Justice League 1. Red

An ENORMOUS thanks to **Dinasis** again for the beta and making me look like I know what I'm doing. You're awesome, my friend! Hope you guys enjoy this. If you want to know what happens next, let me know. If enough people like it, I'll write a sequel. :)

**Red**

What is your favorite color?

It's a pointless question, one that held no bearing on the weather, world events, politics, or whether someone will make a good mate or not. What did it matter what color I like? Weren't there far more important things in the world like stock options, crime waves, and world peace?

And yet it was one asked by numerous 'socialites' daughters, scatterbrained models, and narcissistic actresses that I have gone out with over the years. I knew they were always more interested in bedding me or marrying my bank account than actually wanting to get to know me as Bruce Wayne…of course not that I would ever let them know the real me.

Truthfully, I've never really had a favorite color, always seeing the world in shades of black and white. All color left my life when I lost my parents as an eight-year-old boy, seeping out as they drew their final breaths in that dark alley.

My pat response has always been black, the answer provided with a small knowing smirk hidden underneath it. The answer has typically awarded me a playful swat, a roll of the eyes, or an exasperated sigh that always precluded the usual "that's such a depressing color, Bruce".

They didn't understand that my world had been drained of all color, that I lived my life deep in the shadows where neither light nor color could ever truly exist let alone survive. I found that I preferred it there, felt safe…secure, in complete control. I could actually breathe there; find some semblance of purpose and life.

And so it was and had been for a number of years until one fateful day that I never saw coming.

It was a day that I have since come to realize I will never forget, one that drastically changed my life forever and in an incredible way…once I finally allowed myself to actually acknowledge it.

It was the first day that I began to see the world in color again and I saw it in a vibrant shade of red.

It had happened the instant a pair of red dominatrix boots adorning the most gorgeous set of legs I had ever seen gracefully touched down on terra firma for the first time right before my eyes. It was like a bolt of lightning had jolted something inside of me, a shock to my lifeless heart that caused it to start beating again for the first time in nearly thirty years.

Hidden behind the cowl, I had allowed my eyes the luxury of slowly wandering from the toe of those crimson red boots up her sinfully long legs and over the absolute perfection that I would soon be introduced as Diana, Princess of the Amazons.

At the time, I had forced my visage, my voice to remain entirely stoic and all business knowing we had a very large problem on our hands, but it was beyond difficult when you suddenly find yourself standing there before something as amazing as that.

A goddess indeed.

I had never felt anything remotely close in my entire life to what I did in that singular moment and what I felt I don't think even now that I know truly how to describe it. Curious, enchanted, aroused, charmed, suspicious…yes, I was most definitely all of those things and much more though I allowed no one to know or see it.

That was when it had all started for me.

After that, every time I saw the color red I thought of her, those boots that heated my blood like nothing before ever had, and the crimson formfitting bodice of her uniform. It was unnerving to say the least, to be so rattled like this by a woman. I had mastered every single biological response, steeled my mind and built impenetrable walls around my heart, turning myself into the perfect machine.

And now the ultimate war for my heart had all been waged because of a pair of red boots.

Actually that's not entirely true. That was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg because you haven't lived until you've seen the Amazon princess in a red spaghetti strap dress, the hem tauntingly grazing her thighs and allowing a generous view of her sexy legs.

Did I mention she was also wearing a pair of strappy red high heels?

Killed me dead.

A few months ago, I was sitting in the dark of her hotel room in a chair waiting for her to return from her night out on the town in Paris with Princess Audrey of Kasnia, my mind racing with hot jealousy the likes of which I'd never experienced to this degree before.

Images of Diana dancing with God knew who, doing only God knew what was causing me to grind my teeth to the point of nearly cracking them, my gauntleted fingers gripping the arms of the chair so tightly I'm still surprised to this day that I didn't break them.

Every second that passed by without her return was like an eternity, every imaginable situation rolling tauntingly through my mind and winding my gut tighter than a spring set to release. All of the reasons that I had concocted in my mind about why we couldn't date also mingled with those images, reminding me how utterly idiotic I could truly be sometimes.

Just when I thought for certain I was going to crack for sure, she finally walked in, pausing in a shaft of soft morning light filtering through a nearby window to remove those strappy little heels and causing my cowled gaze to follow the path of her fingers down her toned legs as she slipped them off.

I have never wanted to touch something so badly in all my life than in that moment, dying to touch those legs, to slowly run my fingers over that soft Greek skin, to caress and stroke, to kiss and explore at will.

And then she saw me, her hands finding the delicious curve of her hips, the corners of her lips turning upwards in realization as she tilts her head slightly to look at me. She had me right where she wanted me and we both knew it.

I did my best to keep it purely business discussed between respected colleagues, but when you have a breathtaking goddess standing before you in a stunning red dress that accentuates every single magnificent curve it's damn near impossible.

Ignoring the knowing gleam in her bright blue eyes and the quirk of her lips that were red as well, I plunged headlong into the reason for my presence in her hotel room; the reason that I told myself was nothing more than business. It was one that I was sticking to no matter how my body was betraying me, reacting to her appearance at that moment.

That particular mission had ended with Diana revealing the fact that she had deduced my secret identity. Even though I denied knowing what she was talking about, it was at that exact moment that I knew my fate had been sealed and my heart was in terrible danger of never being my own ever again.

It was never more obvious then when I met the Amazon warrior in the training room for one of our sparring sessions a few weeks ago. Dressed in my uniform, I'd removed my utility belt at the sound of the doors swooshing open. She was here.

Ignoring the way my stomach instantly flipped knowing she had arrived, I turned around and nearly swallowed my tongue. Instead of being dressed in her usual star-spangled uniform that I had memorized every single detail of, she was wearing a red sports bra with matching fitted shorts and a pair of tennis shoes.

Oh sh…

"Ready?" she smiled brightly at me, tucking a loose lock of hair back up into her ponytail.

"Where's your uniform?" I'd demanded as if she'd just broken some law akin to murder. My tone was filled with a fierce brusqueness that I immediately regretted, trying to keep my focus on her face and absolutely nothing below her neck.

Diana's brow was furrowed in confusion, disappointment lighting her face as she responded. "It's my day off," she replied with a small frown. "I didn't feel like wearing my uniform since I'm not on duty today."

Sweat instantly broke across my brow beneath my cowl. I had to escape, get away from her before I did something utterly stupid or insane. I'd considered talking her into trying to spar blindfolded or feigning an emergency in Gotham.

