Deepest Wish - Chapter 4-5 (end) -- Witchblade Karma

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Date Posted: 12:47:43 06/03/02 Mon
Author: moondreamer
Subject: Deepest Wish - Chapter 4-5 (end)
In reply to: moondreamer 's message, "Deepest Wish - for the archive" on 12:41:27 06/03/02 Mon

Chapter 4

Sara took a deep breath. The combination of flower scents and the powerful essense that was Ian overloaded her senses. She could feel his breath brush across her face, his whispers feeling like the petals of the softest rose. She could feel herself giving in. His words and caresses weaving a spell of enchantment around her that seemed impossible to resist.

She struggled to pull herself together. As inviting as the tub looked, as much as her thoughts had turned to Ian today the reality of being in her bathroom with him left her unsettled. What did he expect of her now? Should she just strip off in front of him and dive into the tub? What would happen then? Would he be joining her? Her breathing increased at the thought. She realized she had seen more of Ian�s flesh this evening than she ever had before, and that was just his feet and his ungloved hands. She could not help but wonder how the rest of him would look, and feel. And wonder if she was crazy for letting her mind travel in that direction.

Ian watched the windows that were her eyes and saw her confusion and then her unspoken answer. His heart sang with the realization that she wasn�t rejecting him or his gifts this time, this night. He slowly removed his hand from her face. Sliding his palm gently across her cheek he turned away.

�Go ahead and get comfortable, Sara. I have some things I need to do.�

Sara watched Ian leave the bathroom in disbelief. Talk about a let down! How could he be doing this to her? The man had her down for the count, ready to give in and face the feelings he aroused in her and he was walking away? �Oh brother, I am losing it.� She thought, shaking her head. This is what she gets for lusting after some guy�s toes! On the other hand, if he was going to be busy out there she wasn�t one to waste a perfectly good tub.

Slowly removing her clothes Sara realized how peaceful the room seemed. He had hung some type of gauzy, glittery material over the ceiling and walls, hiding the stark tile. The candles flickered gently, lending a warm glow to the room, twinkling as it touched the sparkles in the material. Bending over she trailed one hand through the steaming tub of water. Realizing as she did so that he had strewn petals through the water, they swirled gently around her hand in welcome. She smiled as she stepped slowly into the tub and let the water rise up over her shoulders. Leaning her head back she realized he had come up with pillow from somewhere and had attached it to the back in the perfect position for her to rest her head. Smiling she gave the balloons tied to the spigot a nudge with her foot, watching as they moved gently. Wondering as she did so at this expression of his unexpectedly whimsical sense of humor. Something she might never have given him credit for.

Sara closed her eyes slowly; she felt the peace and stillness of the moment creeping over her. After all the doubts and uncertainties of this day the lack of demands seemed strange. She could feel the freight train that was her mind slow, her breathing deepen. She could hear music now, something soft and hypnotic playing in the background. Settling deeper in the water she felt herself letting go and began to feel cherished. Smiling at that thought she slipped even deeper into relaxation.

Ian stood in the doorway with a tray in his hand. He took a deep breath and swallowed at the sight before him. This, he knew, would be the truest test of his devotion. The ability to push his own wants and desires to the side and focus only on his Lady. But before him lay a vision of paradise such as he had never dreamed. The sight of his Sara, clothed only in the flickering mystery of the candlelight was a greater temptation than he had ever imagined. He had let enough time slip to by to hopefully relax her inhibitions and no it was time to continue.

Sara heard a small noise and stirred dreamily. �Ian,� she murmured. Her thoughts were centered on him even now.

�Yes, beloved.� Ian moved around behind her and set the tray down.

Her eyes flew open at the sound of his voice. Reality came back with a rush. Her hands flew up over her chest and the water stirred as she jerked up. �What..what..� she stammered again. Great Pezzini, she thought, you are naked and you sound like a broken record. She realized he was behind her and tried to turn to look at him. Wait a minute, did he really say that?

�Relax Sara,� Ian spoke gently, his breath sweet upon her left ear. �There is nothing to fear here.� He raised his hand and stroked it over her hair. Tugging his fingers through the curls gently he used both hands to pull her hair up over her neck and direct her head slowly back down on the pillow.

She let herself be guided. She really was too relaxed to get upset and it did feel oh so good to have his hands in her hair. Even her nakedness didn�t bother her if she really thought about it. As often as he had watched over her it would be too much to expect he had never seen her flesh before.

