AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lwilson@idir.net
RATING: NC17
SUMMARY:Set right after Shot in the Dark 3, Buffy and Angel get a few things sorted out. (TEAOW&S)
CONTENT: Language, graphic sex
DISCLAIMER:I don't own Buffy and friends or Buffy the Vampire Slayer; they're owned by Joss Whedon and the WB Network. No copyright infringement intended so please don't sue, even though I hate them right now. <G>
DEDICATION:To all those who commented on Buffy's kicking Angel in
the family jewels in part 3, beware the rollercoaster ride ahead
<G> And a special dedication to Morgan for sending me a tape of
GD2. I hope you like this.
Her mind awhirl, Buffy climbed in her window, fully expecting to find Angel. Her room was empty. Her heart pounded in fear and she ran down the hall to her mother's room. Carefully opening the door, she sighed in relief at hearing a soft snore. Returning to her room, she spied a note on her pillow. With a shaking hand, she picked it up and read it.
'My place.'
Dropping the note, Buffy turned to face the mirror, then picked up her hairbrush and pulled it through her hair, trying not to think about the consequences of her earlier actions. Setting the brush down, she spritzed some vanilla cologne on her wrists and neck, then turned back to the window.
As she climbed back down the roof, she wondered if she'd ever see this place again.
*****
The mansion seemed deserted. It was about ten o'clock at night and Buffy assumed all the vampires were out hunting or doing whatever else vampires did. Silently she climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to Angel's suite. Opening the door and stepping inside, she found him sitting on a settee, sipping from a goblet.
Angel gave her a hard look, then jerked his head towards the other room. Taking a deep breath, Buffy walked past him into the bedroom. Mechanically she undressed, setting each item of clothing neatly on a wooden chair. Naked, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Angel still facing away from her, drinking.
Walking to the bed, Buffy lay down on her back, trying to relax, trying not to think about what her punishment might be.
*****
Angel left her there for nearly thirty minutes. When he entered the bedroom, he found her trying not to fidget, her breathing ragged, perspiration dotting her forehead.
"So, how should I punish you?" he asked casually, his fingers working the buttons on his shirt. She remained mute, her eyes huge in her pale face. "Should I chain you to the posts of the bed and whip the skin from your back? Or maybe turn you over my knee and spank you like a spoiled brat? Or maybe take a switch to your tits and your cunt? Hm?"
Buffy swallowed hard and shook her head slightly.
Tugging his shirt from his shoulders, Angel glared at her, growling softly. "There you lay like a fucking martyr, waiting for me to punish you for kicking me in the balls. Do you really want me beating the shit out of you?"
"No," she replied in a strangled voice.
"Then don't act like you want it. I will do it if you give me no other choice. I'll take that whip over there..." Buffy's eyes followed the direction his finger was pointing and she gasped at the sight of a thick whip laying curled on the dresser. "...and lash your back open, then fuck you in the ass until we're both covered in your blood. And I'll get off on it, but I doubt you will," he said harshly.
"I...don't want that." Slowly she pulled herself into a sitting position.
"So, what DO you want, Buffy?" Angel crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed.
"I don't want you to hurt me."
"That doesn't answer my question," he snapped.
Swallowing hard, Buffy slid from the bed and walked over to him. "I want to make love with you." Tears filled her eyes and she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest, over his heart. "I...hate you."
Angel's arms slid around her back, his hands caressing her gently. "Keep hating me, love," he answered, his voice husky with need. "I adore your hate. It makes you hot and hungry." Lifting her off her feet, he lay on her on the bed, following her down. As his hands slid over her flushed skin, his mouth caught hers in a deep kiss.
Buffy responded helplessly, hating herself, hating him, needing him so desperately. As their tongues dueled and their lips twisted together, her fingernails scraped down his back, making him groan into her mouth.
Settling between her open legs, Angel undulated his leather- clad erection against her wet cleft, eliciting whimpers of pleasure from her. Her nipples hardened, rubbing against his smooth, muscular chest, and her knees bent, opening her body wider for him.
All thought, all guilt, all pain fled and she reveled in the lust he aroused in her so easily.
Pulling back from her, Angel quickly unfastened his pants and eased them over his erection. Buffy gasped at the deep bruising that had yet to heal. Sitting up, she turned on her knees and urged him onto his back. Lowering her head, she placed a gentle kiss on the ugliest bruise, making him hiss through clenched teeth.