_She'd believe that wouldn't she?_ I'd thought to myself.

I silently gulped as she approached me, my pulse racing faster than the Flash could ever hope to move those skinny legs of his. If I survived this sparring session without making an absolute ass of myself, I'd be the luckiest man on planet Earth.

Why do I insist on torturing myself like this? It's borderline sadistic.

Disappointment had lingered in her eyes and I couldn't help but feel desperate to erase it, to replace it with the bright love for life that usually shines there like twin beacons of hope. "Don't you want to spar today?" she asked.

Fighting Bane suddenly seemed so much more preferable to fighting the way my heart and body were reacting to her right now. "Let's go, Princess," I curtly responded, momentarily turning my back to her in order to tamp down on the arousal that was close to strangling me. "Prepare to be taught a lesson."

I turned back towards her to find the smile had returned to her beautiful face and the sadness had been erased and I find my heart soaring knowing I was able to do that for her. When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut and my attention on my duties and not on the Amazon Princess with a penchant for red?

Diana swiftly assumed her fighting stance, her face growing serious. She was all warrior ready for battle and I was a dead man as she lunged at me, a blur of red in the most tormenting shade. I felt my uniform instantly grow tighter, but I ignore it as I feinted to the left only to drop and sweep my leg out, taking hers out from under her.

She landed hard on the mat, nearly knocking the wind out of her, but she was up in less than a heartbeat. She retaliated without a second thought and the battle was definitely on. She ground her teeth, a growl escaping her throat that instantly causes my desire to escalate. This was as close to the primal intimate dance that we would ever come and it both excited and infuriated me because I wanted…needed…so much more.

Despite doing my best to keep my mind focused on the match at hand, I couldn't help risking a glance at the way her chest was heaving with every panting breath, her toned abs taunting and beckoning me to run my hands and mouth over them.

I'd spun on my heel as I moved to grab her from behind. My hand brushed against her firm backside and I cannot contain the tremor of arousal that rippled through me and settled in my groin. My uniform was growing more uncomfortable by the moment and I briefly considered ripping it off.

I silently berated myself for such an asinine idea before flipping her over my shoulder. She landed on her back and I was on top of her before she can even think about getting up. "Point," I panted heavily with a smug triumphant expression as I leaned in a little too close.

Wrong move.

Her chest was rising and falling enticingly beneath me, brushing against the Kevlar on my chest and I was forced to stifle the groan that suddenly stuck in my throat. The thought of creating an anti-Amazon pheromone blocker abruptly flashed through my head, but I forced it back to the recesses of my mind to look into later.

At that point, I had a very sexy Amazon princess dressed in little red workout clothes pinned to the floor beneath me. Her cheeks were a lovely shade of rose red and, considering she has just lost to me, I was positive she could feel my desire for her thrumming through me if the cocky look of victory in her eyes was any indication.

Damn Amazon.

Every fiber of my being was straining towards her, desperate to touch and to kiss, to fondle and devour every square inch of her, but I steeled myself, forcing myself to release my hold on her. I attempted to recall every single mental exercise that I have ever learned in an effort to keep my mind and body focused, but it was useless as we continue to spar until I was finally forced to leave to take a cold shower…alone.

This was always going to be a losing battle, the Dark Knight the prey and Wonder Woman the victor. To the Amazon warrior go the spoils.

I can't say that giving up my heart, my future to Diana would actually be defined as some horrible loss. In fact, I'm beginning to believe that it could be the best thing that could ever happen to me, those idiotic excuses I had created to protect my heart from her long ago sounding utterly foolish even to me now.

And yet, I can't help the fear that continually claws at my heart every time I see her hurt or imagine one of my enemies getting to her because of me. It keeps me steadfast in my belief that we just aren't meant to be no matter how incredible I know it would be together.

And then last week happened.

I went to Diana's quarters on the Watchtower to check on her after hearing about a mission that hadn't ended so well. While the criminals had been captured, some of our League members had sustained injuries, including Diana.

My heart had instantly clenched with fear when I had heard the news, my legs immediately taking me to her regardless of what my mind was fighting to tell me. Finding that she'd already left the infirmary, I had gone straight to her quarters, knocking on her door and hoping against hope that she was alright. Nothing else had mattered to me in that desperate moment.

I had to see it with my own eyes, had to see for myself that she was safe in order to rid my heart of the panic and fear that had seized hold of it. The sudden sound of her voice granting me entrance was like music to my ears and what I saw next was a sensual feast for my eyes.

Diana was sitting on her bed, a white towel wrapped securely around her feminine frame. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, curly locks resting against the tops of her breasts peeking out from the top of the fluffy white terry cloth that surrounded her like a cloud.

And she was painting her toenails…scarlet red.

I paused just inside the door that swooshed closed behind me as I studied her, fighting to gather my thoughts—not to mention make my tongue work in my mouth. Her beautiful lips curved into a sweet smile at the sight of me, her sapphire eyes lighting up like the most brilliant diamonds.

Is it actually possible for a woman to make a heart melt and yet thunder in your chest at the same exact time? Because I'm pretty sure she had just done it in that very moment.

"To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?" She smiled brightly as if I had personally just made her day so much brighter by my very presence alone.

"You paint your toenails?" I find myself asking, stunned by the sexy revelation and causing me to forget my original reason for being there.

Diana's responding laughter tickles my ears and I feel myself falling more in love with her. "Shayera talked me into trying it. I kind of like it. Don't you?"

_No, I don't like it; I absolutely love it. You're the sexiest thing I have ever laid eyes on and I want to rip that towel from your body._

These thoughts and more stormed through my mind at that moment including things that were far too inappropriate to utter to a teammate that you're trying to keep at arm's length when in reality all you want to do is pin her to that bed and have your way with her.

"I heard you were injured," I gruffly replied instead, doing my best to keep my breathing even, knowing that she would notice the slightest variance in it, but it's next to impossible when your heart is trying to beat right out of your chest.

I feel a shiver of desire race up my spine as she stretched out her long legs, the edge of her towel slipping dangerously higher up her thighs and revealing even more to me and yet not as much as I truly want. My breath hitches against my will and I see the corner of her lip quirk even more.

Oh hell.

She tucks a raven lock behind her ear, revealing a long hideous gash on the side of her head near her hairline, the side of her face already an angry shade of purple. My stomach lurches at the sight of her injury and I suddenly find myself more than furious, anxious to hunt down whoever the hell did this to her and rip them to shreds with my bare hands.

