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Date Posted: 07:59:28 12/28/03 Sun
Author: Slally
Subject: "Blood Seduction" - Chapter 23B (**** NC-17 ****)
In reply to: Slally11 's message, ""Blood Seduction"" on 07:38:43 12/28/03 Sun

Here's the second half of the chapter. It turned out to be too big to post in one piece.

***********************************************************

While Ian gathered their shopping bags and his backpack, like a grand lady, Sara allowed the doorman to hand her out of the jaguar. When she entered the lobby of the hotel, she looked around with awe. It was all glittering chandeliers, polished antiques, and sweeping arrangements of fresh flowers. The whole place reeked of style, taste, and wealth. Ian handed their shopping bags off to a bellman and, capturing her hand in his, led her to the front desk. The distinguished man behind the desk greeted Ian with a broad smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Nottingham,” he said, “So good to have you staying with us again.” He nodded politely to Sara and she nodded back. “I was able to secure the deluxe suite that you requested,” he added, handing a key card to their bellman. Ian smiled back pleasantly and said, “Thank you. I appreciate your trouble.” The man shook his head. “No trouble, sir. It was my pleasure. Enjoy your stay with us.” Sara studied Ian covertly. As ill at ease as he had been in Victoria’s Secret, he was comfortable in this environment. He fit here like a hand in a glove. That analogy made her smile. As they followed the bellman to the elevator, he leaned close to whisper, “What?” She whispered back, “Just thinking how well you fit in this setting.” He shrugged as the elevator doors closed behind them. It was all polished brass and mirrors. “I grew up staying in places like this all over the world,” he replied, “Mr. Irons only stays at the best. You soon learn the rules. It’s a lot less intimidating than it appears on the surface.” Sara was still cowed by the opulence of it all. “I’ll take your word for that,” she whispered, leaning close to rest her cheek against his shoulder.

Sara got another shock once they were in their room. It was huge and magnificent. There was a working fireplace. Fresh flowers, once again, were everywhere. The bathroom was black marble and luxury personified. There was a sitting room, filled with impressive antiques, and a bedroom dominated by a king-size bed. The windows offered a stunning view of Central Park. After a quick tour, she wound up in the middle of the bedroom, shaking her head. Ian leaned in the bedroom doorway, one dark brow lifted quizzically. She hugged herself to confirm that she was awake. “This is incredible,” she said. Ian grinned. “Wait until you sample the room service,” he teased. A thought suddenly occurred to her. “This isn’t the Honeymoon Suite, is it?” she asked. He dropped his eyes and color flooded his cheeks. He had actually considered that but didn’t think that she’d go for it. For his part, Ian believed that the Iunctura was a marriage of sorts. For his part, he believed that he and Sara were now mated for life. He was very aware, however, that she probably saw it differently. “No,” he responded, “This isn’t the Honeymoon Suite.”

She nodded, noticing the heightened color that her question had prompted. “This is ridiculous,” she thought, “Why do I suddenly feel shy with him?” Ian did it again; answered her unasked question. “It’s the surroundings,” he said softly, “It makes things seem new, different.” She nodded, watching him move toward her with that panther prowl of his. “Take a bath with me?” he asked, golden eyes glowing in the low light of the room, “The tub is big enough for a regiment. There are all kinds of lotions and bath salts to try.” Sara smiled. “You weren’t thinking of inviting company, were you?” she breathed as he moved nearer. He was so close that she could feel the heat coming off his body. “Absolutely not,” he purred, lips warm against her ear, “It’s only you and me this time. No one else can see, no one else can hear. I love you, Sara.” She dropped her head to his muscled shoulder and gave in to the inexorable pull of him. “I love you too,” she whispered. He sighed and pulled her into his arms, thinking, “Finally.” She dug her fingers into his silky curls, freeing them from the band that was restraining them, as he pressed his lips to hers. The leather band fell to the floor unnoticed. She felt his hot tongue teasing her lips apart and she opened her mouth to him. Ian moaned as they kissed deeply, their tongues tangling together. His arms tightened around her and then he was carrying her to the bathroom, his mouth still glued to hers. When he slid her down his body to stand again, their lips parted and they leaned together, both a bit dizzy from lack of air.

