A Family Affair
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just having fun with them. Enjoy!
A/N: First of all, sorry for the long delay between chapters, people. Real life intruded, sapping my creative energy. That said, FAIR WARNING! This chapter contains explicit sexual situations, so if that sort of stuff bothers you, DO NOT READ ON. You've been warned, so please don't report me to ff.net!
****
Chapter 49.
"Something you said earlier has been bothering me, Nottingham," Sara informed Ian a short while later. She raised herself up onto her elbows and looked down at his bobbing head.
Pausing, he glanced up at her through a curtain of dark hair. "I must be doing something wrong," he murmured, and the vibration of his words against her nether lips made Sara's toes curl.
"Why do you say that?" she asked a tad breathlessly.
"Because instead of mindlessly screaming with pleasure, you are still thinking about our discussion."
"You're doing fine," she assured him, absently reaching down to pat him on the head before flopping back down on the bed. "But I wanna know something. You said that Irons has probably authorized the use of deadly force against me if I interfere with his retrieval goon squad's attempt to take you back to the estate, right?"
Sighing, Ian sat back on his haunches at the foot of the bed. "Yes, I did say that."
"So, what I wanna know is how is it in his best interests if they kill me? He still needs my blood to survive, right?" Sara asked, frowning up at the ceiling.
Ian got to his knees and moved between her widespread thighs again. "The Witchblade showed you Elizabeth Bronte's crypt at the estate, did It not, Sara?" he queried, his hands skimming lightly over her body. He smiled with satisfaction at the way she shivered in response to even this slight stimulus.
"Yeah, so?" Sara grinned as she felt the firm warmth of his erection against her sex, but her grin faded as realization dawned on her. "So, what you're saying is if Irons' men succeed in killing me, Elizabeth would have company in her see-through freezer."
"Yes," Ian confirmed, teasing them both by pressing to her until only the very tip of him was within her before withdrawing again.
"And Kenny would be a very happy camper because not only would he have a fresh supply of Wielder's blood, but the Witchblade would be back in his possession."
"Correct," Ian said, leaning over her and nuzzling her breasts, making Sara squirm as his mustache tickled her. "That is why I did not want you to join the fray, my love. Although I know you are an excellent fighter, there is a chance one of my assailants could get off a lucky shot."
"Well, I sure as hell don't wanna end up as a Wielder popsicle, but I also hate the thought of you facing those men alone," Sara told him, crossing her legs around his narrow hips and urging him closer with her calves. "I guess you'll just have to soften them up a bit before I join in on the fun. Besides, I've always wanted to see you in action, Mr. World's Deadliest Assassin."
"Is that so?" Nottingham murmured. He surged all the way into her with one smooth thrust, wringing a tiny cry of pleasure from her.
"Although you deviated from the lesson plan," she gasped, "I'm still inclined to give you an A for effort!"
"Only an A?" Ian panted, his thrusts swiftly increasing in pace. "That begs the question of what would it take to get an A+?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Sara managed to say before her body dissolved into paroxysms of bliss. Moments later, twin cries of completion rang out.
*****
Much later, Sara nudged Ian. "Nottingham, are you awake?"
"I am now," he muttered, rubbing his side. Naturally, her sharp elbow had jabbed him in his still-tender ribs. Wistfully, he wished that for once he could wake up next to her pain-free.
"I'm hungry," she said, sitting up and rubbing her rumbling stomach. "Could you go make me something to eat?"
Sleepily, Ian sat up, too. "You want something to eat at," he glanced at the bedside clock, "03:00 hours."
"Yes, please," she nodded. "If you recall, I didn't exactly get to digest my dinner."
"True. What would you like?" Yawning, he flung the blankets off and swung his long legs over the side of the bed.
"A ham, turkey, and Swiss cheese sandwich with lettuce and tomato -- mustard, no mayo -- and a bowl of Chicken with Stars soup," she told him.
Ian glanced at her over his shoulder inquiringly. "Chicken with Stars?"
She nodded. "My favorite. Paula included a can with the groceries. It's in the cupboard over the stove. I think I'll have some Saltine crackers, too. And a glass of milk."
"Is that all?" he asked wryly.
"And a couple of chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Hurry up, we're starving!" she whined, shoving at him with her feet.
He raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Yeah. I'm eating for two, remember?"
"And that differs from the way you usually eat how? Dinner is coming right up!" Ian added quickly as she narrowed her eyes dangerously at him.
"Thanks, baby," she grinned, snuggling back down in the bed and watching with open admiration as, naked as the day he was born, he disappeared into the other room. *However, you do realize that you're gonna pay for that last remark, don't you?* she sent.
*I guess I have it coming,* he replied. *I've only seen you eat five meals, and despite the fact that you ate enough for two people each time, that's not enough evidence to support my assertion that you always eat that way. My apologies, my love.*
*Okay, so I pigged out at my godparents' house, I'll give you that,* Sara admitted. *But I hardly ever get to have home-cooked meals and I didn't have lunch that day -- oh, wait a sec, yes I did. A bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. Hmmm. Yum!* She smiled dreamily at the pleasant memory of the delicious lunch she'd had with Danny, Vicky, and Jake at the diner near the 11th Precinct.
*Anyway, believe me when I tell you that if you hadn't been sick, you'd have had seconds of everything, too! Marie's cooking is that good,* she continued. *Yeah, granted, I ate more than my share of that omelet you made us for breakfast, but in my own defense I hadn't eaten anything for nearly a whole day so I was really, really hungry! As for those two sandwiches and the half a bag of potato chips I had at lunch, I was merely stoking my energy for the snowball fight. And, well, you know what piqued my appetite for dinner.*
*Methinks thou doth protest too much,* Ian responded, and although she couldn't see him, Sara could imagine the smirk on his face. She could definitely detect its presence in his telepathic "voice."
*Do you ever wanna have sex with me again, Nottingham? If so, I suggest you quit teasing me about my appetite.*
*Yes, Ma'am,* he replied with pleasing alacrity.
Sara heard the microwave beep, and a minute later he came back into the bedroom carrying a laden tray.
"Gimme!" she said, sitting up and holding out her hands.
Ian handed the food to her and then stretched out on the bed to watch her consume it with amazing speed. His eyes drifted shut, but minutes later he was jerked back awake by her cheery "All done!"
"A new world record!" he said beneath his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
He took the tray from her and brought it out to the kitchen, aware of her eying him lasciviously the entire way.
When he came back into the bedroom, Sara was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. Ian came up behind her and, moving aside her long hair, kissed the back of her neck.
She met his eyes in the mirror. "Think you're up for another lesson, you teacher's pet, you?" she asked, grinning at him through minty foam.
"Give me a minute," he murmured. Glancing down at himself, he saw that he was already at half-mast. "Make that 30 seconds."
Sara bent over to rinse her mouth out, deliberately rubbing her rump against his groin in the process.
Ian groaned as from one heartbeat to the next, his sex sprang to full attention. He reached around her to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, and now it was Sara who groaned.
"Take me here," she whispered, grabbing hold of the edge of the sink.
"Here?"
"Yeah. Fast and hard. Doggy-style."
He hesitated. "I am afraid I will hurt you, Sara."
"Don't worry, you won't," she said taking one of his hands and guiding it downward. His fingers delved into the springy chestnut curls at the juncture of her thighs and then into the lush folds of her sex, and he discovered that she was already slick and ready for him.
Sara moaned as he massaged her and then gasped as, without warning, he entered her from behind. She braced herself as he wrapped one arm around her slender waist and began thrusting energetically. The hand between her legs caressed her in rhythm with his movements, and within moments the tension had built to nearly unbearable levels in both of them.
"Faster!" she urged, watching him in the mirror. His handsome face bore a look of intense concentration mingled with pleasure as he increased his pace. Sara glanced at her own reflection and did a double take, almost failing to recognize the flushed, panting woman with wildly disheveled hair who stared back at her through dilated, passion-glazed green eyes.
All of a sudden, Sara came hard, a gasping cry of ecstasy escaping her throat, and if it wasn't for the corded strength of Ian's arm holding her against him, she would have fallen to the bathroom floor in a boneless heap.
When she floated back to earth minutes later, she was surprised to find that Ian was still erect inside of her. He moved slightly, and she shivered from an echo of the tremendous pleasure he'd just given her.