"Are you alright?" I finally manage to utter something sensible despite the lustful thoughts racing through my mind or the desert that has occupied my throat since entering her quarters.

"Just a scratch," she replies indifferently with a shrug of a bare shoulder. "Nothing that won't heal in a couple of days or so."

"That is definitely more than a scratch, Princess," I practically hiss, angered by her lack of concern for her own well-being. This is why she ends up in the infirmary all the time, more worried about everyone else instead of worrying about herself.

I growl my response with a little too much annoyance and concern, taking a couple of steps closer to her despite my decision to stay as far away from her as possible. Her scent permeates the room and fills my senses making me lightheaded with a need growing so desperate I can barely stand it. The thought of freeing her luscious body from that towel invades my thoughts despite my best efforts to remain in complete control.

"You should see the other guy," she quips with a smirk and I find myself melting even more.

How someone could be so positively adorable, charming me clear to my toes no matter the situation, is beyond comprehension. Believe me…I've tried. Many times. Even I can't make heads or tails of it.

I've even tried pretending she's like a sister to me, looking at her the way that Kent does, but the lustful thoughts returned with a vengeance, the sexual fantasies that haunt my every dream growing more intense and I begin to think that maybe I should see a psychiatrist.

"You should be in the infirmary," I hear myself utter. The worry in my voice is obvious even to me. Dammit.

"I was there and now I'm here," she tells me nonchalantly, setting the bottle of blood red liquid on her bedside table before leaning back against the mound of pillows on her bed. "I'm fine, Bruce…really."

I stand there for a long moment trying to decide what to do, my heart and body nearly overriding my logical mind that is screaming all the reasons we can't be together. "Call if you need anything," I coolly settle on telling her before abruptly turning on my heel to make a hasty retreat.

Before the doors can close behind me, I hear her lilting voice that is as melodious as a songbird's call, "thanks for stopping by to check on me, Bruce." The smugness in her tone is undeniable.

Damn. I'm so dead.

I mentally kicked myself for the next three days, knowing that I was only digging my own grave for her. She was going to win and I was going to lose and I had never been more elated or conflicted about anything before in my entire life.

Now, it's Friday night and I find myself standing near the bar at a charity function for cancer research, secretly hoping that Diana will be attending and at the same time chiding myself for such futile thoughts for something that can never be.

Frustrated and annoyed that she hasn't shown up yet, I turn towards the bartender to ask for a glass of something strong. I don't typically drink, but I suddenly feel like I could really use one, needing some liquid fortification to survive the rest of this tedious night.

A sudden wave of frantic murmurs and gasps swiftly captures my attention, forcing me to turn back around. That's when I see her and I know it's all over. She has me hook, line, and sinker and I don't even care. Even the fierce argument in my head against a relationship with her that has been plaguing since the day I met her has been quelled by her presence, how positively radiant she looks.

The phrase "fit like a glove" isn't nearly enough to describe the way Diana's strapless red dress hugs her every curve or my pants as a result.A long slit runs the length of her leg, stopping some place far too dangerous to even allow myself to think about, lest I begin to drool like an utter fool.

Red strappy heels adorn her feet; her toes tipped in that scarlet that makes my mind suddenly go numb. She is the only woman who can make me drop a hundred IQ points in the matter of a heartbeat and it never ceases to rattle me every single time.

She catches my eye despite the crowds beginning to swarm around her and I can't help but immediately make my way to her, drawn to her like a powerful magnet that I can't bring myself to fight against any longer. The pull is far too strong, the sexual tension between us growing more intense with every passing day. A smile plays upon her lips and I can tell that she is as happy to see me as I am to see her.

"May I have this dance?" I ask as I offer her my hand, hoping she doesn't notice the slight tremble in it as she takes it.

"I'd love to," she softly agrees, her smile brightening as she allows me to lead her out onto the dance floor.

I release a nervous breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding as I take her into my arms, my hand settling on the small of her back. I'm stunned to find there is no material there. My hand is touching bare skin and my knees instantly weaken with the realization.

Why she insists on doing this to me is beyond understanding, but there's no denying that it's working like a charm. I'm like putty in her hands tonight as I lead her around the dance floor in a slow dance. I can feel all eyes are on us and I can't help the smug smirk that tugs at my lips.

This goddess is in my arms and I'm not about to relinquish her for anything in this world. I may not deserve her, but I'm damn well going to do everything in my power to keep her if she'll have me.

"You look very beautiful tonight," I softly compliment her, drawing her a little closer to me more out of my own desire than the necessity of the dance.

A pink hue suffuses her cheeks and she glows with a radiance lit from within. I find that I want to taste her so badly that I might die if I don't soon. Her ruby red lips are drawing me in and I hesitate in answering their beckoning call only because I know if I start I won't be able to stop. Not even I am that strong.

There will be no going back if I do this, if I admit to her that my heart has been hers ever since I laid eyes on her that fateful day two years ago. Instead of being terrified by the thought, I feel an unexpected sense of peace well inside of me, one that I hadn't felt in more years than I can possibly count.

She leans in close, her warm breath a feather's touch against my ear and I can't help but shiver in response. "You can kiss me, Bruce," she whispers so sensually in my ear, my eyes falling closed as it draws me in and hypnotizes me. "I promise I won't bite."

A soft moan escapes my lips despite my best efforts to contain the fire that she is stimulating deep within me and I can't wait any longer. Stopping in the middle of our dance, I release my hold on her long enough to take her by the hand and lead her out of the ballroom and to an empty side corridor where no one will see us.

Before she can utter another word, I have her pressed up against the wall, my mouth claiming hers with a fierce desire that can no longer be controlled. My fingers slip up into her braided hair as I tilt my head to deepen the kiss, Diana answering my passion with her own.

She readily parts her red lips, allowing me entrance and beseeching for more. I greedily and happily comply, my tongue creating a sensual slide against hers as I drink my fill and then some. Her taste is everything I could have imagined and more. She's like the finest wine, sweet and addicting and leaving me wanting so much more.

I swallow her moan along with one of my own that is rising up in my throat, my hand slipping down her body to find the slit in the dress that has been teasing and taunting me since she first arrived. My fingers lightly graze along the soft skin of her upper thigh and I feel her tremble against me.

Finally forced to retreat for life-preserving air, I pull back to gaze into her sapphire eyes clouded with lust and desire that I'm positive mirror my own at that moment. "I have to go out on patrol tonight," I tell her. "Can you come over when I'm finished?"

