Chapter 4 -- Witchblade Karma

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Later, neither could have said when they shed the remainder of their clothing, or how they made it to the rug before the fire. Whoa, fast learner, Sara thought breathlessly as Ian, following an impulse older than time itself, arched into her. She enfolded him as he cradled her; she breathed in his rich, earthy scent in quick gasps as he set a primal, demanding rhythm to their loving. His lips teased her shoulder, teased her senses. She caressed his back in long strokes. He growled his pleasure against her cheek.

�Yes, yes, ohhhhh, yes,� Sara crooned against the hard silk of his chest. God, this man�s a virgin, she marveled. What would he be like if he knew what he was doing? Sara found herself awash in sensation � assaulted on every side by feelings for which there were no words. The Witchblade came to life on her arm. Its frenzied glow and swirl seemed only to carry Sara further into the sensual vortex. Oh� what in hell is�? Sara arched against Ian as sensation magnified upon sensation. God, does it feel this good to Ian�? Barely coherent, she flexed her thighs against his hips and pulled him more tightly against her. Her reward was his mindless sound of pleasure in her ear.

Ian gritted his teeth in a frantic attempt at self-control. Each movement provided more mind-blowing pleasure � pleasure such as he had never before known. His breath hot on her shoulder, he touched the tip of his tongue to her damp saltiness and loved the taste of her. Her scent intoxicated him. He instinctively continued his assault on her womanhood as his powerful arms cradled her, tried to protect her from the hardness of the stone floor beneath the rug. He crooned her name, over and over. His name became a breathless gasp as with each movement he carried her closer to the precipice. Ian�s response became her own, and hers, his� until the ecstasy overtook them both.

�Oh� ohhhh, Sara, Sara, Saraaaaaa�� Mingled joy and terror edged Ian�s voice. But Sara could only cling to him, gasping out his name in return as they strained together. Repletion followed release; lassitude made Sara�s limbs deliciously heavy. Ian�s warm weight felt good against her.

Whew. Whoa. Wow. How long have I wanted that to happen? Sara grinned. She still held Ian close to her, even though he made no attempt to move. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the Witchblade; it glowed softly now, as if also satisfied. Or was it you? Well. Whatever, it was worth the bruises I�ll be carrying around. Damn stone floors.

A long moment passed before Sara realized Ian had not lifted his damp face from her shoulder. She lifted a hand to smooth back the tangle of dark hair that covered his face when she heard a muffled sound against her breast.

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