She met his glowing hazel eyes in the mirror again. "You deserve a reward for that one, cowboy," she breathed. "Pull out, and I'll give it to you."
"I want to come inside you, Sara," he murmured, putting both hands on her hips and rocking his pelvis against her in a manner that made her legs go weak again.
"Oh, you will. Now, much as I love the feel of you inside me, pull out. You won't be sorry," she promised.
Slowly, he did as she requested. When he finally slipped free of her, Sara turned and admired his huge, glistening length for a moment before grabbing a washcloth and a bar of soap.
"Let's just clean Mr. Hoody up, shall we?" she said, wetting the washcloth with warm water and working up a lather.
Ian sucked in his breath sharply as she gently washed her juices off his throbbing sex. He had an inkling of what she meant to do, and the very idea of it nearly made him climax right then and there.
*Aren't you curious about how you taste?* he sent, eliciting a startled look from her.
She smiled, wetting her lips. *I'm more interested in how you taste,* she replied, and, kneeling, took him in her mouth.
"Sara!" Ian gasped aloud, unprepared for the incredible sensation of her hot mouth enveloping him.
*Lucky for you we can communicate telepathically, 'cause it's kinda hard to speak with a cock in your mouth!* she chuckled. Delicately using her lips to push back his foreskin, she swirled her tongue around the naked head of his sex, dragging a loud moan from him.
"God, Sara, that feels so good!" he croaked.
*Glad you like it, lover.* She took more of him into her mouth, letting her teeth lightly graze his shaft, and he hissed with pleasure, threading shaking hands through her hair.
Sara stared up at his face as she pleasured him, observing his gratifying reactions to her ministrations. His unrestrained enjoyment of this intimate act was like a potent aphrodisiac, and she felt a gush of liquid warmth between her legs in response to it. She was very aware of the fact that Ian Nottingham had had far too little pleasure in his life, and she was determined to make up for lost time.
"Oh, I think I am coming!" Ian groaned as her tongue flicked the ultra- sensitive spot beneath the engorged head of his sex.
*Go ahead, hotshot,* Sara purred, and her wicked laugh was like a psychic caress. Seconds later, he cried out, shuddering, and she tasted his salty essence. He moaned as she milked him of every last drop, only then releasing him.
"Told you you wouldn't be sorry," Sara grinned up at him, stroking his thighs soothingly. "Let that be a lesson to you!"
Ian's hands cupped her face tenderly. "I am speechless with gratitude," he murmured, and the devotion and love that shone from his enormous eyes warmed her through and through.
Rising, Sara wound her arms around his neck. "Don't mention," she said, kissing him.
His tongue darted into her mouth, eager to discover if his taste lingered there, but he only tasted mint toothpaste.
"It's salty," she told him minutes later when they came up for air. "What do I taste like?"
"Ambrosia," he whispered.
"Oh, go on!" she grinned, delighted. "Seriously, I wanna know."
His provocative almost-smile turned up the corners of his full lips. *That's my answer and I'm sticking to it,* he sent.
*You're one smooth-talking devil, you know that, Ian Nottingham?* Taking his hand, she led him into the bedroom. *Let's get some sleep.*
*I feel as though I have the rest of my life to sleep, whereas we have precious little time left together, my love,* he responded, sighing, and his sudden melancholy made her heart ache.
*Okay, then let's cuddle for a while, and if you're so moved, I could see my way to fooling around some more,* she smiled.
*I'm always so moved by you, Sara,* Ian said, and as he slid into bed close to her, she discovered that he was once again aroused. *It appears that I cannot get enough of you.*
*Well, as you might have noticed, keeping my hands off that hot bod of yours is damn near impossible,* she told him. *I think I'm addicted to making love with you.*
*Me, too,* he murmured, kissing her.
Some time later, right before she drifted off to sleep, Sara gently nudged Ian. "Nottingham, are you still awake?"
"Yes, my love," he said instantly, his words vibrating through his chest, which was pressed against her back.
"I just wanted to tell you that I believe in you," she said drowsily. "No matter what happens, always remember that."
"I love you, Sara," Ian whispered after several long moments, during which he struggled to control his emotions. "No matter what happens, I always will." But she had fallen asleep, a contented smile on her lovely face.
More to come. Thanks, as always, for the encouraging feedback. Please, keep it coming.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just having fun with them. Enjoy!
