"Blood Seduction"

Still attempting to catch her breath, Sara glared up at the suddenly aggressive clone poised above her. Annoyed, she effortlessly slipped back into the position that she found most comfortable in their relationship – anger. Dev did not, however, give her time to build up a good head of steam. Before she could blast him, he lowered his long, hard body on to hers and covered her open mouth with his, kissing her passionately. Devian’s torrid embrace made her lightheaded. When he finally released her tongue to nibble and suck on her bottom lip, she gasped, trying to grab some oxygen while bright, red sparks danced behind her closed eyelids. When she managed to regain a bit of composure, she realized that it was so dark because the clone had her sweatshirt up over her head. A second later, her face was once again free. From the corner of her eye, she watched her shirt sail majestically to the bedroom floor. Determined to give him back some of his own, she gripped his broad shoulders and dug in her nails. Angling her face into the curve where his neck joined his shoulder, she bit him hard and then licked the imprint of her teeth on his smooth skin. After dropping back down on the pillows, she studied him through lowered lashes to gauge his reaction.

She was a bit miffed when Devian’s only response to her deep love bite was a soft hiss. That was immediately followed by a roguish grin that made her stomach flutter. “Still hungry?” he asked. It wasn’t clear whether he was referring to the pizza they had recently finished or a different sort of appetite entirely. Relinquishing her brief fit of pique, Sara lifted her brow. She caught the back of his boxers with her fingertips and dragged them down to bare the sculpted cheeks of his bottom. She was awfully glad that when Colin Silk had beaten Dev, he had kept the lashes to the clone’s back above the waist. It would have been a pity to scar what was beyond doubt a world-class ass. “You are very tasty, Sparky,” she pointed out. He bent to nuzzle her neck and she tensed to be bitten. But he didn’t bite. Instead, he extended his pink tongue and gave her one long lick that left a moist trail from the base of her neck to the nipple of her right breast.

Reaching that destination, he lifted his shaggy head slightly to murmur against her skin, “You can have your fill, baby.” He tilted his head sideways to wink at her, adding, “After I’ve had mine.” Sara pushed her fingers into his silky, tangled mop and gave his hair a sharp tug. “What ever happened to ladies first?” she asked. His reply was muffled against her skin as he began to skillfully suck her sensitive nipple with excruciating eroticism. “This is a bed, Sara,” he mumbled drolly, “Not a lifeboat.” That drew a gasping chuckle from her, almost against her will. Her humor was abruptly swallowed in acute sensation. A high cry escaped her when he repeatedly scraped his teeth lightly across the tender surface of her swollen nub.

Devian gave her a brief respite while he shimmied lithely out of his boxers and casually kicked them to the floor. They had been getting in his way. He was always more comfortable without the restriction of clothing and, to give Sara the benefit of all his abilities, he wanted to be as mobile as possible. He wanted to dazzle her. Before she had really had much of a chance to regain her equilibrium, the clone put his talented mouth back to work on her other breast. A few minutes later, Sara arched her back, digging her fingers into his thick curls spasmodically. “Jeez,” she hissed, as her body began to twitch uncontrollably, “Take it easy, Sparky. I can’t…” The rest of that sentence was lost in a long, ululating moan as he made her come for the first time. Dev lifted his head to check her flushed face. Her head was limply turned into the pillow; her face shiny with perspiration, cheeks bright, and eyes shut. Her breasts were flushed rosy red. She was panting loudly and looking gob smacked. The clone allowed himself a quick grin before he got back down to business. “That’s one,” he thought; now, it was time to get rid of her sweatpants and really pull out all the stops.

