DISCLAIMER: Never owned ‘em. Never will.
SPOILERS: PWP. Sometime in S4. Just a little phone sex.
PAIRING: B/A, of course! (With a teensy B/R)
DISTRIBUTION: My site (www.sunflower.com/~tango), Starrkitty's Adult B/A Archive - all the usual suspects. Anyone else who houses my fic is welcome to it. All others, please ask first.
FEEDBACK: Please? *G*
RATING: NC-17 - Nuttin' but smut.
DEDICATION: For Gia
When the cell phone buzzed beneath her pillow, Buffy disentangled herself from Riley's body, grabbed her robe and tiptoed into the hallway quickly. She flipped on the phone and managed a whispered, breathless "Hello?" before the voicemail picked up.
"Hi baby," a very familiar voice rumbled as she hurriedly slipped on her robe.
"Angel," she whispered, sneaking down the hallway, down the stairs and into the living room. She curled up on the couch and pressed the phone tightly against her ear as if that action would make her feel closer to him.
"It's your turn, Buffy," he said, his voice low and smooth, sliding over her body in a sensual wave.
"Can't," she whispered, trying not to choke on her words, "Why don't we skip me tonight and I'll double up the next two times."
"He's there," he growled, not bothering to hide his irritation. He wanted to be the mature adult here, wanted to remember that he was the one who left, but the idea of his mate's body intertwined with any other male was enough to bring out the beast inside him.
"Angel..." she retorted fearfully, leaving the rest unsaid. He knew the rest anyway.
"Your turn," he growled again, his words reverberating through the phone at her.
"He might hear-"
"Your turn," he repeated, "Don't care if he's there."
After a moment of weighted silence, he calmed just listening to her nervous breathing. Still unwilling to give up, he added, "I've been waiting all day to talk to you...all night. Please, love."
"‘Kay," she whispered, "Just a short one."
"Where are we?" he asked, knowing his smile came through the line in his words.
"I've just come home from patrolling," she whispered, closing her eyes to visualize her fantasy, "It's late. Mom and Dawn are asleep upstairs."
"Am I already in the house?"
"Yes," she answered, "You're waiting for me. I glance in the living room as I head upstairs and you're sitting on the couch. You don't say anything, you just stare at me, eating me alive with your eyes."
"What are you wearing?"
"A long black skirt," she whispered, trying so hard to keep her voice as quiet as possible, "And a white blouse."
"Underneath?" he prodded.
"Thong panties and no bra," she answered, "In the dim light, you can see my nipples showing through the material." Urged on by his little moan, she continued, "I walk closer to you and I can see the bulge in the front of your pants. You inhale deeply like you always do when I'm aroused, cause I am. I'm so wet. You reach out and slide my skirt up my legs before pulling me onto your lap. I straddle you, pressing us together. I grind on your lap as you thread your fingers through my hair and kiss me...long and slow. You bite at my lips and suck on my tongue and I want you so badly, but I can't tell you. I can't say the words."
"Keep going," he said, "Tell me what happens...want all the details."
"You kiss along my neck and you stop to suck on the scar there," she said and then she heard him almost interrupt her for reminding him of his transgression but she continued before he could comment, "No, Angel. It's one of the most sensitive parts of my body now. Just touching it, makes me want you. When I'm outside and wind blows, sweeping over that raised skin like a caress, I feel you and I have to take a deep breath to keep from running out to find you...my mate."
"Buffy..." he growled, this time in lust and longing for her.
"You suck on my scar and I press against you harder, silently begging you to take me," Buffy said, squeezing her thighs together now, truly aroused by him and the mental image she's conjured, "You move down to my breasts and bite them through my shirt, leaving wet spots where your mouth has been. I want to feel you on my bare skin, but you won't lift my shirt. Finally, I reach down and pull it up, baring my skin to your mouth, hands and tongue. I thread my fingers through your hair as you kiss and suck my flesh, just where I want you, just how I want you."
"Are you wet now?" he asked, wrapping one large hand around his erect cock. Alone in his bedroom, he slouched back in his bed and cradled the phone against his shoulder, eyes tightly closed as he imagined his beautiful mate, bare chested, grinding in his lap. He could almost taste her skin, could almost feel those pebbled nipples against his tongue.
"Yes," she gasped, squirming on the couch.
"Spread your legs, baby," he groaned, "Touch yourself for me."
"He's here, she repeated, as if that little detail had escaped her demon lover. Until now, she had managed to keep Riley separate from these late night phone calls. When Angel first sent her this cell phone and the calls began, she had talked herself into believing that this was not being unfaithful to Riley. It was simply a conversation. Now that said boyfriend was actually in the house, naked in her bed, she felt a little differently about it. Still, she knew she would not be able to deny Angel.
"I know that," he snarled, then lowered his voice once more to a loving tone, "I want to hear the pleasure in your voice. I want to hear you come for me."
"Don't think it's a good idea," she whimpered, "What if he wakes up and comes down here looking for me? How am I going to explain phone sex to him?"
"Do you know what it does to me to know you're coming for me," he urged, taking a different route, "knowing that you're climaxing for me when I'm not even touching you...can't touch you? You are so amazing when you're in the middle of an orgasm. I'll never forget the way your face looks contorted in pleasure for me..."
"I only get this wet for you," she whispered, letting him know that she was granting his request, "Feels so good...wish they were your fingers. Yours fill me so much deeper..."
"Tell me what happens next," he coaxed.