�Remember Sara, this time is for you. A chance for you to escape that which torments you.� As Ian spoke he moved his attention away from her gleaming flesh back to the tray he had brought in. Reaching down he picked up a length of white satin and pulled it gently though his fingers. Surely the satin could feel no softer than her skin. He wound the satin through both of his hands and raised them over her head.

Sara felt the coolness of the satin as it was placed over her eyes. She could feel Ian�s fingers as he tied the ends into a knot behind her head. He moved his hands through her hair once again, moving the strands gently until they lay on top of the blindfold. His hands smoothed over her forehead, moving and tucking the satin until it covered her eyes completely. He moved his hands gently down her face and stroked the long column of her neck. Unable to resist the lure of the exposed flesh he lowered his head and placed a kiss on the delicate skin under her ear. He jerked his head back with sense of alarm as he waited for her reaction to his bold move.

Sara moaned as she felt the touch of his lips upon her flesh. The deprivation of her sense of sight seemed to increase her other senses. She heard the music in the background, the soft sounds of the water as she moved her legs restlessly, heard the sound of Ian�s breath as he seemed shocked as his own daring. The scent of flowers seemed to intensify and her skin reacted with a prickle of flesh as she shivered with delight at kiss.

Pleased with her reaction to his unexpected caress Ian picked up a glass of wine from the tray he had brought in with him. �Drink Sara.� He held the glass to her lips and watched as she swallowed slowly. He waited to see if she would raise her hands and attempt to take control of the glass but she lay quiescent in the scented water. He brought the glass to his lips and placing his in the same spot hers had been took a drink himself. He reached to the tray again and picked up a bowl of fruit he had cut into bite-sized pieces earlier.

He took a succulent piece of cantaloupe out of the bowl. Placing it in his mouth he sucked the excess juice off before removing it and placing it between Sara�s parted lips. She took the fruit in her mouth slowly, licking the flavor from his fingers as she closed her lips around the tidbit. The muscles in her throat moved as she chewed the fruit.

Ian�s breath caught in his throat. Her unexpected responses to his plans were affecting him more than he ever expected. He shuddered for a moment, closing his eyes in an effort to control the strong emotions that surged through him. Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes and feasted visually on the sight of Sara, naked below him in the sparkling water. The white satin blindfold contrasted with the color of her hair, accenting the ripe color of her lips. Steeling himself to remain in control, he picked up the sponge from the side of the tub in his trembling hands. He dipped it slowly in the water, letting the sponge absorb the scented water.

Sara�s senses had barely recovered from the stimulation of the wine and fruit when she felt the caress of a sponge gliding over her skin. She was unable to hold back another moan at the sensation. It was such a rush. To go from always being in control, always on the edge to being totally dependent upon Ian was a strange yet not unwelcome feeling. Everything so far was geared to releasing her need to control her environment and give herself over to her senses. The feeling of being cherished was only be intensified by Ian�s every move, his every sound. She could not remember the last time she felt such a sense of trust or caring.

The pass of time seemed a blur for both Ian and Sara. He fed them slowly from the delicacies he had brought with him. They shared the wine from a single glass and he continued to bathe her with gentle strokes. The unspoken communion between them intensified. His head rested by hers and it seemed as if they were sharing the same breath. Neither spoke, afraid to break the spell that Ian had created. Only when the food was gone and he realized that the water was cooling did Ian stand.

�Don�t stop� Sara whispered. Her every nerve ending seemed attuned to Ian.

�I must, beloved.� Ian replied. He stood slowly, only then realizing that the silk of his shirt was drenched with water. He reached for a towel and draping it over one shoulder he reached down to Sara. Taking her gently by the arms he effortlessly raised her from the water. Wrapping her in the towel he dried her slowly.

The feel of the towel was almost unbearable to Sara�s oversensitive skin. She wanted to purr like a cat at his continuing ministrations. He lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom.

He gently placed her face down on a padded futon he had placed on the floor and covered with more of the white satin. �Are you ready for the next part of your evening, Sara?� He questioned.� There is an aspect to a warrior�s training that most people overlook. The ability to create unbearable pain through various nerve endings is understood by most. What is not is that the same knowledge allows one to create unbearable pleasure.�

Sara barely heard his words as she felt the first touch of his hands upon her.