Dev shifted on the bed and caught hold of the leg of her pants. “Lift your hips,” he ordered. Instead, Sara lifted her head to gaze at him blearily. “What?” she asked. He kept his head down so that she wouldn’t see his satisfied grin. “Your hips, Sara,” he repeated, “Lift them up so that I can take off your pants.” When she didn’t move, he looked up and their eyes met over the length of her body. Although the clone hadn’t yet stripped her, he was now positioned at the level of her groin and it was quite obvious what his next target was going to be. Sara raised her upper body to lean back on bent elbows; her full breasts were thrust forward, her thick mane was tumbled around her face; and her brilliant, green eyes were still glazed with passion. Devian stopped breathing – she literally took his breath away. The next few seconds passed like an eternity while the reality of the woman that he loved so desperately overwhelmed him. With his spirit connected to hers, he could sense Sara’s desire for him and it thrilled him.
Physically, he found her so enthralling that his already engorged sex throbbed and jumped until he was so hard that it was deliciously painful. Intellectually, she challenged him to stay alert so that he could shift his seduction at a moment’s notice just to keep up with her. He had belonged to her utterly from the moment that she first touched him. Dev swallowed hard and quickly lowered his head before she could see how weak his love for her made him. She could wound him easily with a careless frown or a harsh word as she already had many, many times before.

The clone bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, using the pain to wrestle his emotions back under control. If Sara sensed his weakness, she would take control of their lovemaking in a heartbeat. Dev had other plans. Tonight, he was going to drive and she was the one who was going to get driven. Tonight, he was going to show her how much pleasure he could give her. He was going to prove to her that he was every inch the man that Ian was and just as worthy of her love. The clone sighed as the usual traitorous doubts immediately assailed him; well, he amended to himself, at least he was going to try. Devian suddenly realized that the object of his speculation had recovered and was studying him curiously. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve sprouted horns?” she asked. Dev took a deep breath to steady himself before he grinned wickedly and replied, “Maybe you have. It could only be your tail that’s keeping those pants on you. I can’t think of any other reason. I’ve asked you twice now to push up so that I can get the damn things off you.” Her eyes narrowed. She was just about to let him have it when the air whooshed out of her. Sara clutched the mattress as her hips went up to be balanced on his shoulder. The clone held her tight against him with one hand while the other efficiently stripped her sweatpants down her legs and over her feet. The offending garment sailed through the air to join the growing pile of discarded clothing on the bedroom floor.

The sound that emerged from Sara as he unceremoniously dumped her back down on the bed was closest to “Ooof.” She looked up at him; honey hair tumbled over her face, eyes and mouth open wide; still too stunned to launch the explosion that was inevitable. Devian found the look on her face priceless. However, he only appreciated it for a moment before committing it to memory. He knew that he had to move fast if he wanted to retain control and keep the momentum going. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Sparky?” was all she got out before her question turned into a breathless wail. The cry was caused by the unbelievable things that the sneaky clone was now doing with his very clever tongue. He no longer had to ask her to arch her hips; they were arching alright. His mouth was magic. Sara held on to the mattress with one hand while the fingers of her other hand pushed back into his silky curls. “Oh, my god!” she gasped when she felt him slip two long fingers deep inside her. Far within her, he skillfully stroked in sensual counterpoint to the incredible things that he was doing to her clit with his talented tongue, lips, and teeth. The clone didn’t lift his head until her muscles clamped so hard that they nearly cut off the circulation in his fingers. This orgasm made Sara wail like a banshee and pull one of Dev’s curls out by its roots. “That’s two,” he thought as he rubbed his burning scalp.

When Sara could once again string two thoughts together, she marveled at the intensity of the climax that she had just experienced. Almost purring, she extended her arms sinuously above her head to stretch her lissome body. She was tingling from the tips of her hair down to the points of her toes. Dev crouched on his haunches beside her with his hands resting loosely on his thighs. He was still spectacularly erect and a small, satisfied smile teased the edge of his sensual lips. His prominent manhood drew her eyes like a magnet. “Oh, baby. I want some of that,” she thought, reaching for his straining shaft. With a soft laugh, the clone batted her hand away. “Why not?” she asked, pouting a little, “Isn’t that starting to be uncomfortable?” Devian tilted his head, his smile deepening. “Because I’m not finished yet,” he replied, “And I’m just fine, thank you. I’ve had a lot of experience with delayed gratification. You should know. You’re the one that taught me that skill.” She frowned. “Are you trying to piss me off, Sparky?” she asked him ominously. The clone shook his head. Sara pushed up on her elbows again and studied him for a moment. Smiling, she bent forward to draw one nail slowly up the long muscle in his thigh all the way from his knee to his groin. Hardly impervious, his tawny eyes narrowed, he sucked in a shaky breath, and several portions of his anatomy jumped.