"You're sucking on my breasts and you reach around and grab my ass," she continued, sliding one and then two fingers inside herself, while rubbing her clit, trying to keep her voice low and hoping she succeeded, "You pull me tighter against you, pressing against me so hard. I think if I wasn't the Slayer, it would hurt, but it doesn't. Feels so good...so good. You reach between my thighs and touch me through my panties, rubbing...rubbing and you're kissing me again...your mouth against mine, your tongue inside my mouth. I reach down and unbutton your pants, unzip your zipper and you lift your hips so I can pull your pants down enough to free your..."
"Say it," he groaned, stroking himself harder.
"Cock," she whispered, her voice lower than before.
"Yesss," he hissed, "Then...?"
"Then I wrap my hand around you and you groan, thrusting against my hand," she whispered, "And I don't know how long I planned to touch you, but you push the crotch of my panties aside and guide your...cock...into me. You speak for the first time then."
"What do I say?"
"You...you...tell me, Angel."
"I say, ‘I love you, Buffy,'" he began, "‘I love the feel of you around me, so fucking hot, burning me. I want you to ride me...hard.'"
"And I do," she continued, "I slam down on you, impaling myself with your thick, hard cock. You just barely fit inside me and I feel so full, so....so-"
A noise coming from upstairs made her bolt upright, removing her hand from her thighs. Looking up the stairs, she waited to hear another sound, but heard nothing else. Nervous and shaken, she pressed the phone to her ear again, "Gotta go. I heard something, I think he's awake."
"Buffy, don't go," he said, hearing the desperation in his voice and not caring that she heard it too.
"Sorry," she whispered, "Call tomorrow night. Mom'll be back home and I'll be alone. I promise."
"I love you," he whispered back.
"I love you too, Angel," she answered before hanging up, "Don't ever forget that."
Buffy felt like a thief in her own house as she made her way to her bedroom. She knew he was awake the moment she climbed into bed. He was turned away from her, facing the window, facing Angel's window and his whole body was tensed, each muscle angry.
"Are you going to keep pretending you're asleep?" she asked, finally, knowing he wasn't going to hold her again tonight.
"Would you prefer that I admit that I overheard most of your conversation with Angel?"
"I don't know, Riley," she answered, biting her lower lip as she felt her eyes fill with tears. She wasn't sure if she was crying for Angel, Riley or both.
"Are you going back to him?" he asked quietly, turning over in bed to face her, "Cause if you're going to break my heart, just tell me."
"No," she said, "We...I can't be with him. Not anymore."
"So, I'm supposed to be fine with my girlfriend have phone sex with another man...demon?" he asked, keeping his voice low even though Dawn was spending the night at Xander and Anya's, "And on a cell phone that I've never seen? Angel's probably the only one with the damn number, isn't he?"
"Yes," she answered, covering all the questions with one answer.
"It's cheating, Buffy," he said, taking a deep breath, "Doesn't matter if you aren't touching him. You're cheating on me with a vampire."
Buffy laid down and carefully placed the phone back under her pillow where it always was and faced away from him, not bothering to answer. What answer could she possibly give? She felt his eyes burning into her for long moments, until she finally whispered, "I can't stop. I won't."
When the phone rang, or rather buzzed in her pocket, she picked it up on the second ring, fishing it out of her pocket in mid-battle. Stake in one hand, cellular phone in the other, she panted into the phone, "Hold on."
She tossed it to the side, sliding it across the ground to relative safety near the bushes and finished off the undead and ugly tramping all over her turf. Once she dusted herself off, she headed over to retrieve her phone, raising it to her ear, already trembling with anticipation. Anytime this little miracle of technology buzzed, she felt the same rush of bloodlustfearwantneedlove that could not be compared to any other emotion, that could not be called any other word, but Angel.
"You're early," she whispered, as if there might be ears in the dark.
There were rules, you know and Angel was well aware that it was too early to call. When people - that's a laugh - when supernatural beings are trying to be discreet, they have to follow the rules specifically set aside for their dangerous liaisons but he was not about to wait tonight. All he could think of in the hours since he had spoken to her was that when she got off the phone, she went upstairs and climbed in bed with Riley Finn - with her hot little body flushed and aroused from talking to him.
That was why he wanted to call early. He was supposed to wait until after 1:00 AM but he had spent the rest of the night before and the day thinking about it, thinking about them. He stormed around the hotel, thinking about the boy's hands moving over his mate's body, his body covering hers in her bedroom, his mouth kissing, sucking, licking…
Needless to say, the previous night's events had left Angel feeling edgy. He growled his way through any pleasantries that were necessary to his fellow AI-ers and scowled at anyone who dared ask him what his problem was. He felt like screaming and roaring in fury. What was his problem? How do you want that, in alphabetical order or would any list form suffice? He knew that if he were human, if he had blood flow, his face would be flushed in a permanent, uproarious red.
He headed out early to patrol, dusted two vampires, a chaos demon that carried a scent slightly reminiscent to Drusilla and stopped a mugger from ripping the book bag off of a college student before heading back to the hotel. He went to his room, showered and checked the clock. It was only 10:00 PM. Growling under his breath, he paced his room, back and forth in long sexually frustrated strides. He wasn't going to make it another three hours. No way, no how.
Roaring in frustration, he ripped the phone cord from the wall, taking the entire wall plate with it. In a few steps, he made it across the room, where he flung open the window and tossed the phone out. He leaned out and watched as it crashed to the ground, breaking beyond repair.
Dusting his hands and smiling grimly, he headed over to his chair, sat down and crossed his arms over his chest. Temptation removed. He was not, under any circumstances, calling her tonight.
Or so he thought.
An hour later he had taken out his cell phone, the identical mate to hers and dialed.
"I know I'm early," he said, not put off that she didn't say hello. They never really needed all those formal pleasantries anyway. I mean, what was a ‘hello' when she'd already sent to him to Hell and currently, he felt like he was back in it?
