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Date Posted: 21:36:37 10/29/04 Fri
Author: Slally
Subject: "Blood Seduction" - Chapter 61 (**** NC-17 ****)
In reply to: Slally 's message, ""Blood Seduction" - Chapter 61 (**** NC-17 ****)" on 21:35:30 10/29/04 Fri

Devian knew that he was in for it. Sara lifted her head from his shoulder to stare down at him. She grinned evilly. The passionate glaze that had dulled her verdant gaze had been replaced by a cool, measuring glint in her sparkling eyes. He swallowed hard and tried a sweet smile. She wasn’t fooled. Sara immediately saw it for what it was – an attempt to distract her – and her grin grew a touch more predatory. She stretched her fingers out to get a better grip on him. The clone was still almost fully erect. It occurred to her again that he was quite a handful. She loosened her hand and slowly dragged the pads of her arched fingers up and down the length of him, from the sac at his base up to the plum-sized head where shining drops of pre-cum now sparkled in the fey moonlight. Dev sucked in a sharp breath and she glanced up to see that his head was thrown back, eyes shut. The look on her face had been one of intense concentration as she stroked him. Now, the taut lines around her mouth relaxed in a smile as she observed the effect that she was having on him. She stifled a chuckle, not wanting to alert the adversarial side of his nature. “Piece of cake,” she thought. Unlike the clone, Sara had no aversion to gloating.

Sara raised up on her elbow, pushing back from him a bit to give herself more room to work. When her grip on him had shifted, Dev had lowered his head to watch her warily, waiting to see what she was going to do next. She was still just running the tips of her fingers lightly back and forth along the substantial length of him. The sensation was definitely pleasant but it was nothing that strained his self-control. He began to breathe a bit more easily. That, of course, was a mistake. It was exactly what she had been waiting for. As soon as she saw his breathing even out and the muscles in his long body relax, she struck. Simultaneously, Sara tightened her fingers around him, suddenly stroking hard and fast, and dipped her head like a striking snake to capture his right nipple between her sharp teeth. The double dose of keen sensation almost undid him. If he hadn’t been prepared, expecting her to pull something like this, she might have won her side of their bet right there. Even so, it took a tremendous exertion of will for him to hold it together. He turned his face into the pillow so that she wouldn’t hear how ragged his breathing had become or see the look of raw need on his face. His knuckles whitened as he grasped the sheet so hard that it started to tear. Dev wasn’t even aware that his hips were arching up off the mattress to push his body closer to her caress.

She sucked hard on his nipple and the clone’s muscular torso jerked as a wave of pure, erotic heat rolled over him like an earthmover. Her name was torn from him in a strangled whisper and Dev bit down on his lip hard. Sara lifted her head, her eyes gleaming as she hovered over him. Sensing her regard, Devian turned his face from where it had been jammed into the pillow. He watched her watching him as her hand kept up its steady rhythm. “What?” he asked hoarsely, “That wasn’t a sound of passion. I’m allowed to talk and breathe. Right? Weren’t those the rules?” Sara smiled, sensing that he was fraying substantially around the edges. “I didn’t say a thing,” she pointed out. She squeezed harder. He dragged in another deep breath, his head arching back into the pillow, neck muscles straining. His hips lifted again and he rolled from his side to lay flat on his back. Dev realized that his ability to think rationally was deserting him. His mind had stopped forming thoughts to just throw vivid, splashes of brilliant color against the back of his eyelids as his nerve endings sizzled with desire. He was edging into the territory where the distinction between pleasure and pain was blurred, where he wanted her so badly that it hurt. “Take me,” he whispered, voice soft and husky, “Take me now.” His face was back in the pillow and she barely heard him. Sara kept her response bland. “Not yet,” she told him. His intake of breath stopped just short of a moan. “When?” he asked tensely. She pressed her mouth against his sweaty shoulder and muscles jumped under her lips. “Soon,” she responded soothingly.