While she caught her breath, Sara looked around her. “This bathroom is bigger than my living room,” she observed. Ian smiled and bent over to begin filling the large, sunken tub with warm water. He picked up two artful bottles filled with delicately colored liquid. “Lavender or Strawberry?” he asked, reading the labels. She shrugged, starting to pull her sweater over her head. “Either one is a little flowery for you,” she said, “You’re more a Eucalyptus and Sandalwood kind of guy, aren’t you?” He caught her hand before she could remove the sweater and said, “Let me do that.” She dropped her hands back to her sides and watched as he poured pink lotion that smelled like fresh strawberries into the water. When the tub was filling to his satisfaction, Ian turned his attention to her. He pulled her sweater over her head and let it drop to the floor. Bending, he pressed his lips against the side of her neck, licking and sucking, while he rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms. Sara dropped her head back to give him more room to work. It felt really, really good. She sighed deeply when one questing hand moved to the hooks securing her bra. He was past them in a moment and her bra joined the sweater on the floor.

“Hey, you,” she murmured, her hands gripping his slender waist to keep herself upright. “Hmm?” Ian rumbled into her hair. Two long, warm fingers were slowly stroking up and down her spine. She shivered. “Time to lose your clothes too,” she said. He stopped, standing still. She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up. His hair was loose around his face and curly from the moisture in the air. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright with desire. He looked so beautiful that she stopped breathing for a moment. Then, she asked, “What’s the matter?” He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I don’t want to just drop my new clothes on the bathroom floor,” he mumbled, “I want to hang them up.” She snorted, amused. “Okay,” she said, “Go ahead and hang them up – but you better hurry back or I’ll start without you.” She let him go, crossing her arms over her bared breasts. He cocked his head at her, curious as to why she was hiding herself from him. Losing patience, she said, “Go on. Hurry up.” Not wanting to break the momentum of what was happening between them, he didn’t hesitate any longer. After he had disappeared into the bedroom, Sara stripped off her jeans and panties. She tested the water with her hand before easing into the deep tub. When she sat, the water was already up to her shoulders. She turned the water off.

Sara looked up when Ian returned to the bathroom with a towel knotted around his hips. “Would you like a glass of champagne?” he asked, “There’s some in the bedroom.” She studied him standing tall above her, built like a god. “I don’t want champagne,” she said, “I want you.” His lips curved and he dropped the towel. He obviously wanted her too. Ian got into the tub slowly, careful not to displace any water. She shook her head, thinking that it was an exercise in futility because there was probably soon going to be water everywhere. Sara moved into his arms, loving the slippery, warm feel of him wet. “Remember the first time we were in a tub together?” she whispered in his ear. Pulling back, she looked in his eyes. They had darkened to deep amber. He nodded and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. “My first time,” he whispered back. That still amazed her. She smiled and pushed a stray curl behind his ear. “You’re an expert now,” she said. One dark brow lifted. “Am I?” he asked softly. She nodded, putting her hands on his chest. Sara covered each of his flat, dark nipples with one of her thumbs and began to stroke them in slow circles. Ian made a soft sound deep in his chest. His breathing soon quickened and his head fell back to rest against the rim of the tub.

Still caressing his hardened nipples, Sara lifted herself onto his lap, facing him. Ian was trembling now under her fingers. He raised his head and said, “Stop,” voice hoarse with need. She slid her hands upward to grip his shoulders, asking, “Too close?” He managed to nod while he fought to get himself under control. After a moment, Ian bent forward, forcing Sara to arch her back. His warm mouth closed hungrily over her right nipple. She shut her eyes and sighed as she felt him start to suck, then gently score her with his teeth. Mouth still busy, he moved his hand to tweak her left nipple between the pads of his fingers. Their position was now reversed. He was in charge and she was awash in sensation. Sara continued to clutch his broad shoulders, nails digging into muscle, as it they were anchors keeping her from flying off the edge of the world. His talented mouth traveled over to her left breast while his hand tickled its way down her belly, dipped briefly in the scooped button, and came to rest where she wanted it most. When Ian began to stroke her hard with two stiff, skillful fingers, she was so eager for him that a sudden, violent orgasm took her completely by surprise. Sara let out a piercing cry. Her body bowed backward like a pliant willow branch and the fingers of both her hands slipped higher to bury themselves in his tousled mane, pressing his face to her flushed chest. She clung to him, panting, until she was able to regain her breath. The whole time, Ian continued to caress her, keeping her taut without pushing her over again.

