Author: Sare Liz Gordy
Email: TeknoVamp@yahoo.com
Site: The Loft
Author's Notes: Okay. Couple of things here. First the title. Has nothing to do with the acutal fic. Nope. This was the first piece of fic that I started on my laptop, Wiggy. You might say, I christened Wiggs with smut. Buffy/Angel smut, at that. Yea, gave me a happy. And this is the first decent fic that was finished as my Writer's Block ended, so a big ole yippy skippy bout that too. They were going to end up on the coffee table, but I'll just have to leave that for another fic. In this one, they don't even make it there. ::sigh:: I know. I'm evil. But you love me anyway, don't you?
And oh, this fic adheres to the universes: BoaMH and Mutant Ghoul. Time line for Mutant Ghoul verse is a few weeks after Sacrificial Lamb. Disclaimers: Okay. News flash. In this fic, Buffy and Angel are happily fucking, multiple times, so it can't be Joss, now can it? Nope. And since I have this horrible foreboding feeling that it won't ever be Joss again... Well, if he doesn't want this particular concept, I'll be more that willing to adopt it. (Joss, hon, e-mail me. We'll do lunch the next time I'm in California.) But, for the time being, yes, much to our chagrin, they still belong to Joss. Lock, stock, and vampire. Damn.
Feedback to Sare Liz . You know you have comments. So... Tell me! You hated it. You loved it. You wanna be Angel's fucktoy. (oops, that's me...)
Please do not distribute without author's permission.
He couldn't wait to be with her again. It had been so long.
Leaving his bike behind him at the curb he stalked up the front walkway. He closed his eyes briefly, remembering a night several weeks ago. Between her duties, her friends, her mother, and occasionally her school, that had been the last time. A small smile played upon his lips as he thought of her slinking up to him in that sheer black creation that perfectly contrasted her pale skin. It was the first time he'd seen her in lingerie. As much as he liked it, it hadn't lasted long. Maybe he'd have more patience tonight.
He rang the doorbell and gave himself a quick once over. Black leather pants. Her favorite. Blood red crushed velvet shirt, slightly unbuttoned. Also, if her pulse was any indication, a favorite. Before he had time to further contemplate his wardrobe and just how much he was trying to impress her, the door opened.
*
She walked to the door and was taken slightly aback at the vision before her. Shaking her head slightly, she reminded herself that the thoughts she was thinking were not good for her to be thinking, and now she was beginning to sound like... //Oh, nevermind.// The smile of welcome came unbidden to her face as she invited the very handsome man inside.
She turned around towards the stairs and called out to the movement above.
"Buffy! Honey, your tutor's here."
Her daughter appeared at the top of the stairs, pulling off a pair of head phones. "Sorry Mom, I didn't hear wha-" she trailed off.
"Your tutor's here."
"I see that, yes."
Joyce turned to the young student beside her. "I'm so sorry about this. I just know Buffy's forgotten, in fact she had plans to go to the Bronze with some of her friends tonight, but this is more important." She turned to her wayward teen, looking expectantly. "Buffy, you can go over to Willow's later tonight, if you finish here, alright? Good. Now... Your books?"
"My books. Which would be helpful. For studying. So I'll go get some. Er, mine. My books. So I can study. And learn. And absorb. And, I'll go get my books now." She turned and practically fled.
Joyce couldn't help but to smile and roll her eyes at her daughter. "I'm sorry about that too, Angel, is it? Yes, well, she's been rather flighty all day - can't imagine why." She led him into the living room, showing him to the sofa. "Would you like anything to drink? Alright, well, I'll just be in the kitchen then. Study hard."
*
Luscious. That was a word. A very good one, as the case may be. Descriptive, too.
Surprising. That was another word. Both fit him tonight.
