A/N: Graphic chapter warning. They're old married people. You can skip it.

This is not a new chapter, it's been up on AO3 since 2016. But I think it's appropriate to post it tonight since it takes place during Christmas of 2056. For once I am posting an explicit chapter uncut. These events were a turning point in their relationship, at least from Bruce's perspective. This is how they love, and I refuse to cut it out.

Into Next Week

Timeline: In the middle of Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Bruce helped Diana disembark as their chauffeur dropped them off at the front of Wayne manor. He said, "I've never seen you jealous. It pisses me off, actually. No matter how many women I've been linked to, you just take it all in stride. Until tonight."

She faced him. "I know you don't care for the other women. Your time with Barbara had been borne more out of mutual desperation than any sort of true love. With Selina—you genuinely loved her. She'll always have that part of your life that I could never share."

He shouldn't lie to the demigoddess of truth. So he said honestly, "I did love her, a very long time ago. The are many parts of my life I wouldn't want anyone, no matter who, to share. But the best of my life is all yours, now and forever."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "You are extremely suave, do you know that?"

"Yes, and so do all the tabloids of Gotham." Of course he had to ruin the moment. "Now, let's proceed to the dress ripping and getting you fucked into next week part I promised." He picked her up in a princess carry before she could say or do anything.

As he carried her through the manor doors, he said, "I never did this before, haven't I? Traditionally, the groom carries his bride over the foyer on the first time a newly-married couple enters into their home. I was too weak during our wedding, and then the opportunity just never came up."

"You haven't, but I did this to you several times now," she grinned.

"I'm all in favor of equality."

"I like it." He gave her a questioning look. She clarified, "You carrying me for a change."

Given her hazardous day job, that statement held unfortunate implications. He frowned at her. "I hope the only time I ever have to carry you is when it's a prelude to sex."

"That's what I meant."

He put her down when they reached the master bedroom. She asked, "You're not serious about the dress ripping, are you? This is a Tadashi Shoji original!"

"I think the spilled punch already ruined it."

"I'm sure Kevin can manage to clean it," she replied. "I know you can afford a new one but this is my favorite."

He growled. "Less talking, more undressing." Without further ado he pulled her dress zipper down. "Not serious on the dress ripping. Completely serious about the 'into next week' part." She slid her stilettos off with her feet, then pulled her dress and let it drop to the floor. The punch had soaked through her underwear. He asked, "Shower? Or you don't mind dried punch? I'm okay either way."

"Too cold for a shower. What's a few more sticky fluids into next week?"

He kissed her full on the mouth as she took the rest of her underwear off. She set about to unbuttoning his shirt lapels while he removed his blazer and unceremoniously threw it behind him. Last button off. Really, she could just tear everything off but one did not survive the earth marching in armies without having a sense of practicality ingrained. She tugged at the sleeves and his shirt promptly went the way of his blazer.

At her full height, without heels, the top of her head barely reached above his chin. This meant her lips were level with his collar bone. She angled her head and suckled at the hollow of his throat, earning her a low growl. She let her hands roam his chest, pressing against his sinews. She loved the feel of his skin. Scars and all.

She traced a large scar downwards with her lips, kneeling, then kissed him where the scar ended just above the navel. She slid her hands around his waist and down his back, down and inside his waistband until she could press her fingers on the dimples above his buttocks.

They heard his pants seams rip. "Hold that thought," he said. He went over to her fallen purse and pulled out her lasso. "May I?"

"Yes, please," she answered huskily. If he bound her she could go wild without worry. He guided her so she sat on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her, a dark knight pledging allegiance to his sovereign lady. He wrapped the lasso loosely several times around her left ankle, then tied the ends together into a simple knot. His coal-black eyes locked into her blue ones, and he reverently kissed the inside of her knee.

She suddenly found herself blushing beet-red. She didn't know why—she was an ageless demi-deity sitting on their marriage bed where they had already made love many times, and blushing was such a schoolgirl thing to do. Everything about this man simply made her not act like her three-thousand year old self.

He smirked. "You love me." It was not a question.

"Uhm, duh?" Foot, meet mouth, she chided herself.

Suddenly he could no longer keep his hands off her. He stood up, and with the least number of required movements he kicked off his shoes, took off his pants, underwear and socks, then pounced. She squealed as he hooked his hands under her armpits and pulled her into the middle of the bed with him.

He pushed her down so she was flat on her back. He kissed her mouth, then gently slid his lips onto the pulse point on her neck. He licked, mildly at first. Then he sharply sucked in, causing her to gasp as he marked her with his mouth. The mark would stay while her lasso remained wrapped on her.