With a triumphant gleam in her green eyes, Sara moved her hand to the left, burrowing between his muscular thighs until she cupped his sac in her hands. She squeezed his balls gently. Devian shut his eyes and whispered raggedly, “Jesus.” He opened those wide, tiger eyes. They smoldered and she suddenly thought of a snippet from a poem by William Blake:

“Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”

She was still lost in the bestial allure of his golden gaze when he mused, “You go right for the jugular, don’t you, Pez?” She grinned, looking pointedly at the location of her hand and the part of him that rested in her palm. She chuckled. “If this is your jugular, where does that put your brain, Sparky?” she asked, enjoying herself. He snorted, able to appreciate the irony. “Just about where you’d expect it to be right now,” he confirmed, adding sharply, “Let go.” She was so startled by his tone that she automatically did as he asked. Lightning quick, he rolled on the bed to push her flat again and resume his former position between her legs. His face a hot breath from her crotch, the clone regarded her now; looking directly up the length of her body with a wild gleam in his sparkling eyes. “How’s your endurance, baby?” he asked, putting the stress on the pronoun. Sara raised her head from the mattress and pushed out her chin. She was always ready for a challenge. “My endurance is just fine…baby,” she hissed, “A match for yours any day of the week.” The clone gave her that sexy grin that was so quintessentially male. It infuriated and excited her in equal parts. Before she was aware of his intention, Dev lowered his head to give her a long, invasive, and decidedly delicious lick with his arched tongue that slid from her clit to her vaginal tunnel and back again. Swamped in sensation, Sara loosed a guttural moan that vibrated against his lips. When Dev lifted his head, he was again wearing that smug smile that goaded her. “Put out or shut up,” he challenged. Sara struggled to catch her breath so that her voice would be steady. When it was under control again, she shot back, “Meaning?”

Still giving her that infuriating grin, he challenged, “I bet you can’t keep quiet while I play.” Her emerald eyes narrowed. “Sure I can,” she countered. His grin got broader and her eyes got narrower. “Think so?” he asked. He was deliberately being cocky as hell. Although his choreography of their sexual encounter was largely instinctual, the clone did have a general game plan. This time, he was trying to engage Sara’s mind and personality, as well as her body. Most of their previous couplings had been rather primal affairs during which she shared her body with him but little else. Devian knew that her intimate encounters with Ian were very different; he knew that courtesy of the largely unwanted insight granted by the Witchblade’s connection. When Sara made love to Ian, she shared her heart, spirit, and mind as well as her body. The clone wanted that too; he wanted more of the woman that he loved. So, he was trying to turn sex between them into a game for her; he was attempting to give her a challenge so that she would relate to him as more than a sophisticated sex toy. He wanted to engage her brain and her personality as well as her body. Dev pretty much figured that her heart was beyond him; that belonged to his brother and if there was a path there for him to ensnare it as well, it was hidden from him. If he was very, very lucky, he might stumble upon it by accident but right now it was an unknown route that lay deep in uncharted waters.

Caught up in the game, Sara replied, “If I do it, you have to do it too. Deal?” Devian frowned. It was a sucker bet for her. She knew that whenever she went down on him, he lost control; her effect on him was devastating. Each of the few times that she had performed oral sex on the clone, she had had to warn him to be quiet so that they weren’t embarrassed by the noise that he made. Dev swallowed hard, trying to tough it out, and nodded. He had no idea how he was going to hold himself together. The touch of Sara’s hand made him shudder. When she applied her mouth to him, the clone experienced a complete melt down. “What’s the prize?” she asked. He was still trying to get his head around how he was going to win this challenge. “Prize?” he repeated distractedly. Sara smirked at him. “Yeah, prize,” she responded, “What do I get if I win?” Interested now, he countered with his own question. “What do you want?” he asked. She had to think about that for a few minutes. Looking thoughtful, Sara sat up and drew her legs up under her, crossing them. The clone frowned, pushing himself up on his arms, and objected, “Hey!” He was still poised between her legs, ready to go. She was slipping away from him again.