A/N: First of all, sorry for the long delay between chapters, people. Real life intruded, sapping my creative energy. That said, FAIR WARNING! This chapter contains explicit sexual situations, so if that sort of stuff bothers you, DO NOT READ ON. You've been warned, so please don't report me to ff.net!
****
Chapter 49.
"Something you said earlier has been bothering me, Nottingham," Sara informed Ian a short while later. She raised herself up onto her elbows and looked down at his bobbing head.
Pausing, he glanced up at her through a curtain of dark hair. "I must be doing something wrong," he murmured, and the vibration of his words against her nether lips made Sara's toes curl.
"Why do you say that?" she asked a tad breathlessly.
"Because instead of mindlessly screaming with pleasure, you are still thinking about our discussion."
"You're doing fine," she assured him, absently reaching down to pat him on the head before flopping back down on the bed. "But I wanna know something. You said that Irons has probably authorized the use of deadly force against me if I interfere with his retrieval goon squad's attempt to take you back to the estate, right?"
Sighing, Ian sat back on his haunches at the foot of the bed. "Yes, I did say that."
"So, what I wanna know is how is it in his best interests if they kill me? He still needs my blood to survive, right?" Sara asked, frowning up at the ceiling.
Ian got to his knees and moved between her widespread thighs again. "The Witchblade showed you Elizabeth Bronte's crypt at the estate, did It not, Sara?" he queried, his hands skimming lightly over her body. He smiled with satisfaction at the way she shivered in response to even this slight stimulus.
"Yeah, so?" Sara grinned as she felt the firm warmth of his erection against her sex, but her grin faded as realization dawned on her. "So, what you're saying is if Irons' men succeed in killing me, Elizabeth would have company in her see-through freezer."
"Yes," Ian confirmed, teasing them both by pressing to her until only the very tip of him was within her before withdrawing again.
"And Kenny would be a very happy camper because not only would he have a fresh supply of Wielder's blood, but the Witchblade would be back in his possession."
"Correct," Ian said, leaning over her and nuzzling her breasts, making Sara squirm as his mustache tickled her. "That is why I did not want you to join the fray, my love. Although I know you are an excellent fighter, there is a chance one of my assailants could get off a lucky shot."
"Well, I sure as hell don't wanna end up as a Wielder popsicle, but I also hate the thought of you facing those men alone," Sara told him, crossing her legs around his narrow hips and urging him closer with her calves. "I guess you'll just have to soften them up a bit before I join in on the fun. Besides, I've always wanted to see you in action, Mr. World's Deadliest Assassin."
"Is that so?" Nottingham murmured. He surged all the way into her with one smooth thrust, wringing a tiny cry of pleasure from her.
"Although you deviated from the lesson plan," she gasped, "I'm still inclined to give you an A for effort!"
"Only an A?" Ian panted, his thrusts swiftly increasing in pace. "That begs the question of what would it take to get an A+?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Sara managed to say before her body dissolved into paroxysms of bliss. Moments later, twin cries of completion rang out.
*****
Much later, Sara nudged Ian. "Nottingham, are you awake?"
"I am now," he muttered, rubbing his side. Naturally, her sharp elbow had jabbed him in his still-tender ribs. Wistfully, he wished that for once he could wake up next to her pain-free.
"I'm hungry," she said, sitting up and rubbing her rumbling stomach. "Could you go make me something to eat?"
Sleepily, Ian sat up, too. "You want something to eat at," he glanced at the bedside clock, "03:00 hours."
"Yes, please," she nodded. "If you recall, I didn't exactly get to digest my dinner."
"True. What would you like?" Yawning, he flung the blankets off and swung his long legs over the side of the bed.
"A ham, turkey, and Swiss cheese sandwich with lettuce and tomato -- mustard, no mayo -- and a bowl of Chicken with Stars soup," she told him.
Ian glanced at her over his shoulder inquiringly. "Chicken with Stars?"
She nodded. "My favorite. Paula included a can with the groceries. It's in the cupboard over the stove. I think I'll have some Saltine crackers, too. And a glass of milk."
"Is that all?" he asked wryly.
"And a couple of chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Hurry up, we're starving!" she whined, shoving at him with her feet.
He raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Yeah. I'm eating for two, remember?"
"And that differs from the way you usually eat how? Dinner is coming right up!" Ian added quickly as she narrowed her eyes dangerously at him.
"Thanks, baby," she grinned, snuggling back down in the bed and watching with open admiration as, naked as the day he was born, he disappeared into the other room. *However, you do realize that you're gonna pay for that last remark, don't you?* she sent.
*I guess I have it coming,* he replied. *I've only seen you eat five meals, and despite the fact that you ate enough for two people each time, that's not enough evidence to support my assertion that you always eat that way. My apologies, my love.*
*Okay, so I pigged out at my godparents' house, I'll give you that,* Sara admitted. *But I hardly ever get to have home-cooked meals and I didn't have lunch that day -- oh, wait a sec, yes I did. A bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. Hmmm. Yum!* She smiled dreamily at the pleasant memory of the delicious lunch she'd had with Danny, Vicky, and Jake at the diner near the 11th Precinct.
*Anyway, believe me when I tell you that if you hadn't been sick, you'd have had seconds of everything, too! Marie's cooking is that good,* she continued. *Yeah, granted, I ate more than my share of that omelet you made us for breakfast, but in my own defense I hadn't eaten anything for nearly a whole day so I was really, really hungry! As for those two sandwiches and the half a bag of potato chips I had at lunch, I was merely stoking my energy for the snowball fight. And, well, you know what piqued my appetite for dinner.*
*Methinks thou doth protest too much,* Ian responded, and although she couldn't see him, Sara could imagine the smirk on his face. She could definitely detect its presence in his telepathic "voice."
*Do you ever wanna have sex with me again, Nottingham? If so, I suggest you quit teasing me about my appetite.*
*Yes, Ma'am,* he replied with pleasing alacrity.
Sara heard the microwave beep, and a minute later he came back into the bedroom carrying a laden tray.
"Gimme!" she said, sitting up and holding out her hands.
Ian handed the food to her and then stretched out on the bed to watch her consume it with amazing speed. His eyes drifted shut, but minutes later he was jerked back awake by her cheery "All done!"
"A new world record!" he said beneath his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
He took the tray from her and brought it out to the kitchen, aware of her eying him lasciviously the entire way.
When he came back into the bedroom, Sara was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. Ian came up behind her and, moving aside her long hair, kissed the back of her neck.
She met his eyes in the mirror. "Think you're up for another lesson, you teacher's pet, you?" she asked, grinning at him through minty foam.
"Give me a minute," he murmured. Glancing down at himself, he saw that he was already at half-mast. "Make that 30 seconds."
Sara bent over to rinse her mouth out, deliberately rubbing her rump against his groin in the process.
Ian groaned as from one heartbeat to the next, his sex sprang to full attention. He reached around her to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, and now it was Sara who groaned.
"Take me here," she whispered, grabbing hold of the edge of the sink.
"Here?"
"Yeah. Fast and hard. Doggy-style."
He hesitated. "I am afraid I will hurt you, Sara."
"Don't worry, you won't," she said taking one of his hands and guiding it downward. His fingers delved into the springy chestnut curls at the juncture of her thighs and then into the lush folds of her sex, and he discovered that she was already slick and ready for him.
Sara moaned as he massaged her and then gasped as, without warning, he entered her from behind. She braced herself as he wrapped one arm around her slender waist and began thrusting energetically. The hand between her legs caressed her in rhythm with his movements, and within moments the tension had built to nearly unbearable levels in both of them.
"Faster!" she urged, watching him in the mirror. His handsome face bore a look of intense concentration mingled with pleasure as he increased his pace. Sara glanced at her own reflection and did a double take, almost failing to recognize the flushed, panting woman with wildly disheveled hair who stared back at her through dilated, passion-glazed green eyes.
All of a sudden, Sara came hard, a gasping cry of ecstasy escaping her throat, and if it wasn't for the corded strength of Ian's arm holding her against him, she would have fallen to the bathroom floor in a boneless heap.
When she floated back to earth minutes later, she was surprised to find that Ian was still erect inside of her. He moved slightly, and she shivered from an echo of the tremendous pleasure he'd just given her.
