded, leaving him in his white shirt and green tie, which would soon be loosened - with a face devoid of all expression except for a devilish smile forming on his angelic face. And his eyes were all but…blue and cold as the winter's frost. "How long have you been waiting for me?" he whispered, reaching up to loosen his tie from its knot but leaving it around his neck. He then brought that hand down to pull her robe open further to show a low-rise thong of black lace while at the same time, she reached up to pull his tie off from around his neck.

"Forever…" she answered breathlessly. "Since the first moment I saw you…"

His thumb had been running over her bottom lip as she spoke. She gently pressed a kiss to the point, and the languid, building desire in his blues was building, silently telling her that she was coaxing out his desire for her. She looked up at him with her blue orbs, telling him that she, too, needed him.

Her black-tipped fingers fumbled with the buttons of his collar shirt, all the way down to the end, and opened it to expose plains of pale flesh marred by scars from years of abuse, visible ribs, a leanly muscled chest, and a slightly in-curving stomach with what she'd imagined was there - a barely-there six-pack. The dancing flames of the candles highlighted every curve and contour of his body.

"Jonathan…"

His lips lowered to hers, hands gripping her hips in the way she'd dreamed before unhappily waking in her office near the end of that day, curling in his fingers to leave dark bruises on her skin. But it didn't hurt much, and she didn't think she so much as winced, but released a growling moan that matched that of his mouth. She felt him push her robe off her shoulders and tried to slide it off her, but her body was pressed against the bed. She aided by lifting off her back to let him finish, pulling the sheer silk off her arms and discarding it to the floor beside the bed. Her hands came up to grasp his shoulders, nails digging in and nearly scratching and tearing the pure yet marred flesh. He hissed gently when she drew blood. He didn't like it; he loved it.

"God, Iris," he murmured. "This is more than I anticipated. I have never in my life imagined something this wonderful igniting a fire so extraordinarily powerful." He had been so close to her ear that it sent shivers down to the breast in that direction. She giggled.

"Am I really that much of a tease then, Jonathan?" she drawled.

He traced a finger over the black-and-fuchsia lace that still covered her breast. "You always have been. You knew this was going to happen tonight, but you decided to surprise me, didn't you?" His voice was a magnificent hiss, as though Scarecrow was threatening to resurface. "I remember when I saw you when you were barely fifteen years old and I healed your wounds that night. To see your bare, vulnerable body made my own feel a certain way it had not in a long time since..." He stopped himself there; they both knew exactly what he meant that was best left unsaid. He leaned down to press a kiss between the valley of her breasts, his tongue sweeping over each scar curving downward to the inside. "I love these scars, not compared to the ones still on my back and lower."

Iris gasped sharply as she felt his narrow, lithe body between her thighs, his clothed groin thrusting and grinding against hers with no mercy. The slick, tailored material of his pants and the rough lace of her underwear created burning erosion; she felt the rigid heat of his length as it strained behind his pants. Her body was screaming to the high heavens for more of it. This was the most erotic thing she'd ever felt in her life and wildly out of sync with all her fantasies. All those times - day and night - she'd spent in her bed with her hidden "tools" of the line named after the age-old Indian sex book, exploring and exciting her body with her hands and the potions, seeing his face, hearing his voice and feeling the touch of his lips and hands…nothing was compared to this.

"Feel what you've done to me all these years?" Jonathan growled seductively, grinding one more time against her. The sensitive skin beneath the hard lace and curls throbbed intensely with pleasure.

"Oh, yes, I do!" she gasped, closing her eyes and moaning when he rubbed himself against her. Just to play with him, she reached to pull her thong down to show herself to him, but he caught that naughty hand with his, giving her a warning look. "Well, if you don't want me to touch myself there, do it yourself. I did the work all those years - now it's your turn." She grinned at his look of surprise and brought him down to kiss him, hand on the back of his head and woving through his groomed raven waves, swallowing his groan and accepting the fruit of passion. "I don't need to say it, but I'm still your first."

"Iris…" He threw his head back and let out a guttural groan that clearly said he was taking her innocence and purity and turning it into something frenzied and passionate. "You really shouldn't have said it so shamelessly. The beast within me is ready to take your innocence now."