Carefully, she lapped at his cold flesh with her hot tongue, teasing him and causing him to arch his back. Opening her mouth, she slid it over the weeping tip, sucking gently yet firmly. Her hands tugged the pants farther down, then slid under his ass, raising him slightly so she could kneed his taut buttocks as her head began to bob.
Grunting, Angel reached for her, tugging her up his body. "Don't want to come in your mouth."
"Does it hurt?" she whispered against his mouth, peppering his face with hot kisses, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty again.
"It'll hurt worse if I don't fuck you in the next thirty seconds."
Straddling his body, Buffy rose to her knees, splaying her hands on his chest for support. She watched as he used one hand to guide his cock to her hot entrance, then sank down slowly, engulfing him in her wet inferno.
Closing her eyes as lust tightened in her womb, Buffy began to ride him, gently, her inner muscles fluttering around his cock. Angel's hands cupped her ass, squeezing her soft flesh, helping her rise and fall on him.
As she leaned forward, angling so that her clit rubbed against the hairy base of his cock, Angel lifted his head and captured one pert nipple between his teeth, worrying it until she moaned and bounced harder.
Feeling his body tense beneath her, Buffy squeezed her vaginal muscles tight, driving his cock to the edge of her womb. Pumping his hips, his hands slamming her down on him, Angel growled and came, filling her in hard thrusts.
As he began to deflate inside her, Buffy moved off of him, curling next to his cool body.
Angel turned on his side and looked down at her red face, her heaving breasts. "You didn't come." Her eyes slid away from him. "What?" he asked sarcastically. "You don't think you deserve to come?"
Reaching down his body, Buffy encircled his half-hard cock with her hand and pumped it gently.
"Stop it," Angel growled. "Answer my fucking question." He groaned as he became erect again.
"Just fuck me," she whispered, her voice emotionless.
Infuriated by the sudden change in her attitude, Angel flung her onto her back and climbed between her sprawled legs. Lifting her ass, he impaled her on his cock, thrusting brutally into her. "Is this what you want, Buffy? Is this what you think you deserve?" He pounded into her several more times, watching her eyes close, her lips press together. "Or since you can't seem to look at me, maybe I'll just fuck you like an animal, huh?" Pulling his cock out of her, he turned her onto her stomach. "Get your ass up, bitch, NOW."
Obediently, Buffy moved to her hands and knees, her head down, her hair dragging the pillows. Angel's hands forced her legs wider apart, then his cock filled her again. He pounded hard, slamming his pelvis against her ass, driving his cock into her tight passage. He knew he had to be hurting her, but she didn't make a sound.
With a loud cry of angry satisfaction, Angel came, slamming his cock into her until it grew limp. Pulling out of her, he rolled her onto her back, glowering down at her and asking harshly, "What the fuck is your problem?"
Buffy's eyes remained closed, but little breathy sobs were issuing from between her lips. "Can I go home now?" she asked finally, her voice soft and thready.
"No. I don't like you like this, Buffy. I don't fucking want you like this."
"Then maybe Willow will be more to your liking." Buffy rolled onto her side, facing away from him.
Angel stared at her back. "This is about Willow?" His voice was somewhat less harsh.
Buffy felt her heart constrict as her failure reared its ugly head inside her. Pressing her fists against her closed eyes, she tried to breathe normally. "I AM a whore," she finally said, her voice sad and low. "I let you steal my best friend out from under me, let her bargain with her life. I come to you and let you fuck me without love or even caring. I don't love you. You don't love me. It's...not how it's supposed to be. We fuck like animals...and I enjoy it. It's wrong. It's wrong of me to enjoy it, to want it, to look forward to it. It's wrong that fucking you, the orgasms you give me, fill the empty space inside me."
Tears began to leak from her sore eyes and she sniffed before continuing. "I've betrayed everything, my calling, my race, my friends, my watcher. I let a monster fuck me. I wake up most mornings with cold cum leaking out of me. I go to school covered in bruises from hard fucking a vampire. I let you live to kill then come to me and kiss me, your mouth tasting of human blood."
"I don't deserve to be a Slayer," she finished in a whisper.
Angel stared down at her trembling body, at a loss for words. He could see from the slump of her shoulders, could hear in the empty tone of her voice, that she was heading back down to the depression from which she finally had seemed to have recovered.
He couldn't let that happen. He didn't like her like that. He wanted her feisty and mouthy...and hot and horny for him.
"Can I go home, please?" she asked again, tears evident in her voice.
Suddenly Angel was terrified of what she might do if he let her go. Reaching into the night stand drawer, he dragged out a pair of handcuffs and quickly straddled her, chaining one wrist to the heavy cast-iron headboard. "No." Swallowing hard, he looked down into her sad eyes.