Her smile returns even brighter than before and I can't help but be completely dazzled by it. "I'll be there waiting for you when you return."

"You don't mind skipping the charity benefit, do you?" I ask, nuzzling her neck with my nose and mouth.

"Do you really have to ask?" she gasps in a sinfully sexy manner that does nothing to help me stop where this is swiftly heading at the moment.

I pull back to look at her, my own breathing ragged. "Good," I smirk. "The tabloids are going to field day with me being seen leaving the gala with Wonder Woman for at least a year or more."

"Normally, I'd take issue with that, but…," she murmurs as she nips at my earlobe, sucking on it and nearly causing my eyes to roll back in my head. "…I'm willing to overlook it if everything they'll say comes true…"

I swiftly lean in; kissing her with a heated passion that is only a minor taste of what I really feel for her, of what I will be unleashing on her later tonight when I'm finally free to fulfill my every desire and fantasy. My leg shifts in between hers and she gasps sharply as I brush against her center, her fingers digging more firmly into my back as we continue to kiss.

I suddenly think that patrol can wait for one night, Gotham surviving without me, when she unexpectedly pulls away. "Go," she breathlessly says, fighting to catch her breath and her own growing desire. "Gotham needs you now, but I get to have you later."

I groan loudly with her insinuation and yet I can't help but love her even more for allowing me to be who I need to be. That is how I know with complete certainty that this something more than worth pursuing…that she is worth risking my heart for.

"Have I ever told you how much I love to see you in red?" I tell her with a crooked smile, keeping her pinned against the wall with my body, positive she can feel the evidence of my arousal.

"I might have had a feeling," she teases me as she shyly averts her eyes.

So she's known all along. Once again, I have underestimated her abilities. The fact that she had been able to discern my identity so quickly should have been my first clue that the naïve, innocent princess from a magical mythical island isn't exactly all that naïve after all.

My smirk broadens as I brush my lips against hers one last time. "So you do know what you do to me then, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, my Dark Knight," she murmurs softly. "And soon, you'll be able to see just what you do to me as well."

Her flirtatiousness is pushing me closer and closer to the edge of abandoning my patrol tonight, but I know that she will not allow me. A firm hand on my chest gently pushes me away from her. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you can return home."

Drawing a deep breath, I run my fingers back through my hair as I fight to rein in the lust pounding wildly through my veins, the love for her that fuels every single beat of my heart. "I love you, Princess," I find myself saying as I force myself to put a little distance between us.

I utter the words without a second thought and it feels as natural as breathing. I find that I don't regret saying it one bit, the warmth that suddenly illuminates her eyes making it more than worth it even if she doesn't return the heartfelt sentiment just yet.

"I love you too, Bruce," she confesses with a smile that not only lights up my heart, but could also light up the whole world.

My throat constricts with emotion, finally hearing the words that I've been longing to hear for so long now, but had never realized it until that moment. This is what I want; she is what I want more than anything in this world.

I slowly nod my head with a smile, unable to find the words to express just how much she truly means to me. Love just seems so inadequate to describe what I feel for this woman, not nearly powerful enough…meaningful enough. Just as I turn to leave, her voice causes me to stop in my tracks.

"Oh and by the way, Bruce," she says, causing me to turn back towards her. "I can't promise that I won't bite later."

I groan again, my eyes falling closed as I pinch the bridge of my nose. "You're making it damn near impossible to leave you right now, Princess."

"Just a little something to help you move quickly through your patrol tonight," she so innocently teases me.

I stalk back towards her, kissing her long and hard once more before finally releasing her and leaving the building before I can change my mind. This will no doubt be the longest patrol of my entire life tonight...and the shortest.

I race home, removing my black bowtie even as I enter the manor. Alfred is there in less than a heartbeat, ready and willing if I should need anything. A small smirk appears on his lips as I swiftly stalk past him, more than desperate to get to the Batcave and out on patrol so I can return to Diana.

"Did you have a pleasant evening, Master Bruce?"

"Yes," I curtly reply. "I'm going out on patrol. I won't be gone long."

"I take it Miss Diana will be arriving soon as well," Alfred says.

It's more of a statement than a question and it stops me dead in my tracks. "How did you know?"

"I believe it was the particular shade of ruby red lipstick on your lips that was the biggest giveaway, Sir," Alfred responds, his voice full of triumphant glee.

My fingers instantly go to my lips in stunned disbelief, wiping away the evidence of my evening's activities. Seeing the red on the tips of my fingers, I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. Red is most definitely my favorite color.

Ruby…scarlet…crimson…fire engine…fire cracker…cardinal…candy apple…barn…wine

It makes no difference the shade or hue, the kind or how dark it actually is. I most definitely love the color red, but even more than that I am deeply and madly in love with the person that it always reminds me of.

**THE END (?)**


	2. Black

**BIG thanks to my good friend DINASIS for the Beta. Hope you all enjoy Diana's POV.**

**Black**

Black is dark, bleak.

Depressing…soulless.

Foreboding…desolate and frightening.

Black is mysterious and deadly, cold and gloomy.

Enticing? Sexy?

Oh, Hera, most definitely…especially when it's wrapped around a muscular body that has been honed to absolute perfection, hard as steel and skilled in the most unspeakable ways.

I had never considered myself to be so easily enticed or drawn to the night or darkness in general. I had pretty much always lived life in the light – basking in the sun's brilliance on a magical island, taking comfort in the friendships of my dear sisters or bathing in the warmth of my mother's abiding love.

That was what I had always known…at least until the day I first ventured into Man's World and came face to cowl with the man that I would come to know as the Batman.

Vigilante.

Protector of Gotham.

The Great Detective and Caped Crusader.

The Dark Knight.

That's my most favorite title of all. Dark Knight. It describes him best, gives the greatest insight into his heart and soul that he tries so hard to keep hidden beneath the icy brusque exterior. It is a very noble title just like the man behind it, the hero who shuns the light at all cost, recoiling from any sort of attention or adulation, choosing rather to execute his mission in the dark shadows that he immerses himself in.

Dark Knight, indeed.

Aside from the fact that my mother held a good deal of contempt for them, I knew next to nothing about men before coming to Man's World. I believe my mother's exact words were something along the lines of all men being chauvinistic swine and beneath notice.

The only other thing I knew about men was what the nude marble statues of the gods in the temples revealed about their anatomy, their build. Despite what I saw or was told, I had been sheltered living without men my whole life, naïve about a real relationship between a man and woman.

