Persuasion
"Giles, what’s the sitch? You gave me the night off."
Buffy strode to the middle of the library floor and stopped there, hands on hips, waiting for her watcher to extract himself from the latest prophesy.
He did, and adjusted his glasses before speaking. "Once everyone is here." With that, the older Brit went back to his texts, seemingly absorbed.
Buffy groaned and dropped her jacket on the counter before going to the cage and removing one of the quarterstaves. Better to work on her kata and play Friar Tuck than bite her nails.
Only a few minutes into the silent sweeps being made by the slayer and her weapon, the library doors swung open again, emitting a dark brooding figure who visibly lightened at the presence of the training girl. In response to her own quick smile, his lips quirked upwards before he drug his attention to the sitting watcher.
"What is it? What’s going on?"
"He’s gone Cryptic Boy," Buffy said, sweeping the six foot bo down and across as her body swivelled and leg shot out in a perfect side kick at head level. "Won’t give till everyone’s here."
"Well," Giles interrupted, answering the question intended for him. "Everyone’s here, so I believe I’ll ...give... now."
Buffy ceased her movements, standing with her legs shoulder width apart, hand high on the staff and she rested it on the ground. Angel came up behind her, nearly touching, ready to lend whatever support he was able.
"Yes, well," Giles began, taking off his glasses and polishing them on an ever present handkerchief. "I will be as brief as possible." He swallowed thickly, finally placing his glasses back on. "I have done extensive research into your curse, Angel. I believe it to be free of discrepancy - that is, I mean... well.. you are free to be... as happy as you like, nothing save more magic will take your soul from you."
The clattering of the staff echoed throughout the large area, enunciating the otherwise complete silence.
"Are you sure?" came a whispered question.
"I am positive." Giles smiled softly. He looked mildly unprepared for his slayer to fly into his arms, but he seemed to recover quickly enough.
"Thank you, Giles. Thank you so much for doing this for him..."
When she’d released her death grip of his neck, he held her at arms length, basking in her joy. "I did it for you. So you could be happy together."
The mild surprise passed quickly on his face, soon replaced by the most neutral expression he could muster. She didn’t seem pleased.
"Oh. Yea. Well. Thanks." She smiled sweetly and returned to the center floor, quickly stooping to snag the fallen weapon, deftly avoiding Angel’s attempt to touch her. After putting the weapon away, she glanced over to find her watcher safely ensconced in his office, door closed. Her sigh was almost imperceptible. Almost.
Angel approached her in a few quick movements, closing the distance between their bodies. He grabbed her up, kissing her thoroughly, ravishing her mouth. His tongue slid over hers, enticing it to play with him, and eventually, her body melted into his, her hand in his hair, the other around his neck. Her moan was muffled by his lips, but soon she was free to speak and breathe, though her body was still melded with his.
"Let’s go continue this elsewhere. Perhaps," Angel said, nuzzling her ear, his voice a low whisper, "My bed."
The scent of her arousal escalated, but her entire body tightened. "Actually Angel, I... uh... have to... be at home. Mom’s expecting me."
His voice was as near to pathetisism as any respectable two hundred forty-three year old vampire could be. "You can’t get out of it?"
"No. Sorry."
Angel sighed in resignation. "Come on, then. I’ll walk you home."
The tension flooded out of her body as she beamed up at him, lending one of her most devastating smiles. "Okay."
*****
On her porch he held her reverently, ringing her face with tiny dry kisses. Looking into her eyes, he breathed out, "Oh, Buffy, baby. I... I love you so much." He rested his forehead on hers, for the moment contenting himself to be in her arms. "Soon," he smiled. "Soon we’ll be together."
He could feel the nervousness and apprehension flood her as it had before, in the library. He still couldn’t figure out why.
"We already are. I- I- I mean, we are here. And, here we are. With each other. It’s togetherness."
Angel smiled, running his thumb across her lips, willing calm into his young lover. "I meant," he said softly, his eyes lazily gazing into hers, "That soon I’ll be able to properly worship your body with no ill effects."
"Oh. Body worship. Yea, I knew that. And, I was going to say that, but I, uh, didn’t."
She was still notably tense, so Angel continued, trying to calm her, or at least excite her differently. He leaned in closer, the side of his face brushing hers, his lips caressing her feather soft shell like ear. He purred softly, ending on her name.