Buffy stood in the doorway with her text books in her hand. Her bottom lip caught in her teeth as her eyes drank in the vision before her. //Does he know? Does he have any idea how breathtakingly handsome he is? True, he hasn't seen a reflection in over two hundred years, but he has to know. And that shirt. I can't believe he met my mother with that shirt on. Or, mostly on. But really, I'm not complaining... And I have only nice things to say about those pants. Yea, the ones he was poured into.//
Just thinking about her lover made her lower abdomen clench.
"Hi," she offered up shyly from her doorway station.
He looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes stared deep into hers for a moment, enjoying the first time they'd had alone for several weeks. Then his smile turned into a smirk.
"So, what are we studying tonight?"
She smiled bashfully. "Yea. Uh, sorry about that."
He grinned. "No problem."
"So, question of the day," she began as she approached the couch. "Why are you here? I mean, I'm glad to see you, but I thought," she lowered her voice so her mother wouldn't be able to overhear. "I thought we were going to meet at the Bronze?"
He continued to gaze at her as she perched on the opposite corner of the couch. "I thought your mother was going to be out of town."
"Me too. Change of plans. Though I'll be spending the night at Willow's..." She gave him a devilish grin that told him exactly whose bed she would be sleeping in tonight.
The kitchen was silent as she began on all fours on one end of the living room sofa and slowly crawled to the other. He didn't utter a single sound, but a low growl, as she crawled up his body and settled on top of him, wiggling her hips and straddling his lap.
"So," she purred, running her fingertips along the inside of his shirt lapel. "What were you going to do? Over here? With little ole me? With no parental supervision?" She watched his eyes narrow and felt her own grin widen. He grabbed her squirming hips and pressed them a little deeper into his own, into his growing erection.
"I don't know," he began, gently tracing his lips across her cheekbone. "It's been so long," he whispered into her ear, "I may have forgotten." He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "Then again," he said, squeezing her hips, "maybe not." His lips quickly captured hers, his tongue enticing her to bend low over his body, to stay joined with him. His hands encouraged the slow rocking motion her body had begun. Leather rubbed against her bare skin, her legs folded on either side of his, her lightly covered breasts teasing his barely covered chest - touching and then coming away again. As the moments flew by, she could feel him lengthen and harden beneath her. Feeling him so close but not inside sent a shiver up her spine and served only to drive her that much more out of her mind.
She surfaced from his kiss, her fingers still entwined in his hair. She grinned evilly at him. "Well, I suppose a little memory loss in your old age is a minor thing. I'll just have to jog some of those memories loose." Her lips were dangerously close to his. "Are you sure you're up to such strenuous activities?"
He growled and thrust his hips sharply into hers.
She couldn't hold her sharp intake of breath, but quickly recovering she tilted his head to one side and laughed lowly as her lips passed his ear. Trailing tiny kisses down his neck, at the juncture of his shoulder she opened her mouth and lapped at the cool skin there.
Just before she bit down and sucked for all she was worth.
She suppressed a grin as his entire body went taught beneath her, simply continuing her activities until she heard him whine her name. Slowly, she eased the pressure, eventually coming up to meet his eyes, all the while licking her lips.
"Yes?"
His voice was a low growl. "Did you really want me to fuck you right here in your living room?"
"Maybe," she began, her eyes challenging his, "I wanted to fuck you, right here in my living room. Ever think of that?"
A slow, predatory smile slipped over his lips. "Several times."
"So what's your problem, old man?"
"Well, little girl, are you sure you want to fuck me, right here in your living room, when your mother's in the kitchen?"
She sobered instantly.
"Ooo. Good point. The French Revolution it is, then," she said pertly just before she flipped herself off of his lap.
