"Blood Seduction"

When Ian had come home from the dojo on Thursday night, he had found Sara sleeping on their bed. He eased her under the covers without waking her. As he undressed, Ian realized that they had not made love since before his “kidnapping” and incarceration at the mansion. He was getting twitchy. It was a good thing that he was able to work off some of his frustration at the dojo; otherwise, he probably would have jumped Sara by now. The whole evening he had wondered whether he would get a vicarious slap of lust from the Witchblade. It had never come. He was surprised. Ian had expected Devian to take the opportunity of his absence to hit on Sara. And, given the ambiguity of her feelings for his brother, Ian wasn’t sure how she would react. It wasn’t like the clone to miss such a chance. Ridiculously, Ian found that he was concerned about Dev; about whether he was alright. Annoyed with himself, Ian dropped down to the main floor of the loft. He grabbed his cell and took it into the library so that he wouldn’t wake Sara. Not wanting to examine his motives, he suppressed them and dialed his brother’s number from memory. It rang several times before a sleepy Devian answered. “Are you alright?” Ian asked a little brusquely. Amusement pushing the drowsiness from his voice, the clone responded, “Yeah, I’m fine. Checking up on me? Sara sleeping?” Ian made a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl, and hung up without another word. Reassured that everyone was safe, he went to bed, climbing in beside his lover and soon drifting off to sleep.

The next day seemed to fly by. Ian returned to Vorschlag to make decisions, have meetings, and generally do whatever else was necessary to put Irons’ empire in order before it was officially passed to his heir. Devian finished watching and shredding the tapes that chronicled Vicki’s and Sara’s lives. He also did some treasure hunting within the mansion, concentrating his quest in Irons’ Witchblade Room. Wanting to learn more about both the Wielder and the Object of Power that he was now linked to by blood, he brought a large, ornate, and very old book filled with Witchblade lore back to the Observatory with him. The clone spent the remainder of the afternoon reading. Sara, Danny, and Jake caught a new case first thing that morning. They spent the morning investigating the crime scene and doing witness interviews. Most of the afternoon was consumed by writing up the related reports. Vicki had done the autopsy on their DB. This one was pretty pedestrian. It wasn’t one of Sara’s mondo bizzaro cases; it was just a garden variety domestic disturbance that had escalated into murder. Vicki had her caseload under control by mid-afternoon so she left early to get a jumpstart on her dinner party. She made a stop at the grocery and the bakery. Then, she headed home to create borscht and Hungarian goulash from scratch. To accompany that, she would whip a salad together. That was a no brainer. She had picked up dessert at the bakery. She was in her loft cooking away by 4:00, with everything so well under control it was scary. While the meal simmered quietly, Vicki got a quick shower and changed into a stunning new black dress that she’d bought specially for the occasion.

As Vicki had hoped, Devian was the first to arrive. When she opened the door, she found him holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and a bouquet of a dozen red roses in the other. The man himself looked good enough to eat, Vicki thought. Tonight, he was in chocolate brown leather – pants, boots, and bomber jacket; all topped with a gold, cashmere sweater that matched his eyes. His hair was pulled back and he had a tiny, gold hoop earring in his left ear lobe. The man was gorgeous. “No. Not man,” she mentally corrected herself, “Clone. Devian is Ian’s clone.” She took the wine and roses from him, and said, “Take off your jacket. You can put it on the bed. Want some wine?” Dev shrugged out of his jacket and headed toward the bed, saying, “I’d love some. Thanks.” He pitched his jacket to the bed and joined her in the kitchen. He inhaled and said, “It smells great.” She tipped her head to smile at him and say, “I hope you like goulash.” He shrugged. “I’ve never had it,” he said, “If it tastes as good as it smells, I’m eager to try it.” He leaned that long, hard body back against her kitchen cabinets and she appreciated his elegant lines as she handed him a glass of wine. She gave him a quick look out of the corner of her eye as she stirred something on the stove. “I guess almost everything must seem new to you, doesn’t it?” she asked. His head came up and the big, golden eyes went wary. “What do you mean?” he countered. Vicki put down the spoon and turned to face him. “Sara told me,” she said, “That you’re Ian’s clone.” Dev’s mouth dropped open. Vicki had never seen him caught completely off guard. It was quite a sight.

