A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking around and reading my story. I hope you
all enjoy this next chapter and don't forget to review. =)
Twilightmyst-I would have sent you an email but you didn't post it. So in answer to your question, no I don't mind you reviewing each chapter.
~*~
Ian looked around the elevator. They were still stuck and from the information he had received from security they would be for another hour. He continued to kneel in front of Sara. He waited patiently until the blade saw it fit to release the wielder from her vision. Ian looked up to the sound of a small gasp escaping Sara's lips. Her eyes glazed as tears began to descend, leaving wet streaks down her face. Ian could tell that Sara was still in her visions. He looked down at the glowing red stone wondering what was it showing Sara this time. There was no anger reflected in her eyes or the feel of disdain that had once coursed through her body and into his. But the tears continued to roll down her face. Using the pads of his thumbs Ian began to gently wipe them away. He let his gaze roam over Sara's facial features.
'Do you find her striking?'
A query once asked by his master. Striking wasn't exactly the word Ian used when he encountered Sara at the Midtown museum. So many words ran through his mind. Beautiful that she is was too common of a word and Sara was not a common woman. Breathtaking maybe; yes she did have that effect on him. He hadn't realized he held his breath until the tightness of his chest was evident. Captivating most definitely was another word he would have used to describe Sara. He stood frozen when she entered the hall. She was unaware of his presence there, taking the opportunity he let his eyes travel over the woman who's will and courage radiated from her tantalizing form.
Finally he managed to move his rooted legs over to her. He stood just behind her until his reflection caught her attention. The moment her fiery emerald eyes locked with his the one word that managed to justify what he felt about her escaped his lips.
'Magnificent isn't it.' It was more of an admission to him rather then a question she misinterpreted towards the Witchblade.
'Sorry Sir, You shouldn't be here.' It was the last and only time Sara ever showed concern for his safety. From a secured distance Ian watched the shoot out unfold before him. Within the blink of an eye the day ended with an explosion and the Witchblade on the wrist of the next wielder. That night he called Mr. Irons about Sara Pezzini.
'You won't be disappointed. She is everything you said she'd be.'
Ian was right Sara Pezzini was not a disappointment. She far exceeded his expectations. He knew the moment he seen her and their eyes locked this was 'the' woman. The true wielder of the Witchblade. Mr. Irons had expected someone docile and susceptible to his every whims and desires. Ready to take control over her and the blade. But she was a lioness, indeed a fearless woman to be reckoned with. Yes Sara Pezzini was not a disappointment, not in Ian's eyes.
With one hand Ian lightly traced the contours of Sara's face with his fingertips. Smoothing out the worry lines on her forehead. Moving lower he smiled as he outlined the arch of her eyebrow. Remembering how the simple rise of the fine line would speak volumes. Ian let his fingers travel lower still. Wishing he could rub away the dark circles under her eyes due from restless nights and lack of sleep. He grinned as his finger outline the slope of her nose. 'How can this woman as tough as she is have such an adorable nose?' Ian thought.
Another teardrop rolled down her face. Ian caught the tear between his fingers, watching as he rubbed it together as the water dissolved into his skin. He brought his finger to his lips tasting the distinctive bitter salt that was left on his finger. He hated to see his lady cry. Remembering the number of times he had seen her weep over the lost of a loved one or the pressures of life finally taking its toll. In his vigilance he had longed to hold her in his arms as she cried herself to sleep. Wishing he could just simply embrace all the pain and let it dissolved into him. He was used to it, he was no stranger to it, and he was willing to accept it. But Sara, though tough as she might seem, was still vulnerable.
'Concealed vulnerability' It had been one of the many traits that attracted the Witchblade to Sara.
Ian used his fingers to wipe and dry away the tears on her face. Reveling in the feel of her soft, smooth skin. His fingers grazed down the expanse of her cheek and down to her chin. Recalling the many times she would lift it in defiance to those who would dare go against her Irons in particular. There was no one who would go against him. Those that did lived a rather short life. Which brought Ian much satisfaction that there was someone brave enough to stand against the 'Iron' man.