"Okay." Those eyes closed again and her hand lay limp in the cuff. She wasn't even trying to free herself.
Panicking, Angel rose from the bed, yanking his pants back up and refastening them. Running one shaky hand through his hair, he left the bedroom.
Drusilla perched on the edge of the settee, her back to him.
"Fuck," he hissed, as his world spun out of control.
"Your Slayer needs you to love her," Drusilla said softly, not looking at him. "She will go mad soon, mad like me."
"Dru..."
"She's all hurting inside, all empty and sad. Empty, her heart is dead and empty."
Carefully Angel knelt in front of her and met her wild gaze. "How long have you known, Dru?"
She shrugged, her lips pressed tightly together. "No one wants me. No one loves me."
"That's not true." Gently he stroked her hair, brushing a few loose strands back from her pale face.
"You love the Slayer. You won't admit it, but you do. I want to kill her," she said simply. "But, that wouldn't make you love me again." Tears filled her huge eyes and she collapsed into Angel's arms. "I don't want you to love the nasty Slayer. It's wrong, very, very wrong."
"I don't love her, Dru," Angel replied, his voice strangled by emotion, as his hands caressed her trembling back.
"You do. I can see it. Not like the old you did, but it's still love. It's what she needs. Why does she get it? Why?" she demanded, angrily.
"I don't know," Angel finally admitted. "I don't want to care for her. I never planned to care for her. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me." Growling in frustration, Angel tried to tamp down all the unwanted emotions that were suddenly assailing him, but he was fighting a losing battle.
"And Spike loves the little redhead. I've lost you both," Drusilla wailed.
Spike. Fuck. Cursing under his breath, Angel pulled back from Drusilla, trying to calm her down with gentle strokes of his hands. "Dru, listen to me, sweetheart." She sniffled a few times and blinked her tears away, slowly quieting. "Spike's been...hurt...badly. I gave him some of my blood, but..."
"Where is he?" she asked forcefully, her whole demeanor changing.
"Do you know where the Chase girl lives? Cordelia?" Drusilla nodded. "They took him to the guesthouse. You knew about Willow," he realized.
As she jumped to her feet, Drusilla nodded. "He loves us both. I must go to him." She was out the door before he could stop her. Shaking his head at her sudden strength and will, Angel turned slowly back to the bedroom, his thoughts returning to the girl chained to his bed.
He didn't love her. He...couldn't love her. She was a thing, a toy, a convenience, a great fuck, but nothing more. Nice to look at, great to fight with, with the stamina nearly to match his.
But, not someone a demon like him could have feelings for. Angelus had never loved anyone, never truly cared for anyone, human or demon. It wasn't in his nature.
Shaking his head angrily, Angel reached for the bottle of blood he had been drinking from before her arrival and drained it. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath, he walked back into the bedroom and around the bed to face Buffy.
Her eyes flickered open and glowed luminescently in the dimly lit room. Crouching down next to her, Angel tried to glare, but she was too pathetic looking for him to muster any anger towards. His fingers brushed her hair back, then traced the path of her tears.
"What the Hell are we going to do, Buffy?" His softly asked question seemed to echo through the room.
"I'm going to kill you or you're going to kill me. It's the only thing TO do," she replied dully.
"You're wrong. Neither of those are an option."
As Buffy sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Angel sat down next to her, reaching for a loose blanket to wrap around her trembling body.
"Do you still love Angel?" She nodded. "When you look at me, do you see anything of him, past the physical appearance?"
"What? You...hate Angel. Why would you ask me this?"
"Do you?" he persisted.
"...Sometimes. Like the night that you gave me the bath and the massage. Like two nights ago when you told me that story of Diedre of the Sorrows, before we fell asleep. Like...last week when I saw you in the Bronze, watching me dance. I...thought I saw more than just lust in your eyes." Her free hand fiddled with the blanket in her lap. "Sometimes when you're sleeping, I wake up and look at you and think that you're him. Your face is relaxed, with a hint of a smile...and I remember how he used to give me that smile when he was happy."
Angel took her free hand between his, gently rubbing her cold fingers. "I don't want to be Angel. All that brooding and lurking and suffering, that's not for me."
"I know a vampire can be gentle, can be tender, can be loving. I've seen it. I've seen Spike with Willow. He loves her. When he touches her, it's so obvious."
"He always was closer to humanity than most of us."
"You could be like him."
Angel snorted, but his mind considered the possibility. "Could you love me, if I was like him?"