Sara held up one slender hand and then pointed an accusing finger toward him. “You asked what I wanted, Sparky,” she pointed out. He sighed; that had obviously been a mistake – a big one. He couldn’t back out now without looking like it was only the sex that interested him; and that was actually the polar opposite of how he felt. He wanted her to talk to him; he did want to know the answer to that question; only he was afraid of her answer. He feared that it did not include him. His shoulders hunching tensely, Dev pulled his long body upright to sit across from her. His position exactly mirrored hers. Steeling himself, the clone tilted his head and said, “Okay. Go ahead. Tell me. What do you want?” He stretched a little, like a big cat. His body was feeling achy and heavy; geared toward seduction rather than conversation. His libido was still trying to figure out how they had gone so quickly from unbridled passion to introspective discussion. Sara nodded slowly and waved a dismissive hand, saying, “I haven’t thought this all the way through yet. Okay? So, just listen while I ramble a little and don’t interrupt me until I finish.” She looked to him for confirmation and the clone tipped his head in a quick nod, indicating that she should continue. She lowered her head, collecting her thoughts.

Sara absently pulled the sheet up to cover her exposed breasts, holding it at her collarbone with folded hands. The clone made no move to cover himself; in fact, her sudden modesty made him smile. Fortunately, she was still trying to gather her thoughts and she didn’t notice his amusement. By the time that she lifted her head to look at him, Dev’s expression was appropriately serious. “I think the Witchblade is manipulating us – you, Ian, and me – in very subtle ways,” she said, “I didn’t notice at first because I’m used to It being more dramatic in the ways that It gets my attention.” He tilted his head. “You’re talking about the visions,” he mused. She nodded, adding, “And the connection. The way that we all share sexual sensations that the others are feeling. According to Ian, that used to happen with both him and Irons too whenever I…” She suddenly stopped, embarrassed. Devian grinned. “Whenever you entertained a gentleman caller?” he suggested. She smirked, appreciating his wit. “Yeah,” she agreed, “Anyway, you couldn’t really call the Blade’s mode of communication delicate.” He shrugged. “Forgive me if I’m being obtuse,” he replied, “But I don’t see how that’s changed. Granted, there haven’t been any visions lately but I think that’s largely because we’re shut away from the rest of the world. As far as the connection goes, I can testify that it’s working just fine. When you’re with Ian, I feel it; as much or as little as I allow past my defenses.”

She waved a dismissive hand and said, “I’m talking about something else.” Now, he lifted a dark, arched brow to indicate that he was listening. “This feeling that both you and Ian have that we need to share a bed,” she continued, “Is that what you’d call it, a feeling?” He cleared his throat, stifling a grin because he knew his humor would piss her off right now. “I guess ‘feeling’ is as good a term as any,” he replied, “Although I might suggest that the push is a bit stronger than that. And, just to clarify, the ‘feeling’ I got wasn’t about just sharing a bed; it was about making love in that bed, all three of us.” Sara glanced down as color rose in her cheeks. When she looked at him again, her attitude was a bit confrontational. “I think the Blade nudged you and Ian because It knew that you two would have less trouble with that than I would,” she said, almost daring him to contradict her. The clone grinned. “If we’re being honest, I’d rather have you to myself,” he admitted, “If it’s sharing or nothing, then I’ll share. But as far as the moral aspect of being three to a bed, you’re right. That doesn’t bother me at all.” She frowned and murmured, “It doesn’t seem to bother Ian either. That’s what I mean. This kinky sex stuff is easier for a male to deal with.” He fought to keep the amused glint from his tawny eyes and failed. “That’s a pretty sweeping generalization,” he teased, “I imagine that there are some men that might find it offensive and some women that might be eager for the opportunity.” She frowned and he struggled to rein himself in again; there was no point in annoying her.