"That's okay," she hurriedly added. She didn't care that they had broken the rules yet again. After all, it's what they were best at, wasn't it?
"I have no right," he said, after a long waited pause. She walked slowly through the cemetery, at one with the night as she listened to the sensual rumbling of her undead unlover's soothing voice. Even when he was self depreciating, he still sounded like dripping honey…preferably on her naked skin.
"You do," she said, her two words a desperate plead for him not to stop, not to take away the one thing she woke up in the morning for and went to sleep at night glowing from.
"I don't," he answered, "Even before I left, I had no right. I never had a right to love you Buffy. I don't have a right to be a part of your life now."
"Shut up, Angel," she ordered tersely, no longer whispering, "Your turn."
"You're sunlight…and everything that is bright and wonderful in this world and I'm d-"
"Shut. Up. Your turn," she demanded, raising her voice to the demon on the other end of the line. Anger flashed across her face and in her eyes, came through clearly in her voice as she said, "We've been over this. I don't want to talk about it. Your. Damn. Turn."
"I'm following you while you patrol in the forest, in the cemetery, on the quad…doesn't matter," he said, his first few words inside a surrendering sigh, "All that matters is you, not where you are, but what you are, who you are. That's everything, love. You know that, right? Every time I wake up and you're not by side I curse my own existence and then I bless it immediately afterwards. Besides, who has known this kind of want, sorrow, desire? Who knows this sort of torture but us?"
"You're stalling!" she shouted into the small device, propelling herself forward in the night, needing to move from the frustration, "No, you're brooding. Your turn, dammit. I did it last night when Ri...I did it last night."
"They…" he whispered and then said, "They attack you, circling around you in a weak battle formation. I'm watching from the bushes, trying to stop myself from jumping in the fray. You don't know I'm there yet and I have to stay away this time."
"Angel," she warned, walking briskly in the dark.
"But I can't," he added, "I move closer, watching them. They're just fledglings really, a couple of decades old or so. Nothing compared to your strength and skill. I see their nostrils flaring and I know that they smell me on you. A master vampire is your lover. They've heard the rumors, heard about the Slayer, but they have to come and see, had to meet the legend. And now they're here, staring at you, circling. They look confident and with game faces in full force, too stupid to know that they are already dust.
"Mmmm…and I move closer until I can smell you too. I love the smell of you, that unique smell of everything is you - vanilla and sunshine, sweat, hot, fresh pumping blood…damn and me. I'm all over you in a sheet of want and need. Just the knowledge of it brings ancient vampiric pride and inhaling it makes me hard every time...thinking about it makes me hard. I'm hard now remembering your smell, your taste.
"I watch you move, darting their punches and kicks. You're concentrating so hard on the fight, that I can see it on your face when you realize I'm there. As the dust settles, I move closer, slowly making my way from the shadows out into the open.
"Your breathing is slowing as you recovering from the battle, but your heart doesn't slow and I know it's beating in excitement for me. I know it's mine and at that moment I care more about the possession of you than the guilt of wanting you."
"No guilt," she whispered, as she looked up and realized she was standing in front of Angel's mansion. She walked in slowly and looked around, her breath catching in her throat she took in her surroundings. The floor beneath her feet felt good, familiar, and she made her way to the couch, tossing off the sheet that he had thrown over it before he left. She snuggled into the couch and listened to him, adoring the seduction in his voice. If she thought about it hard enough, she could almost see him in front of her, inside that large room making her Buffy again, not the imitation she had become.
"No guilt," he murmured, purring into her, "Can't. Not tonight. I've been immersed all day in the thought of you with him and it makes me insane with jealousy."
"Don't be jealous of Riley," she said clearly, "He'll never have my heart."
"But he has your body," Angel answered, closing his eyes in frustration – partially because he actually allowed those words to come from his mouth and partially because he meant them.
"Not really," she answered, "Not all of it."
"What part doesn't he have, my love?" he said. It wasn't filled with anger. It was just a question. A fair one.
"A small place on my neck," she whispered, "That I have never allowed him to touch, my virginity, my whole heart. Those belong to you."
"Now," she said with authority, "Please carry on."
"With pleasure," he rumbled, a slow smile spreading across his lips in spite of himself. How could he love her more today than yesterday when he thought was completely full of her?
"You move into my arms and thread your arms under my coat, snuggling inside it with me. You turn your face up and smile at me, waiting for the kiss I'm going to give you, which I do. I lean in and press my lips against yours. I love that little moan that you make just as we begin to kiss. Sometimes I think that I imagined that part. It's so quiet most of the time, that I almost miss it. This time it's clear, that little moan. Your arms tighten around me and I kiss you harder, moving my tongue in your warm mouth as you move your little hands up the back of my shirt.
"I'm dizzy with the taste and smell of you as always and I smooth my hand over your soft, little hip and down your thigh. You're wearing one of those little skirts. I love them but I never understood why you wore them on patrol. How do you fight like that?"
"Adds to the challenge," she joked, caressing the couch as she snuggled into it more, "No, actually, I sometimes just had emergencies and didn't have time to change into pants. Then I started wearing them on purpose, but I don't anymore."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I knew you liked them," she admitted in a little voice, "And I liked the way you looked at my bare legs...like you couldn't believe I was showing my legs to you or something."
"Old fashioned," he muttered and smiled at the memory of her strutting around in those short skirts, "In my fantasy, you're wearing one because I do love them. Your perfect body is pressed against mine as I reach down far enough to touch your upper thigh and I realize I'm breathing now that I've gotten to touch your skin...so soft. I pull you into a crypt nearby. I just want to touch you, to feel more of your skin, but I already know that there will be much more as you slam me roughly against the wall..."