His guard was back up in seconds. “Okay,” Devian said. His attitude was a pugnacious “so?” Vicki grinned. “I don’t want to fight about it,” she said. He blinked, trying to feel his way. “What do you want?” he asked, “You didn’t bring this up just for the hell of it.” Vicki nodded. She would always be at a disadvantage with him in any battle of mental wits, she suspected. His IQ was probably off the charts. “I just want to talk to you about it,” she said, “Learn what it’s like.” When he didn’t respond, she added. “I’m a scientist. You’re a living, breathing miracle. I admit that I’m fascinated.” As she watched him, his face closed up. Dev put his wine down on the kitchen counter and he turned to go back into the main room. Vicki followed him. He went to the bed, picked up his jacket, and started to put it back on. She dropped the towel that she’d been holding and rushed to stop him. “Wait,” she cried, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. What’s wrong?” Still not saying a word, Devian tried to push past her but Vicki planted herself in front of him and said, “Damn it, Dev. Talk to me.” He finally stopped and looked into her eyes. Although he was trying to conceal it, she saw the hurt now in the expressive, golden eyes. “I’ve had enough of laboratories and scientists to last me for the rest of my life,” he said softly. He said “scientists” like it was a dirty word. “I have no desire to be treated like something that escaped from a Petri dish,” he added, “I just want to be allowed to live a normal life.” Vicki put her hand on his forearm. She was struck again by the hard muscle under her fingers. He immediately shook off the restraint and she stepped back, raising her hands in surrender. “But you’re not normal, are you?” she asked rhetorically, “And, what’s so wonderful about being ‘normal’ anyway? Why don’t you want to be special?”

“I haven’t been out and about in your world for very long, Vicki, but I’m not stupid,” he said, “I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I’ve watched a lot of television. I know what will happen if the media finds out about me. There will be a colossal feeding frenzy and they’ll eat me alive. I’d rather be dead. Is that what you’re planning? To write me up in a nice, tidy scientific paper? To present this ‘living, breathing miracle’ to the world?” He was obviously upset by the ramifications of what she might do with the knowledge now in her possession. Vicki was about to reassure the clone when there was a knock at the door. “Don’t move,” she said to Devian, holding up a hand like a stop sign. He frowned and she added, “Please. Give me a chance to defend myself,” as she walked toward the front door to answer it. She was relieved when he stood still. He did not, however, remove his jacket again. Vicki opened the door to reveal Sara and Ian. The Wielder had another bottle of red wine in her hands and Ian hefted a large cheeseboard wrapped in aluminum foil. Noticing Devian across the room, Sara said, “Hey, sparky.” Taking in his jacket, she asked, “Are you going or coming?” Dev took a couple of steps toward Sara and stopped, his stance combative. “You told her about me,” he accused. Both women were startled to see that the clone’s big, golden eyes were now shiny with unshed tears. Sara pushed the bottle of wine into Vicki’s hands, shooting her a furious glare. Sara took a step toward Dev, hands raised in supplication. “Sparky…,” she began. He took a step back from her. “I’m just some thing to you too, aren’t I?” he asked, “No rights, no privacy. Just a clever pet; something you can enjoy, use a little when it suits you, but not take very seriously. After all, I’m only a replica of the real thing.” His eyes shot to Ian for a moment, then came back to Sara. “Just a freak really,” he hissed. He didn’t see Ian wince at that observation, at those specific words. Devian was shaking. His glance shifted to Vicki. “Fodder for a side show, a media circus. Immo’s Monster,” he added, already picturing the banner on the National Enquirer. Dev paused and then just stopped. He had finally run down.