And that was what she wanted all along, for him to take her and make her his. She'd waited long enough. He snarled in triumph and reared his head back with the grace of a snake and lunged forward, sinking his teeth into her neck, biting the soft, delicate flesh, bringing a thick swell of blood to the surface. That was going to leave a bruise that would exist for less than a month but more than a week. His mark reminded her that she was his and his only. She shrieked out in the most exquisite pain and pleasure. This behavior was not the man who had been her professor of psychology at GSU, nor was he the quiet, angry, and lost youth sexually abused by his professor, or the arrogant, cocky former director of Arkham Asylum...he was a creature of long-locked desire released from its cage.

She stretched her arms over her head so that she was grasping the headboard, turning her eyes down to where her breasts were walled away from full contact with his hands. Jonathan brought his hands to her hips, not grasping this time, and slid them feather lightly up her sides until they were cupping her breasts, massaging them firmly and teasing the hardening buds behind the lace. The garment was off without as much unhooking the back. Her breasts, barely filling a B-cup, spilled out in a bounce before his dark, lustful gaze. An equally twisted small graced his full lips. "These say it all," he purred, the manic gleam in his eyes still there. His mouth locked to her left breast, teeth shocking her nipple while his hand squeezed its partner and the top. She whimpered and moaned, her arms still stretched over her head as this omnipotent, beautiful man enraptured her with his mouth. Her blood burned because his mouth lit her skin and sent it through her nerve channels, bringing her to life like a star going into a supernova. She looked down as she felt him pull down her underwear - the last piece of clothing on her - and yanked them off from around her feet so that it was in the same pile beside the bed.

Jonathan groaned as he looked her over, his gaze making her shrink a little - from the soft swells of her breasts to her hips and waist that were subtle woman defines now, no longer jutting shards of bones, and to her parted legs lean as a horse's. "Still eager to take my virtue, my darling Master of Fear?"

He grunted, running his hands along her sides, over her hips, up her waist, and up again to her breasts again, and down again. "Oh, you have no idea, Iris…you're even more beautiful than I remember you…"

His hands drifted down to caress her thighs - earlier she had shaved so that her skin was left for his touch, silky, smooth, and ready for love, with the refreshing scent of sweet pomegranates - leaning his head forward there at the same time. And then she felt it - something warm and moist invaded that uncharted territory that she refused to call by that vulgar name that was used to call the female anatomy. His tongue had slipped itself in there, lips tasting, to feel what he was doing to her - oh, God, all the things he was doing with his mouth was more than she'd fantasized and so good - and how hot…very hot…and so wet he'd made her. She could imagine a finger or two in there as she'd rehearsed herself numerous times, but his fingers would do a much better job than her own. She uttered a shuddering gasp as his tongue swept over her pearl, tasting it like he would the inside of a juicy red apple. The soft curls of her pubic hair rubbed against his nose, and it sent more shivers up her spine...then some time which felt like a minute passed, and she felt the building there like she was about to release. She was going to come when they had so much to do first, to see each other orgasm in sheer bliss. "J-Jonathan!" she gasped.

"Mmm…?" He lifted his head from her spot, lips faintly shining from her nectar.

"Don't…want to stop yet…"

"Oh?" He delicately lifted an eyebrow and shifted himself up. "And why is that, my little flower?"

She grabbed his hand to bring his hand back to where he'd been mouthing her, him doing the thing of slipping in a finger to feel the molten heat that was still there. "I can't describe it…what you're doing to me…I want you inside me. I want to feel you in here - finish it off that way."