"Angel?" she whispered, "Are you outside?"
"Yes," he said, "I'm not in the hotel."
"Oh," she said, "Okay, just wondering. Go ahead. What do I do after I slam you against the wall?"
"You grasp my cock through my pants and I groan loudly at the feel of your strong fingers tightening around me. I'm prepared to beg you to touch me or kill me when you begin to unbuckle my belt with that bright teasing smile on your face. Your lips are pink and shiny and I watch as your lick your lips before you kiss me. Your tongue is exploring my mouth as you unbutton my pants and unzip them and then you touch me.
"You're so warm, Buffy. You're hot and sometimes I think just touching you will burn me. Touching you is like looking at the sun. When a person becomes a vampire, the cold surrounds them all the time. There's no warmth left and there's no way to get it without a human...without feeding on a human. I think you radiate more heat than normal humans and just being near you makes me warm all over, makes me feel almost human again.
"What happens next, Angel?"
"You move to my neck and start kissing and biting me there. Your blunt teeth dig into my skin and I feel my cock jerk in your tiny, hot hands. I want you so badly that I'm lost in indecision. I want nothing more than to feel your naked body against mine, I want to feel your mouth around my cock, sucking and licking me, I want to bury my face between your thighs and lap at your sweet juices until I'm drunk from the taste of you, I want to make love to you until the sunrise makes me dust.
"But I lower us to the floor and thread my fingers through your long, silky hair as I kiss you, nipping at your swollen, pink lips. Moving down your body, I kiss you through your clothes, licking the skin that is available to me. I keep moving until I'm settled between your thighs. You open them for me and there's a look on your face that's made up of desire, absolute love and trust. When you spread your legs, your skirt moves up your legs and I stare for a moment at the sight of the wet crotch of your panties.
"Which panties?" Buffy asked, smiling into the phone.
"The purple ones," he said, smiling back, "The ones with the little stars all over them."
"You remember those?" she asked incredulously. She hadn't worn those in years.
"You'd be surprised what I remember, baby," he whispered huskily, "I remember what your arousal smells and tastes like. I remember licking the crotch of those panties, pushing my fingers into them to tease you through the material. Do you remember when I did that?"
"Yes," she panted, squeezing her thighs together on the couch.
"Yes," he crooned, "Yes, I remember those. And in this little fantasy, you're wearing them. They're so light and silky so your arousal has seeped through them. I tease you through the material until you're mewling and wiggling beneath me. I know you want to beg for more, but you don't. You just breathe heavily and then you gasp as I pull them off you and press my face into your sex.
"I breathe you in deeply before I start licking every inch of your perfect little pussy. I part your lips and lick every inch of you, stabbing my tongue into your slick passage to get as much of you as I can before I lap at your clit, nipping and sucking. I press two of my fingers inside you, rhythmically twisting them inside you, pulling them out and pushing them back inside you, much, much slower than you want me to. You whine loudly and I finally suck on it harder. Then what happens, Buffy?"
"I...I come," she whispered.
"Yes, you do," he whispers back, "You always make the most wonderful sounds when you're coming especially when I'm eating your pussy. Your inner muscles tighten around my fingers and you buck your hips up, pressing yourself against my mouth. I keep sucking until your thighs are trembling and then I keep going until your entire body trembles as well.
"I want you to come while we're talking this time," he said, "Will you touch yourself for me?"
"Yes," she gasped, bracing the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and then pushed her hand down the front of them, caressing her already wet sex.
Angel waited until he was sure that she was doing as he asked before he continued.
"I'm so hard, that I'm throbbing and all I want is to be inside you," he whispered, "I move back up your body and pull up your shirt so that I can kiss your breasts and suck on your erect nipples. Your body is still shaking and recovering from your orgasm as I do. You taste delicious all over and it's addicting. I want to lick every inch of your skin, but instead I enter you slowly, burying myself inside your tight pussy. Your body adjusts around the invasion, hugging me tightly and suddenly, I'm breathing just as hard as you are. As I begin moving inside you, you wrap your legs around my waist and you move with me.
"I want to go slowly, but I find that I go faster and harder. Soon we're bucking against each other, moaning loudly. You turn your head where my arms are supporting my body and you bite me hard, so hard that you nearly break my skin. I want to say that I regret it and that I tell you not to do that, but I can't. I love it and I slam into you more roughly. You keen and moan, moving in rhythm with me."
Buffy looked up with a start as she realized that she was hearing him in stereo. She pulled her hand from the front of her jeans and stared as he stood there, just inside the room. His eyes were darkened with lust as he looked over her greedily. He flipped the phone shut and slipped it into the pocket of his duster and walked toward her. She stared at him, unblinking, afraid she was seeing things.
"When you come again, I'm inside you," he whispered, making his way toward her. When he reached her, he pulled the phone from her hand and flipped it closed as he had his.
"Shhh," he whispered, "It's my turn. I feel your muscles tightening around me, the warmth of your gasping breaths on my skin and it vaults me closer to the edge."
He sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap. She leaned her back against his chest and breathed in shuddered breaths as he slipped his hand down the front of her jeans where she had been and whispered in her ear.
"I reach between us and rub your clit," he said, realized his hands were too large to effectively pleasure her while she still wore her jeans. Swiftly, without asking permission as he would have done before, he pushed them off of her, reaching down to slip off her shoes and drag them completely away from her body. Spreading her legs once more, he pushed her panties aside and caressed her bare, wet heat, groaning loudly as he did. The pressure of her weight against his arousal was delicious torture as he cupped one of her breasts with his free hand.