“Yeah,” she said, “But we’re not talking about any other people here. We’re talking about us – and the Witchblade knows exactly who It is dealing with.” Devian nodded. “Point taken,” he agreed. Sara studied her hands where they were clasped to her chest. “I’ve been getting a feeling too,” she revealed, “Not a vision; more like a strong push to make something happen.” When she looked back at him again, she saw that she definitely had captured the clone’s interest. The thick-lashed, golden eyes were wide, studying her raptly. “What is it?” he asked, “What is the Blade pushing you to do?” Now, she smiled. If he was looking for a supernatural directive to promote more exotic sexual communion between them, he was going to be really disappointed. “I think that I got this one because women are more naturally nesters than men,” she mused, “Although, in all truth, I’ve never had strong leanings in that direction.” He loosed a soft, surprised exclamation before replying, “The Witchblade is urging you to create a nest?” She had to admit that, when he put it that way, so bluntly, it sounded pretty bizarre. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” she admitted. Dev waved a hand to indicate that she should continue.

Sara took a deep breath and dove in. “I keep seeing all of us living together at the mansion,” she explained, “I see us functioning as this highly specialized, extended family that forms a support network for the kids.” Devian tilted his head and asked, “All of us? Define ‘all of us.’ Who do you mean?” She blinked and hesitated, wondering how this was going to go over. Then, she thought, “What the hell…” Aloud, she responded, “You, me, Ian, Vicki, Moby, Gabe, and the babies, of course. I think there’s someone else – a woman – but I can’t quite get a handle on her.” He frowned. “You’re seeing this?” he asked, immediately adding, “Then it is a vision.” Sara shook her head. She looked rather frustrated. “No,” she tried to clarify, “It isn’t a vision. I don’t ‘see’ it the way I do when the Blade sends me a vision. It’s more like I know that this is the way things are supposed to be and it’s up to me to make it happen.” He smiled knowingly and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I get that feeling.” They stared at each other for a couple of moments. “So,” he murmured, studying his long fingers, trying to appear casual, “I’m still with you. Is there more to this setup that the Blade is promoting?” Sara nodded. He tried unsuccessfully to read her expression before he urged her, “Go on.”

Sara took a deep breath. “As far as I can tell,” she continued, “I’m going to be the Wielder for a long while yet; at least, until our daughter reaches her maturity.” Dev blinked, trying to hide the thrill that shot through him when Sara had so offhandedly used the phrase: “our daughter.” Sara frowned. Through their connection, she had felt his quick surge of adrenalin. She studied him, trying to figure out what she had said to prompt that response. When the reason abruptly occurred to her, she had to smile. “We’ll all have our role to play,” she went on, “I’ll go back to work as soon as I’m able. As the Wielder, I’ll need to be out in the world as I have been. And we’ll all need to keep danger away from the children for as long as we possibly can.” He nodded; that made sense. “And the rest of us?” he asked. Her green eyes narrowed a little before she said, “Ian will be their teacher, their guide, I think. He’ll be their mentor, teaching them the lore of the Witchblade as he tried to teach me.” His golden eyes had darkened to amber and now they narrowed too. “Okay,” he murmured, “I can see some of the rest of it. Vicki is the science division, taking over Immo’s role as head of R&D. Mobius handles security, setting up a network to protect them. Gabe is the brains; researching the past and figuring out strategies for the future. So, where does that leave me? What role do I play in this mix?”