Hearing the desperation in his whispered entreaty of, “Please, please,” Sara knew that it was time to strike. He felt her shift on the bed and, as he was lifting his head to see what she was doing, she engulfed him with her mouth. The sensation was so overwhelming that it was the sheer intensity of the feeling that saved him. Devian fell back to the mattress, his eyes rolling up in his head. His senses went into overload and the darkness swallowed him up like the tide of a wild, primal sea that tossed him about in its undertow. For several seconds, the clone was utterly oblivious to everything but the hot, slippery slide of her mouth around him. When he regained enough coherence to make his body, including his voice, respond to his own will rather than hers, he was coming hard in a sharp, scalding flood that also offered him release. After a few minutes, the last of the orgasmic spasms were finally past. Dev was utterly limp and spent. He was panting weakly and every muscle on his body was quivering. Throughout the entire shattering climax, he hadn’t made a sound as they had defined it in their bet – mostly through the grace of pure, sloppy luck. Sitting upright again beside him, Sara made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

When he had enough breath to manage it, Devian let out a soft, throaty chuckle. “Don’t worry. You aren’t losing your touch,” he rasped, “That was no tribute to my will of steel. Your ability to turn my libido into a pretzel hasn’t failed you. It was just dumb luck.” Sara idly reached out to push back a light-streaked curl that had tumbled across his forehead and found that it was soaked with sweat. He stretched like a big cat and, now that it was safe, loosed a long, purring moan as taut muscles all over his body protested. Sara tilted her head and murmured, “Now, you do it.” He laughed and pushed up on his arm to lean forward and press his lips lightly to hers. “I passed out,” he admitted, “For a few seconds, everything went away. My reaction to what you were doing was so intense that I completely lost it. And, then, just as I came back to myself, I came for real. It took me by surprise. Like I said, dumb luck.” She frowned. “Does that count?” she asked. He grinned and brushed her cheek fondly with his knuckle. “Of course it counts,” he said, “Why wouldn’t it?” Sara pouted. “It doesn’t seem fair,” she protested. He shrugged. “Probably not,” he agreed, “But I’ll take it anyway.”

Sara was still pouting, annoyed that the clone had won the bet by default. Devian sighed and pulled himself upright in the bed until his back rested against the headboard. He folded his arms across his chest and studied his annoyed lover with a raised brow. Finally, he reached out to take her hands in his. She suffered his touch grudgingly. Dev brought her reluctant hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of each. He angled his head until he caught and held her gaze. “It doesn’t matter, Sara,” he said quietly, “I would give you what you asked for anyway. Don’t you know that?” She frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked, tugging her hands free of his grasp. He sighed again and dropped his head back against the headboard, shutting his eyes. His hands fell to the mattress to rest on either side of him. “If it ever becomes clear that you no longer want me,” he whispered, “Then, I’ll go just the way you want me to. How did you put it? No guilt, no regrets, no drama. When have I ever done anything other than what you wanted me to do?” She thought about that for a moment or two. In the end, she had to acknowledge the truth of his statement. Granted, he had created a difficult situation when he had dashed out of the safe house after her confrontation with Vicki; but he hadn’t done it to control her or cause her distress. It was more the impulse of a wounded animal to crawl off somewhere alone to hide his pain. Whenever she had rejected him in the past, the only one that the clone had punished was himself.

Sara perked up, smiling again. “So I win anyway?” she asked. Devian made a rude sound and countered, “When has it ever been different between us? But that doesn’t mean that I won’t collect my date. I won that fair and square, and you owe it to me. Beyond that, you might just try to keep an open mind about the new relationship we’re about to begin. See me the same way that you see Ian – as a man, not a freak.” Sara stiffened and turned her head away from him. “I do see you as a man, Sparky,” she mumbled. Dev’s deep sigh made her swing her head back around and ask, “What?” He shook his head. In the fey light, his wide eyes were sad, glowing dark amber. “If you won’t admit your prejudices to yourself, Sara,” he challenged, “Then you’ve fucked me again already without even letting me inside you.” She tried to boldly meet the accusation in his mesmerizing gaze and found that she couldn’t do it. She lowered her head and cleared her throat as she desperately searched for another topic to deflect him from these uncomfortable ideas that he apparently had fixed in his head. Sara could feel the weight of those luminous, golden eyes on her and she began to panic as her mind stayed blank. She was saved by the sound of a soft knock on the door. Both of them turned to look at the tall man who stood in the doorway. He was just a shadow, backlit by the light in the hall.