*
He craned his neck and cracked it in a vain effort to relieve some of his sexual tension. His only saving grace was that he knew she wasn't as calm as she seemed to be on the outside. He took a moment and savored it. Though it only seemed as if he was staring at her, in that moment, he let the passion filled air rush over his tongue, delighting in the combination of scents that distinguished her and the balance of her hormones. He let the thundering sound of the rush of blood through her heart, through her veins wash over him, its speed incredible and intoxicating. He slowly reigned in his passion concentrating on the almost silent noises her mother was making in the kitchen. The noises that were getting louder and louder until-
"Buffy?" Joyce emerged from the kitchen to see her daughter looking intently in a book. Angel glanced over to see her and had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes. //Smooth, Buffy, smooth. And perhaps she won't notice that the book is upside down.//
He watched with a jolt as she jumped up from her perch on the sofa and quickly walked towards and past her mother's questioning glance. From inside the kitchen he heard her call out, "Just getting a glass of water, be back in a minute!"
Angel looked in the direction of the kitchen, then exchanged glances with Joyce.
"I have a strange child," she muttered under her breath. She looked up momentarily then began to gather her things together. "Um, Angel? Could you be a dear and tell Buffy that I'm going to be out for a few hours, and if you two finish before that, that she needs to be back by noon tomorrow? Thanks." With that she left.
Angel couldn't suppress a smirk at his good fortune. A few hours. //No, we won't be done. But we'll be in my bed by then...//
He waited a moment until he could hear the car pull out of the driveway and slowly make its way down the street. Silently, he rose for the sofa and walked over to the doorway, no sound marking his progress. He watched as she downed another glass of water in an effort to regain calm.
She turned, already walking towards him, but came up short with a start. "Angel, god, I didn't see you there." Her chest heaved with the breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Is Mom out there? Cause I-"
"She's gone." His statement was matter of fact, but his eyes betrayed his lust.
"Gone? As in..." she began hopefully.
"Gone," he uttered, his voice this time a sensual caress.
She smiled and slowly approached the doorway. "Well, why didn't you say so?" She stopped far enough away to unbutton his shirt from the bottom up. "Did she happen to mention when she'd be back? Or," she added, letting her fingertips lightly trace up his muscular abdomen to his sculpted chest. "A curfew?"
"Hmm, let me think." He waited until her fingers were wrapped around the back of his neck, her body close enough to share the warmth. "Oh yes," he mentioned off handedly as his hands trailed down her sides, "I remember now." He paused to taste her lips then quickly continued. "She won't be home for a few hours."
"And my curfew?"
"Noon," he growled. The thought of being with her for over twelve hours was absolutely intoxicating. Almost as much as her hot flesh against his skin.
She tipped her head back and into the kiss, holding her body close to his until he unceremoniously tore her tight fitting tank top over her head and away from them both. He watched as she caught her breath at his actions. Watched as emotions played across her face, watch as she swallowed, the strong corded muscles in her neck gently rippling down the long, smooth column that flowed flawlessly down into her shoulders, her pale skin radiating warmth. Watched her eyes burn with fire as her hot fingers slipped over his cool shoulders, pushing his shirt off, baring his skin to her ruthless touch.
Angel couldn't contain the groan that poured from his throat when she took one of his nipples into her hot little mouth, tasting, teasing, rolling it around her tongue, then with torturing slowness drag her lips from it to it's mate, only to do the same thing there. Her hands never still, roved over his deliciously flat stomach, his muscled back, tracing every line of muscle, every sinuous curve. Slowly her lips made their way back up his body, tasting every bit that she could, while her hands made their way down, to the button and zipper of his pants.
Silently he stood during her onslaught, fingers in her hair, exploring her shoulders, her back, anywhere he could reach. Now and then his hands circled around to caress her breasts, letting each perfectly fill his hands, letting his thumbs relentlessly tease the hardened nubs, eliciting the occasional gasp from the beautiful woman attacking his body.
Silently he stood, until on her way back up his chest, she detoured to his neck. Angel tensed, knowing how sensitive the spot was, and knowing she knew. She gave the area above a silent vein one long languid lick and he couldn't stop the shudder that racked his body. Her warm breath tickling the area was driving him insane, but he wouldn't have stopped it for anything. He could feel her teeth dragging across the cold expanse and growled at her teasing. He knew she was going to do it again, bite him again. It drove him absolutely wild and was practically an orgasmic experience. He increased his low growl and wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place with one hand dragged through her hair and the other grinding her willing hips into his. He could feel her laughing at him, but was beyond caring. He needed this as badly as needing to be _in_ her, sheathed in her warmth.