Sara sucked in another breath before she set it out for him; she wasn’t sure how he was going to take this. “You become the mogul that you originally wanted to be,” she replied, “Remember? You take over Vorschlag. You build the empire that the Wielder and Protector will inherit. You add the power of Irons’ billions to the power of the Witchblade.” She looked in his tawny eyes, trying to read his reaction. The clone’s expression was bland; his eyes were shuttered. Tilting back his shaggy head, he hitched one broad, bare shoulder. “I’m not averse to becoming a corporate tycoon,” Dev drawled, “As you pointed out, it was the original plan. On the other hand, I would no longer be happy married to the business. I’ve learned to crave human connections and I’m not willing to relinquish them for the sterile joys of empire building. While Ian is nurturing our family close to home, I’m going to be living at the office, in boardrooms, and on jets. Will I have anything or anyone to come home to, Sara?” This was the objection that she had expected from him; she wasn’t at all surprised when he voiced it. His eyes had darkened to amber; from past experience, she knew that indicated strong emotions simmering under the surface. “Tell him the truth,” she ordered herself. Aloud, Sara replied, “I don’t know, Sparky. I guess that’s up to you. I’ll admit that I’m conflicted about leaving the babies with Ian to go back to the job; just as I’d be conflicted about leaving the job to stay with the babies. I guess that we’ll find a way to make it work – both you and I. That’s the answer, isn’t it? It’s up to us to find a way.”

Devian nodded. “Good answer,” he said. Then frowning, he added, “It’s not going to be easy.” Sara shook her head. “When the babies are born, life as all of us know it is going to change drastically,” she confirmed, “It’s not going to be easy for anyone.” Driven to ease some of the worry that she saw tightening the strong lines of his beautiful face, she took his hand in hers and rested it on the small, but pronounced, mound of her stomach. “I think there might be some surprises though that make all the trouble worthwhile,” she murmured, giving him a tentative smile. Right on cue, their daughter kicked. Sara watched Dev’s eyes spark, lightening from deep amber to rich gold. His smile was so dazzling it prompted her to catch her breath. The clone bent forward to rest his bearded cheek gently against her sheet-covered belly. He turned his face to press a soft kiss on her tummy. “Hello, my darling Mags,” he whispered, “Daddy loves you and can’t wait to hold you in his arms.” Sara felt an uncharacteristic warm and fuzzy feeling envelope her and extend to embrace the clone. She dug her fingers into the tousled curls that still rested carefully against her. She stroked his scalp the way she knew he loved and Devian emitted a low purring sound. “Mags?” she asked as she caressed him.

“Don’t laugh,” he mumbled, his breath warm through the thin sheet. “I won’t laugh,” she promised, “Tell me.” Dev nuzzled her belly. Somehow, one of his hands had insinuated itself under the sheet. It was slowly gliding up the inside of her leg. She smiled and tugged at his silky hair. “Tell me,” she repeated. It was hard to hear him with his face pressed against her tummy and his words muffled by cloth and skin. “You’re going to name her Magdalena Marie,” he whispered, “But I’ll call her ‘Mags’.” Sara slipped her hand from his hair down to cup his bearded chin. She gently lifted his face so that she could see his eyes. “How do you know what I’m going to name her?” she asked. Beneath the sheet, his long fingers had reached the juncture of leg and torso. Eyes lowered, he slipped his fingers in the heated folds of her slick slit and began to rub her skillfully. Sara sucked in a ragged breath and hissed, “Come on, Dev. Tell me.” The clone pulled himself slowly up the bed until he was stretched out facing her. His arm was still under the sheet and his fingers had found their rhythm. Another orgasm was building and Sara had started to pant. “Sparky?” she pressed breathlessly. Keeping up his relentless strokes, the clone nuzzled her neck and nipped her earlobe. “When Silk was beating me, I kind of went to another place,” he whispered in her ear, “I saw her. I held her in my arms. I knew what you had named her but I also knew that she’d always be Mags to me. Don’t ask me how. I just knew. Are you laughing?” She had made another soft, strangled sound.