He smiled, his finger probing that wonderful spot. "My most beloved Iris…I most certainly will suffer heartbreak if I leave you this way." He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of her neck. "I promise I will grant you the most powerful release of passion of all time…" A finger slipped in and began to circle while stretching her at the same time. A little pain was due to the fact her muscles didn't relax at first until she took a deep breath and willed herself to do it for him. No preparation meant the pain would be extreme, and they both knew that. As soon as he was finished preparing her, he withdrew his fingers from her. She moaned in disappointment at the loss of contact, but he only smirked as he reached down to undo his belt and button and flies, pushing his pants down to his knees along with his underwear. There she saw him for the first time, and words put that part of him to no shame. He was beautiful, with his need nestled thickly among such gangly limbs. Jonathan leaned back over her at the same time he brought himself back to the apex of her legs, telling her she was all his now, and began to carefully penetrate her virgin spot. Iris let out a high-pitched shriek that could have broken through the walls and reached the ears of Grandma Sylvia, her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law - but the pain did not last as he began to move in and out of her, sighing passionately and closing his eyes, enjoying it for himself while making her relax at the same time. He was now rubbing himself against her, doing more of those things to her she'd only imagined in her wildest dreams, his whole package against her - everything from his manhood to his pubic region - and the rough texture of the dark hairs covering the latter part tingling a sensitive part of her in the process.

He claimed her and brought on the flames of love over them, the flickering candlelight around them intensifying those flames which had been the product of years of waiting, dreaming, and abuse - in both their cases. But it had all been worth it, and no one was going to come and part them EVER.

~o~

Let's just say for short that things were getting better for Eddie ever since Iris took off for her grandmother's estate on the other side of the city until her sister and Jervis were married. From what he understood, the wedding was in two more days, and once they got back, the papers would be drawn, and Edward Nygma would be a free man.

Joan had been handling the place in Iris' stead, and seeing Drew again had been great, for lack of a better, smarter word at the moment. He and his wife Rochelle had been visiting him twice that week, once bringing their two young children, Ben and Jenny, with them to finally meet their "Uncle Eddie" - they also had a third on the way - and the moment he met those two little faces of joy, he realized that he actually wanted to be a father. When Joan told him she was pregnant, he admitted that he'd been scared shitless, but lately the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. Drew offered him a job in the technology division once he was out of this hellhole, and that would also mean putting a deposit first on an apartment for him and Joan.

Speaking of which, the door was unlocking and opening, and only one person he knew would be coming into his cell at this time.

"Joan," he said with a smile, sitting up in his bed.

"Eddie." She turned around and opened up her white coat as soon as she'd closed and locked the door behind her. She headed his way with a little smile on her face, reaching up to open her coat to reveal not the sexy piece he loved so much, but an emerald green chemise with lace on the V-neck. It was short and sexy enough, though, and green.

"Mmm, short and sexy," he purred, "my riddle queen." He accepted her in a seductive embrace and a kiss on the lips, hard and needy. They had nine months, from what he understood about pregnancy, but there was more to that, as well. Joan would be experiencing the following symptoms that were common in the first few months: morning sickness, nausea, cramps, the usual. Not to mention high levels of anger and frustration, which meant that he had to be careful as to not arouse her wrath at irregular times.

"Thought maybe we'd get to it," she said, getting into his lap, dropping her coat to the dirty floor and not caring if it got dust on it. He noticed she had something in her hand, and his eyes went wide when he saw what it was: a rubbery green vibrator. Paired with something that looked like it was the classic form of lubricant…and one of the Pleasure Balms Pamela had been talking about - the one scented like refreshing, tingling spearmint, used on and he quoted, "the desired pleasure points like the thighs, breasts, lips, all the parts a woman likes to be kissed and touched." But then again it was used on men's places, too. Thinking that the vixen and the dim-witted harlequin used this stuff, too…that was more than he needed to dwell on at this moment.

"I was thinking we could try a new position I'd been reading about," Joan continued, standing up and dropping her simple black panties to the floor, the fabric pooling around her black stilettos. "It's called the 'vibrating V'. What you do is this…" She pushed him back up against the wall so that she was straddling him face-to-face. She then grasped the back of his shoulders for balance, then lifted her legs so her calves were on his shoulders.

Edward couldn't believe what was happening. Since her legs were on his shoulders, her lovely ass was placed on his clothed crotch, where his member was straining in his pants. He awkwardly fumbled with his zipper under there, her weight straining on her body as she lifted herself a little to help him get himself out. Just when he was getting situated, she slammed herself onto his member, and he was engulfed in tight heat. Edward groaned at the feel of her ass around him, even more when she began rocking herself back and forth a little. But that didn't seem to be enough for her as she held the vibrator in one hand as she used the other to coat it in the lubricant and handed it to him once he was finished. He was confused for a moment, but then it soon kicked in. Since his hands were free and her clitoris front and center, she was silently telling him that another part of this new position was to use a vibrator on it for a killer simultaneous orgasm.