“Devian,” Sara tried again, moving toward him, holding out her hand. The clone shook his head and pushed past her. He was out the door and gone before any of them had recovered enough to try to stop him. Sara turned to Vicki, livid. “Damn it, Vicki,” she growled, “What the hell did you say to him?” Before Vicki could answer, Sara turned away, pushing both hands roughly through her hair. “I should never have told you about him,” she whispered, as if to herself. Ian put the cheeseboard that he still held down on the table by the door. He sighed loudly and Sara turned to him. Their eyes locked. “Go ahead,” he said so softly that she almost couldn’t hear him. Sara gave her head a tiny shake. She wasn’t sure whether she was denying herself or him. “You know what could happen if I go to him,” she whispered, “The Blade is still wonky around him. I don’t trust It.” Ian nodded once. “Yeah. I know,” he agreed, “Go ahead. I understand.” She studied him, a little appalled. “How could you?” she asked, “I don’t want to lose you. I won’t help him at your expense, Ian.” He smiled very gently. There was a long pause while he organized his thoughts. Finally, he explained, “I understand because I’ve been where he is right now. I’ve felt what he’s feeling. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone my little brother, my twin. Go to him, Sara. Help him through it. You won’t lose me. I promise. We’ll talk this out, once and for all, when you get back.” Sara crossed the distance between them and moved into Ian’s arms. He gathered her in. Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him deeply. When she finally pulled back, she whispered, “I love you.” He bent to slant his warm lips across hers again. “I love you too,” he responded, “Now, go before I change my mind. It’s alright.” She nodded and walked out the door.

Vicki dropped into a chair, wringing her hands. She was crying. Ian turned to her. “Oh, god,” she wailed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I would never go to the media about him. I never meant that I would.” Ian sighed again and sat on the edge of the sofa across from her. “What did you say to him?” he asked. She shook her head, trying to remember. Vicki sniffed and continued, “I told him that his existence was a miracle to a scientist like me and that I wanted to talk to him about it. I never threatened to expose him in any way. I swear it.” Ian held up a hand. Vicki’s voice had been edged with desperation. “I believe you,” he replied, “It’s just that people like Devian and me are probably a bit suspicious of the results when scientists come into the picture. Such people have used us both too badly too often.” Vicki shook her head. “Oh man,” she breathed, “I’ve really fucked things up, haven’t I?” Not just for Dev, but for you and Sara too.” Ian smiled patiently. He was beginning to feel like the caretaker in the asylum. “I’m sure that it will all work out in the end,” he responded, “Don’t beat yourself up too much over it.” There was a pause before he added, “I think something is burning.” When what he had just said sunk in, Vicki vaulted up from the chair and hurtled toward the kitchen, shrieking, “Holy shit! My dinner!” As he ambled after her, Ian heard pans clattering. “Is it salvageable?” he asked, “I’m starving.” He stood in the kitchen doorway watching her bounce around the room. “Can we eat it?” he asked, feeling his empty stomach growl softly. When all was again under control, Vicki turned to him. “It’s fine,” she said, relieved, “Everything’s fine. Should we wait…” Her voice trailed off. Ian shook his head. “They’ll fend for themselves,” he assured her, “Let’s eat.” Although her dinner party was in shambles, Vicki still had one guest. Together, they put dinner on the table.

When Sara reached the mansion, a security guard stopped her at the front door. After she told him that she wanted to see Devian, he went to a large phone unit with multiple lines on the wall beside the door. He picked up the receiver and pressed a button. The man spoke briefly and then turned back to Sara, saying “He doesn’t want to see you, miss.” Sara’s lips thinned. “Let me speak to him,” she ordered. The man stifled a sharp grin and handed her the receiver as she stepped to the phone. He again pressed a button before stepping away and turning his back to give her some privacy. The clone’s petulant voice yelled, “Damn it! I told you that I didn’t want to see her! What part of that don’t you understand?” She let a little silence lengthen. She eventually heard a confused Devian say, “Hello?” Sara smiled. “Hi there, sparky,” she answered pleasantly. She heard him expel an annoyed snort before he started, “Sara…” Her voice hard, Sara replied, “Okay, now you listen to me. If you want me to treat you like a man, then you’ll stop having this childish tantrum. You’ll let me up there so that we can talk about this like adults.” There was silence before he said, “You’re a hard woman, Pezzini. I do anything but what you want here, I look like an asshole. No. Not just an asshole – an infantile asshole.” Her smile turned into a grin. “That’s because I’m right,” she said. He snorted again. “That’s because you’re smart and you know how to make me do what you want,” he growled, adding, “Give me five minutes. I’ll send someone to bring you to me.” She listened to him breathe, then said, “Don’t make me wait too long.” She hung up the receiver. She saw the security guard stifle another grin before he turned back to face the front door.