“Can I join you?” Ian asked. A long breath escaped Sara in a deep sigh of relief. “Sure,” she agreed, smiling, “We’ve been waiting for you, baby.” She heard Dev sigh again too; quick, sharp, frustrated. She turned to glance at him and found that he had dropped his head. Ian hadn’t moved from the doorway. “Dev?” he asked. The clone lifted his head, eyes wide and startled. There was a moment’s silence before Dev realized that Ian was also asking his permission to join them. The clone shook his head, amused. A small, dry smile curved his sensuous lips. “Only Ian…,” he thought. Aloud, he replied, “Sure, of course. This is your bed and Sara is your lover. I’m the interloper here.” Even in the dim light, the clone could see Ian frown briefly before his face cleared again. “Then I’ll welcome you to our bed, brother,” he said, attempting to smooth out the tension he felt in the air. Ian stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him, and glided over to the big, rumpled bed. It suddenly occurred to Sara that the scent of sex must be strong in the still air of the room and she pushed a hand nervously through her tangled, honey-brown mane. Ian sat on the bed beside her. He looked from one of them to the other. “While I waited down at the kitchen table,” he murmured, “I could feel you together. You were…close. The last thing I expected to be doing right now was acting as referee again. What’s up with you two?”

Sara fidgeted, wringing the sheet where she held it against her chest. Before she could say a word, Dev interjected, “It’s my fault. I brought up an awkward subject when I should have kept my mouth shut. I pissed her off…again.” He tilted his head and gave her that shit-kicking grin, adding, “It’s what I do best; the one area where I truly excel.” His whole attitude was so self-deprecating, his delivery so droll, that her discomfort and annoyance evaporated. She grinned back at him. “It’s always good to have a specialty,” she observed. Ian made a soft sound and Dev turned to meet his eyes. “From what I heard and felt,” he observed, “There is apparently at least one other area where you must have considerable ability.” Devian laughed and blushed a little, charmingly. “We had a wager,” he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed, “I won a date.” One of Ian’s dark, arched brows lifted. “Really?” he mused; then turned to study Sara. “And what did you lose?” he asked her. Sara ducked her head and replied, “My control.” The clone’s tawny eyes widened. He didn’t think that she would admit it; the unexpected confession sent a quick, sharp thrill through him. He had figured that she would twist it in her head until she convinced herself that he had won by somehow taking advantage of her.

Ian’s golden eyes sparkled with mirth as he asked Sara, “Do I get the chance to try to win a date too?” Before she could reply, Devian shifted impatiently on the bed. He frowned, dragging the sheet across his exposed lap, while his full lips narrowed into a thin, tight slash. Ian’s eyes shifted to study his double. The clone could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air. He answered it. “Why the hell would you have to bargain for a date with Sara?” he asked, “She’s yours. You can be with her whenever you like. She wants to be with you.” Dev’s envy was palpable. Ian’s first reaction was very male and instinctively territorial. If he had held on to that initial gut feeling long enough to articulate it, it would have translated to something like, “Damn straight and don’t you forget it.” However, that half-preening, half-aggressive response was immediately drowned in a vivid flood of memories; some were visual, others were auditory – all of them were visceral. In his mind’s eye, Ian saw Sara studying him with repulsion in her fiery, green gaze. The look in her eyes, the regard that grew to be so familiar to him was a mixture of contempt, revulsion, anger, and confusion – a heady brew, stirred with just the slightest touch of fear. The words that accompanied that expression were still caught in his mind as well, preserved like a mosquito in amber: “freak,” “psycho,” “lapdog,” “assassin,” “boy-toy,” “killer.” He could actually even hear her voice, dripping with venom. Ian’s held breath escaped him in a ragged sigh as his luminous eyes focused again on his clone.