Somehow I just couldn't quite bring myself to share these same feelings of loathing despite my mother's influence or growing up on an island filled with nothing but women who remembered the injustices long dead men committed against them. They had led me to believe that men were evil and were useful for nothing more than procreation, their only desire to try to manipulate women and rule over them as if they were nothing more than animals. I couldn't help feeling that there was so much more than what I had been trained to believe.

I had decided to find out for myself when I had ventured out into Man's World in my mother's armor to help in the battle against the alien invasion, one that mother had all but forbade me to participate in. What I had discovered was something that I would never forget as I first set foot on that cliff that fateful day.

The moment that I had laid eyes on the man known as Batman will forever be seared into my mind. I found myself surrounded by heroes in bright colors – blue, red, green, and yellow. None of them caught my interest or managed to pique my curiosity like the tall imposing figure of the man dressed in black and gray before me.

Who would deliberately hide his face and dress like a creature of the night? Why would a hero built like a real Greek god need to appear so frightening and imposing?

It wasn't that I felt intimidated or frightened by his striking appearance or the way that he was staring so intently at me. In reality, it had been quite the opposite. I had felt an unexpected draw to him, a pull like nothing I had ever experienced before along with a fierce fluttering in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't quite understand.

Maybe it was the granite set of his angular jaw left exposed by his mask that hinted at so much more, the way that his cowl kept his identity as well as his emotions carefully concealed from view, or the dark mystery that shrouded him like the inky cape that he wore.

Or maybe it was the fact that he appeared more dangerous than Hades himself.

All that I knew was that I was completely intrigued by this black-clad man with the cold, detached impression that he purposefully left on those around him. The deep, self-assured tone of his commanding leadership was something akin to mighty Zeus and later, it seemed his presence alone could shift the tides of battle in our favor.

The gravelly, rasping quality to his voice was quite befitting the formidable persona before me, rough like sandpaper and yet smooth as the finest silk. What other amazing things could be hiding beneath that cape and cowl, that Kevlar that protects him?

If we hadn't been in the middle of a deadly fight to save the world, I might have been able to observe even more about him, but unfortunately duty called and the warrior in me took priority over the woman inside that already yearned to slip my fingers beneath the edge of that black cowl and look into the eyes I knew were fixed on me in that moment.

Was he sizing me up? Trying to determine my true motives for being there? Deciding whether he could trust me or if a woman could truly take care of herself in battle?

Though I was loathe to admit it at the time, Batman's intense gaze behind those white slits of his cowl had caused an unexpected shiver to race through me, leaving me feeling more than a little confused and unsettled. No one had ever been able to do that to me.

No one…and it unnerved me that this man had been able to do it in a less than a heartbeat.

The moment was gone in a blink of an eye then as Flash wrapped an arm around my shoulders, calling "dibs" on me. I remember being quite stunned at first by his move and the next wanting to castrate him for having the nerve to even lay a finger on me.

That had been my first experience dealing with the opposite sex and though I'm still trying to learn what certain things in Man's World actually meant, I'd say that it went fairly well. Men weren't at all like my mother had described to me. I had discovered men who were strong and noble warriors, willing to risk their very lives to save others.

I found myself intrigued by what I had found in Man's World—to my mother's great dismay, I'm sure. I was completely taken by the excitement and the energy that surrounded me. There was just so much to learn and to do, so many new things to experience and magnificent places to see.

Above all else, I must admit my greatest new interest came in the form of a superhero that chose to remain close to the shadows and preferred to remain unknown – a myth, a legend, a rumor.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him out of my mind. He began to consume my thoughts and haunt my dreams. I wanted to know everything there was to know about him – who he was and where he lived, what he liked and if he loved someone.

What had caused him to don a mask, dress like a flying rodent, and become so dark, detached, and alone?

Batman is so unlike the other man that has become my best friend. Blue and red and larger than life compared to black and cold and broken. That's what Kal had told me, that Batman was broken. I had asked him what he had meant by that, but he had told me that I'd have to find out on my own.

Kal is like a shining star, the face of the Justice League and in many ways, the polar opposite of the man who had captured my attention since I had first laid eyes on him. Superman is the one everyone flocks to, the Boy Scout whose smile alone exudes warmth and compassion, whose bright blue eyes reflect his pure heart.

The Dark Knight, however, is anything but a Boy Scout and I find him more and more alluring with every passing day. It's growing harder to ignore this attraction that I feel for him and I can't help thinking that he might feel the same way too.

We have flirted here and there, comments made and looks exchanged. It never ceases to stir my blood, either in anger with his arrogant remarks meant to rile me or the heated looks that I swear he is giving me through the white lenses of his cowl.

Things only managed to grow more intense after I discovered that the Dark Knight was none other than Gotham's world-famous billionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne.

Deciding that I needed to get out and have some fun, I had gone to Paris in dire need of a break. It had been overwhelming to say the least, walking into that ballroom only to suddenly be surrounded by people, camera flashes, and idiotic questions. A deep baritone voice asking me to dance and a hand slipping through the crowds to take mine saved me from the confusion.

It wasn't until he had twirled me into his arms to dance that I had finally gotten to see my savior's face. My breath had caught in my throat at the sight of the most handsome man I had ever seen, the most piercing blue eyes staring back at me with such intensity and charisma.

The feel of his arm around me holding me close, his hand holding mine had felt as natural as breathing as we danced and flirted. It felt like I had somehow known this man my whole life, finding a piece of myself that I hadn't known was even missing.

I couldn't have taken my eyes off of him even if I'd wanted to as we moved about the dance floor. He looked positively stunning in his black Armani tux that matched his jet black hair, the playful smirk that danced on his lips warming me clear to my toes with a feeling I couldn't begin to define.

I carefully studied every single flawless detail of his handsome face, his striking blue eyes, the curve of his nose…his defined jaw. His jaw line carried the same strength and arrogance that I had come to know and care about in a certain dark superhero of the night, suddenly making me wonder…could it be?

The man before me was so unlike Gotham's cold surly protector of the night that I knew and considered a friend, though I'm sure he wouldn't have used the term as freely as I do. The man holding me in his arms and dancing with me was so warm and dynamic, charming and flirtatious.

In a word, it was…wonderful.

But then the terrorists had crashed the party in an attempt to kidnap Princess Audrey, completely ruining the romantic moment between us. For that alone I wanted to rip their arms from their bodies and beat them senseless with them.