Finally he let his fingers travel over the fullness of her lips. They were still slightly parted as he used his thumb to trace over them. He craved to have the richness of her mouth against his. To have her tongue trace over his lips, taunting them open so she could delve deeper into his mouth. His desire to taste her was overwhelming. Ian did not see the intense red glow of the stone or hear it hiss on Sara's wrist.
He watched Sara's reaction as he leaned in closer. To his surprise she closed her eyes and lifted her face closer to his. Head slightly tilted and lips just a mere breath apart Ian closed his eyes. The thought that he may once again be besieged by the visions he had encountered wasn't evident in his mind. All he had wanted was a chance to kiss his Lady Sara. The warmth of their breaths mingled together. He sighed as he felt the warm, tender feel of her lips against his.
His shock was evident in a sharp gasp when she started to kiss him back. Being inexperience in such an intimate act he let Sara take control. Ian was in tears when Sara forced her tongue between his lips and teeth. The touch of her tongue with his was intoxicating. The hand that adorned the Witchblade lifted up to cover over Ian's left hand that still cupped her cheek. Ian was too lost in the kiss he didn't feel the tendrils of the blade wrap around his wrist. It was until the sharp ends of the tendrils dug into his wrist.
Ian suddenly pulled back from Sara's kiss as he felt the biting marks of the blade pierce through his skin and into his wrist. He watched wide-eyed, as the blade tasted his blood. With the initial pain gone Ian was soon assailed with visions, memories, and emotions of past lives. Ian tried to blink back the haziness he felt. His head was pounding, his heart rate was racing, and he could feel his entire body becoming heavy.
The tears in his eyes blurred his visions of Sara. Quickly remembering the kiss they shared. No, they did not share a kiss. Because Sara's mind was not aware of what had transpired. It was simply her body reacting to his and the cruelty of the blade. Sara would have never let that happen. Never.
~*~
Twilightmyst-I would have sent you an email but you didn't post it. So in answer to your question, no I don't mind you reviewing each chapter.
~*~
Ian looked around the elevator. They were still stuck and from the information he had received from security they would be for another hour. He continued to kneel in front of Sara. He waited patiently until the blade saw it fit to release the wielder from her vision. Ian looked up to the sound of a small gasp escaping Sara's lips. Her eyes glazed as tears began to descend, leaving wet streaks down her face. Ian could tell that Sara was still in her visions. He looked down at the glowing red stone wondering what was it showing Sara this time. There was no anger reflected in her eyes or the feel of disdain that had once coursed through her body and into his. But the tears continued to roll down her face. Using the pads of his thumbs Ian began to gently wipe them away. He let his gaze roam over Sara's facial features.
'Do you find her striking?'
A query once asked by his master. Striking wasn't exactly the word Ian used when he encountered Sara at the Midtown museum. So many words ran through his mind. Beautiful that she is was too common of a word and Sara was not a common woman. Breathtaking maybe; yes she did have that effect on him. He hadn't realized he held his breath until the tightness of his chest was evident. Captivating most definitely was another word he would have used to describe Sara. He stood frozen when she entered the hall. She was unaware of his presence there, taking the opportunity he let his eyes travel over the woman who's will and courage radiated from her tantalizing form.
Finally he managed to move his rooted legs over to her. He stood just behind her until his reflection caught her attention. The moment her fiery emerald eyes locked with his the one word that managed to justify what he felt about her escaped his lips.
'Magnificent isn't it.' It was more of an admission to him rather then a question she misinterpreted towards the Witchblade.
'Sorry Sir, You shouldn't be here.' It was the last and only time Sara ever showed concern for his safety. From a secured distance Ian watched the shoot out unfold before him. Within the blink of an eye the day ended with an explosion and the Witchblade on the wrist of the next wielder. That night he called Mr. Irons about Sara Pezzini.