“I understand you better than you think, Dev,” Ian murmured, “I remember the pain, the emptiness, the frustration very well.” The clone subtly moved from envy right to thinly-veiled aggression. Devian’s long body tensed as if he were preparing to spring. Watching the two men warily, Sara could clearly see the differences between them. Ian seemed heavier, more solid than his clone who had become increasingly slender and wiry over time. Where Ian was like a tiger – massive and majestically lethal; Dev was like a cheetah – lithe and streamlined, built for speed. Sara wondered if she was going to have to come between her two lovers to keep the peace. She worried that a confrontation might be immanent. If Ian was feeling threatened, however, he didn’t show it. She watched him smile genially at the other man. “You think I’m being condescending, don’t you?” he asked the clone. The expression in Devian’s golden eyes was sharp and sparkling, like the hard edge of a coin. Although he still lounged back against the headboard, the lines of his body had gone rigid, taut. His only answer to Ian was the slightest hitch of one shoulder in a shrug that managed to convey insolent indifference. The impression the gesture left was: “Think what you like. I don’t really give a fuck.” Ian turned back toward Sara and took her right hand in both of his. Head down, he held it lightly for a moment before stretching out two long fingers to slowly stroke the deep red stone in the center of the Witchblade.

Keeping her hand wedged between his, Ian lifted his head again to fix Devian with a piercing gaze. “Less than six months ago, Sara could barely stand to be in the same room with me,” he said, “She gave every indication of finding me not just unpleasant, but downright repulsive. When my master ordered me to become her lover, I believed that he was dreaming; that it would be impossible to accomplish such a goal. I believed that I was doomed to fail because in her eyes, I was then and would ever be a freak.” Sara’s eyes had gone wide and bright. Ian’s last statement had galvanized her. “Irons ordered you to become my lover?” she repeated softly. He turned his head to meet her gaze directly. There was a long pause while they simply looked at each other; then, Ian nodded. Sara carefully removed her hand from his strong grip. “So, where was the line drawn, Ian?” she asked, “Where did his will cease and yours begin? When did you stop following his orders – or did you?” Ian sighed softly and, rather than answering Sara immediately, he turned back toward the clone, who was watching their exchange with avid interest. “Do you see, Dev? Do you understand?” Ian asked his replica, “Even now, even after all that Sara and I have become to each other, the doubt is still there; waiting just below the surface.” The clone frowned, tilting his head to study Sara. “Yes,” he acknowledged, his voice barely audible, “I see.”

Ian nodded again. Then, he turned back toward Sara, giving her his full attention. “What Mr. Irons gave me when he ordered me to become your lover was permission to follow my heart,” he said mildly, “Even when you treated me like something on the bottom of your shoe, Sara, you knew how I felt about you. You knew that I loved you. You knew that I would die for you. How can you for even one second believe that I became your lover for any reason other than that I loved you and wanted you; then and now. How could you doubt that for even one second?” Sara dropped her head, drawing in a long, ragged breath. She stayed still for several moments before she began shaking her head almost convulsively. Face still lowered, she wrung her hands and expelled an explosive breath that ended in a sound that was almost a sob. When she finally raised her head to look at Ian, her emerald eyes were bright with tears. “I don’t doubt you, Ian,” she cried, “I don’t. I swear it. It’s Irons. Even dead, the bastard can come between us if we let him.” Sara caught a quick look that passed between the two men, a glance that was ripe with male complicity and that instantly made her bristle. Her lips compressed and she went quiet. But Ian wasn’t done, there was more that he wanted to know.