Oh, she was a horrible tease. Oh, he would get her back... He would. He could feel her nibbling her way up and down his neck, prolonging the inevitable. This wasn't foreplay. This was torture. "Buffy..." he growled out, amazed at the coherence.
"Hmmm?" Such innocence her voice did not deserve.
Then he knew what she was waiting for. "Please," he whispered, rolling his head completely and submissively to the side.
He yelped and froze in response to the sweet pressure of her blunt teeth trying to bury themselves in his flesh, and shook anew as her tongue teased the skin she held. He squeezed his eyes tightly, the image of her trying to feed off of him, erotically burned in his mind.
"Buffy," he whined, begging her for that release, grinding his painful erection into her hips.
Finally merciful, she bit down again, this time sucking deeply as if feeding.
The horse shout came from a tense body as his world exploded behind his eyes, flashes of brilliant light more powerful than the sun seared through him and left him shaken and weak with the strong desire to gather his sweet Slayer up in his arms and sleep for a long while.
Slowly surfacing, she took a step back to admire her handiwork and found her eyebrows raising as he slipped down to his knees like so much jelly.
Through a great effort of will, he raised his head and gazed at the woman who had done this to him.
"Wow."
"Yea," he said, a little breathlessly. "You could say that."
"Did you just do what I think you did?"
"You mean, did I just orgasm without actually coming?"
"Yea."
"I think so."
At that point she had the audacity to giggle at his situation. Right before she found herself being dragged down to the floor.
"Hey!"
"Yes?" He had a dangerous glint in his eye, and yes, still a raging hard on. Quickly, before she had a moment to respond, he captured her mouth, slashing his lips over hers, dragging his tongue over her lips until she opened herself to him. They stayed like that for an endless time, their lips and tongues the only thing in contact with each other. They stayed like that until he had mercy on her and her need to breath. Lightly trailing kisses all over her face, he gently laid her down and stripped her of her dark mini skirt and drenched satin panties. He bent over her, still kissing every inch of her face and slowly moving down her neck and one hand returned to her mass of curls, gently teasing the flesh there. He was rewarded with a small gasp from her that only encouraged him to tease a little deeper. His fingertips were soon slick with her wetness as they roamed, drawing the moisture across the inner lips, and too across her clit as his index finger stroked the little spot until she arched and cried his name.
His lips trailed to her waiting breasts, his tongue tracing the areola of one, eventually having mercy and taking it into his mouth, sucking gently even as he slid one long finder inside her hot moist cavern. She bucked and moaned as he slid another finger into her, probing her, loosening her tight sex, preparing her.
"Angel," she moaned. "Oh Angel, please... Please."
Inserting a third finger, he had pity on her. Sucking deeply on her nipple and flicking her clit at the same time, he watched as his lover entered the throes of orgasm, feeling her hands clenching him. She thrust into his mouth, into his hand and screamed his name over and over again.
//God she's beautiful when she comes.// He mentally took a moment out as his hands and mouth slowly worked her down off her high to contemplate that thought. //She's gorgeous, and she's strong, and intelligent and caring. And she's mine. How did that happen again?//
Angel was brought from his musings by her hands dragging his face up to hers for one of the sweetest kisses he'd had in weeks.
"Mmmm... That was nice." She didn't even open her eyes.
"Glad you appreciate the gesture."
"But..."
"But?"
She opened her sex-drugged eyes. "I wanna feel you inside of me. Deep..." she tilted his head so she could whisper in his ear. "Where you should be. Where you belong."
He growled his assent and kicked off his loafers, quickly ridding himself of his pants and boxers in the process. "Thought you'd never ask."