"I don't know," Buffy answered honestly. "But...it would be a start. I didn't think you wanted me to love you. Do you?" she asked hesitantly.
"Fuck if I know," he sighed. "I just...know that I don't want what just happened in this bed to ever happen again. I didn't like it. I want you...to find pleasure here, to be happy." Angel scowled at his own words, totally confused.
Buffy stared up at him, stunned. "I don't understand you at all."
"Join the fucking club."
Watching the emotions flicker through his dark eyes, Buffy felt some of her depression lift, her anger and self hatred begin to fade. "We are both really fucked up, aren't we?" she asked, a hint of a smile crossing her face.
"Then, I guess we're made for each other." Leaning across her, Angel unchained her wrist, then gently rubbed the soft skin. "I...don't want you doing something stupid, Buffy."
"Stupid?" She gave him a puzzled look.
"Like killing yourself," he growled, his fingers tightening possessively.
"I would never do that." Their eyes met and held. "No matter what you do to me, no matter what I let myself do, I won't do that. Do you want to know why?" He nodded and Buffy moved to straddle his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I'm the only Slayer that has a hope in Hell of surviving Angelus." Hesitantly she looked at him, hoping that he wouldn't take her statement the wrong way.
"You think you can control me?" he growled, but smiled slightly.
Suddenly feeling her spirits lift, Buffy ground her pelvis against him. "Oh, yeah, big boy." He toppled them backwards, his hands roaming over her naked body as she covered his mouth with hers.
"Will you let me make love to you, Buffy?" he murmured against her lips.
"Yes," she hissed, rubbing her wet cleft against his suddenly rock hard cock. Her fingers fumbled over the button and zipper, but finally managed to free his erection. Rolling onto her back, she pulled him with her. Angel kicked off his pants and slid between her legs. His mouth ran down her neck, then captured one nipple, sucking hungrily.
Buffy moaned and undulated beneath him, as her desire spiraled out of control. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as her legs wrapped around his hips. "Please..."
Rubbing his cock along her pussy, Angel slipped it inside and saw a wince of pain cross her face. "Baby, I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear before kissing her tenderly.
"'s okay," she mumbled, tightening her legs to draw him deeper. Her passage was sore, but her need was overwhelming. Gritting her teeth, she rocked against him, impaling herself on his cock, rubbing her swollen clit against his pubic bone in desperation.
Propping himself on one hand, Angel slid the other between their bodies. As he thrust shallowly, he found her clit and flicked it between two fingers, making her cry his name. Her face flushed deeply and her back arched, as he pressed the nubbin, pinching and twisting it. He felt her climax approaching as her inner muscles clamped around his cock.
"Come baby, come for me..." he whispered as he thrust deeper into her quaking channel. With a loud cry of pleasure, Buffy came, her body shaking beneath him, her breathing quickening to harsh pants. "Yes, that's right, love...you're so fucking beautiful when you come," he murmured in awe. As she collapsed beneath him, Angel pulled out of her, wincing as she hissed in pain. "Damn, I'm sorry, baby. I...didn't mean to hurt you."
Slowly Buffy's eyes fluttered open and she frowned slightly. "Did you just apologize?"
Angel scowled and flopped onto his back, lying, "No."
"And...you didn't come. Don't think you deserve an orgasm?" she teased lightly.
He scowled even more and finally admitted. "I was hurting you."
"This has been one insane night," Buffy mused as she rose to her knees. Her fingers danced down the side of this throbbing cock, causing him to thrust hard into the air and hiss her name. Wrapping her fingers around the hard flesh, she pumped at a rapid pace, watching the swollen tip disappear each time her hand rose up the length.
Angel grunted and thrust into her hand, his fingers digging into the bedding. "Shit," he hissed between his teeth. "Harder, baby." Her hand squeezed tighter and her other hand slid between his legs to fondle his heavy balls. He arched hard, making the bed bounce, and his face twisted with lust. "I'm coming," he growled as his cock jerked in her hand, spilling his cold semen over her fingers.
As he relaxed, Buffy raised her hand to her mouth and licked herself clean, then curled up beside him. Angel's arm slid around her shoulders, pulling her closer and she pillowed her head on his chest.
Eyes closing as exhaustion swept over her, Buffy felt him pull the blanket over them both and sank into his cool embrace, not wanting to think anymore. There were too many questions, too many problems, and she just couldn't face them.
Hopefully, tomorrow she would find the strength necessary to do so.
Angel's lips moved over her forehead and she smiled sleepily. "Goodnight, love," he whispered.
Her heart skipped a beat and her smile grew, as silence fell.
End
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