"Oh God, Angel," she begged, "I can't...we can't...oh please."
"I tried to stay away," he whispered, his cool mouth against her ear. His fingers moved fluidly inside her as the fingers of his other hand twisted her nipple through her shirt, "I knew these phones, these calls were a mistake. I'm sorry, baby. I'm weak. I've never been anything else."
Twisting suddenly, she held his hand against her sex as she turned to straddle his lap. She kissed him roughly, almost desperately as she rode his fingers. She pulled away long enough to toss away her shirt and bra, then unbuttoned his shirt, so she could press their skin together. She loved how his cold, muscled chest made her nipples painfully hard. Needing comfort, she scraped them against his chest.
"All I want is to feel you come just once more," he whispered, struggling to swipe his thumb against her clit as she moved on his lap in urgent strokes, "And then I'll leave, I promise. I'll throw away the phones. I won't call again. I just need this."
Ignoring him, knowing she would beg him to stay if she spoke, she kissed him again and then peppered kisses on his face, neck and chest. She bit him hard on his neck and it made him groan loudly and jerk his hips underneath her. Slipping his fingers away, he pulled her against his lap, placing her against his straining cock and wrapped his arms tightly around her as if he were trying to make them one creature. Positioning her sex in just the right spot, he thrust beneath her and she crooned in pleasure as his material covered cock rubbed against her sex.
As she came, he kissed her, sucking her tongue into his mouth, breathing her climax into his undead body. She panted, pressing her face against his chest. Brightening with a smile, she slipped off his lap and onto her knees. She grinned at him as she made short work of his button and zipper to free his thick cock.
"Buffy, what are you doing?" he demanded trying to slap her hands away.
"I know this won't make you lose your soul and so do you," she whispered as she grasped the base of his cock and squeezed, "If you remember my purple starry panties, I'm sure you remember that."
"Buffy," he panted as she lapped at the tip of his cock and then took him into her mouth and began sucking, bobbing her head in his lap. His strong fingers dug into the couch to restrain himself as he struggled not to buck his hips.
Riley Finn had not let Buffy out of his sight since Angel called on the secret cell phone the night before. Course, she didn't realize that he had followed her all day long and into the night, that he had camped outside of Giles' flat while she met with him, watched her in the coffee shop with Willow, Oz and Xander and tracked her when she finally started patrol. Switching instinctually to his military training, he tracked her more anxiously than he would have with any HST.
It was pathetic and he didn't care. Angel was going to call again or show up, and when he did, Riley was going to be there to confront him. His only hope was that he would catch the bastard vampire before he got to his girl. Angel might have kicked his ass last time, but this time he would be prepared. He would not lose Buffy to a bloodsucking fiend.
That was all before he followed Buffy to the mansion and watched as she slipped one of her hands down the front of her jeans, touching herself in rhythm to sound of her voice. Drowning in sorrow and in how beautiful she was when she was *that* turned on, he was shocked when Angel strolled in. He stayed rooted there, unable to move as the vampire molested his girlfriend.
He watched her in unabashed dread as he stripped off her clothes and clad in only a pair of panties, writhed against her undead lover, allowing him to touch her any way he wanted, any where. When she slipped to her knees and started giving the vampire the blow job of the century, he charged forward only to feel a strong hand on his arm, restraining him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Spike whispered, flipping his eyes from Buffy's talented ministrations on his Grande Sire and her worthless, insipid boyfriend, "Slayer'll choose him over you, if you make her. You'd better walk away and never let the chit know you saw this."
"She's cheating on me with a bloodsucker like you," Riley rasped quietly and angrily, "And you want me to pretend it never happened."
"Do whatever you want, you bloody moron," Spike answered, "But you have a chance to keep her, cause the pansy over there loves her too much to stay. I'm just trying to help you, you know."
"Why?" Riley demanded.
"For Buffy, of course," Spike answered with a shrug, "You really didn't think I was helping you, did you? She's going to need some comfort after the Poof leaves and if you make her feel bad about this, it'll be your loss."
"Are we both seeing my girlfriend sucking a vampire's dick?" he demanded, "And you want me to comfort her?"
"She's not just sucking, she's deep throating," Spike said, cocking his head appreciatively at the couple, "I don't care if you want to be a wanker. Hell, maybe I'll get lucky and she'll cry on my shoulder."
"You touch her and I'll stake you," Riley said, "She'd be upset if I staked him, but you, I can kill without remorse."
Both stopped and turned back as Angel released a roar of pleasure, spilling his cold seed in Buffy's mouth. They both watched, not trying to hide their arousals as she milked him of every drop and then climbed back into his lap, hugging him desperately against her.
Riley watched in awe as she curled against him, clinging to the vampire like she had never dared - would never dare - to cling to him. Seconds later, Angel crooned quietly and rocked her. It was then that Riley realized she was crying. It became more apparent as she began to sob, rubbing her face against his chest.
Hanging his head, he turned and headed toward the exit.
"He'll leave, you know," Spike said, "No matter what you see in there, he won't let himself stay. He wants her to be with you, as much as he fucking hates you."
"I hope you're right," Riley said.
"I am and if you hurt her, I'm sure I'll be able to get around this chip long enough to kill you."
Angel woke up slowly and immediately felt the cold metal of manacles on his wrists. His hands were hanging above him and he was sitting on the floor. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked around him as he carefully tested the tension of the chains. Immediately, he closed his eyes and opened them again, blinking the sleep away, because what he saw couldn't possibly be what he was really seeing.
His little mate was lying on the floor, completely nude, facing him. Her hand supported her head and her golden hair fell in magnificent waves to the marble floor. She smiled slowly at him, sadness and determination filling her eyes.