Once between her legs, he brushed his thumb across her cheekbone, willing her to open her eyes and share the moment with him. Gazes firmly locked together, he pushed the very tip against her opening, teasing her as she'd done to him earlier in the evening. But even he couldn't take it for very long. With one slow thrust, he sheathed himself in her scalding heat.
"Oooooh," she moaned. "Sooo big... Angel, ooo, were you this... aah... big before?"
He lowered himself until he was just above her, supporting himself on his elbows, trying desperately not to ram her into the floor, as was his wont.
"You," he softly reminded her still looking into her big blue eyes, "were not this tight before. That's what happens when we don't do this for awhile. You get tighter, and I'm guessing," he said, trailing a cool finger tip down her side and relishing her shiver, "more sensitive as well."
"Oooh, yea. Tight. Sensitive. Um, hmm... And you?"
"I'll show you what it does to me," Angel growled, finally thrusting gently inside of her, letting her get used to the feeling as much as she could.
He heard her moans and felt her legs wrap around his hips - holding on tight and allowing him even deeper access. She strained against his non-action and arched her body to his, desperately trying to tempt him into ramming her. He moved inside of her once again, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. She was so fucking tight and wet, it was incredible. //A man could go insane from this,// was his last complete thought.
His thrusts lengthened and deepened and she strove to match him, move for move. His name was her mantra, and she cried it over and over again with each joining. Several rapid short thrusts followed by impossibly long deep movements had her nails raking down his back, her fingers clawing at his ass in an attempt to get him as deep as possible.
"Angel, please..." She tilted her head, baring her neck for him. She couldn't mean...
His eyes asked her the question his voice was unable to form. The Slayer's only response was a heady look and her hand guiding his head to her neck.
He growled as he tasted the length of the creamy column. This would be the first time for him to feed off of her like this... They'd done it before, but it was different then. Then he had been just taking advantage of what mother nature had given them both. But now, now he was taking her life blood directly from her system. The thought sent shivers racing down his spine, and did wonders in bringing him closer to his peak. Still pounding into her, he reached down and fingered Buffy's clit, even as he felt his eyes glow and his fangs erupt. He gently took her neck between his lips and bit into it as if it were the most fragile thing he'd ever held, as indeed it was. As his fangs sank into her then pulled out again, as not to tear her flesh, she tripped over into a long orgasm, straining against him, screaming his name. He sucked on tiny tears in her neck for just a few moments, swallowing the thick, rich, powerful fluid, feeling it rock his system, then filling his mouth again, to savor the sweet wine she'd so selflessly given him. The rush in his head, in his body, the burning all the way down his throat was practically a direct line to his loins as he thrust for the final time, emptying himself into her in a quiet powerful way, licking her wounds, savoring her gift, and glorying in her body.
Still nursing the bite, licking the weeping wound as it slowly began to heal, he rolled with her until she was lying sprawled on top of him, still joined. His hands roamed over her back, content to softly caress her skin, just waiting for her to come back to reality.
"Mmmmm..." she moaned, nestling into his embrace.
"Oh, no you don't. Don't you dare fall asleep. We're on your living room floor, remember?"
"Mmm, hmm... But I'm so comfy."
"I know sweetheart." He smiled down at the blond hair strewn across his chest. He would like nothing more than to lay with her for hours. "So am I."
"So what's your problem?" she asked, still groggy.
"The thought of your mother coming home pretty much does it for me."
"Mmmm, good point. What do you suggest, oh wise one?"
"Well, we could go back to my apartment, you could sleep there..."
"Among other things..." She looked up smiling, perfectly awake and with it now.
"Well, yea. Or we could go to the Bronze. Willow and Xander tend to get rambunctious if you don't show up relatively on time. They do really annoying things." He glared accusingly at her. "Like coming and looking for you. And at the most inopportune times, too."
Buffy shrugged. "I think it's the 'Ohmigod, she's been attacked by a vampire' thing. Puts them on edge."