“No,” she panted, “I’m not laughing. I’m…” The rest of her words evaporated in a high-pitched wail as Sara climaxed again. Face buried in her hair, the clone moved his hand from her groin to rest on her hip while he regrouped. “That makes three,” he thought. With her body reeling from aftershocks and her breathing still ragged, she rolled on to her side to face Dev. He watched her from hooded eyes. His tousled head was resting on one arm, which was bent beneath his head. His other hand still idly stroked her hip. She bent forward to brush his parted lips with hers; he tasted dangerous. Studying his languid pose, Sara lifted a hand to brush an errant curl back from his forehead. He gave her that slow smile that made primal things low in her belly twitch. “Are you trying to turn me into your love slave by making me come a couple of times?” she teased. Expression serious, he corrected her, “Three – so far. Is it working?” She laughed. “You set me a challenge before we got sidetracked,” she reminded him. Devian tilted his head. “You’re a sly one,” he responded, “I thought that you had forgotten that entirely.” Sara shook her head. “Not likely, Sparky,” she returned, “I’m always up for a good face-off. We were determining the prize, I think.” His hand traced a teasing path from her hip to the nipple of her right breast. Drawing lazy circles around the sensitive nub, he murmured, “As I recall, I had just made the mistake of asking you what it was that you wanted.” She made a face at him while trying to still the shivers that he was now sending down her spine.

“What do you want if you win?” Sara countered, adding, “Not that that’s likely.” Devian growled out a throaty chuckle and observed dryly, “Pride cometh before the fall. I do, however, know exactly what I want if I win our little challenge.” He went silent then to build a bit of suspense. She pushed up on her elbow and punched his taut bicep in mock annoyance. He winced; the Wielder didn’t know her own strength. “So?” she urged him, “What is it? Give.” He grinned and replied, “When we bring Irons down and we’re free to move about out in the world again, I want to take you out on a real date – just you and me. I want to have you all to myself for the whole night. Agreed?” She looked a bit bemused. “We’ve never had a date?” she asked, stalling. Devian snorted. “Sara, our encounters have all tended to be rather hot, quick, and slippery,” he pointed out, “With locations like the top of a desk or the edge of a sink.” She blushed as those memories danced their way across her mind’s eye. “A date, huh?” she mumbled, “You mean like dressing up, going out to dinner, having a drink. That kind of stuff?” His golden eyes narrowed. “I mean going along with whatever I plan for us and sticking with me until it’s over,” he clarified, “Is it a deal?” Sara sucked in a deep breath and acquiesced. “It’s a deal,” she agreed.

“And you?” Dev asked, “What do you want from me?” She studied him, her mood serious again, and the clone suddenly shivered as if a chill wind had blown over his long, naked limbs. He looked back at her, tiger eyes now wary and shoulders tight with dread. “Just tell me,” he whispered tensely. She nodded and said, “If, at some point in the future, I decide that I only want a monogamous relationship with Ian, I want your promise that you’ll bow out gracefully; no guilt, no regrets, no drama. Is it a deal?” He turned his head away to hide the hurt. It had, of course, never entered her mind that she might come to desire a monogamous relationship with him rather than Ian; it was always his brother, never him. And, here she was, already setting him up for a clean exit when they hadn’t begun to explore what it might be like to be true lovers. He wanted to break something, even as he realized that the impulse was childish. The clone clenched his fists, digging his nails sharply into his palms. He stayed that way for several moments, rigid muscles all along his hard body standing out in sharp relief. Then, he let it go. Dev knew that he could never make her love him just by wishing that it were so. If she no longer wanted him, there was no point in hanging on. He shrugged. What did it matter? He couldn’t force her to want him once she was finished with him. “Deal,” he whispered harshly, adding, “As long as my withdrawal does not include our daughter.” She turned, trying to see his face but it was still averted. “No, of course not,” she assured him. He nodded then; just a tiny tilt of his head that was like a benediction.

Suddenly, like a cobra striking, he swung around, pushing her back down into the pillows and pinning her shoulders to the bed with strong hands. Sara gave another little yelp of surprise. Annoyance followed that almost immediately. However, her sharp retort went unsaid when a sense of vague disquiet skittered along her nerve endings. She was taken aback by the distinctly feral gleam in the clone’s tawny eyes and the tight set of his sensual lips. With typical bravado, she tamped her unease down to ask petulantly, “What do you think you’re doing, Sparky?” Devian’s smile was predatory and she noticed for the first time that his eye teeth pointed sharply; in fact, they looked very much like fangs. “Taking my turn finally,” he replied, adding, “I’m going to make you scream with pleasure, Sara, until the whole house hears you. I’m going to make your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl up with ecstasy. You’re not going to win this bet, baby!” She sniffed loudly with obvious disdain. “Yeah, right,” she drawled, dismissing his warnings as idle boasts. The clone readied himself. He meant what he had told her. Sara had hurt him one too many times and he was determined to give her a graphic demonstration of the unique talents of the man that she was so cavalier about throwing away.