He stared at her lustfully as he remembered what had happened. He had come to Sunnydale against his better judgment just to hold his lover just once more. He had sworn that he would leave, that he would throw the phones away and keep her safe from the danger of him. He remembered rocking her as she cried, both of them still awash in pleasure they had given on each other. He licked his lips, recalling the feel of her orgasm. He must have fallen asleep with her in his arms, but how she got him across the room and chained to the wall was beyond him. Course, that little detail didn't really matter. What did matter was that she was now bare before him, staring at him, her tiny hand idly caressing her naked belly as she waited for him to speak.
"What is going on?" he asked quietly, knowing anger and frustration had plenty of time to arrive. No need to rush it.
"I'm glad you asked," she said and he watched in fascination at her fingers slid up her torso and found her breast. She circled her nipple for a moment before tugging on the erect, rosy flesh, her mouth twitching in an unfulfilled smile, "I wanted to talk to you. I'm tired of not being given a choice. I'm sick of you running away from me. So, now you have to wait until I've said all that I have to say."
"What is there to say?" he asked, inwardly cursing himself because his voice broke with lust in mid-sentence.
"There's lot's to say," she murmured. Shifting to her hands and knees, she crawled across the floor toward him, swinging her hips generously as she moved toward him, "like when you mentioned ancient vampire stuff earlier. What does that have to do with me?"
"Forget I said it," he mumbled, cursing under his breath. He always tried to keep his demon out of their relationship, but it always reared its ugly head - which is a large part of why he left her to begin with.
"No, I think I have a right to know," she demanded, moving ever closer until she reached him and swung one slender leg over him and straddled his right thigh, "What did you mean by that?"
"I marked you as my mate," he said, keeping his voice low, "You know that. In vampiric terms, it means you belong to me and me alone…forever."
"You and you alone, huh?" she asked, rubbing herself against his thigh. He groaned in desire as her juices seeped through his pants, singeing his cool skin. Angel's throat went dry and he couldn't seem to make his mind form words as her hips undulated, her breasts swaying with her movements and her perfect pussy rubbing against his leg. He licked his lips nervously as she pressed herself against him. Lowering her voice to a huskier tone, she added, "So…you mean, like…another vampire can't touch me?"
"Buffy," Angel started in a warning tone, finally finding his voice.
"Just wanna know," she said, tracing his jaw line with her soft fingertips. All the self control in his body couldn't keep him from turning his head and kissing her hand, "What would happen, if another vampire had sex with someone else's mate?"
"Don't do this, Buffy," he growled in warning, "This…us…we're over. I'm going back to LA. You're going to stay here with your boyfriend!"
"Oh," she said, nodding as she pretended to be lost in thought, "So, if you leave and I'm…say, walking along and I get attacked by a cadre of vampires, they'll be fine killing and raping me even though I have this little scar on my neck."
"Godamn it, Buffy," he roared, "YOU WANT TO KNOW? Fine! It means no one can touch you! NO ONE. No humans, no vampires, no other demons. You are MINE. That's what it means!"
"Spike's in love with me, you know," she said lightly, pressing against him harder, "It's okay if he touches me, right? Cause he's-"
"NO!" His roar was deafening and she fought the urge to flinch from the force of his words. Instead, she smiled - slow and cool as he continued yelling, "SPIKE? I'll fucking kill him if he touches you!"
"So, it's bad for a vampire to touch me," she said, nipping along his neck and down his collarbone. Since his shirt was lying over the arm of the couch across the room, his flesh was available to her. She took full advantage as she caressed his chest and stomach, trailing kisses all over him, "But it's okay for a human man to have me, right? I mean, they don't know anything about vampire laws."
"Buffy…this is…different than normal circumstances," he said, struggling to get the words out because she was so warm and her mouth had been moving along his skin for so long he was starting to forget that he was chained to a wall, until he moved to touch her and found he couldn't. He wanted to growl in objection, but he held it in, trying not to breathe, shuddering, needy, yet unneeded breaths. He hissed as her mouth found his nipple and latched on. Her tongue swirled around the hardened pebble and when she bit down, he saw stars. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Please let me touch you."
"Can't. Wish you could," she sighed, moving to the other nipple. He looked down at her naked skin, delectable and lovely. So tempting. He pulled at his chains, idly wondering who had bolted them back to the ceiling. He had broken them before. Could break them again. He could already see them raining down and falling with a crash to the floor. He would already be inside her before his brain could fight him, the manacles still attached to his wrists. Pumping in and out of her soft, hot core, slick with arousal for him, he would reach between them and rub her swollen clit. Visions of the chains attached to his wrists riding over her flesh as he reached between them turned to visions of her chained up, her thighs spread, her pleading voice begging him to fuck her.
He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Her hand had made it down to his groin and was tracing the rigid outline of his cock through his pants. And she was still talking.
"Doesn't bother you, does it?" she asked, her tiny fingers squeezing and caressing him. How much of the conversation had he missed?
"W-what?" he asked, admitting he hadn't been paying attention. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed those warm, perfect breasts against his chest. He felt her shift and her sex was pressed against his, the only barrier a pair of pants. Again, he was carefully testing the strength of the chains as her breath teased his lips.
"Doesn't bother you that someone else is making love to me now?" she whispered, pressing against him. He jerked his hips up, pressing harder against her core. Wanted to beg her to rip his pants away. Take my soul, love, he wanted to beg, Take what's already yours. Instead, he growled.
"Someone else can make love to me whenever he wants," she added, kissing him gently, "And I let him. He touches me all over…inside me."