"Baby," he rumbled. "I know you dreamed about me, about us. I know you ache." He paused for a moment, caressing her neck with his thumb. "I ache, too," he whispered. "I need to be inside you, baby," Angel continued hoarsely, "Need it more than blood." He held her shuddering form, pausing but unrelenting. "Gotta go deep where no one’s been but me. Wanna hear you scream my name over and over." He shifted slightly, letting his lover feel his erection. "Wanna go down on you, baby. I wanna suck on your clit till you can’t remember how to breathe. Wanna taste your honey. Didn’t get to do that last time. Been dreaming about it ever since." At her surprised start he chuckled. "Yea, baby, I dream about you. Every day. Shouldn’t surprise you."
Angel reluctantly pulled back slightly when he heard movement inside the house. Palms cupping her face, he gazed at her, his voice near reverence. "Can I come to you tonight?"
Her swallow was thick and nearly audible. "Sure."
The slayer’s lips were as soft and willing as ever, but the tension in her shoulders and spine were back, en force.
*****
She wasn’t there. Her bed wasn’t even turned down. Angel stood just inside the window wondering where in the hell she could be at four in the morning. He listened intently to the still house, but could hear only one heartbeat besides the in the basement. In confusion and building fear, he opened her closet to find her overnight bag gone.
Angel calmed only slightly, but at least the chances were slim that she was lying dead somewhere. He refused to think any other thought until he’d checked one more place.
*****
Why? Why was she curled up into a tiny little ball on a corner of Willow’s bed in the throes of a nightmare when she should be in his, in the throes of ecstasy? It wasn’t like she didn’t want him - her need was blatant. So why in hell was she here?
Angel raged against the unseen barrier of permission that excluded him from his love in distress. Through the now open French doors he called softly to her, loathed to disturb her, but anxious to end her misery, and his own.
"Buffy, baby... Come on, Buffy, let me in..." Angel trailed off, worry marring his expression, distressed that her nightmare had only just worsened. He could hear her low whimpering as it turned into slight heaving sobs. He tried again. "Come on, Baby. Wake up, honey, it’s just a dream. Come on, Buffy, honey, wake up. Let me in."
At first Angel thought that she’d woken finally, but she had only called to him in her sleep. It broke his heart that he was unable to come to her and give her the comfort she needed.
"Angel, noooo," she moaned out, sobbing. After a moment or two, she began to thrash, jarring Angel out of this own tears. One kick in particular found its mark on her bed mate who groaned and rolled over to find the source of her sudden wakefulness.
"Willow!" Angel whispered out urgently. "Oh, god," he murmured. "Willow, wake up and let me in."
"Huh?" Willow looked around and seeing nothing in particular, settled back into sleep until Angel’s soft insistent voice sent her sitting up.
"Oh. Angel. You’re not supposed to be here."
"Let me in, Will. She needs me. Let me in."
The red head frowned in concentration and Angel could see her tired mind working. He was surprised when she pulled on a robe and padded towards, then past him, into the darkness. He turned to face her slightly, and started again.
"Let me in. She’s frightened and she needs me," he said, glancing back in to see his lover still having nightmares.
Willow looked at him in silence for a heart beat or two and only after breathing a deep sigh, answered him. "I can’t. I like you, and we’re friends, and I know you want the best for her, but... she... she came here to be alone, and I promised."
Angel slowly looked back at his lover’s best friend, his mind refusing to process the given information. "What do you mean, you promised?"
"I promised, Angel. I promised," the young girl wailed softly. At his silence, she tried to clarify without getting everyone involved upset. "I promised her that she’d... be... alone tonight. You know, no Mom, or Xander, or Giles."
"Or Angel," he finished hoarsely.
Willow looked down to examine her bunny slippers. "Or Angel," she whispered.
"Why?" the vampire asked brokenly, knowing that Buffy was avoiding him alone.
"No. No, no, no, no, and no. Between the two of you. No.
This is me not going there. Resolve face."
Angel looked deeply into said face and watched as the resolve crumbled under the weight of the pain in his heart. "Why?"
"I can’t tell, Angel, I can’t. She’ll axe murder me."
"Willow... Why doesn’t she want to see me? Why is she like this?"
Willow sighed, defeated. "Was she like this a couple of nights ago?"
"No," Angel said, vehemently denying it, hoping that the single action alone would cure the situation.
"Then what changed between then and now? What changed everything?"
Angel could think of only one thing, and that couldn’t possibly be it. He waited in silence until Willow gave him a look. "The curse, but..."