'You won't be disappointed. She is everything you said she'd be.'
Ian was right Sara Pezzini was not a disappointment. She far exceeded his expectations. He knew the moment he seen her and their eyes locked this was 'the' woman. The true wielder of the Witchblade. Mr. Irons had expected someone docile and susceptible to his every whims and desires. Ready to take control over her and the blade. But she was a lioness, indeed a fearless woman to be reckoned with. Yes Sara Pezzini was not a disappointment, not in Ian's eyes.
With one hand Ian lightly traced the contours of Sara's face with his fingertips. Smoothing out the worry lines on her forehead. Moving lower he smiled as he outlined the arch of her eyebrow. Remembering how the simple rise of the fine line would speak volumes. Ian let his fingers travel lower still. Wishing he could rub away the dark circles under her eyes due from restless nights and lack of sleep. He grinned as his finger outline the slope of her nose. 'How can this woman as tough as she is have such an adorable nose?' Ian thought.
Another teardrop rolled down her face. Ian caught the tear between his fingers, watching as he rubbed it together as the water dissolved into his skin. He brought his finger to his lips tasting the distinctive bitter salt that was left on his finger. He hated to see his lady cry. Remembering the number of times he had seen her weep over the lost of a loved one or the pressures of life finally taking its toll. In his vigilance he had longed to hold her in his arms as she cried herself to sleep. Wishing he could just simply embrace all the pain and let it dissolved into him. He was used to it, he was no stranger to it, and he was willing to accept it. But Sara, though tough as she might seem, was still vulnerable.
'Concealed vulnerability' It had been one of the many traits that attracted the Witchblade to Sara.
Ian used his fingers to wipe and dry away the tears on her face. Reveling in the feel of her soft, smooth skin. His fingers grazed down the expanse of her cheek and down to her chin. Recalling the many times she would lift it in defiance to those who would dare go against her Irons in particular. There was no one who would go against him. Those that did lived a rather short life. Which brought Ian much satisfaction that there was someone brave enough to stand against the 'Iron' man.
Finally he let his fingers travel over the fullness of her lips. They were still slightly parted as he used his thumb to trace over them. He craved to have the richness of her mouth against his. To have her tongue trace over his lips, taunting them open so she could delve deeper into his mouth. His desire to taste her was overwhelming. Ian did not see the intense red glow of the stone or hear it hiss on Sara's wrist.
He watched Sara's reaction as he leaned in closer. To his surprise she closed her eyes and lifted her face closer to his. Head slightly tilted and lips just a mere breath apart Ian closed his eyes. The thought that he may once again be besieged by the visions he had encountered wasn't evident in his mind. All he had wanted was a chance to kiss his Lady Sara. The warmth of their breaths mingled together. He sighed as he felt the warm, tender feel of her lips against his.
His shock was evident in a sharp gasp when she started to kiss him back. Being inexperience in such an intimate act he let Sara take control. Ian was in tears when Sara forced her tongue between his lips and teeth. The touch of her tongue with his was intoxicating. The hand that adorned the Witchblade lifted up to cover over Ian's left hand that still cupped her cheek. Ian was too lost in the kiss he didn't feel the tendrils of the blade wrap around his wrist. It was until the sharp ends of the tendrils dug into his wrist.
Ian suddenly pulled back from Sara's kiss as he felt the biting marks of the blade pierce through his skin and into his wrist. He watched wide-eyed, as the blade tasted his blood. With the initial pain gone Ian was soon assailed with visions, memories, and emotions of past lives. Ian tried to blink back the haziness he felt. His head was pounding, his heart rate was racing, and he could feel his entire body becoming heavy.
The tears in his eyes blurred his visions of Sara. Quickly remembering the kiss they shared. No, they did not share a kiss. Because Sara's mind was not aware of what had transpired. It was simply her body reacting to his and the cruelty of the blade. Sara would have never let that happen. Never.
~*~