True to his word, five minutes later, a young girl came out of a side door in the hallway ahead of her. She was pushing a serving cart that held a silver coffee service with a samovar and a large tray of wrapped sandwiches. “Detective Pezzini?” she called. Sara walked down the hall to join her. The girl smiled and said, “I’m to take you to Master Devian.” Sara smiled back at her, waving a hand, and said, “Lead on.” The girl turned and led Sara on a torturous route through the mansion than ended in a dark corridor containing a large elevator door. Once there, the girl pressed one of the buttons beside the elevator and the big doors slid open. She pushed the cart on the elevator and held the door, saying, “Master Devian is waiting for you above, miss.” Sara nodded and stepped on the elevator, standing beside the cart and waving goodbye to the girl. “Thanks,” she called as the doors shut again. While the elevator rose, Sara leaned over to flip up the lid of the samovar and take a deep whiff. She sighed, really jonesing for the coffee inside. The little shit was such a clever, clever boy. Check and mate.

The elevator doors opened and Sara pushed the serving cart into a large room. She heard a whoosh as the doors shut behind her. The room was empty and she called, “Where are you, Dev?” He came out of the bedroom still dressed in the brown leather pants and gold cashmere sweater. The boots had come off though. He was barefoot. “Push that red button beside the elevator, would you?” he asked, not looking at her. She turned and pushed the button. “What does that do?” she asked. He rolled the serving cart over to the sitting area of the parlor. “Switches the elevator back to key-only operation,” he replied, “Want some coffee?” Pulling off her jacket, she said, “You need to ask?” The clone didn’t answer. He poured her a cup of coffee and set it down on the table by one of the chairs. While he poured coffee for himself, Sara dropped into the chair and picked up her coffee. She took a big gulp and sighed. Still holding the cup, she said, “I should have warned you that I told Vicki. I forgot. It didn’t occur to me that she’d spring it on you before I got a chance to prepare you.” There was a long pause. He still wasn’t looking at her. Finally, the wide, golden eyes lifted to meet hers. “Why did you tell her at all?” he asked, “She’s not linked to us through the Blade, Sara. She’s under no obligation to keep our secrets. She could use what you’ve told her to destroy me, or is that what you wanted?”

She frowned. “Okay. I think you need to rein it in here, sparky,” she said, “I think you’re just a little paranoid. Vicki isn’t a reporter for some supermarket rag. She isn’t a scout for Jerry Springer. She’s my friend. She would never do anything to hurt me.” He stood and started to pace. He was still too upset to stay still. “She has no reason to protect me though, does she? I have no reason to feel safe now that you’ve put this knowledge into her hands,” he growled, “I wanted a friend. Now, she wants to study me like I’m some fancy bug under a magnifying glass. Like Immo.” Sara stood too, coffee forgotten. “Now, just hold on there,” she hissed, “Vicki is nothing like Dr. Immo.” She watched him prowl around the room like a caged tiger close to feeding time. She studied him a bit longer and other thoughts started to come together. “It’s more than just that Vicki knows, isn’t it?” she asked, “It’s because I told her without asking you. Is that it?” Finally losing his momentum, Devian wandered over to the desk and dropped into the chair behind it. “Over the last few days, especially after last night, I had almost forgotten what I was,” he murmured, “I almost began to feel like I was just a man pursuing the woman I love. I almost started to believe that you saw me that way too.” Sara dropped her eyes. “I do,” she lied. Devian snorted and shook his head. “Bullshit!” he snarled, “You see a bargain basement knock-off of Ian that the Blade forced you to fuck. It felt really, really good when we did it so now you’re confused; especially because you’re body and your bracelet are telling you to do it again.” He lifted his head and asked, “How am I doing?” The golden eyes were so bleak that it tore at her heart; especially since his assessment was so brutally accurate.