The hacker raised her eyebrows and looked expectantly. "But, what?" After a moment’s pause, she continued hesitantly. "The demon... she has issues, Angel. Big issues."
"But, I love her. She loves me..."
"You think that helps?" Willow began, getting slightly agitated. "It was your evil twin that screwed her up. Great, you love each other. Well, love only conquers most.
It generally requires something extra to get to ‘all’."
"But..."
"But what, Angel?"
"We came so close, so many times before, after... After I cam back. So many times we almost..."
"But you didn’t, did you? You’ve got restraint of steel. Buffy knows that. You guys could neck like giraffes and she always knew she was safe with you. And now you have no reason to hold back."
"She thinks she’s not safe? I’d never hurt her. Not ever."
"More to hurt than just the physical, Angel. Besides, the damage is already pretty much done. She’s afraid of the salt in the wounds thing."
"No..." Angel breathed, realizing perhaps what was going on.
"Yes."
"He was lying, I swear on my mother’s grave he was lying. He hates me. A-A-And, Buffy made me happy for the first time in over two centuries, she made me truly happy, and he hates her for that. He just wanted to hurt her..."
"Well, congratulations, he did. And you, as the serious boyfriend after the serious asshole, get to reap the benefits. And the freakage." Willow rubbed her tired eyes once before finishing. "And now you know what’s going on, so now I’m going to sleep."
As she walked in, Angel started after her, brought up short at the doorway. "Wait, let me in," he cried softly, begging the red head. "Please, Willow, let me in."
She looked down, then back up and bit her lip. "I promised. I’m sorry, Angel. I promised." She swallowed and took the door handles in her hand. "Goodnight," she said before softly closing the doors, barring him two fold.
Angel slid down the doors and ended in a miserable heap with his head in his hands, listening to his love’s nightmares of himself.
*****
Buffy hesitated when she held the handle of the door. Why had Giles called to change the location? What on earth did Angel’s mansion have that the library didn’t? Other than rooms filled with nightmares, a basement filled with bondage equipment, and one all too horny boyfriend that even now was probably planning a seduction.
The slayer bit her lip as she thought of the last inclusion. Before Giles had had the great idea to ‘make her happy’, her life had been just fine. Admittedly not exactly rocking with happies, but it was okay. Stable. Or, at least as stable as one could ask for, being the savior of the world living over an opening to hell. Now she was doomed to see the love of her life look at her in disgust, disappointment and pity. Joy.
Well, not if she could help it.
Buffy loved Angel too much to ruin it now. She craved his companionship, his presence. The times when he was away were brutal, even if he was only missing for a few days. The Slayer wouldn’t make it if he were to actually leave for the long term. She’d been there, done that, and freaked accordingly.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the ever unlocked front door and stepped inside.
"Giles? You there?"
Buffy continued to walk into the front foyer, heedless of the silence, concentrating on trying to feel where Angel was in the house. And yet again, she couldn’t tell. Only when she walked into the main room did she see him and feel his presence.
Angel looked up from the book he’d been reading, his eyes completely neutral, void of the raw need that had been there the evening before. Buffy nearly sighed in relief and prayed for a confrontation free night. He smiled, a tiny little thing playing on his beautiful lips, and her heart leapt. The slayer broke out into smiles of her own, happy to see that perhaps things were back to normal.
When he nodded over to her and spread his arm out on the back of the couch, Buffy happily walked over and plopped herself down, her back leaning gently against his chest, but otherwise not touching.
"So. Where’s Giles?"
"Not here yet," came the soft, emotionless reply.
"So. What’s going on tonight?"
"I have no idea what Giles has planned."
"Oh. Freaky," she responded with much perk, only to fall silent a moment later. Buffy became intensely aware of the muscles beneath her shoulder blades, the slight chill she could feel. She could smell him, too. He smelled so clean and lickable... Buffy nearly shook her head to rid it of the dangerous thoughts. It wasn’t a place she wanted to go. Not necessarily because she didn’t want him. Rather because she did, and if she thought about it too much... Well, Buffy wasn’t the only one with a good sense of smell.
"Buffy?"
"Yea?"
"When was the last time I lied to you?"
"Huh?" the slayer responded, completely jarring her thoughts from their place.
"You heard me," came his antagonistic reply.
"Uh, I don’t know." Buffy thought about it for a moment. "You mainly pull evasive manoeuvers. Why?" She shifted in his embrace so her shoulder was to his chest. She wasn’t quite looking at him yet, but she was getting there.