When Batman appeared in my hotel room early the next morning, I knew that my suspicion had been correct. Though he had later denied being Bruce Wayne, I knew it with every fiber of my being and from then on I knew that my heart would never be mine again.

Bruce Wayne is a larger than life enigma wrapped in Kevlar with a heart and mind so dark and broken that no one would ever dare try to breech the near impenetrable walls that a little boy had erected out of fear to shield himself from suffering any more pain or loss.

He is intriguing in his dichotomy, the duality that lives deep within him. It's as if there are two men occupying the same body, sharing the same dark soul and fractured heart. There are so many fascinating layers to this man that I am growing more and more anxious to peel back, to discover and learn what makes him do what he does, act the way that he acts at times.

But his detached gruff exterior has done nothing to stop me. In fact, it has only fueled my desire for him, made me want him even more. I was more than determined to get through his walls to show him that he could be loved, deserved love more than anyone I had ever met.

Besides my utter fascination with him, there was the incredible unspoken attraction between us that had been there since we first met on that cliff, the desire for him that burned like a flame straight through my veins.

It was definitely hard not to feel the sexual tension that has been steadily building between us like a violent volcano set to blow up at any moment. I swear if I don't get some relief from these lustful thoughts soon I'm going to internally combust.

Even my teammates have been making comments about how the temperature instantly rises whenever Batman and I are in the same room together or how we practically have sex with our eyes. I heard Shayera mutter under her breath once about me needing to jump Batman's bones and just get it over with…whatever that means.

What does the fact that I can barely control my desire to trace his jaw with my tongue, to peel that black Kevlar uniform off of his perfect body like the skin of a fruit and ride him until we both collapse have to do with jumping his bones?

As I now sit at his workstation in my red gown, I can't help noticing Bruce in every single aspect of his beloved Batcave, from the state-of-the-art technology to the careful attention paid to every single detail. It was as meticulous as he was, dark and portentous and capable of handling anything thrown its way.

Clicking a few buttons on the computer before me, I find the last solitaire game I had played still there unfinished and waiting for my return. I fondly remember the last time I had played it as I take a sip of my tea that Alfred had made for me when I had arrived this evening.

I had been waiting here for Bruce to return from patrol that time as well a few months ago, but not quite with the same hopeful expectation of where the night might lead as I had tonight. I had gotten back from a long off-world mission and had wanted to see him even though it would only lead to more flirting and skirting around the sexual tension that I could feel even in my bones.

Playing solitaire had helped pass the time until I'd heard the familiar roar of the Batmobile's powerful engine echoing through the cave. I smiled in excitement as my heart began to race in anticipation of finally being able to see him again after having been gone for nearly two weeks on a diplomatic mission.

I had forced myself to remain still and calm as I heard the door of his car open and close, trying to stifle the tremble of desire that always shot through me when I knew I was going to be seeing him, even though he never ceased to infuriate me as much as he awakened my desire for him.

I waited patiently, sending a silent, desperate plea to Hera that Bruce wouldn't be annoyed at finding me there in his chair in the cave. What I desperately wanted was for him to kiss me senseless, throw me down on the hood of that amazing black car and ravage me until I didn't know my own name, but at that point I would've settled for a growl and a curt nod of acknowledgement from him. That was how much I had missed him.

I waited for him for what felt like an eternity, clicking on one card after another and getting myself so keyed up despite my best efforts not to be. I thought I would burst if I had to go one more moment before being able to lay my eyes on him.

When he still didn't come, I grew curious about what he was really up to back there. Getting up, I silently made my way back to where he kept the car parked, anxious to see him before I crawled right out of my skin.

That was when I spotted him.

Bruce was bent over the engine of his Batmobile, wearing nothing but his black uniform pants and boots, the top of his uniform lying on the floor with his cape, cowl, and gauntlets. My breath hitched as I lustfully ogled—stared at his perfect ass as thoughts very unbecoming of an Amazon Princess rolled through my mind like a pornographic film.

My face instantly flushed as he pulled back and straightened up, a long stick covered in oil in his hand. He turned to face me, a knowing smirk on his lips as he stared back at me.

Damn him to Tartarus.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to say hello?" he asked.

I did my best to keep my expression emotionless and my eyes in their sockets despite the fact that Bruce was standing there in all his bare-chested glory for me to visually feast on, his face and chest streaked with black oil and grease.

Add that image to the memory banks to dwell on later tonight, in the privacy of my quarters.

"What are you doing?" I managed to ask, finally figuring out how to make my mouth work.

"The Batmobile has an oil leak coming from somewhere," he replied as he wiped the stick on a rag. "I'm trying to figure out where it's coming from."

"Oh…um…ok," I muttered, my mind numb with the arousal thrumming through me. "Do you need help?"

That was the most idiotic question I could've possibly asked since I knew absolutely nothing about cars except that they had wheels. So much for being blessed by Athena.

The smirk on his lips only seemed to grow more amused or sexy—I'm not sure which because I was already so turned on that I was ready to throw him down on the hood and ravage him senseless. What was even worse was I think he knew it too.

"I think I can handle it, but thanks anyways," he said. His cockiness seemed only to grow, knowing the kind of affect he was having on me. "How was the mission?"

"Good," I murmured, closing the distance between us against my better judgment. It was then that I suddenly noticed the thin sheen of sweat that highlighted the dips and grooves of his rock hard chest and abs. Hera, help me, but I was dying to lick his body clean in that moment. "I only received two marriage proposals this time."

For a split second, I saw hot jealousy flash through his azure eyes before he turned away from me to put the stick back wherever it belonged before closing the hood. "You're slipping, Princess," he teased with a rarely heard chuckle. "It's usually at least three or four."

"I dealt with more of the female diplomats while Kal handled the males this time," I informed him, my hungry gaze wandering over the muscular planes of his back.

"That never mattered before," he said, his face suddenly growing serious. "I'm glad that you made it home safely."

I could only smile in response as I stared at him, fighting the overwhelming urge to touch him, to run my fingers over the black streaks of oil on his skin that only seemed to make him that much sexier if that was even possible.

He stood there staring at me, refusing to come to my rescue as I practically drooled all over myself. Drawing a deep breath, I finally forced myself to focus on something other than him. "Well, I guess I should go so you can get cleaned up," I told him, secretly hoping that he'd ask me to stay and be his washcloth.

I quickly spun on my heel, cursing in Greek as I made my way to the transporter to enter my code. It was going to be another night spent in the training room, burning off the sexual desire that had gripped my entire body.