“What changed your perception of me, Sara?” Ian asked, “What changed the way that you saw me so that love became a possibility?” She could sense that Dev was hanging on every word now that he saw where Ian was guiding the conversation. She was starting to feel manipulated and had decided that she was not going to be a pawn in whatever game Ian was playing; if that decision was born out of sheer stubbornness, it was as good a reason as any. She shrugged, a sullen expression playing across her lovely features. Then, she found that her own curiosity was snagged by the question that he had posed. Recollections flitted through her brain like the play of light and shadow at twilight. Her hand poised by her gun, she saw herself tell Ian when he invaded her old loft, “No jury in the world would convict me if I blew your head off.” At the Precinct, Ian moved near her to murmur, “If you want to stay close to me, just ask. Sara. We can be inseparable.” She saw herself turn away and in a harsh whisper respond, “Freak.” On the field of an empty stadium, she watched herself step between Jake and Ian. When the man who was now her lover told her, “My life is yours for the taking,” her lip curled as she dismissed his pledge as the ranting of a “psycho crazy Galahad.” Those memories, viewed now against the passion, the deep love that she felt for the man, were both disturbing and painful.

She absently pushed a hand through her tangled locks as she considered Ian’s question. When had she first begun to see him in a different light? It was after the fire. With a faraway look in her eyes, Sara mused, “I don’t know. After the fire, I felt so vulnerable, so exposed. I needed a refuge where I could have my own space again. You gave that to me.” Ian’s eyes narrowed as he thought that Kenneth Irons had anticipated Sara’s reaction with wily insight and cunning. “And then,” she continued, “You were always there, always helping. I came to rely on you. I grew to see you as an ally rather than as an enemy.” Ian studied her, his golden eyes amused as he remembered Sara’s seduction of him in the hot tub. “An ally?” he repeated, voice like crushed velvet. Courtesy of the strong connection that the three of them shared, some of the images flashing through their minds were passed along to Devian. Fascinated, he watched the exchange between his brother and his lover as his agile brain supplied missing pieces to put the puzzle together. Sara’s face flushed endearingly as she too recalled coming upon Ian sleeping naked in the big tub. She had certainly seen him as more than an “ally” that night. At some point before that fateful evening, she had begun to wonder what he tasted like; how he would feel inside her; what that incredible body would be like pressed skin to skin along hers. Sometime before that night, she had already begun to imagine him as her lover.

Sara cleared her throat and amended, “More than an ally, I guess.” Ian’s smile was dazzling. “Mmmhmm, I guess,” he responded easily. His mild challenge defused any residual anger she was still nursing. She couldn’t resist that gorgeous smile. Her own smile answered it. “Okay, okay,” she acknowledged, “So, once we started spending time together doing normal things, you seemed like a regular guy – except more so.” His golden eyes danced like low flickering flames. Her response made Ian grin full out. He had to ask. “More so?” he wondered. The color in her flushed cheeks deepened. Her eyes dropped and she waved a hand, mumbling, “You know what I mean, Nottingham; you’re stronger, faster, smarter, prettier. More, more of everything.” Dev cleared his throat and spoke for the first time in quite a while. “Wow,” he observed laconically. Sara frowned, turning to look at the clone. “Wow?” she questioned dryly. He grinned back at her, cocky as hell. “Well,” Dev pointed out, “I was designed to improve on Ian. So, if you see him as…” He stopped, pausing dramatically for effect, “More! What does that make me?” Sara uttered a rude sound, but the tone of her reply was amused. “What it makes you is a pain in the ass,” she answered, adding, “Sparky.”

