by Lex
DISCLAIMER:
1. This is smut. And angst. Do not look for any socially and/or morally redeeming qualities in this story. It is just a little exploration of how Buffy reacts to Angelus. RATED NC-17. This means if you are under eighteen, go make your mommy read it first and explain the nasty bits to you. If you have issues with blood, sex and violence together, then this is NOT the story for you.
2. I own neither of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, who I would be more than willing to marry if he would allow me to pick his brain from time to time. They are not mine, I'm just borrowing them, and I promise to return them unharmed when I am done.
"You've got a lot to learn about men, kiddo."
The words rang in Buffy's mind, echoing even in her sleep. She twisted, trying to escape the sound of his voice, but the mocking tone refused to be ignored. Scenes flashed before her eyes, Angel holding her, telling her he loved her, *Angelus* trying to kill Willow, Angel looming over her as he entered her for the first time. She whimpered, remembering the tender expression in his eyes as he changed her body permanently, making her a woman.
"ANGEL!" She sat up in bed and screamed his name, sobbing, the tears streaming down her face. All of a sudden, she felt his arms around her, holding her, keeping the pain at bay. She slumped against him, resting her slight weight against his strength. She was so groggy...there was something she needed to remember, but she didn't know what.
"Are you all right, Buffy?," Angel inquired as he shifted her around in his arms.
"Yes," she sobbed, clutching him to her. "Oh, Angel, I had the worst dream, that you were your old self, that you were evil, and you hurt me, you said all these awful things to me and I wanted to die from the pain." The words poured out of her, cleansing the horror right out of her soul.
All of a sudden, his hands, his large, gentle hands, gripped the back of her neck painfully and tilted her head so that his eyes met hers. With a sinking stomach, she met his eyes.
"Oh God," she moaned, trying to twist away from the hate she saw blazing there.
"God is definitely not going to help you now, girlie." He laughed, a grating, bitter noise. "You wanted me, princess, you got me."
"Not like this, Angel, not with you...like this. I love you." , she whispered achingly.
"Oh, you love me," he mocked. "Oh, how on *earth* could I forget that bit of mind boggling news. It's ever so important to me, you know."
The hurt flared up in her eyes and she tried to jerk from his grasp, but he twisted them around so that he lay on top of her on her bed, using his weight to press her into the mattress.
"Get away from me...go bother Drusilla. I'm sure she wants you."
"Oh, but you do want me, Buffy. You love me. You love me so much that you let me have your precious virginity. Not anything tremendously exciting, but I did so enjoy the blood you shed for your love." He reached a hand down her body, catching the hem of her little nightgown and dragging it up her thighs.
"You wanted me then, Buffy, when I was your pet vampire, your beloved Angel," he mimicked "Now I'm baa-aack, better then ever, and you *still* want me."
"No," she denied it, "I could never want you like this...you repulse me now."
"Oh, _really_. Is that a gauntlet being thrown down, my love? A challenge, even? Well, never let it be said that I ever refused a challenge."
His lips swooped down, catching hers in a violent kiss. Buffy tried to evade him, but he held her down and forced her lips open to allow his tongue entrance to her mouth. She whimpered as her lip split under the assault. Her blood filled her own mouth, salty and rich. Angelus groaned as the taste poured over his senses. He pushed harder, forcing her to respond to him. She tried to close her mouth, to eject him from her body as she could not from her heart, but underneath the pain and the fear and the hurt lay the very basic lust that had always been between them. Angelus knew this and exploited it for all that it was worth.
He ran a hand up from her thighs, to her breasts, where he found her nipples hard, aching with desire. "Oh, you want me, Buffy. I bet you're all wet with wanting me." He pinched them roughly, eliciting a pained gasp from her.
Buffy shuddered as his tormenting fingers trailed down from her breasts to her center, which wept and begged for him. He grinned evilly as his fingers encountered her wetness. She moaned and arched her head back, unwittingly tempting the fiend that crouched above her. Abruptly, his fingers vanished from her warmth, only to be replaced with his cock.
Harshly, he shoved her thighs apart and thrust into her. She gasped and clenched around him, even as her mind berated her for what she was doing. He pushed her thighs far apart in an attempt to get as deep inside her as he could. Buffy wrapped her thighs around his hips, her legs tangling together, encircling him. She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the sight of the creature fucking her, the demon with the face of the only man she had ever loved. In her mind, she tried to turn him back into Angel, back into her love, but he sensed this and forced her to open her eyes.
"It's me, Buffy, the real me, not some pathetic human wanna-be. That's who's inside of you, spreading your thighs apart, making you come. And you know what, Buff? I want to hurt you like you hurt me."
"I never hurt you, Angel, IloveyouIcouldneverhurtyou," her words began to run together as he sped up his thrusts, dragging her ever closer to her unwilling climax.
"You tried to make me *human*!" he spit the words out as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.
Suddenly she arched beneath him, gasping his name. "Angel...," she moaned as the tears streamed down her face, the orgasm ripping through her body not nearly as strong as the agony taking over her heart.
As she clenched and unclenched rhythmically around him, milking him, he let out a howl of combined pleasure and rage. He swooped down to her neck, baring it and biting in one quick motion.
Buffy stiffened as the pleasure streamed through her. She could have never imagined how good it felt to be drained as Angelus was draining her now. Her body exploded anew in orgasm, as she felt him delve deeper inside of her, hips pumping. He came with a shout, his muscles corded, his head thrown back, gripping her hips so tightly she could feel the bruises already beginning to form. His brain shut down from the pleasure and he slumped on top of her.
When he came to, it was to the feeling of her little fingers tracing the tattoo on his back, just stroking his skin, as she had always done. He moved his head so he could look at her. She turned her head aside so that he could not see the naked longing displayed there.
This return to humanity, if even for a moment, enraged him. He reared up, lashing out at her, striking her in the face.
"DAMN YOU!," he shouted at her as he fled from her bed.
"I'm already damned," she replied dully as she wiped the blood from her nose, seeping from where he had struck her. "It seems that no matter what you do, I still love you."
Angelus looked at the girl sitting on the bed, trying to cover herself with the tatters of her ravaged nightshirt, and felt an unwilling spark of feeling for her. Maybe it was the damned soul of Angel, crying out for his beloved, but whatever it was, it refused to let him do her any more harm. He turned to leave her weeping on her bed when he caught a glint out of the corner of his eye. His hand reached out to snag the item.
It was the claddaugh ring *Angel* had given her just days before. A symbol of their love. His mind screamed at him to crush the bit of silver underneath his boot heel, but that cursed spark refused to allow him to do it. Instead, he placed it in his pocket, and vaulted out the window, into the night that had spawned him.
THE END.
(For now, at least.)
I really, truly exist for feedback. PLEASE drop me a line at alexisvc@earthlink.net.
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