And destroyed the training room I did that night. It resulted in a lecture from Bruce the next day about how much it cost to replace those training droids. The bastard knew it was his fault and yet he had the audacity to sit there and lecture me?

I was on the verge of telling him where he could stick those training droids of his when he abruptly turned to leave, pausing long enough to look over his shoulder at me with that damn smirk. "Next time find a better way to release your…stress…Princess."

He was through the door before the chair I had thrown at him crashed into it yet I could hear his chuckle as he walked down the hall.

Everything inside of me wanted to go after him and pin him against the wall, show him exactly what he did to me, but my Amazon pride wouldn't allow me. I decided to keep playing his little game until he was finally mine.

It was soon after this little incident that I finally figured out Bruce was rather fond of red…especially on me. It was after I found him in my hotel room in Paris that I had finally discovered his weakness, the way he kept staring at me while he held the arms of the chair in my hotel room in a death-grip.

It was at that point that I had decided to turn the tables on the handsome vigilante in black Kevlar.

And it had worked like a charm.

Now, I find myself sitting at his workstation again, starting my fifth game of solitaire as I patiently wait for his return. Glancing down at the red dress that I'm still wearing, I wonder if I should've changed into something else. Then again, I'd had a feeling that it wasn't going to be staying on for very long once he returned from patrol.

Once more, I can feel my excitement beginning to thrum through me like an electrical current, anxious for the moment that I will hear the familiar roar of his car's engine that always causes my heart to stutter in my chest.

I release a disheartened breath as I click to start a new game, growing more and more desperate for his arrival. I hate that he makes me feel this way – such a tangled mess of emotions inside instead of the self-controlled warrior that I had been raised to be and yet I cannot deny the complete euphoria that he instills in my heart.

"_I love you, Princess…"_

Those simple yet heartfelt words spoken by him just a few hours ago still echo in my mind and vibrate deep in my soul. They are the words that I had been aching to hear for so very long and soon we will be able to express it in a way that words could never truly encompass.

I am suddenly torn from my thoughts about him as the sound of a powerful engine fills the Batcave alerting me to the fact that my soon-to-be lover has finally returned home to me. My lips instinctively curl into a smile that is both nervous and excited.

Clicking on the game, I save it to play later should that day ever come again. Right now, I'm filled with too many other thoughts and emotions as I stand to my feet and slowly make my way to the back where he parks his beloved car.

Coming around the corner, I am just in time to see him exit the Batmobile, his hands already reaching for his cowl. There is a determined quality to his movement as he tosses the cowl as well as his gauntlets on a nearby crate holding Hera knows what, but it's the least of my worries at that moment.

The intensity in his piercing blue eyes is stronger than I have ever seen it. It is focused solely on me, caressing every inch of my body as he makes his way to me and I can't help the tremble that suddenly rolls through me as he draws near.

"Hi," he rasps softly.

"Hi," I reply, my gaze falling slightly under the intense scrutiny of his gaze.

My smile only grows as he comes to a stop before me, close but not nearly close enough. His chest is rising and falling, his Kevlar smoothly moving over him like a second skin as if a permanent part of him and I find my fingers itching to peel it from his body.

"How was patrol?" I softly ask, wanting him so badly but also wanting to take my time relishing this moment with him.

"Pure torture," he replies, his eyes still hungrily drinking me in and I suddenly realize that he is doing everything he can to hold himself back from taking what he wants.

I'm also confused by his answer, but I barely register it. I'm too busy searching his uniform with my eyes for a way to get to him, to free him and finally touch what I've been wanting for far too long. "Why is that?"

"I couldn't wait to return to you," he confesses.

As if reading my mind, he reaches out and gently takes my hand, helping me find the hidden fasteners in his armor and silently giving me free reign to explore him at will. It is a right…a privilege that he is allowing me and I will treasure this…him; savor for as long as I am allowed to hold this man and his hurting heart that I want to make whole again.

I bite my bottom lip as I slowly release him from the confines of his uniform, slowly raking my teeth across his skin and noting how his breath hitches when I do. Tossing his uniform top aside, I'm free to trace each muscular curve, caress every single scar that speaks of his warrior spirit that is so attractive to me.

He holds his breath as I lean in and begin to explore him, tracing each scar as I murmur an ancient Themysciran prayer of protection in Greek, praying that the gods will always watch over him for me. I feel him shiver as my arms slowly encircle his waist, my hands settling against the warm skin of his back as I continue the prayer.

His breathing is growing ragged as is mine, my mind reeling with what I'm actually doing and with whom. I have dreamed of this for more nights than I can begin to count and now that this is really happening I'm afraid that he'll disappear or I'll wake to find this was just another fantasy.

His fingers tangle in my hair as my lips continue to brush against the numerous scars that mar his chest, my name escaping his lips as a soft breathless plea. I can hear his heart hammering and it urges me on knowing that I'm the one causing such a reaction within him.

His fingers tangled in my hair become possessive of me as he holds me to him. The taste of him on my tongue is better than I had ever imagined and I can hardly wait to have even more of him as I begin to trail kisses along his neck to his jaw that I've been dying to explore every inch of.

Unfortunately, that will have to wait until later, as he suddenly pulls me away from my task to connect his lips with mine. He kisses me hard and yet there is an unmistakable tenderness merged with the heated passion that makes me weak in the knees.

I can't help the moan that rises in my throat as his tongue wars with mine for control, igniting the fire that has been simmering in my belly for him for so long now. His hands slip from my hair as he kisses me senseless to begin the exploration that I've been anxiously anticipating, setting my skin on fire as he roams his hands over my body with expert skill.

Before I know it, I find my back pressed against some metal lockers, his hips pressing hard into mine. My hands find his hair and I wind my fingers around the short locks, hanging on for dear life as his hand seeks out the long, dangerous slit in my dress and begins to caress my thigh.

He finally releases my lips for some much needed air only to tilt his head and immediately begins a tortuous exploration along my throat. I can't help the tremble that ripples through me as his teeth rake across my skin, his tongue like a flame of fire that scorches me somewhere deep inside.

"Bruce…" I gasp his name, tugging on his hair and eliciting a growl that vibrates through me.

"Let's take this upstairs to my bedroom," he breathes heavily, his breath so hot against my skin, before his lips suddenly find a sensitive spot behind my ear that I never knew existed until that very moment.