"I can't stand it," Angel growled, squeezing his eyes shut, but he couldn't block out her soft, intrusive voice.
"He gets to feel me come," she whispered, nipping at his jaw again, "You used to tell me on those nights before we made love, when you would touch me at night, making me orgasm with your hands and mouth, that it was only yours, that you loved that it was only yours."
"Please stop, Buffy," he begged, "I can't stand it. I can't take this."
"Why?" she asked with false innocence, "You left me. Why should it matter?"
"You know it matters," he managed, his voice raw and torn, "You know that I go home every night and dream of you. Wish that no other male on this planet could touch you."
"Why?" she urged, licking his neck, biting in gently and then harder.
"Because you belong to me!" he shouted, "You're mine, not Finn's, not that little bastard who you slept with before, the little walking corpse should thank God he isn't in the ground for using you!"
"Oh, you knew about him?" she mused, sliding her strong hands over his shoulders and arms, kneading and caressing.
"Yes, I knew about him," Angel snarled, "Some of my best dreams have him sans a limb."
"That's strange," Buffy said, making her way back up to his face so she could look in his eyes, which weren't the deep, chocolate brown she loved, but flashing golden. She loved that about him, that his eyes changed color in an anger warning before he lost control. Good, she wanted him to lose control.
"What's strange?" he snapped.
"That you would want to hurt him," she answered, "I mean, sure, he slept with me, used me and tossed me aside like I was nothing, but that shouldn't matter to you. You left me…hmmm…much the same way."
"Don't say that!" he roared, pulling at his chains so hard that dust was swirling down from the ceiling, "Don't ever say that! I love you, Buffy! You know why I left! You know why I can't stay, so why are you torturing me? WHY?"
"Because I'm trying to make a point, Angel," she shouted back, "In case you missed it, which you obviously did. I want you back. I don't care that you can't make love to me. I don't care about the children I'll never have or the sunlight that you can't have. I DON'T CARE. I want you to hold me at night. I want to kiss you and please you in the ways that we are allowed. I want to find a way to bind your soul. I want someone to touch me, who knows how to touch me!"
Riley and Spike had been standing there for so long that their legs were starting to go numb. It was the naked body of the Slayer wrapped around Angel that made them unable to turn away. Both of their jaws dropped as they realized she was waiting for him to go to sleep. She had been sniffling and lying against him and all of a sudden, when they had just thought about leaving, she became very quiet. Her head was resting on Angel's broad chest; her tiny body on top of his and her eyes were wide open. They could almost hear the gears turning inside her Slayer's mind as she waited for Angel to fall asleep.
Riley had no idea how she knew when Angel was asleep. All he had to do was stop moving and close his eyes and he looked dead. He didn't move. It wasn't like she could wait for his breathing to change because he didn't breathe but somehow his girlfriend knew when her ex-demon lover had slipped into dreamland.
"Holy Shit," Spike whispered beside him. The British voice was a painful reminder that the chipped vampire was still present, staring at his girlfriend, still clad in only those tiny panties. Riley was tempted to ask him what the hell he was talking about when they saw her get up and drag the huge vampire across the room, slowly and deliberately, as if she knew exactly how much she could move him without waking him. She murmured softly to him, saying words they couldn't hear as she leaned him against the wall and then carefully clamped the manacles around his wrists. Angel started to stir and Buffy quickly slipped off her panties and tossed them aside before lying down in front of him like a banquet of torture.
Spike groaned half in pleasure and half in pain when the gorgeous Slayer got on her hands and knees and crawled toward his grande sire. If she had known, she probably would have been very upset to know that not only had Spike and Riley watched the evening's festivities, but right then they were staring at her dripping pussy and couldn't turn away as she crawled across the floor. They watched the interchange between them but neither could really make out the words until Angel started screaming, "Godamn it, Buffy! YOU WANT TO KNOW? Fine! It means no one can touch you! NO ONE. No humans, no vampires, no other demons. You are MINE. That's what it means!"
The soldier boy next to Spike flinched.
Buffy murmured something in Angel's ear and Spike strained to hear, watching her grinding those hips against him. He was dizzy with the scent of her arousal, shifting uncomfortably as his erection became unbearable, when his grande sire screamed his name, "Spike? I'll fucking KILL HIM if he touches you."
Which is why, Spike had no intention whatsoever of touching her…today anyway. He hadn't seen his sire so out of his bloody mind since, well, it had been a bit of time, that's for sure. Although, nothing was as common as raging jealousy when the Slayer was around. Bint had a way of making completely normal blokes turn into psychopathic freaks. Not that Spike wasn't a psychopath. Actually, he had been proud of that fact once upon a time. Now he had to learn to act sorry for his evil deeds, just hoping one day he'd be able to slide inside that hot little cunt of hers. See how she made people crazy? She almost made him want to keep the chip, for crying out effin' loud.
Spike had no intention of touching her that night until he saw how quickly things were progressing. Her hot little body was pressed against Angel's, rubbing like she was trying to share skin with the pansy and when she reached down to unbutton his pants, he heard Riley's breath catch next to him. They held there for several long seconds, listening to incoherent babble coming out of Angel's mouth and Buffy's quiet little murmurs, until she pulled out his cock and moved to place him inside her.
"NO!" Spike and Riley screamed, the word coming out of both of them at the same time, with the same kind of panic interlaced in the simple word. Without looking at each other or planning it, they both ran full speed into the room and pulled her away from him. Spike and Riley each grabbed one of her arms and she struggled to twist herself away from them. Holding her tightly, they dragged her across the floor and tried to get her as far away from the broody still souled vamp as possible. They grappled her delightfully nude body in an attempt to keep a hold on her and so they almost missed Angel's outraged roar and the sound of the chains snapping, setting him free.