"Well," he said, leaning up to lick his mark, clearly visible on the side of her throat. "They're right on with that one."
The most powerful Slayer in recorded history began to giggle into the crook of her vampire lover's neck. "Is it really visible? Gawd, Giles is gonna freak."
"Giles I'm not worried about. He knows... well... you know."
She looked up at him quizzically. "No. I don't know. Care to share?"
"He knows that feeding and sex for a vampire are... very closely related. It don't think it would surprise him very much."
"How come nobody tells me about these things?"
Angel grinned unabashedly at her. "He probably figured you'd find out on your own."
"Oh, well, yea, there's that. So, wait. If you're not worried about Giles, then who?"
He caressed the side of her face. "I really do care what your friends think of me. Of us. I don't want them to think..." He paused, not quite knowing how to say it, and still keep a shred of dignity. "I don't want them to think I hurt you."
A soft smile creeped upon her lips. "You really mean that?"
"Of course I do. Well, with the possible exception of Xander. He could go take a flying leap off of a ten story building and I really wouldn't care much."
She slugged him in the arm.
"What? - I'm being truthful here. Okay, okay. I'd care. Just not much." Lying was so difficult sometimes.
"That's better. Hey!"
He looked alarmed at her sudden rounding on him. "What?"
"You changed the subject, mister. And it's not gonna work this time." She craned her neck to him to examine. "How bad is it?"
"Honestly?"
She gave him a 'duh' look. "No, I want you to lie to me so I'll have to get up and look into a mirror." She sighed in exasperation. "Yes, honestly."
"You look like you've been bitten, quite tenderly might I add, by someone with fangs."
"You mean it's not a huge horrible gash?"
"Nope." He grinned at her. "I do good work."
Her lips were hovering just above his, and he could feel her breath. "So, what does it look like, exactly?"
"Exactly?" His lips brushed hers before continuing. "Two small puncture wounds and a _whole_ lotta redness."
Lips brushed again.
"Mmmm, classic vamp bite. I'll be the belle of the ball. Can't wait to show Willow."
A tongue darted quickly in and out, catching a tender lip unaware.
"You don't think she'll freak?"
Two tongues met tentatively, their velvety softnesses explored, each by the other.
"Nah. Mom'll freak."
Lips met softly, seeking. Finding.
"I think a scarf is in order."
She sighed and nuzzled into his neck, her small fingers twirling patterns in the smooth skin of his chest.
"In that case, I think shopping is in order."
"Why do I have the feeling I'll be buying more than just a scarf?"
"Because you love and adore me, and want to see me attired in only the best, and most sensuous things?"
He couldn't keep back the groan. "How is it than whenever shopping is the topic, you suddenly wax eloquent?"
"It's a natural female reaction to the buying power of the male. Especially the older male. Didn't you know?"
"I do now."
"That's what Dad said."
"Lemme guess."
"Yup. I gave him a run for his money. Or, VISA, as the case may be."
"Is that why you have so many shoes?"
She looked up into his eyes and grinned. "Yup."
He sighed. There was no winning this game, not when she played all out. Might as well concede defeat now. "Go put your books away and get your bag, you little shopaholic. The mall, then the Bronze."
Not that, not again. He had conceded dammit, pouting was not allowed. She was playing dirty. "You mean we have to do both? I mean..."
"Yup. Sorry, babe." He kissed her quickly on her lips, thanking whoever put that thought into his head. "Go get your stuff, or we'll never get to the mall."
Her eyes narrowed as she extracted herself from his grasp and pulled her clothes back on, sans the base layer. "Has anyone told you lately that you are a cruel and manipulating man?"
"Not in the last century or so, no." He picked up the satin undergarments and brought them to eye level. "Forgetting something?"
"On purpose," she muttered, snatching them from him and walking away from him to gather her books. On her way out of the room, she called behind her. "I'll be down in a minute. I gotta change, then I'll be ready."
THE END
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