She met his glowing hazel eyes in the mirror again. "You deserve a reward for that one, cowboy," she breathed. "Pull out, and I'll give it to you."
"I want to come inside you, Sara," he murmured, putting both hands on her hips and rocking his pelvis against her in a manner that made her legs go weak again.
"Oh, you will. Now, much as I love the feel of you inside me, pull out. You won't be sorry," she promised.
Slowly, he did as she requested. When he finally slipped free of her, Sara turned and admired his huge, glistening length for a moment before grabbing a washcloth and a bar of soap.
"Let's just clean Mr. Hoody up, shall we?" she said, wetting the washcloth with warm water and working up a lather.
Ian sucked in his breath sharply as she gently washed her juices off his throbbing sex. He had an inkling of what she meant to do, and the very idea of it nearly made him climax right then and there.
*Aren't you curious about how you taste?* he sent, eliciting a startled look from her.
She smiled, wetting her lips. *I'm more interested in how you taste,* she replied, and, kneeling, took him in her mouth.
"Sara!" Ian gasped aloud, unprepared for the incredible sensation of her hot mouth enveloping him.
*Lucky for you we can communicate telepathically, 'cause it's kinda hard to speak with a cock in your mouth!* she chuckled. Delicately using her lips to push back his foreskin, she swirled her tongue around the naked head of his sex, dragging a loud moan from him.
"God, Sara, that feels so good!" he croaked.
*Glad you like it, lover.* She took more of him into her mouth, letting her teeth lightly graze his shaft, and he hissed with pleasure, threading shaking hands through her hair.
Sara stared up at his face as she pleasured him, observing his gratifying reactions to her ministrations. His unrestrained enjoyment of this intimate act was like a potent aphrodisiac, and she felt a gush of liquid warmth between her legs in response to it. She was very aware of the fact that Ian Nottingham had had far too little pleasure in his life, and she was determined to make up for lost time.
"Oh, I think I am coming!" Ian groaned as her tongue flicked the ultra- sensitive spot beneath the engorged head of his sex.
*Go ahead, hotshot,* Sara purred, and her wicked laugh was like a psychic caress. Seconds later, he cried out, shuddering, and she tasted his salty essence. He moaned as she milked him of every last drop, only then releasing him.
"Told you you wouldn't be sorry," Sara grinned up at him, stroking his thighs soothingly. "Let that be a lesson to you!"
Ian's hands cupped her face tenderly. "I am speechless with gratitude," he murmured, and the devotion and love that shone from his enormous eyes warmed her through and through.
Rising, Sara wound her arms around his neck. "Don't mention," she said, kissing him.
His tongue darted into her mouth, eager to discover if his taste lingered there, but he only tasted mint toothpaste.
"It's salty," she told him minutes later when they came up for air. "What do I taste like?"
"Ambrosia," he whispered.
"Oh, go on!" she grinned, delighted. "Seriously, I wanna know."
His provocative almost-smile turned up the corners of his full lips. *That's my answer and I'm sticking to it,* he sent.
*You're one smooth-talking devil, you know that, Ian Nottingham?* Taking his hand, she led him into the bedroom. *Let's get some sleep.*
*I feel as though I have the rest of my life to sleep, whereas we have precious little time left together, my love,* he responded, sighing, and his sudden melancholy made her heart ache.
*Okay, then let's cuddle for a while, and if you're so moved, I could see my way to fooling around some more,* she smiled.
*I'm always so moved by you, Sara,* Ian said, and as he slid into bed close to her, she discovered that he was once again aroused. *It appears that I cannot get enough of you.*
*Well, as you might have noticed, keeping my hands off that hot bod of yours is damn near impossible,* she told him. *I think I'm addicted to making love with you.*
*Me, too,* he murmured, kissing her.
Some time later, right before she drifted off to sleep, Sara gently nudged Ian. "Nottingham, are you still awake?"
"Yes, my love," he said instantly, his words vibrating through his chest, which was pressed against her back.
"I just wanted to tell you that I believe in you," she said drowsily. "No matter what happens, always remember that."
"I love you, Sara," Ian whispered after several long moments, during which he struggled to control his emotions. "No matter what happens, I always will." But she had fallen asleep, a contented smile on her lovely face.
More to come. Thanks, as always, for the encouraging feedback. Please, keep it coming.