Spike picked up momentum, and Riley followed suit as in seconds, Angel had snapped the chains, tucked his throbbing cock back in his pants and was across the room, tossing them from his mate like the were Dru's porcelain dolls. Buffy slumped on the floor when the two dropped her, having been wrenched away from her. She watched with glazed eyes as Angel beat them both in turn, equally doling out blows between the two.
"Angel, have you lost your effin' gob, mate?" Spike roared, game face intact, blood pouring from a wound on the side of his face, "Calm down! We weren't going to hurt her."
Angel gathered Spike up, pulling his grande child to his chest and snarled out, "You don't touch my mate."
"I was trying to keep you from losing your bloody soul," Spike protested, freeing himself and stepping back, "Since neither of you seem to have a drop of sense in your thick skulls."
"Your mate?" Riley shouted, "You mean, my girlfriend?"
"I've allowed you to touch what's mine, boy," Angel growled, turning toward the face of his love's boyfriend, whose face was red with anger, "Don't make me deal out punishment for touching a Master vampire's mate."
"What's yours?" Riley blared, "You mean, what's MINE?"
That was it. Angel completely snapped. Buffy watched from the sidelines, still sitting on the floor naked and ashamed. Not only had Riley witnessed the whole event, but Spike had too. She felt violated and as loved as she should have felt, she was embarrassed and more alone than she had in a long time, despite evidence to the contrary.
Buffy thought idly at how beautiful her mate was, muscles rippling over his back, shoulders and arms, eyes blazing in anger. When he and Riley faced off, she began to realize the danger in the situation. When Riley said she was his and she saw Angel slip into game face as he rushed across the room, she knew her boyfriend was about to die. She stood and slipped on Angel's shirt, covering her nudity and then jumped into the fray, knocking them away from each other. Tears glimmered in her eyes as she forced out her words, "Stop. Just stop."
"Riley," she said sadly, "It's over. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I can't do this anymore."
"Over?" he echoed, "But, Buffy-"
"Told you," Spike quipped, from his resting place against the wall, "Warned you to walk away or you'd lose her. It's your own fault, idiot boy."
"Shut up, Spike!" Buffy shouted, "What are you doing here anyway?"
"He's leaving," Angel growled.
"Oh, I'm leaving?" Spike asked, smiling evilly at his sire, "Isn't that usually your thing? You leave 'em high and dry and I'm here to pick up the pieces?"
Angel growled in warning and Spike headed toward the door, "Alright, mate. I'll go. Not like there's much left to see here anyway, except for your grand tearful exit."
"He had a point," Riley said, gesturing toward the door that Spike had gone through, "As much as I hate to admit it, Buffy, Spike was right. Angel's just going to leave you again. Why are you breaking up with the guy who's in it for the long haul? I love you, Buffy. I can give you everything he can't."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"This doesn't make sense!" Riley said, "I can give you everything he can't!"
"Except one thing," Buffy said, looking over to where Angel had slipped out of game face and was standing to the side, looking as if he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Slowly, his golden mate reached out her hand to him. If for no other reason, but to help her save face, he took it in his own and relished in the feel of her small fingers curling around his once more.
"What?" Riley asked, moving his eyes from where their hands were joined, to her body dwarfed in the vampires' shirt, to the vampire, to his girlfriend and back again.
"He's the only one I love," she whispered, "I'm sorry, Riley. I tried. I really did, but I don't love you. I can't."
"You tried?" he bellowed in exasperation, "Did this trying include the phone sex with him or the times you called out his name in your sleep? When we were making love did you imagine I was him?"
"Couldn't," Buffy mumbled out and gripping Angel's hand so tightly he thought his fingers might break. He nudged her closer to him as she started to wither under Riley's accusing glare.
"Couldn't?" Riley said, "That's funny. Why's that? Cause I breathe?"
"You're too warm," Buffy admitted and flinched as he snorted in frustration and blurted out, "Figures. Don't you see how sick this is? He's a HST, Buffy! You're the Slayer!"
"I know who I am," She said, rising up and standing tall, "And I know who I love!"
"He's going to leave you!"
"Doesn't matter," Buffy said, pulling her hand away from Angel's and stepping away, "I'd rather be alone than hurt you or anyone else, because I can't love them. It isn't fair."
"I'll take my chances," Riley said.
"No, you can't," she said, "I'm sorry." Turning, she went around the room and began gathering her clothes, signifying that the conversation was over. Angel watched as Riley took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly turned and left the room. He jerked his head back toward Buffy as he heard her say sadly, "Your turn, Angel."
Crossing the room, he turned her to face him and gripped her shoulders, "What do you want from me, Buffy?"
"I want you to love me," she said, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"I want you to stay with me and love me," she added, her voice showing her frustration.
"How?" he asked, letting her going and running a hand through his hair, "I can't control myself around you, Buffy and I can't stand the idea of you wasting your life with me."
"How is it a waste, Angel? Huh? How?" she demanded, "You're the only one I love! I think it's been made painfully clear that I can't love anyone else. Why can't we try? I'd rather have what we have than the alternative."
"You'll regret it," he said, shaking his head, "You'll hate me and yourself for this."
"No, I hate us both now!" she shouted, allowing her tears to fall. Her shoulders shook as she turned her back on him and covered her face, sobbing openly. Groaning, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. As he did, he heard her muffled voice cracking against his skin, "When I look into the future, all I see is you. All I want is you."
Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "I know the feeling."
The End! Hope you liked it! *G*
chi·me·ra also chi·mae·ra - n. A fanciful mental illusion or fabrication.
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