Author: Dark Star
Summary: Angel lends a hand
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is creator and owner of all things Angel
Timeline: Buffy’s Season 3
Rating: Adult (NC 17)
Distribution: Just ask, please
The moon cast a strange sheen across the deserted location known as Hammersmith Park. Most humans didn’t use its shadowy paths and benches after the sun had set; an unspoken fear kept them to their cars and well-lit streets.
From the shadows cast by the trees, a furtive figure came out of hiding, and stepped onto a path bathed in moonlight. The vampire appeared to be listening to the silence, before crossing the path and heading across the lawn.
Behind him, a second figure followed stealthily along the vampire’s trail, always keeping his prey in view. The vampire tensed, and Angel froze with him, wondering what had spooked his quarry.
The small blonde came out of nowhere, sending the startled vampire reeling with a sharp kick to his chest. The vampire retaliated with a clumsy punch at the girl, and Angel watched with affectionate pride as Buffy dealt the night creature an easy backhand and followed through with her wooden stake. The vampire crumbled away to nothing, leaving only dust in its wake.
“Too easy,” Buffy grumbled, wiping her dusty right hand on her skirt. “You couldn’t have put up a little fight?”
She turned to go, when Angel moved toward her and said, “I suppose you know that one was mine?”
Buffy spun, her smile of greeting freezing on her lips.
“You should have been quicker.” She suggested.
Angel took a step toward her, and frowned when she stepped back.
“I have to go,” Buffy said, still shuffling backwards. “Meeting Giles. So, I’ll see you around, okay?”
Before she could turn away, Angel said, “Buffy? Is everything okay?”
“Of course.” She shrugged. “Everything’s fine. Great, actually; just peachy. No need for you to worry at all.”
Angel stopped advancing, and Buffy stopped retreating. He felt hurt and confused. He didn’t think he’d done anything to upset her, and they hadn’t argued. Hell, he hadn’t even seen her in days.
“Have I done anything to upset you?”
“Of course not,” Buffy said, a little too quickly. “Look, I’d really love to chat, but I have to go, so…”
She did turn then, but before she could move, Angel had crossed the distance between them. He grabbed her arm and spun her back.
“What’s going on? Why are you avoiding me?”
He felt the muscles in her arm stiffen at his touch. She was looking down, apparently studying his boots. Something was definitely bothering her and she didn’t want to talk to him about it.
She looked slowly up at him, her eyes taking forever to reach his. But when they did, they were so full of want, and love, and desire, that he knew.
“Oh, Buffy,” he groaned softly, gathering her in his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And that would have helped…. how?” she asked.
“We could have sorted something out.”
“Like what?” she replied scornfully. “Is it really going to help if I tell you how much I want you to make love to me? How I long for your touch? How much… I…” Buffy shook her head angrily and tried to pull away. “This is ridiculous.”
Angel’s grip tightened on her. “You don’t have to avoid me.”
“Yes I do,” she whispered. “Angel, right now I need… the one thing that you can’t give me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Angel murmured, running his fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her head. “I never meant for this to happen. And self-gratification isn’t always enough, is it?” he added sympathetically.
“Huh?” Buffy frowned.
“Masturbation.” he clarified.
Angel watched, enchanted, as a small flush spread slowly along her cheeks. She was clearly ill at ease, and a sudden thought struck him.
“You do masturbate, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she confirmed quickly. “All the time. Never stop, actually.”
She winced when she realised what she’d babbled in her embarrassment; but Angel was staring at her so intently, she just knew that he could see right through her.
“Never?” he persisted gently.
Buffy shook her head miserably. “I…I’ve tried, really I have. But I can’t seem to… you know… finish it.”
She looked so forlorn that Angel couldn’t resist pulling her against his chest. Crap. Never? She must be climbing the damn walls. Coming to a decision, Angel suddenly released her, took hold of her hand and said, “Come with me.”
Suddenly afraid, Buffy pulled back.
“Angel, we can’t.”
“We won’t.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “This will be safe, Buffy. I promise.”
Buffy allowed Angel to lead her through a dense patch of trees, until they reached a small, secluded area. She realised that Angel had found a spot where it would be almost impossible to be ambushed, and she swallowed nervously, wondering what he had in mind.