Sara went to him. She didn’t want to be the person that he had just described. Standing beside the chair, she pushed her hand into his thick, silky hair and pulled his head close to press against her belly. She felt his warm breath through the thin cotton of her sweater and a red flag shot up somewhere in her brain. Sara felt the heat pool at her right wrist and knew what was coming. For one second, an image darted past her already impaired mental processes. In her head, she saw herself yanking the Witchblade off of her wrist and pitching it across the room; but it was only a passing picture and not reality. The Blade stayed where it was; on her wrist, pulsing energetically and sending out waves of mind-numbing lust. Dev moaned her name softly and he lifted his face to press his mouth over her left breast. Through her sweater and bra, she could feel his hot tongue, his sharp teeth, as they grazed and teased her nipple. It felt incredible and her back arched to bring her closer to his wonderful mouth. She felt his long fingers gliding up her back, under her sweater. One handed, he deftly unhooked her bra and she gasped when her breasts fell free. Those warm, agile fingers now moved from back to front and found her other breast. They went to work on her right nipple while his mouth still worried the left. “Dev..” she groaned. She felt the beautiful, shaggy head shake against her. “Shh,” he whispered, “Just let it happen. You can’t stop it anyway. We’ll deal with the pain after. Give us one last time together. Please.” Another gush of agonizing need swamped her and she knew he was right. She couldn’t stop it this time any more than she could the last. Her jeans were soaked with arousal. Her clothes felt heavy, uncomfortable, itchy; she wanted his mouth, his hands on her bare skin. The clothing had to come off right now.

“Take my clothes off,” Sara gasped, “Hurry!” Dev’s hand snaked up to grip her neck, pulling her mouth down to his for a searing kiss. When they pulled apart, panting, he breathed, “I’ll undress you, but I won’t hurry. Not this time.” Eyes blazing and darkened to smoky amber with passion, the clone pulled back to gaze up at her. “Lift your arms,” he ordered. She did. Keeping his hands in constant contact with her skin, he bunched her sweater and bra in his hands and slowly dragged them up and over her head. Feeling cool air on her exposed skin, Sara sighed with pleasure, her nipples hardening and puckering. He dropped the garments on the floor and bent forward to give his undivided attention to her breasts. She pushed the fingers of both her hands deep into his thick, silky locks and held his head against her chest. He had turned in the chair and now Sara was standing between his spread knees. His hands gripped her firm butt cheeks, one to each, pulling her close. While his talented mouth pleasured first one nipple, then the other. Sara began to squirm under his hands, pushing her hips forward. He got the message immediately. His mouth still busy, Dev shifted his hands around to the front to open her jeans. When they were undone, he stopped for a moment to push them and her panties down to her feet. She moved a hand to his shoulder for balance and stepped out of them. She kicked off her shoes. Sara let out a startled shriek when he lifted her off her feet to sit her on the desk in front of him. “Put your feet on my shoulders,” he murmured. Her eyes went wide. “What?” she squeaked. His incendiary golden gaze burned through her. “You heard me,” he hissed. Sara put her bare feet on his shoulders. Dev rolled the chair closer to the desk, forcing her to bend her knees. “Lay back,” he directed. She didn’t even ask this time. She just did it. The next things she felt were his soft lips, long tongue, and sharply erotic teeth all over the dripping slit of her sex. As the Blade pulsed, sensations too complex to describe shivered through her. She was lost.

She felt his tongue push deep inside her while one long, stiff finger stroked her clit delicately, constantly changing the pressure and speed depending on her response. He caressed her with the second finger until it was wet and slippery; then, he slipped it beneath her and gently pushed it inside her behind, slowly pressing deep. Sara had never felt anything like what he was doing to her. She was pinned between his tongue thrusting deep in the front and his finger thrusting deep in the back, with his other finger playing her sensitive nub like a violin. She couldn’t hold out long against the onslaught. She came, screaming his name this time, her hips lifting high off the desk. When she could think again, she felt his warm hands rubbing her hips soothingly. She shifted a little on the desk and his hands released her as he sat back. She realized that she was soaked with sweat, her hair damp. She lifted her head to look at him, watching her now from the chair. Her bracelet was still sending out fireworks and two things occurred to her: he was still fully dressed and she wanted him inside her, not his tongue or his finger; him. Sara sat up and leaned forward to grab the hem of his sweater. Devian caught her hands in his. “We should stop now,” he said, looking into her eyes. She could see that it was costing him an effort to say it. “You don’t really want me at all and I want you too much,” he continued, voice strained, “If we keep going, if you touch me again, it will only make it worse when you leave me.” Sara knew he was making sense. She knew that they should stop right now and she should go home to Ian. The Blade flashed a scorching vermillion so bright that they were both forced to shut their eyes against it. Simultaneously, a virtual tsunami of desire engulfed them. Devian dropped back his head and moaned, deep and guttural in the back of his throat; his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard that his knuckles whitened.