Sara pushed forward, causing Ian to bring his head back up. Grasping handfuls of his silky hair, she pulled his face roughly to hers. She ground her mouth against his hard, feeling him draw in breath sharply. Muscles shifted and tensed beneath her as he strained closer, passion igniting and building quickly. Nipping her lower lip, he opened his mouth wide under hers, gasping out her name with that sweet catch in his voice. She arched her tongue, sliding it sinuously against his, and felt Ian’s hands run over her hips to grip her bottom tightly. Water began to slosh out of the tub unnoticed as he lifted Sara up and backward, positioning her above him. Their mouths were still locked together, tongues tightly entwined, when he thrust deeply inside with one smooth stoke. He felt so wonderful, suddenly filled her so fully, that Sara’s eyes almost rolled back in her head. Strawberry-scented water was going everywhere but neither of them gave a damn. They were completely oblivious to anything but each other. She made a sound somewhere between a groan and a purr, body arching, hands returning to grip his shoulders for better leverage.

Ian was still clasping her cheeks, maneuvering her against him as he pushed his hips up off the bottom of the tub. Sara reached backward to cover his hands with hers. Releasing his mouth with a soft sigh, she hissed, “Stay still, baby. Let me do it.” He opened his eyes and she was held by the bright, feral lust simmering in the molten gold. It took her breath away. When he dipped his head in a quick nod, a single drop of sweat rolled slowly from disheveled curls down to his brow. She watched it rapt until he gasped, “Go,” breaking the spell. Releasing his hands, she latched on to the rim of the tub behind him. Sara felt Ian’s hands lift to encircle her waist. Clenching her inner muscles tight around him, she rode Ian like he was a wild stallion that she was trying to break. He was with her through every bucking plunge, willingly letting her tame him. They clung together, again kissing passionately as they moved in perfect synchronicity. Delicious, erotic pressure continued to build inevitably toward release. When the Witchblade pulsed with strobing, scarlet beams on Sara’s wrist, she pulled back from their kiss, startled, and they both froze for a moment.

Bodies on fire, they stayed still, halted in mid-stroke, staring at the flashing bracelet. They were both ready to bolt if the Object of Power began sprouting tendrils. When it remained in its compact bracelet form around Sara’s wrist, their relieved eyes met and they relaxed, allowing the passion to reclaim them. Caught up again in the sensual undertow dragging them toward climax, shocked golden eyes locked with green as they both felt the hot current of the Blade now added to the mix. Its influence wasn’t intrusive or directive, it was just suddenly and unmistakably a distinctive element coursing through their blood as they edged toward consummation. Sara pressed her sweaty forehead against Ian’s as their bodies writhed together. “What’s happening?” she gasped. She felt his head shake against hers. “I don’t know,” he whispered huskily, then suggested, “Let’s just go with it, whatever it is.” She snorted, pulling back a little. “Do we have a choice?” she asked breathlessly. A sharp wave of stunning erotic heat swept through them and a hoarse cry was torn from Ian. Sara spasmed around him where he was sheathed deep inside her, pushing him over the edge and making him come explosively. There was another vivid spurt of sensual heat and an exquisite orgasm struck Sara at the point where they were joined, with sweet, devastating shock waves slowly rolling along the whole length of her vaginal tunnel.

In the aftermath, bodies limp and enmeshed, they rested against each other, attempting weakly not to slip beneath the water. Their loud panting echoed off the marble walls of the ornate bathroom. Sara wrapped her arms loosely around Ian’s neck and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Whew,” she whispered. Ian let his head fall backwards to rest on the rim of the tub and lifted his arms to curl them about Sara protectively – though there was no threat. Eventually, she shifted a little on his lap but he tightened his arms around her body. He raised his head to lean his cheek into her hair. “Please don’t move yet,” he murmured into her ear. She stopped squirming and settled back against his warm, wet body. After another few minutes though, Sara noticed that her fingers were starting to prune. Worse, against her exposed back, the air began to feel chilly. She shivered. His eyes opened and he asked, voice sleepy, “Are you cold?” She shivered again before she admitted, “A little.” His hot tongue traced the curve of her ear. Ian released her, moving her gently off his lap as water lapped against marble. “Time to get you dry and warm and into that nightgown,” he suggested. That sounded good, Sara thought. When she stood to step out of the sunken tub, she got her first good look at the chaos they had created in the previously pristine bathroom.

