BONES

Rated NC17 For Graphic Sexuality

by Ducks

Happy Valentine's Day, kids!

Disclaimer: None of the characters or places in this story belong to me. They are property of Fox, et. al. Blah blah blah. You know the drill.

Summary: Smut, smut, and yet more smut. Oh, but a little romance, too. Pure B/A happiness. CWC (for those of you who don't know, "Curse, What Curse?" (Peaches' little "problem" is poorly and quickly dismissed.) He's returned to Sunnydale from the pits of L.A. How and why is really unimportant. Told from Honey's POV.

They say that lust is a different sort of beast than passion. I'm not so sure.

She is a million things, all at once, when she moves. She is sunshine and lightning; a little girl and a beautiful woman; She is graceful, like a cat, and certain, like a well-oiled machine. Funny. Words just can't do justice to the picture of her in my mind...

Sometimes she floats, sometimes she flies... and sometimes, she crashes.

She is a force of life... and of death.

She doesn't know any of these things about herself. She constantly clings to her mistaken belief that, fundamentally, she is just like everyone else.

Buffy doesn't know that she is much more than she imagines...

She almost skips over to me once the enemy is vanquished. Her smile shines, lighting the night.

She is up on her tip toes, and that smile is so close to mine that I can no longer see it.

Gods, how she fills my senses... she is so warm...she tastes so sweet... The sound of her speaking my name... the way the moonlight glints off her golden hair...

I want her. Every minute I am with her is a burning eternity, when I can't touch her. Yet, we are both still so afraid of one another... uncertain, still, how to act...how to be, around one another.

I kiss her softly, and I am lost. Or at least, I think I am... until I pull away.

"Buffy, I... let's... we should hunt." I stammer, struggling for unneeded breath. I can feel fire... raging, sharp-edged passion. It cuts through me, crippling me. I can barely stand.

She leans against the nearest tree, panting. She makes a vain attempt to straighten her disheveled hair and clothes.

I can smell her arousal. I swallow, hard... I try to find something cold, unyielding... ugly... to concentrate on.

She nods her head. "Hunt." She says weakly, her voice hoarse.

She wants me. I can feel it... her desire pounds through her blood, changing its viscosity... its scent. She is another creature, right now, in her blood...

I feel it, too. That connection only beings that share blood understand. And yet, most can't care because they have no soul to honor the ties...

Buffy and I are different. We have souls that know one another, through that connection of flesh, and blood... we are more complete than any other entities, because we are together. Those are the bounds we took on when we gave all of ourselves, our very lives, to each other.

We walk aimlessly. 'Forward' is all we seem to know. I watch her clench and unclench her fists, blushing furiously.

"Buffy, I'm sorry." I stop to look at her, but she keeps walking. I reach out to her, grab her arm, and spin her around. How many times have I had to do that? To ply something out of her that she was clearly trying to run away from?

"I don't want to talk about this." She says flatly, still not meeting my eyes.

"We have to talk about this, Buffy. We've been avoiding it since we've been back... spending time... together. We've been in limbo since we found out my soul is bound... Now, things are just getting out of control."

"Out of control? Who's out of control? I am perfectly in control, thank you very much!" She insists loudly. Too loudly.

I use my other hand to gently cup her chin, and raise her perfect hazel eyes to mine.

"I don't." I admit to her. "I feel like I might explode into dust every time I'm around you."

She nods slowly, giving in. "I know. And I... I still don't understand what we're waiting for."

I hate hearing that little ring of hurt that sometimes reverberates in her sweet voice.

"We've talked about this... I thought I made myself clear." I say, "I have to be sure this is... right. Safe. I can't have you getting hurt again."

She twists out of my grasp. "HURT? Do you want to know what HURT is, Angel? I'll tell you! Hurt is having to send your lover to Hell, then to live all of those months thinking I'd murdered you in every possible way! Hurt is having you come back, and not being able to touch you! Hurt is watching you walk away from me like none of it... nothing we did... ever mattered!" She breaks down, then, sagging in her skin, wracked with sobs. I can't move. I'm utterly frozen.

And yet, the heat inside me still stirs. Hurt, yes... I understand hurt. It hurt to be apart from her, and yet, still be completely a part of her...

I've never been much of a student of physics, but standing there, watching Buffy cry, proves to me that we are all, every being, made of the same stuff... my cells, my bones, ache with her pain.

"Buffy..." I say, stepping forward once I am able to move again, "It has mattered. All of it. Loving you... the pain... They're the only things that keep me alive, many days..."

I've said it, then. And she's heard... she understands, because her tears stop, and she looks up at me again.

"Me too." She says, reaching out one strong, tiny, fine hand to bless my cheek with a touch. I look at her. "I want you, Angel. I don't care about anything else. The rest of it is just details."