Bonelessly, Sara slid off the desk and dropped to the floor in front of the chair. She pushed his knees apart and feverishly went to work on the fastenings of his leather pants. “Oh god, please,” he begged, pushing his hips up to bring his swollen shaft in contact with her busy fingers. He needed to feel her touch even if it was still through the leather. Finally past all the fasteners, she croaked, “Lift up your hips.” His response was immediate. He was past either good sense or regret now. With some effort, she worked the tight leather down his slender hips and over his throbbing erection. Devian, of course, was wearing no underwear. Now that she was past those obstacles, she was able to pull the tight pants off him easily. Dev made a sound like a soft sob and dragged the sweater over his head, pitching it to the floor. Sara glanced up quickly. Somewhere under the fog of lust induced by the Blade, she felt concern. The clone met her eyes. The look in his smoky golden gaze was unreadable and he gave his head a tiny shake. On her knees in front of him, Sara ran her hands over the long muscles in his thighs, feeling them quiver under her fingertips. His breathing was very loud in the quiet room. She leaned forward and her hands moved behind him to grip his taut bottom. More muscles jumped under her hands. Before she took him in her mouth, she glanced up at his face. His eyes were shut and lines of his beautiful face were drawn tight with anticipation. She flicked out her tongue to lick the glistening drops from the head of his shaft and he made a low, vibrating sound from somewhere deep in his chest. Still holding his firm butt cheek tightly with one hand to keep him still, Sara brought the other hand forward to hold him, giving him long, firm strokes while she used her tongue and mouth on his balls and the head of his shaft.

Quickly out of control, Dev started to shift in the chair and she dug her nails into his bottom, hissing, “Stay still.” She felt him jump in her hand and he loosed a strangled groan, followed by his soft, desperate warning, “I can’t…” Sara stayed with him until the end this time. He was in her mouth when he came, body arching, head thrown back, crying out hoarsely. Afterwards, he went so limp that he almost slid out of the chair. She stretched up on her knees trying to look into his lowered face. “Are you okay?” she whispered. He started to reach a hand out to her and stopped. “No,” he murmured. She pushed her right hand into his thick hair, sweaty now too, to try to get him to lift his head. Another brilliant red strobe of light shot out from the Witchblade and a strong, sensual burn stole through their bloodstreams again. Sara felt a fresh burst of arousal push out of her. Dev’s head finally lifted and she looked into his shell-shocked gaze. He made a soft sound, half whimper and half groan, and she felt him begin to harden again where she was pressed against him. His eyes fluttered shut and he begged softly, “Make it stop. Please make it stop.” Sara stretched out her hand to push damp curls off his forehead. “I can’t,” she whispered, “I’m sorry. I only know one way to make it stop.” He opened his eyes and they looked at each other, coming to a silent agreement. “Just let me say it one more time,” he whispered, “Then, I promise never to say it again.” Her hand still in his hair, she gave it a little stroke, giving her permission. Loosing all his feelings into those wide, golden eyes, he whispered, “I love you, Sara.”