~o~

Words couldn't place how beautifully ethereal the wedding was. Mainly blue with glowing silvery white from the lighting, this was an actual Wonderland. Not the picturesque universe of Lewis Carroll, but along the lines of a Winter Wonderland, and it was the first day of spring. Symbolic of the end of a season and the beginning of a new one - as the end of a life and the beginning of a new one. The dance room had been carefully and exquisitely crafted with trees that practically covered every part, reaching as tall as the ceiling. The lighting made them appear as blue as the rest of the room, the same with the ice sculptures of classical characters like the Mad Hatter, Alice, March Hare, the Queen of Hearts, and others.

The reception room where they would proceed to afterward was set in the same room, just off to another part of the forestry. The white tables were set with clear vases filled with lights and calla lilies, among other things like sweet pieces of colors in blues, browns, and whites. The cake was plain white frosting and four-tiered, designed with a colony of butterflies swirling from around the bottom all the way to the top of the cake in shades of ice-blue, turquoise, royal, and navy blue. The guests were seating themselves in two aisles of antique white finished chairs. Jonathan watched from among the best men - yes, he was one of Jervis's best men - as the groom himself fidgeted nervously from foot to foot. He put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "Everything's going to be fine," he assured him.

Jervis gave him a little smile. "I know, March. It's just that…I've waited my whole miserable life for her and I can't believe this is happening."

"And I'm happy for you," Jonathan told him, and that was when the music started up, announcing the arrival of the bridesmaids.

"Maybe someday it'll happen to you and Iris," Jervis whispered to him with a knowing grin, casting a look to where four women stood in strapless ruched blue dresses, in which Iris stood among them, holding a bouquet of oriental lilies like them. Her in blue with her hair in a trail of puffy curls was a sight to behold - when was she never?

He felt his breath catch in his throat as memories of that night lingered on his mind, and then the morning after, which involved the "reaching for the heavens" position where Iris was flat on her back and her arms raised overhead so her palms rested flat on the headboard; it was as if she was reaching for the "sexual stars". Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he was going to thank the Kama Sutra for all of this.

And then he remembered Jervis' remark. Marriage was never on his agenda in life, because he had been too focused on his career to even care about some woman. But now things had changed. He was only a little over thirty, and something was missing in his life. True, he had Iris, but he wanted more than just that.

A collective gasp arose from the crowd as all attention was directed to where the bride was entering with her grandmother in a long dress as silver as her hair. Jonathan looked at the groom's face to see his slackened jaw and starry eyes, then back to the bride approaching. Her gown was full and the traditional pure white with the bodice boned and set with blue butterflies, the satin part of the skirt cutting midway to show ethereal tulle and a few more butterflies throughout. Her hair was bunned up and elegantly curled and braided, all the same, set with little white flowers. For the past few years when he'd known Jervis, he'd told Jonathan that he'd waited his whole life for this one woman, and she was all who understood him.

Very much like him and Iris.

The guests were seated as soon as the bride took her place before her groom, and the ceremony began. The whole time, Jonathan couldn't take his eyes off of Iris even as the vows and rings were exchanged, and Alice Pleasance became Alice Tetch, and she and her new husband shared a kiss. As all of that happened, he once again imagined himself in Jervis' place, and Iris in her sister's.

I loved Iris and Jonathan's first time in "Descent into Darkness", in the sixth chapter, and it still makes me burn after over four years. ;D The position Edward and Joan also end up in is a real position with exactly those directions of use, and supposedly a, quote, "killer simultaneous orgasm". XD The next position mentioned between Iris and Jonathan involved "reaching for the sexual stars", but I forgot the name of it exactly.

The marriage of Alice and Jervis was always a dream to picture, so I'm glad about how it turned out in the end. :) Dreamy, nuff said.