You may have heard that vampires are strong, and that they move fast. They're both true, and faster than the blink of an eye, I have Buffy in my arms, and we sink to the ground. I devour her like a starving man. I tear her clothes from her back, emitting animal noises from the depth of my gut as I lay my hands, and then my lips, on her, everywhere...

I could spend eternity, kissing her like this.

But again, I stop. I sit up and look at her-- she's trashed, lying half-naked in the grass.

I stand up, brush myself off, and offer her my hand.

Clutching the remains of her blouse to her chest, she stares at me.

"I don't want it to be like this... in the dark, in the cold..." I tell her, "Outside like a couple of animals. I want to make love to you properly, slowly, in a bed, surrounded by candlelight and a roaring fire in the hearth... I want to shower you with rose petals, and feed you strawberries... I want to take you home with me, Buffy Summers... to stay."

I think it's the longest speech I've ever given. She gapes at me, but reaches up to take my hand. I wrap my jacket around her, and scoop her up in my arms. She weighs next to nothing. I'm able to focus all of my energy on the long walk back to the mansion.

She puts on one of my silk shirts while I start a fire. She pours herself a glass of wine and perches prettily on the leather couch, watching me. I notice her every sensual move.

"You'll stick." I warn her.

She grins at me and sips her wine without comment.

Inside the absence of fear
There is this hunger,
This restlessness inside of me
And it knows that you're no stranger,
You're my gravity.
My hands will adore you through
All the darkness aim
They will lay you out in moonlight
And reinvent your name...

It seems funny to me, that Buffy is old enough to drink, now. I've known her for almost six years... six years since she stole my heart on that bright spring afternoon in Los Angeles.

She was no more than a girl, then. Now she is a woman. And I have watched it all happen. I have been part of it. Between Wesley and Cordelia, and even the others, it seems that I have acquired a family for myself. And Buffy is at its center. As much as she is at the center of me.

I can still feel the demon stretch inside of me. It is a baser creature than I, all it can sense is her flesh... her blood. It remembers the taste of her even better than my mind does...

Somewhere in between the airy flight of my romantic soul, and the all-devouring hunger of the demon, is the man I was in life. The physical body that wants what all men want... and has the conscience, the heart to understand the difference between that want, and pure, true need.

Angelus, the man, loves this woman as his life's mate... in this Earthwalk and the next. And he worships her with his body... recognizes her as the missing piece to his physical puzzle, and desires no more, and no less, than completion.

"Come here." I say to her, and walk away, toward the bedroom. I can hear her bare feet, padding up the stairs behind me. The electricity hums, almost palpable, in the air between us.

We both stand in the bedroom door, staring awkwardly at the bed.

"Adustum." I say, and the Latin incantation sets fire to a thousand candles positioned all around the room, as well as three giant logs in the fireplace. The room is quickly warm, and softly lit by the combination of fire and moon.

Buffy looks around and then smiles up at me. It is good, then. My mate is satisfied... thus far.

My bones call to you
Through their separate skin
I make myself translucent
To let you in...

She takes my hand and leads me to the bed, where we both sit down on the edge. She takes off one shoulder of her shirt, the left, and takes one of my hands, laying the palm flat over her breast.

I can feel her heart pounding through her soft flesh. I am struck dumb, unable to see anything but her eyes... do anything but be lost in them, listening to the rhythm of her life force pulse against my hand. I find, with awe as I move my hand down, that our rhythms match... my body, though without pulse, hums in time with hers.

When my finger reaches her pink nipple, she gasps. Her body responds to me with a familiarity it shouldn't have, if we had met, skin to skin, only once in her experience.

But maybe the dream world counts...that place where we have met a million forbidden times... the only place where we can truly know one another... maybe she remembers that one warm, precious day in November...

I remove her shirt completely, and she eases her lithe body back on the bed. I look at her, drinking her in... every curve, every swell of her... I caress her slowly, painfully, with my eyes. She writhes there, sighing, anticipating where our journey will surely take us next.

I lean down to kiss, nibble and lick her, from that soft spot behind her ear, down, over the scar on her throat, over her fine collarbone... down, touching the sensitive underskin of her breasts... over her tight belly... the sides of her ribcage...

When I reach her center, I'm shocked senseless by the heat that emanates from her. I gently dip my fingers into her core, to find her wet... ready, aching for me.

I moan as I plunge my face into her. Drinking her like this is no less overwhelming than drinking her blood... her nectar flows over me, filling my nose and my mouth with her very essence... with the liquid signal of her desire...

I run my tongue slowly, up out of her center to her throbbing clitoris. I take my time, giving each millimeter of the hard flesh my full and rapt attention. One of the joys of immortality is the ability to move slowly... to know that there is always more time, and to give each moment every bit of the energy that it deserves.

Slowly, I increase the pace, alternately flicking my tongue over her, and then taking the hot nub between my lips, sucking on it firmly, but gently.