"So, do you trust me not to outright lie?"
"Yea, I guess." She looked up quizzically. "What’s up?"
Angel shrugged and looked lazily at her through half closed eyes. "I just wanted to know how you would respond if I told you a truth you didn’t believe."
Buffy smirked. "You know I’m not gonna believe it? Confident, aren’t we?"
She could feel his shrug. "I know you. Sometimes I don’t pay attention like I should, but I know you."
Buffy giggled lowly. "Oookay. And this is going where?"
"I love you."
A soft smile came unbidden to her lips. "I love you too. Where’s this going?"
"I think you’re beautiful."
"That’s where this is going?" Buffy rolled her eyes. Such a big get up for such a little statement. "Angel, you’re weird."
"I think you’re sexy."
Her eyes may have bugged. She wasn’t sure. "Oh. That’s where this is going," the slayer responded softly. So much for a relaxed evening at home.
"I think you are desirable and utterly captivating," Angel announced just as softly, his hand resting lightly on her upper arm.
Buffy swallowed and managed to get out a weak, "Nice to hear."
"No, wait. I don’t."
"Excuse me?" Buffy squeaked, her heart beginning to break, just like last time.
"I know you are desirable and utterly captivating."
"Uhhh...." Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
"Buffy, you are one of the most interesting, vital, wonderful people I know. You have a real talent, and it saves lives. And besides being a slayer, you bring others joy. You make people laugh. You alleviate the sadness and loneliness of others. You are important to them, and you’re important to me, and I don’t understand why you can’t see that."
"I know I’m important," Buffy said pitifully, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I’m the Chosen One. Or, one of the chosen two..."
"And..."
"And, I know I have friends, and everything," she responded again, completely into being pitiful.
"And..."
"And, now and then I make a funny."
"And..."
"Okay. I like my friends, they like me." Buffy couldn’t seem to get the exasperation out of her voice, but it was bothering her less and less. "I got your point."
"That wasn’t my point."
Buffy sat away from him slightly and spun to see him fully.
"Then what is your point?"
"My point," Angel began forcefully, "Is that I love you, I desire you, and I want to make love to you. That is my point."
"Oh."
"And you don’t," he supplied oh-so-helpfully.
"I..."
"Yes?"
Buffy said nothing, looking down, her face burning with shame.
"Baby," Angel said, his voice getting soft, "The night of your birthday-"
Buffy jerked away, her eyes flying to his, filled with accusation. She couldn’t go through this again. Not with him. "No. I don’t want to hear it."
"-you were perfect," Angel finished forcefully, willing himself to be heard over her doubt.
"I..." -Wasn’t, her mind kept finishing. //You said I wasn’t. He said...// Buffy just couldn’t quite wrap her abused psyche around it.
"A moment of happiness, Buffy. You gave me a moment of happiness, remember? Several actually," the handsome man in front of her replied with a smile that she barely noticed.
Buffy slid to the opposite end of the sofa, wrapping her arms around her stomach. She was only dimly aware of the vampire near her, her mind was drowning in the memories that caused such pain.
‘You were a real pro.’ She’d loved him so much, given herself to him completely. Given him her virginity - the very last thing that was her own. It had been so special, and at the time... But no. He’d made it abundantly clear.
‘It’s not like I’ve never been there before.’ Well, that was great. Just great. It hadn’t been what she’d expected at all. He’d made her feel so good before... But obviously it hadn’t been mutual.
‘Bells ringing, fireworks, a dulcet choir of pretty little birdies?’ God, and his tone of voice - could he possibly have gotten more patronizing? Just rub it in a little more. How many other women had he made scream? What was she - one solitary virgin fuck - compared to the most certainly wide selection he’d had? How could she possibly measure up? Sure, it had been a huge turning point for her, but...
Well, Angelus made himself perfectly clear.
Buffy looked up, blinking back the tears that were teetering on the brink and realised that Angel was still talking. Suddenly, she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sit here and listen to his platitudes. Far too much like her mother, for one thing. Besides, his words just seemed to ring hollow. She’d heard the exact opposite from the same lips.
She sprang up from the couch and sprinted out from his presence, navigating the few twists before flinging the door open and making a mad dash with every ounce of her energy out into the night. With any luck, she’d be able to out run the pain of her memories.