“Time?” Devian asked. Sara considered that for a few seconds before countering, “Half an hour?” He nodded. “Done,” he said, then added, “Remember, Sara. If you make a sound during that time – a single moan, groan, sob, or cry – then I win.” Her brow lifted. “Can I breathe?” she asked. He grinned back at her. “You bet,” he replied, “You can even pant. You just can’t voice your passion.” She studied her nails before she said, “Assuming that I feel any, that is.” The clone’s wide, golden eyes narrowed. “That’s cold, love,” he purred, starting to sinuously shift his long body closer to hers. Sara shut her eyes when she felt the heat coming off of him; the clone felt like a blast furnace. With her eyes still closed, she tried to find a quiet, safe place within while his hot, wet tongue slid slowly around the inside of her ear. At the same time, the sole of his foot moved up and down her calf and his clever fingers traveled back to their favorite playground. Slipping a couple of those long fingers deep inside her and working her clit with his thumb, Dev didn’t waste any time turning her body back into a volcano building toward eruption. When he flipped over deftly to roll between her legs and replaced his thumb with his mouth, she knew that he was right. She was a goner.

Devian played her as if she were a Stradivarius and he were Isaac Stern. Caught in the sweet, unyielding undertow of an inevitable orgasm, she pushed her head back into the pillows. At the same time, her slender hips lifted her sex up like a chalice for Dev to drink with his glorious mouth. Wondrous sensations scrambled across her nervous system as the clone brought her to the edge of climax, only to ease off and let her down gently. Before she had a chance to recover, he started again; only this time, he brought her to the ledge over the precipice much faster because she was so ready. Sara clutched the tangled sheets beneath her with white-knuckled fists as she felt a cry of pure ecstasy bubble up in the base of her throat. Sara fought it back as her body screamed for release. A soft, strangled gurgle escaped her. Dev lifted his head just high enough to grin before putting his mouth back down to suck her clit between his teeth and tongue. This time, it was more than Sara could stand. She went careening over the cliff to fall head over heel into a chasm of incredible sensations. She struggled desperately to keep her passionate cry silent. She almost succeeded. But, right at the last moment, the clone lowered his face back to her and sucked hard. It was too much. Her climax was very, very intense. She came with her whole body rigid and arched. As she did, a thin, high-pitched scream was dragged out of her.

The clone didn’t gloat. He gathered her into his arms. Wrung out, Sara clung to him limply, her entire body shaking. Devian gently stroked her hair. He felt vindicated, content for this one moment in time. With her head wedged between his chin and shoulder, and her face resting in his silky hair, she gasped, “You win.” Dev pressed his warm lips to the top of her head. “I know,” he replied softly. He left it at that. He had no need to rub her nose in it. It was enough that he could make her lose control like that. Sara cuddled closer to his hot, hard body, slipping her leg between his. She wanted to be skin to skin. “Jeez,” she whispered, “What did you do to me?” The clone stroked her back gently, soothingly. As passionate as he had been before, he was tender now. “I love you, Sara,” he whispered back, “That’s all. It moves mountains I’m told.” His voice was amused as he added, “I wasn’t sure about you though. After all, a mountain is child’s play compared to you.” She snuggled even closer to his beautiful body, letting her own hands start to roam it as she observed, “You’re such a smart ass, Sparky. It’s a good thing that you’re so pretty. It’s your saving grace.” She gently rubbed his molded abs before her fingers traveled down his flat belly to play in the short, crisp hair below. When she wrapped her hand around him, she smiled at his soft intake of air. “And now it’s your turn to squirm,” she said.

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.