The marble floor of the bathroom was awash in strawberry-scented water. There were soggy towels everywhere. Sara’s eyes went wide, visions of lawsuits and fines filling her head. “Oh, Ian,” she breathed, shocked, “We’ve made an awful mess.” He stood and looked around. Shrugging, he blithely dismissed the damage. “Go on into the bedroom and dry off,” he said, unconcerned, “I’ll clean up in here.” He didn’t have to ask twice. Covered in goose bumps, she grabbed the one towel she could find that was only slightly damp and took it with her into the bedroom. She dried off her body and then wrapped her wet hair in the towel. Sara carried the Victoria’s Secret bags over to the fireplace, where a blaze burned cheerily. She dressed in the slinky, sexy dark green gown, robe, and feathered mules then tossed the empty bags into the fire. Settling into a comfortable easy chair by the fireplace, legs tucked up under her, she unwrapped her hair and began industriously toweling it dry. Sara was dozing, lulled by the heavy silk against her body and the warmth of the fire, when a soft noise made her open her eyes. Ian was using tongs to shift logs in the fireplace, refreshing the blaze. She studied him appreciatively. He was clad loose, white silk pajama bottoms. The tanned skin of his perfectly-muscled torso gleamed subtly in the soft firelight. His hair fell around his face in damp, shiny chocolate curls. He was very beautiful, she thought drowsily.

Sara yawned and asked, “Where did the pajamas come from?” He dropped the tongs back beside the fireplace before turning back to her. Smiling shyly, he replied, “I picked them up while you were looking at sweaters. I figured I’d try something other than black. Are they okay?” She nodded. “You look great,” she assured him. A touch of color blossomed in his cheeks. The effect that she sometimes had on him still amazed her. She lifted a hand to absently brush it through her knotted hair. His eyes warmed like small, golden suns. “Can I comb out your hair?” he asked eagerly. She could see that he really wanted to do this. She shrugged and agreed, “Sure.” Ian disappeared into the bathroom and came back in a few seconds carrying a comb. “Let’s sit on the bed,” he suggested. She bit back an amused smile. “He’s getting so into this,” she thought. Aloud, she acquiesced and sat in front of him on the huge bed. He pulled her back a little to rest comfortably against his warm, hard body. She took a deep breath and observed, “You smell wonderful.” She heard his snort behind her. “We both smell like strawberry puree,” he complained. She shut her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure of feeling his hands in her hair as he gently combed loose her tangles. Sara sighed and whispered, “Good enough to eat.” The comb stilled for a moment and his deep rumble vibrated against her back. “I’ll remind you of that later,” he growled softly. She laughed.

When he finished, Sara’s hair fell in loose, chestnut waves about her shoulders. Ian put the comb on the nightstand and pushed back her hair to press a warm kiss to the side of her neck. She sighed and leaned back against the warm hardness of him. The lure of his sensual body was like a siren call. She resisted it with some difficulty. She bent forward, wrapping her arms around herself, and tried to dampen her raging hormones. Not helping, he moved with her, rubbing suggestively against her back. She sucked in a long, calming breath and decided, “We have to talk.” She felt Ian go still against her. “Is something wrong?” he asked warily. She turned her head slightly, pushing her fluffy hair out of the way to look at him. A tiny line had appeared between his brows. Sara put her hand on his. “Don’t get upset, baby,” she soothed, “It’s okay. Something strange happened between us this morning. We need to talk about it. Don’t you think?” The frown disappeared. “Yes,” he agreed softly, “We do.” Sara shifted around on the big bed to face her lover. She looked into the luminous, golden eyes and posed the question that had been haunting her since she knew that she had fallen in love with this man. “What happens now?” Sara asked Ian.

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