*****
Angel was stunned. He’d professed his undying love, and she’d bolted. Apparently, simply telling her that it was okay to be a little scared wasn’t the way to go...
He snapped out of his amazement when he heard the front door slam, and gave chase. By the time he was out of the house and down the hill, he saw her round a corner. She was going so fast, it was as if hell was chasing her. As Angel ran closer to town, he realised that that was probably her mental image.
Part of his mind was trailing her, picking up her scent when she wasn’t visible, watching her intently when she was, but another, larger part of his mind was wondering if perhaps she didn’t need some space to work out what she was going through. In the end, it was only his desire to see her safe from harm that made Angel continue his pursuit.
Twenty minutes later, he found her hunched down and sobbing next to the sarcophagus on the West Monument. At his approach, she looked at him and her visage burned into his brain. Her face was flushed from the run, but her eyes were puffy from the tears, holding nothing but pain and accusation that he had caused. It stopped him in his tracks.
"Can’t you just leave it alone? Why..." her voice broke.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Buffy, I love you," Angel said, trying desperately to find a suitable way to explain. He was stopped before he could start by her actions. Buffy had flung her hands over her ears and begun to chant to herself, while rocking slowly.
"No more lies. No more lies. No more lies. No more lies..."
In complete frustration, Angel strode over to the woman he loved and crouched down to her level, ripping her hands away from her head, holding her wrists fast. "Is that what you think this is? You think I’m lying to you?"
Buffy nearly broke into a fresh round of tears, but Angel was too hurt himself to pay it more than a cursory mind.
"Buffy - answer me. Do you think I’m lying when I tell you I love you?"
Her breath hitched in before she answered negatively.
"Do you think I’m lying when I tell you that I want to make love to you?"
"I..."
"Do you?" he demanded roughly.
"No," she sniffed.
"So what’s the problem, then?" Angel growled.
A single tear streaked down Buffy’s face. After a moment, Buffy was able to softly whisper, "You’ll hate me afterwards."
Angel’s anger melted and he gathered her only slightly resisting form into his arms. "No, no, no, no... Baby," he crooned into her hair as she sobbed out all of her frustration into his shoulder. He shifted slightly, sitting against the monument, pulling her into his lap. She didn’t seem to notice.
"Shhhhh, Baby, shhhhh.... I could never hate you. Never." He rocked her in silence, holding his slayer and gently caressing her until her sobbing subsided. "I love you, Buffy. I don’t hate you now, and I won’t hate you afterwards. I swear."
The Chosen One hiccuped and sniffled into his chest.
"But... I’m mostly a virgin..."
"So?"
"You’ll only be disappointed," she whispered.
"I wasn’t disappointed last time. I don’t see why I should be now."
"But..."
"No buts," Angel said before pressing his lips gently against hers, tongue darting out to taste her salty lips. She mewled and opened her mouth to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
After only a moment of his tongue sliding deliciously over his lovers, Angel trailed his lips across her cheekbones, his tongue licking away the salty paths he found while his hands continued their soft caress of her back and hip.
"Angel, I..." Buffy began, but couldn’t seem to find the rest once Angel sucked lightly at the base of her neck.
"You what?" he whispered, licking the just above the blood that had risen to the surface.
"I... I want you. I think," she gasped apparently unprepared for the gentle assault on her collarbone, not seeming to realize that her shirt was nearly undone. Her fingers were clenched in his hair, holding him steady in his present position.
Instead of answering, Angel purred against her chest, nuzzling her, realizing that this was somewhere he would want to be, no matter what.
His tongue rasped over the lace covering her breasts and he delighted in her shudder. Worrying her nipple with his teeth, Angel eventually was able to unfasten her pants with one hand. His fingertips skimmed down her abdomen, not wanting his touch to shock her out of the state she was in. Trailing lower, his fingers buried themselves in her curls as he sucked strongly on the little bud between his lips. He found her dry clit, and dipped into her core to gather some of the wetness that had yet to seep out of her.
His slick fingers slipped over her tiny bundle of nerves, pinching it, battering it about. Angel could feel her pliant body becoming more and more tense as she neared her orgasm and heeded her cries when his mouth moved to the other breast, consoling himself with the moans of pleasure that followed directly after.
Angel felt his slayers hands clench against his back as she keened and squirmed on his lap. If the pleasure of bringing her to her peak hadn’t been enough to make him rock hard, the squirming would have finished him off. He bit back his own moan and ringed her face with kisses, eager to show how beautiful she was to him. He absorbed her blissful sigh and removed the bra from her now boneless body.