Devian lifted a single dark, arched brow. “Apparently, I need to set a fire,” he observed sarcastically. Unable to help herself, Sara laughed. “Don’t try it, pal,” she shot back, “I’m older and wiser. I let Kenneth Irons play me. I won’t be so trusting again.” The clone tilted his head to study her. “The old man never pulled my strings,” he pointed out, “My motives were always my own.” Sara gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement, conceding that he had indeed always been his own man. His tawny eyes smoldered, as he added with a low purr, “And there are all kinds of fires, Wielder.” His barely veiled sexual allusion caused a familiar flutter low in her belly. Watching her, Ian recognized the implications of her heavy eyes and parted lips. He decided that the moment had come to steer them in another direction. “After the fire, you were at a crossroads in your life,” Ian suggested, “You were suddenly open to new possibilities.” At the sound of his voice, they had both turned to face him again, giving him their full attention. She gave another quick nod. “I can see that,” she agreed warily. He reached out to gently push back a tumbled lock of her thick hair. “I think that you’re at another crossroads now,” he declared. His attention shifted to Devian, and identical golden eyes met and locked. “I think we all are,” he added. The clone’s only response to that observation was slightly widened eyes. Sara was, as usual, more vocal. “Why is that?” she asked.

Ian shrugged, lounging back on the bed. The arrangement of his muscular body was blatantly suggestive. “Lots of things,” he drawled, “Our living circumstances are about to change drastically. And, of course, the babies are coming. Once they’re born, nothing will ever be the same again. Even now, this connection between the three of us has altered our lives irrevocably. Its effects are impossible to ignore.” Unconsciously responding to his unspoken invitation, Sara relaxed to lean back against the headboard. When her bare shoulder accidentally brushed Devian’s, she jerked upright again as if she had been scorched. Ian shook his head, making a tsk-tsking sound. Now sitting as if a broom had been rammed up her butt, she crossed her arms over her chest and pulled the sheet up higher, tightly holding it in place. “What?” she asked indignantly. Ian smiled at her indulgently. “You’re being ridiculous, love,” he pointed out, “To shy away from a casual touch when you’ve spent the last couple of hours crawling intimately over far more erotic portions of his anatomy.” Her face flamed and her eyes looked anywhere except at either of the two men now watching her. “Jeez, Ian,” she sputtered, “Do you have to be so blunt?” The clone laughed. She glared at him furiously; the knowing look on his handsome face only added more fuel to her fire. “You’re a fucking hypocrite,” he accused her good naturedly. She wanted to punch him in his beautiful, mocking face. “Yeah?” she countered childishly, “Well, you’re a boil on the face of nature. So what?” Dev laughed harder. “Ow, that hurt,” he protested, hand over his heart, “Sticks and stones, Wielder. Come here and give us a kiss.”

Devian stretched out his hand, trying to catch her arm so that he could pull her closer. She slapped his hand away. “Are you nuts?” she asked, “Try that again and I’ll wear your balls for earrings!” He winced. “Now isn’t that a vivid image,” he mused, adding, “Come on, Sara. You know you want me. I can smell your arousal from here.” Her eyes narrowed, flashing green sparks. “Figures,” she hissed, “I always knew you were an animal.” He grinned, not even a little bit intimidated. “We’re all animals, baby,” he replied, highly amused, “Come on and get bestial with me here in the jungle.” Ian’s warm hand sliding slowly up her back made Sara jump. Before she could turn her head to ask him what he was doing, she realized that he was gently, but firmly pushing her forward toward Dev’s recumbent body. The clone, who had been watching his brother carefully, shifted on the bed. Divining Ian’s intention, he began arranging his long, hard body artfully to take Sara’s weight. Feeling a decidedly primal quiver, she asked in a quavering voice, “What the hell are you doing?” Continuing to nudge her in the direction of the waiting clone, Ian whispered soothingly, “Hush, love. Don’t fuss.” Not really understanding why she was letting him manipulate her this way, not trying to interpret the clutch of giddy anticipation low in her gut, Sara grudgingly let him position her on top of his reclining double.