Buffy moans from deep inside her and grinds herself into me, thrashing beneath me, tangling her fingers in my hair and thrusting her hips to meet my mouth.

"Angel... oh god... yes... oh... god..." she mumbles senselessly, breathing so hard I'm almost afraid she might hyperventilate any minute. But the raging joy of giving her pleasure pounds through me, and I don't relent. I put my hands under the curves of her backside, and pull her closer... Gods... if only I could be closer...

"OH GOD ANGEL! YES!" She screams. Without hesitating, I plunge three fingers into the quick of her, and she's bellowing at the top of her lungs... I encourage her, not stopping... I urge her on with my mouth...

After a few moments, she collapses, and I roll over to lay beside her while she catches her breath. I lay there, happily staring up at the ceiling, listening to her soft moans of exhausted satisfaction.

I must have drifted off, because I'm awakened by her hand caressing my chest. I look at her, and she meets my gaze with what could only be called a good-natured leer.

"My turn." she says, and rolls over to hover above me. I could feel the heat... the moistness... from between her legs.

She softly runs her hands across my shoulders, over my chest, down my sides, across my belly and down...

She strokes my hips, my thighs... softly tickling the fine hairs on my skin... And then, without warning, her lips are sealed around me. I gasp in spite of myself. Her mouth is so searing hot, I can barely stand the sensation of her drawing on me with the muscles of her cheeks and throat.

"Jesus, Buffy." I moan.

She takes me deep into her throat and sucks hard, stroking me in and out of her heavenly mouth over and over again.

Oh, god... she's making me crazy. I feel like any moment, I might explode with the sheer pleasure of her.

"Buffy. I want... god..." I gasp, "Stop. I want to come inside of you."

In a moment, her mouth leaves my shaft, and she hovers her hips above me, the entrance to her silky center poised just inches away. She looks straight into my eyes, and holds my gaze as she sinks down, taking me in.

I cry out from the incredible sensation of it, and my eyes roll back into my head for a moment. I'm dizzy. The room spins and I clutch at her, fighting not to move... not to lose control. Not yet.

I finally open my eyes, my bearings regained, and look into hers again. Her face is soft and open, her eyes closed, and her mouth open in a lusty grin. I wrap my arms around her, with my hands on her haunches, and drive her deeper.

She moans loudly, and looks back into my face. The expression on her beautiful features is incredible... so much need... so much desire... her eyes burn with the bliss of our union. I choke back tears of joy, and we rock in time, our bodies thrilling at the heat and friction building where I slide in and out of her.

She gasps every now and again, throwing her head back and clutching my back for dear life as she rides me. I can feel her body beginning to tense around me gain, driving me closer to my own end. Still holding her tiny body to me, I flip her over and begin ramming myself mercilessly into her, pounding my pelvic bone into hers so hard I'm certain it will leave bruises. But I don't care. She wraps her strong legs around me and urges me on, easily matching my hammering thrusts with her own.

I fuck her soundly until she begins crying out my name once again, and digs her long nails deep into the flesh of my back. I can smell the blood break to the surface and begin to flow...

That's all it takes.

Driving myself deep into her, I duck down to the crook of her neck, feeling with my lips for that tough, circular scarred spot.

My mark. My brand, on her.

My fangs sink into her flesh like it is warm, soft butter. Buffy screams at the top of her lungs in pleasure, and an animal growl tears from my throat as the demon rejoices in his own part of this coupling, and the first burst of her sweet blood washes into my mouth.

I drink deeply for a moment or two... not too long... while Buffy continues to come, still crying out, and thrashing wildly against me. I release her, and throw my head back as the magick of her blood meets the power of my own orgasm... with two final, flesh-rending thrusts, my world explodes into a thousand shards of light.

"BUFFYYYYYYYYYYYY!" I scream senselessly..

Then the world goes black.

I almost expect to wake up in Hell, or maybe not wake up at all... worse, to wake filled with a passionate hatred, and a burning desire to kill the woman sleeping in my arms.

Instead, I wake up tired. And hungry.

She is smiling down at me. "Are you okay? I wasn't sure if I lost you there, for a minute."

I stare at her. Is she real?

She gives me a funny look, "What?"

I wrap my arms around her and pull her warm body close to me. Her heartbeat, now slow and even once again, thuds comfortingly against my side.

Suddenly, I remember what I'd done in the throws of lovemaking, and pull her back up and away from me again. I examine the re-opened scar on her neck worriedly. The little holes are already starting to close, becoming one once again with the hard tissue beneath them.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask her, feeling frantic and more than a little panic.

"What? Why?" she asks, surprised.

"I just... I wanted to make sure I didn't hurt you, when I...." I stumble.

She sighs and settles back, smiling happily, snuggling against my chest.

"No. You didn't. You won't." she says with certainty, "Not anymore..."

I smile, and kiss my mate softly.

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