Angel grinned at the sudden bashfulness when his lover curled up in his lap, hiding her near nakedness in his chest. Raising her chin with a finger, he simply smiled, kissing her deeply, leaving her breathless. Afterwards, a slow smile creeped up across her lips, directly before she kicked off her shoes.
Taking what he hoped was a signal, he laid the slayer down on the marble, quickly stripping her pants off, and laying his face on her stomach. Just as he began to go lower, Buffy stopped him, a vice like grip on his shoulder.
"No," she said, looking unsure. "I want..."
Angel grinned. "What do you want?"
"I-I wanna feel you inside me."
Angel sat back on his heels and spread his arms. "You gotta undress me first."
Buffy took a corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and grinned. "I think I can handle that."
Angel watched as her slim fingers travelled down the front of his pullover sweater, lingering on his chest. She grabbed the hem of the layers he was wearing and gently pulled the garments up and over his head. The slayer grinned and tousled his hair before he felt their glorious warmth skim down his neck to linger once again on his chest. She drew little abstract patterns around his nipples, conspicuously avoiding them. Angel’s tongue darted out to moisten his suddenly dry lips, and he looked up at her, his eyes pleading with her to do whatever she wanted to.
She never noticed.
Angel soaked in her rapt attention to his body and felt his amazingly small ego swell slightly. Still absorbing his girlfriend’s reaction to him, he was caught off guard when her finger slid over the tiny nubbins, and gasped, eliciting a giggle. His gasp was shortly followed by a moan, when her tongue followed suit. Her fingers were busy traversing the slight ridges of his clenched abs and thereafter slid down to cradle the bulge below, following his model of diversion. It was for naught, however. Angel couldn’t have cared less if she’d out right ravaged him right there and then. In fact, he decided as her fingers fumbled with the button and zipper, he’d really enjoy being ravaged.
The whine was past his lips before he even realised there was potential for one. Her hands gone, she slipped off his shoes and put them next to the pile of clothes. She came back to him and raised her eyebrows in askance. Angel dutifully placed his palms on the marble and raised his hips slightly, wincing when his boxers caught his erection, but biting back any verbal outcry.
"There," Buffy said, suddenly seeming unsure again. "You’re undressed."
Angel grinned in spite of himself. He kissed her softly, his hands running up and down her body as they kneeled there together.
"Thank you," he murmured, once again laying her down on the cold marble and positioning himself over her now shivering body. "Now, lets see if I can warm you up any." His tongue melded with hers as he tenderly parted her legs and took his cock, rubbing it against her hot entrance, swallowing her moans. Angel entered her slowly, and just as slowly thrust until he was so deep he thought he’d down in her moist fire. He waited there for an impossibly long moment, giving her time to adjust to his girth. He began to move, gently at first, but she was so tight, and it had been so long... He didn’t want to pound mindlessly into her, but the inclination was there.
He felt her curl her legs around him and slipped deeper still. She gasped and broke off the kiss, throwing her head as far back as she could, arching her strong slight body into his larger one. Angel latched on to her neck with a possessive growl, his face still smooth. He slipped in and out of her tight heat, loosing himself in the sensations, deaf to all but the racing of her heart and her dove like cooing.
Angel gasped, loosing his hold on her neck when she clenched around him several times in succession. "God, baby, don’t do that."
Her entire body stilled. "I-I-I’m sorry," she stammered out.
He quickly looked up at her and growled, "I like it when you do that."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Then, why..."
"Too much." Angel smirked down at her. "You do much more of that and this interlude is going to end quite a bit sooner than I’d planned."
Angel swallowed a groan when her look changed to one of pure deviousness. She clenched tightly and rolled her hips up, arching to go as deep as she possibly could. A short few minutes later, Angel could feel his release begin to build and reached down, his fingers dancing over her clit.
Buffy’s whimpering escalated and Angel licked her neck, his tongue lapping the salt off her skin before retreating back between his now present fangs. He felt her body spasm and her hands press him into her neck, heard her cry out his name. He sunk into her neck, marking her for his own as he burst inside of her, attaining the sweet release he’d dreamed of for centuries in hell.
Their bodies rocked together in the dark, each draining the essence of the other into themselves until echoes of screeching and muffled moans dissipated against the unyielding stone that surrounded them.
"Love you, Buffy. Always. Always, always."
A contented sigh was the only response.
The End