“Bend your legs,” Ian directed his brother. Without the slightest hesitation, Devian did as he was told. Draped on top of him, she and the clone were face to face. Sara stared down into his wide, jungle-cat eyes and wondered if she looked as shell-shocked as he did. She could hear Dev breathing now as his excitement increased; a condition that was also reflected in the hot, hard firmness she now felt pressing insistently against her belly. She sighed, shifting a little against him. The clone sucked in a sharp breath, emitting a tiny moan, and closed his eyes. Wary, she started to pull back but immediately felt Ian’s warm palm on her back again. “No,” he instructed her quickly, “Don’t move. Can you bring up your legs and bend your knees over his?” Absurdly, the picture flashed through her mind of a maestro conducting a symphony orchestra. She envisioned Ian in a tuxedo, holding a baton, poised to bring in the string section. She gave her head a rough shake to clear it and asked, “What?” Ian sighed. “Come on, Sara. Work with me here,” he entreated, “You heard me. Can you do it?” She gasped as she felt a sharp, arousing tug at the sensitive skin by the base of her neck. She swung her head back around to find that Devian had bitten her. Shocked, she was staring down into those tawny bedroom eyes when his long fingers found her. She was unprepared for the sweet, biting pleasure that abruptly assaulted her when the clone’s clever fingers began to work their magic.

“Oh, Lord,” she moaned. Ian didn’t have to repeat himself. Bracing herself with her arms, Sara drew her legs high, draping them over Devian’s bent knees. She gasped when the light dusting of hair on his muscled thighs rubbed erotically against the sensitive underside of her legs. As her body lifted, Dev had more room to work and he moved his hand lower. Two long, stiff fingers pushed deep inside her while the rough pad of his thumb circled her clit. She felt the bed shift and, even as distracted as she was, she turned her head to look because she was afraid that Ian was leaving. She need not have worried. The maestro was only getting ready to bring his own instrument into the symphony. Ian had stood up to shuck off his pajama pants. When he did, she realized that there might be more than a bit of the voyeur in Ian Nottingham. He was more than ready to join the action. His expressive eyes had darkened to smoky, glittering amber and he was quite spectacularly erect. Her attention swung back to the man beneath her when the muscles low in her belly clenched as she felt the inexorable tug of an impending orgasm. When their eyes met, his sensuous lips twitched and he pinched her swollen clit hard between his thumb and forefinger. That was all that it took. With a keening cry, she climaxed, falling forward to drape herself across his chest. While she was there recovering, her breath coming in ragged, gasping pants, she sucked his right nipple between her teeth and bit down.

Devian cried out at the unexpected sharp combination of pleasure and pain. Sara dimly realized that she might have been a bit overzealous as the salty tang of his blood filled her mouth. She lifted her head, an apology at the ready, only to find his smoldering golden eyes fixed on her with unmistakable adoration; not even a hint of recrimination was visible in his heated gaze. As the thought had occurred to her that Ian might harbor a closet voyeur, now she wondered whether there might not be more than a touch of the masochist in Devian. That fevered musing was driven from her mind when she felt a presence behind her. Even without turning around, she sensed Ian ranged against the length of her; the sheer heat of him radiated along the naked skin of her back like someone had opened the door of a furnace. “That or all the fires of hell,” she thought, considering the tableau they must now present. Sara started to lift herself off of the clone, who immediately protested, “No,” lifting his arm to stop her. She didn’t get far, however, because Ian’s solid weight suddenly pressed her back down on the man beneath her. Sara managed to turn her head slightly to ask Ian, “What are you doing?” She didn’t have enough mobility to get a clear view of him; he was too close behind her. She felt his hot breath against the back of her ear. It made her shiver. “Joining the party,” Ian whispered.