I press the back of my head against the lockers, a fierce hunger intensifying deep inside that can no longer wait. "Later," I reply. "I want you here…now."

He groans in my ear as his hand snakes even further up my thigh and around my backside. The fact that I'm not wearing any panties suddenly dawns on him and it causes something to suddenly snap inside of him as he begins to unleash a passion on me so hot and intense that it swiftly takes my breath away.

His mouth is suddenly moving over mine, his hand firmly gripping my backside as he fully presses every inch of himself against me. There is such surprising passion and strength in his body, his touch; a heated desire that threatens to sweep me away.

Relinquishing control to this man is far easier than I had imagined it would be as I begin to lose myself in the sweet pleasure he is creating within me. I want him to take me, to show me exactly how he feels about me, what I do to him. I want him to dominate me, to feel every ounce of love that he holds in his heart for me because soon I will be doing the same for him as well.

Before I realize it, I feel my dress begin to fall away from my chest, exposing me to him. I hear him murmur my name through the fog of euphoria gathering in my brain. It's accompanied by the words "beautiful" and "mine" and it causes a shiver to race through me as his mouth swiftly descends on me.

Pleasure shoots like fire through my veins as he pays homage to me, my fingers raking through his hair as I silently pray that he never stops. A Greek curse breathlessly fills the air as his teeth nip at my sensitive skin, loving little bites that will no doubt leave marks on my body and it fills me with such joy knowing I am finally his and he is mine.

Although I have relinquished control for the moment as he tortures me in such a sensual way, I know that we are equals in every way as we give our hearts and bodies to one another. This is a partnership grounded in love and mutual admiration and respect for one another.

That is what love truly is.

And soon, I will be the one dominating him, making him writhe as I show him my love for him and cause him to forget his own name in much the same way he is doing to me now.

Just when I think I can't take any more of his focused attention on my breasts, I suddenly feel fingers caressing me where I want him the most right now. A sharp gasp escapes my throat and I know that I won't last long if he keeps this up.

Not wanting him to be left out, my hands quickly find the waistband of his uniform pants, roughly pushing them past his hips before seeking out what I desire. I happily return the erotic attention that he has been giving me for several long minutes, wanting him to know what I felt for him.

A strangled cry fills my ears as he presses his forehead against the locker beside my head. I can tell that he is fighting desperately to remain in control. It is now I who has taken over as I caress him over and over again, showing him how much I truly love him with my gentle focused attention.

"Diana…" he pants hard, the fingers of his one hand digging almost painfully into my hip as if he's holding on for dear life.

I turn my head and nuzzle his cheek with my nose and lips. His skin is flushed and there is a thin sheen of sweat now covering it. Both hands are now gripping my thighs as he lifts me up to wrap my legs around his waist, his control wavering.

The moment has come for us to finally be one and I find that I am filled with both a desperate need to feel him inside of me as well as a small flutter of nervousness. He is the first man that I have ever given myself to and I hope that he isn't disappointed.

If the way that he feels in my hand is any indication, then I believe I can safely say that he is far from disappointed so far.

Words of love softly spoken between kisses fill my ears as he shifts his hips and slowly presses himself into me. I bite my lip and arch my back as pain rips through me only to gradually subside as he finally fills me full.

We both pause in that moment, relishing the pleasure and absorbing the love for one another that has so fiercely enveloped us, binding us together as one. I press my forehead against his shoulder, fighting back tears that burn behind my eyes – tears of joy and overwhelming love for this man.

He nudges me with his nose and I turn my head to find his lips against mine so gentle and loving as a tear suddenly escapes against my will. He quickly erases it with his lips as he whispers, "My beautiful Diana…my perfect love."

I deepen the kiss in response to his words, too overcome with emotion to speak the words that pervade my heart. I know he feels the words I have left unspoken as he begins to move, slow and steady and deep. I grip his waist even tighter with my legs, not wanting this to ever end.

I break the passionate kiss against my will, the need for air becoming too demanding to ignore. I throw my head back against the locker, gasping and breathlessly chanting his name over and over again. His name mingles with my moans and it seems to turn him on even more as he begins to move faster…harder.

I can't be sure in this moment if it's his name or the sound of my bliss that excites him so much, but I couldn't care less as I move my hips to meet every powerful drive of his own. Unbelievable pleasure spikes through me every time our hips meet and I silently curse him for waiting for so long to let me into his life, but we have each other now and I'm never going to let him go.

His mouth begins another assault on my breast, rough and desperate and frantic. The sounds of our lovemaking along with the scent of our union fills my senses and intensifies the complete rapture that is coursing through me at that moment.

I grip his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his flesh as I hang onto him. He hisses in response and it causes him to thrust even harder. Before I know it, I come with a scream of his name that I fear will shake the manor to its very foundation. He comes soon after me with a few more hard thrusts and we're both soaring, clinging to one another and knowing that we will always be there to catch each other when we fall.

He kisses along my neck and jaw before finding my mouth, a deep, toe-curling kiss that does little to settle the passion still stirring in my bones for this man. I nuzzle his nose with mine, brushing my lips softly against his.

"I think I'm ready to go upstairs now," I murmur, a smile pulling at my lips.

Bruce's lips curl into a smile that I will never forget for as long as live. It's a smile full of such love, contentment, and mischief and I know that this night is far from over with what he has in store for me and I for him.

He leans in and captures my bottom lip, raking his teeth over it before finally letting go. "What were you saying when you started kissing me?" he asks. "I could only pick out a few of the words."

"It's an ancient Themyscirian prayer of protection for those we love," I admit. "It's a plea to the gods to always protect the one we love most."

"I love you, my beautiful Princess," he manages to say, his voice choked with emotions. His eyes are shining brightly as his fingers hook a lock of my hair behind my ear before his hand comes to rest on the side of my face.

"I love you, Bruce," I reply, sealing the pledge with a kiss.

Unlocking my legs from around his waist, he pulls his pants up as I adjust my dress before he takes my hand to lead me upstairs. I feel as though I'm floating on air as I follow him, my gaze hungrily roaming over the black uniform that still adorns the lower half of his Adonic body.

I know those black fitted pants won't survive for much longer. I'm already desperate to get my hands on them, to rip them off him and fulfill my every desire and dream. As I climb the stairs that will take us up into the manor, I can't help but wonder if my red dress will survive this next encounter, knowing how much Bruce loves the color.

Who knew that something as simple as a color could help draw two people together like this?

At least I painted my toes red in anticipation of how this night might end…

**THE END**


End file.