Buffy shivered as Angel touched her face, tracing a gentle path along her cheek and down toward her neck. She tilted her face up towards his expectantly, hoping that he would kiss her. He did not disappoint her. His lips caressed hers, his hands settling on her waist as he pulled her closer. Buffy whimpered, wanting more, wanting him to douse the fire in her veins and cure the dull ache that had settled in the pit of her stomach.
Angel gently lowered her down onto the damp grass, his lips not leaving hers for an instant. Buffy’s kisses grew more urgent, as the sexual frustration that she’d been denying herself now came rushing to the fore.
Angel slowly undid the buttons on Buffy’s shirt, and pulled the fabric aside. He slipped a hand under the white lace of her bra, pulling it up over her chest.
Buffy gasped at his touch, her skin tingling from the change in temperature as her naked flesh met the night air.
Angel finally broke the kiss, slowly moving his lips down over her chin and throat, tiny little kisses that trekked boldly to her breast, where Angel gently sucked at the swollen nipple. At the same time, he slid a hand over her thigh, inching under her skirt and over her stomach. By the time his exploring hand eased under the waistband of her panties, Buffy was arching up toward him, desperately trying to impale herself on his exploring fingers.
Please… She begged silently, oh please, please…please…
Buffy cried out with the dual sensations of Angel’s tongue languidly lapping at her breast, and his cool fingers pushing confidently inside her. Buffy’s arms instinctively went round him, her hands clutching at his jacket as she arched violently against him; her need spiralling into desperation with the overwhelming sensations assaulting her body.
Angel frowned; he could feel all her muscles locking up, and he guessed why she hadn’t been able to bring herself off. As the Slayer, she was used to being in control. He wondered if perhaps she was afraid to give in, to let go.
He shifted slightly, trailing the kisses back up her throat, and he changed the rhythm of his fingers, deliberately slowing the whole thing down.
“You’re fighting me,” he breathed softly.
“I can’t…” she moaned hoarsely into his shoulder, her hips grinding urgently against the hand working between her legs.
“Easy,” he whispered. “You’re trying too hard, Buffy. Your body knows what to do… all you have to do is let it.”
Buffy closed her eyes, trying to focus on Angel’s soft words, feel only his gentle touch on – and in – her body. Angel’s fingers twitched as he changed the angle a little, curling a digit upwards…and Buffy shrieked as her first orgasm ripped through her, scattering her thoughts and convulsing her body.
“Good girl,” Angel murmured approvingly as his lips caressed her flushed cheek. His hand kept up a steady rhythm, forcing her to make the climb to reach her peak, over and over again. He found it highly erotic to watch her body shudder and jerk in response to him, and he captured her mouth in a kiss, trying to muffle her cries.
When the kiss ended, Buffy moaned helplessly, “Angel, no more…I can’t…”
“Yes you can.” He smiled gently, getting a perverse pleasure from making her do more than she thought she was capable of. It was a matter of pride, too. It hurt that he couldn’t make love to her, and he felt that he’d let her down. But he’d be damned if her let her think he couldn’t satisfy her.
“Angel…” Buffy whimpered, gripping his shoulders with both hands, her eyes locking greedily on his. She wanted to lose herself in those eyes, to bathe in the love that she saw reflected in them.
Her final orgasm tore away every vestige of decorum as her body jerked helplessly in Angel’s strong arms and her muscles clamped painfully on his fingers. He kept motionless as she floated slowly back to earth. Her skin was flushed, and her heart created a cacophony to his sensitive hearing; but there was a relaxed feel to her muscles that hadn’t been there before.
Angel reluctantly removed his fingers from inside her, provoking a mewl of protest at the loss. Buffy opened her eyes to look at him.
“God, Angel,” she gasped out. “That was…” What? Amazing? Exciting? Wonderful? “…good.” She finished lamely. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He replied, stretching out a hand and gently stroking her neglected breast. Buffy gasped in appreciation and Angel added, “But next time, we should choose somewhere a little more private.”
Buffy’s strength was returning and she couldn’t resist a little tease.
“I don’t know, Angel. That was pretty intense.” She told him mischievously. “Do you think that next time could be as good as that?”
Angel heard the challenge in her voice, and he propped himself up on one arm to look at her. The lazy smile that spread across his face made her stomach lurch and her heart do a little hop-skip.
“That was nothing,” he replied with assurance. “Next time, Buffy…I’ll make you scream.”
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