Chapter 5

Ian had read many various philosophical treaties that told how no man may look upon the face of his god; yet here he was facing the almost unforgivable sin, and supreme pleasure of touching his. If Irons was his master, and sometimes Ian wondered how long he could continue to let that fiction continue; Sara was definitely his god. His lodestone. The very essence of his life and breath.

Wrapped in a length of the same satin that covered the cushioned futon, Sara lay face down before him. The white satin blindfold that was tied around her head was an outward sign of her inward relinquishment of control for this brief period of time. He was still surprised at all that had come to pass on this day. Could he explain to himself how the axis of his world seemed to have tilted 180 degrees in such a few short hours? Sara�s unexpected trust in him was both sobering and awe-inspiring. And yet, he told himself, enough of this speculation. Reality lay before him, waiting.

Filling his hands with the oil he had brought with him and had left warming by the futon, Ian took a deep breath and began to touch the golden flesh of his Lady Sara. He uncovered her feet slowly. Surely, this would be the place to start. A place to gradually ease him into the unprecedented familiarity he was taking. Earlier, at least, the water covered her flesh with mystery. Even when he had caressed her with the sponge the water and candlelight had played hide and seek with his vision. Here, even though the light was dim, she would be exposed to his devoted gaze. He wanted to cover her tiny feet with kisses of worship. But instead Ian took her left foot in his strong hand and began to smooth the oil in.

Ian could feel himself start to tremble as he first felt her warmth. Emotions seared through him, too many to stop and pin any one down. All during the years of wearing gloves, the outward manifestation of his physical separation from the rest of the world he had wondered what it would be like to touch the flesh of another. Even when sparring or in combat he always had been commanded to keep the gloves on. To have removed his gloves, to have no barrier between himself and Sara but the thin film of oil was a heady delight beyond any fantasy or dream he had ever had.

He moved his hands slowly up her delicate ankle. How hard to believe that such a fragile set of bone and sinew could propel his Lady to such heights of physicality he had watched from afar. Smoothing the oil into her calf and shin he could feel the beat of her heart in the pale blue veins behind her knee. Gently, Gently, Ian reminded himself, as his grip tightened for a few breathless moments. He gathered the tattering remnants of his control around himself and moved his hands further up to the smooth skin of her thigh. He traced the outlines of her muscles, the quadriceps, the hamstring, her inner and outer thighs. He was awed at the sight of such power, such beauty. He had been correct; the satin of her skin was far smoother than the feel of the satin he had wrapped his lady in.

Brushing aside any and all internal musings Ian refocused his attention and began to exercise the vast knowledge of human anatomy and nerve endings that he had acquired during his years of study. For every arcane manner in which he had been taught to cause excruciating pain he had also acquired arcane and obscure methods in which to cause excruciating pleasure. These are what he focused on now. Every inch of Sara was now a blank canvas on which he could paint the depth of his love and caring. His instruments of choice would be his hands and his heart.

Sara moaned aloud, unable to contain herself. She had various friends through the years who tried to teach themselves reflexology and various other forms of massage and physical manipulation. Mainly, she thought with dry amusement, as a way to try to get into her pants. Yet no one had ever, EVER managed to expose her to the vast array of pleasure she was feeling as Ian touched her. From the moment she had lain back in the tub she had relinquished, for what seemed to be the first time in her life, any and all attempt to control what would happen next, and she found the rewards were greater than she had ever imagined.

There didn�t seem to be an inch of her that Ian did not touch with his warm, callused hands. The friction of his skin moving through the oil seemed to create burning warmth throughout her body. Sara began to feel as if she were instrument being played by a master musician. Every nuance of feeling, from the most delicate tendril of sensation to a grand crescendo of pleasure was being pulled from her very soul by his probing fingers. The Witchblade glowed, it�s carnelian heart seeming to pulse and hum happily on her wrist as Ian continued his explorations. Sara wondered briefly if it would attempt to overwhelm her with visions but The Witchblade seemed to be content to experience the moment with Sara and Ian.

Sara felt as she had been waiting her entire life for this moment, this man. Somewhere deep within herself she had always known there was more to be had. She would spend time with a man, enjoy him for a bit, but always feel, that something was lacking. Even during her brief time with John she had felt that there was still something held back. That she was lacking. That some deep void within her was still waiting to be filled. Now it seemed that completion was at hand. Ian had been right; every bit of pain and worry seemed to be pouring out of her body with every stroke of his clever hands. Here, truly, was a respite from the demands of her life. Both the physical and mental burdens she carried were dissipating into a haze that seemed to float out and above her; purged from her psyche by the force of his devotion to her pleasure.