Sara’s own eyes shut. She couldn’t look at all that raw emotion. In spite of the manufactured lust that was whipping her body into a frenzy, she knew now as a certainty that she loved only Ian. She cared about Devian but it wasn’t love and it never would be; she also knew with absolute certainty that she would never put herself in a position to allow the Witchblade to bring them together like this again. As if in retaliation, another wave of heat swept over them. Sara leaned into his rigid body, pressing skin to skin. “Now,” she moaned. Dev dragged in a deep breath. “Stand up,” he barked. She did. He levered his long body up out of the chair and, grasping her waist with his hands, he turned her around and bent her over facing the desk. “Hold on,” he ordered, voice husky with passion. Devian pushed into her so hard that she was forced to clutch at the desk to keep her balance. When she arched her body, he went even deeper and her muscles clamped around him. He began to piston into her, thrusting hard and deep, his arms coming around her. Their bodies slapped together with a loud, wet sound in the still air of the Observatory. His hands seemed to move of their own volition; one to tease her nipple, the other to stroke her clit. Sara shut her eyes and gave herself over to him completely, this one last time. Somehow, he sensed her surrender, the way she had opened herself to him, and it drove him wild. Breath dragged from him in fevered gasps, Devian pulled her close, his body moving with hers in perfect synchronicity. He was thrusting into her so deeply that Sara thought he might just touch her heart. He changed the angle of his hips and was suddenly stroking against a spot that was pure ecstasy. She cried out and pushed herself back against him, high and hard.

The intensity built until it was impossible to sustain. Their bodies were coming together frantically, rigid with the tension that was building toward its own release. The orgasm started deep inside Sara, drawing all of her muscles tight around him and precipitating Devian’s release. She felt his hot seed shoot deep within her. The both cried out as wave after wave of devastating pleasure rolled through them. Arms still wrapped around her, still connected to her, Dev moved backward to sink into the chair, pulling Sara on to his lap. Her legs dangled just outside of his, her back was pressed to his front. She dropped her head back to rest against his hard shoulder. He tipped his head to the left to touch and rest on hers. They were both still breathing heavily. She rested her arms over his where they wrapped around her waist. They stayed like that, quiet, unmoving, for several minutes. Finally, Sara shifted a little on his lap and he hissed out a soft breath. “We’re really jammed together,” she whispered with a little trepidation. Dev sighed. “I’m in no hurry to separate from you,” he whispered back. Unspoken was what they both knew; this time would be the last time that they would ever be together like this. There would never be love between them and, from this day forward, they would never again be lovers. Sara became aware that the dominant emotion that she felt was relief. The doubts had been stilled. They were gone. She was sure. She wanted Ian. She loved Ian. Devian felt her start to draw away from him emotionally. When he felt himself start to break, he locked it down tight. There was time enough for that after she was gone. He wouldn’t let himself fall to pieces while she was here. She shifted on his lap and he gasped again. This time, she gently eased his arms away from her and she stood, separating their bodies with a soft, wet smack. “I have to go,” she mumbled, beginning to pick up her clothes.

Sara dressed, not looking at him. When she was fully dressed, she finally turned back to study him. Devian still sat naked in the chair, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His face was rigidly blank. She took a deep breath and asked, “Are you alright?” Not trusting his voice, he kept eye contact and nodded. She looked down and then raised her eyes again. “This is so hard,” she thought. She sighed. “You understand, don’t you that…” Her voice trailed off. He couldn’t stay silent this time. Holding his emotions tightly in check, he answered her. “I understand that it’s over,” he replied. There was a pause, then barking out a soft, hard laugh, he added, “That’s not right, is it. There never really was anything to end, was there; just the sex, not love. Yes, I understand.” Sara walked to the elevator and stopped, her back to him. “I wish…I’m sorry, Dev. Don’t be sad. You’ve really just started your life here. You’ll find someone of your own.” He didn’t answer her. His control was slipping and he was determined not to lose it in front of her. She pressed the button, the elevator doors opened, and she stepped on. Holding the door open, she asked again, “Are you going to be alright?” Dev took a deep breath and said very softly, “Yes. I’ll be fine. Go on home to Ian. He’s a good man. He told you to come here to me, didn’t he?” She nodded and he nodded back, as if to himself. “Please tell him I’ll meet him here tomorrow, for the memorial,” he murmured. She nodded again and said, “Bye, sparky.” She released her hold on the doors and they shut. “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered to the empty room. The clone was alone again. He finally shut his eyes and let himself break.