Ian’s long-fingered artist’s hands slipped around her body to warmly cup her sensitive breasts. The nipples were swollen from her pregnancy and the slightest touch of his callused fingers made her gasp and arch her back. His right hand suddenly disappeared again and Sara groaned, “Don’t stop. Put your hand back.” There was another hot puff of air behind her ear as she heard his breathy chuckle. “I need that hand,” he murmured in her ear, “Give me a minute.” She felt his hand skim down her back and over her bottom. Then, she felt him push his hand between her legs from behind and she realized that he was checking to see whether she was ready for him. Sara shivered again as he gently probed her entrance and pushed a long finger forward toward her clit. She almost laughed out loud when his finger bumped into Devian’s. She did laugh when she looked down to see the startled look on Dev’s face. His wide, golden eyes were fixed on a point somewhere above her left shoulder. She wondered whether Ian looked as surprised as his double did. “What’s that saying about too many cooks?” she asked. The clone turned his head to look back at her and loosed a soft sound that might have been a laugh. Shifting his eyes back to Ian, he asked, “Do you want me to…?” The question was unfinished when Ian interrupted, “No need. Stay where you are. I’m fine back here.” A moment later, she felt Ian guide himself inside her.

Ian’s right hand returned so that he was cupping both of her breasts again; he began to pump inside her. At the same time, Devian was still deftly stroking her clit. In fact, even before Ian had begun making love to her, the clone had had her well on her way to another orgasm. Although Sara had been reticent about taking both Nottinghams to her bed, now that she had them there she was finding the experience intoxicating. Her body was afire with sensation. With Ian massaging her breasts and thrusting deep inside her, and with Dev skillfully stroking her clit, all of her erogenous zones were being stimulated at once. She was transported to a plane of pure sensation. As Ian drove into her from behind, he pushed her forward against Devian. At that point, it suddenly occurred to her that the clone wasn’t getting much attention in this sexual marathon. Sara struggled to pull back from the glut of sensation that she was experiencing so that she could focus on the quiet man stretched out beneath her. She could still feel his swollen shaft pressing against her belly. She supposed that he was trying to get off indirectly through the pressure that was being applied to his erection as Ian made love to her.
Sara lost her concentration when another wave of pleasure lapped at her nerve endings. In reaction, her muscles clenched around Ian as he pistoned inside her. The erotic chain reaction engulfed him and Ian made a sound deep in this throat that was somewhere between a growl and a purr.

When she recovered enough to think again, Sara conceded that the clone was definitely being shortchanged in this triangle. She decided that she could remedy that. She stretched out her right hand to tangle it in his thick mane and pulled his head up to hers, locking her lips to his in a searing kiss. At the same time, she snaked her other hand down between their bodies until she grasped his hot, silky erection. Dev groaned deeply against her lips as she began to stroke him with a quick, hard rhythm. It was this spontaneous action of Sara’s that tipped the balance. Once she drew the clone directly into their lovemaking, all three of them were jointly engulfed in sensation; soon after that, they were all three also locked into the languid, delicious pull of a climax. When that erotic compulsion singing in their blood shifted into high gear, they felt it simultaneously. Its onset was heralded when the Witchblade’s carmine stone began to blaze like a flashfire on her wrist. Where Sara’s right hand was still buried in Dev’s tangled mop, the scarlet glow of the Blade made his hair look bloody. Sara suddenly realized that as they made love, the three of them were now moving in perfect synchronicity, as if they were a single organism. That epiphany scared the hell out of her. The Withblade was now emitting magenta bursts of light that colored the walls of the room. It made the small bedroom look like a cross between a discothèque and an abattoir.

They were moving faster and faster, the passion between them so heated and strong that it was almost a living thing. Sara shut her eyes. Her face was now tucked in the sweet wedge between Dev’s chin and shoulder. Her nostrils were filled with his scent. Her body stiffened as she felt her senses gathering themselves for the wild leap into the stunning orgasm that was almost upon her. The moment seemed to freeze in her perception. Abnormally loud, she heard Ian’s rhythmic grunts as he pounded into her; she heard Devian’s breathy moans as her hand gripped him tighter, picking up speed; she heard her own keening wails as the combination of Ian’s cock and Devian’s fingers filled her with a pleasure so sharp it made her bones ache. And, then, it all came together in one shattering moment: they climaxed – all of them together; the Witchblade spewed out a vivid, scarlet light so blinding they had to shut their eyes; and they felt the light, strange, and utterly alien touch of the twins, their babies, brush against their minds. That’s when the first vision struck.

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