He put one hand between her legs. His fingers slid over her so slickly that she must be extremely wet, and she bit her lower lip in embarrassment at the evidence of how much her body desired him. What he could make her do just by existing. She grabbed at his shoulders and he thrust two fingers inside. She gasped, and her nails dug into his skin. In retaliation he pushed his fingers deeper, crossed them and twisted .

She howled. Her legs curled involuntarily and she raked her fingers across his back.

It felt good, sex without her powers. To be able to seize at him without having to restrain herself. He was strong, very strong, but only to human limits and nowhere near her metahuman levels. But with her own strength bound, she could clutch and grab and squeeze with no fear of accidentally breaking him.

He finally stopped when he got the inkling that she was about to faint.

As she attempted to regain her ability to breathe, he rolled her over so she faced down on the mattress with her legs bent underneath her torso. Oh, she knew where this was going, and she liked it.

He pushed, and she welcomed him, the pleasant, breaking tightness as he stretched her open. The sound of his breathless groan seemed to heighten her senses. He bent forward so his arms could go around her ribs, and she pushed back at him, meeting him stroke for stroke. He managed to reach inside her so deeply, she didn't believe it was possible.

His thrusts changed rhythm, again she didn't believe it possible, but he somehow managed to reach in even deeper. Maybe not deeper, but he was hitting something, and it felt incredible. He slid one hand down to massage her clit, and then she ceased to think at all. She screamed, her spine bent back and her internal muscles clenched so tightly she felt the ripples all the way to her arms and toes. He wasn't done, but he didn't last much longer. After several more thrusts his grip around her tightened and she felt him spill into her.

With a groan, and without releasing her, he rolled both of them to lay on their sides. His breath was warm on her neck.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "Sometimes I still have trouble reconciling with the fact you're here with me."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Instead she pulled at his arms so they wrapped around her more securely. He kept nibbling on her shoulder. She thought it sweet of him, and she wasn't complaining, but she found it rather unusual.

"It's pretty good," he said offhand.

"What is?"

"The punch. You got some on your shoulder here. I should get their caterer."

"Bruce!"

"Of course you taste better."

Bruce woke up a couple of hours later as his wife stirred against him. She must have sensed the change in his breathing. He found himself staring into wide-awake twin sapphires.

"Don't make me remove the lasso," she whispered, pleading. She pushed at him gently. He let her move him until he was lying on his back. She sat on his thighs, her knees straddling him, and used both hands to coax his arousal. To his surprise, it didn't take him long.

She repositioned and slid him inside her without further preamble, and he sucked in his breath through gritted teeth. She was pure heat. As she began to move up and down, building up their rhythm, she threatened, "This thing, this beautiful thing of yours from now on goes inside me and noone else's."

"Yes," he croaked as he thrust upward to meet each tortuous grind of her hips. "There's no comparison. There never has been." He reached to cup her face. He slid his hands to her nape, fingers twining into her dark tresses. He tugged at her, pulling her face down so he could claim her mouth. He made her swallow his tongue and his groans in time with each push below.

She was so tight, yet so soft. He could literally feel how much she wanted him—at how her body always instinctively curved towards his own, the way her silken flesh quivered every time it embraced him—and she was unaware she did it. She wanted him, clearly, and almost to the point of desperation. He had never felt it with any past lover. How could this immaculate, untouchable creature of light want him so much, that she would debase herself without thought to meet him as an equal in the darkest depths of the night where he belonged? And he had proof that she would do it only for him and him alone. Mine, his thoughts screamed, and it made him reach his edge much faster. He wasn't going to last. But she hadn't finished, no telltale glow, and he'd be damned if he came before he could make her do so.

He moved one of his hands to the small of her back, pushing her slightly downward to change their angle. He cursed into her mouth as he realized it had made him slide deeper into her heat, forcing him that much closer to his end. His thrusts became erratic. Her body shivered and she moaned, but didn't break their kiss. By sheer force of will he held on. He moved the hand on her back lower, until he could slide his fingers between her ass cheeks. He was so close. He found the puckered bump of skin he was searching for, and caressed it none too gently.

The glow came, her entire body seized up and she squeezed instinctively, and he was done. He made an unearthly sound and he clutched her hard. He released his seed into her womb in an intense wave of pleasure, his legs shaking uncontrollably with a final upward push.

The kiss broke. She exhaled, a breath she didn't even know she held, then fell upon him. She stirred and tried to roll off, but he held her in place. Keeping their bodies connected even as the throes of lovemaking faded away. "Stay, just like this," he commanded.

They stayed together until the morning sunlight streamed through the eastern windows. He didn't know it then, but this would be the last time they would make love in a very long while.