A new tickle of sensation brought her attention back to the moment. Sara could feel the coolness that replaced the heat of his flesh upon hers. A sharp, delicate edge was touching her now, questioning. pleasing. Adding an edge to the warm pool of contentment she was bathed in. She could feel the spike of adrenaline start to perk in her veins. A knife, Ian was using one of his killing knives to stroke down her body. The knife rode lightly on her flesh, gliding through the oil that coated her. It seemed to be a living extension of his hand, coaxing and caressing Sara in the most secret and soft areas of both her body and her soul. The added surge of emotion became too much for Sara and she cried out in ecstasy as the combination of danger sensed and pleasure felt reached yet another climax within her.

Ian shuddered mightily. Sweat seemed to pour off him in buckets. His hands shook, and his breathing was both harsh and deep. The room, though dimly lit by the candles seemed to glow with a burning intensity. Through the delirium haze he was experiencing, held at bay only by his iron will he heard the words to a song he had heard at some point in the past. A maid, new to the Irons estate, used to listen to music while she cleaned. For that reason alone she had not lasted. But the song, the words spoke by the gravely voice of the singer had etched themselves into Ian�s mind. Surfacing now as Sara writhed in pleasure beneath him, her sighs and moans driving him insane with urges he struggled to hold back.

�I stepped into a burning ring of fire. Down, down, down and the flames got higher��

This is where Ian was at this moment. The loft, his carefully constructed arena for Sara�s pleasure had turned into a burning ring of fire around him. Sara, herself, had turned into a living flame under his hands. A flame that burned Ian deep down to the very bottom of his soul. It burned with an intensity that seemed molten. Finding and destroying any and all remaining loyalty to Kenneth Irons and sealing his fate, his destiny to live and die for Sara and The Witchblade. The Witchblade, for whatever reasons of it�s own had chosen to share with Ian the sensations Sara was experiencing. It had shown him her deepest, most secret wishes, gave him the answers to her unspoken questions and shared with him the pleasure he created. In return it expected Ian�s all. He gave it, gladly.

It was at this moment that Sara raised her hands. Her movements were slow and languid. It seemed difficult for her to move. As Ian watched she removed the blindfold from over her eyes and turned to face him. Ian cast his eyes to the floor. It didn�t seem right for her to choose this moment to look at him. Now, when his soul was open and exposed to her and The Witchblade.

Sara raised herself up and reached a hand out to Ian. She stroked it slowly along the curve of his cheek and jaw. She felt the softness of his beard, feel the sweat that continued to pour off of him. Almost in a dream she pushed the black silk shirt off his shoulders. The fabric clung to him wetly, between the water from her bath and sweat of his passion it was soaked through. She ran her hands over the detailed musculature of his chest and arms, unable to resist she reached out delicately with her tongue and tasted the sweat that covered his chest. Sara felt him begin to shake beneath her hands.

�Sara�� Ian exclaimed hoarsely. �You know not what you do here.� His chest heaved up and down beneath the delicate fingers of his ladylove. He felt as if his lungs were bellows. �My goal here is only to serve you�to give you your deepest wish on this of all days.�

Sara smiled; she didn�t know how they would make it work. How the two of them would fit into each other�s lives; but she knew at this point there would be no turning back. She and Ian were joined. Through The Witchblade, through love, through desire. Through time itself. He had called to her with his soul, to love her, to please her and to fight for and beside her. She could do nothing else but answer that call.

�Ah, Ian� Sara breathed. �I was wrong this morning. I have been wrong my entire my life.� She drew his head down to hers slowly, watching the hope that dawned in his eyes. As her lips moved to delicately cover his she whispered softly to her love, ��you Ian, you are my deepest unspoken wish.�

-Fin-.

Author�s note:

I am actually pretty puzzled by this. I started out with every intention of doing an absolute, total kink fest. Blindfolds, Knives�nasty, nasty raunchy sex. (just seemed to be what I needed a the time) But, they wouldn�t let me do it. I cannot believe the sweetness that took this thing over when I think of how I started. Maybe I will turn this into an NC-17later, but it almost seems like it doesn�t need it. What do you think?

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Replies:

Does it need it? -- Dracaeakire, 20:46:51 12/28/02 Sat
This story is still great. I've only read it a hundred times. -- Tanya, 05:20:32 01/08/03 Wed