Still Life

His lover had quite an imagination.

That was the first thought that entered Angel’s mind when he stepped into the church and saw Kate’s naked, lifeless body hanging from the cross that hung above the altar. Two wooden stakes held her hands against the wood, and two more held her ankles. Blood flowed in a thick dark river from the stake embedded deep into her heart, and from the dozens of whip lashes that marred her perfect skin, dripping onto the pristine white marble beneath. Two perfect sets of fang marks decorated her body, one over the vein in her neck, the other just above the nipple of her right breast.

Part of him wondered if he should be sorry that Kate, a friend and partner, was dead, if he should feel horror for what was done to her. But all he felt was pure appreciation, pride even, for the woman who had created such a glorious work of art.

Oh, yes, Buffy was wickedly creative. It was one of the many reason he loved her.

"You like?"

Angel turned at the sound of her voice, smiling slightly when he saw the Slayer emerge from the darkest corner of the cathedral. The black leather catsuit hugged her body like a second skin, displaying every luscious curve. The front was unzipped almost to her navel, providing him a tantalizing view of breasts the color of honey. Her golden hair was piled up on her head, exposing the graceful length of her neck, and he could just make out the scars above her jugular that he himself had made. She was absolutely stunning, a masterpiece in her own right, and his desire for her increased tenfold.

"Perfect," he said, commenting on more than just her work as she sauntered to him. "Someone’s been quite the little student."

Buffy smiled, her eyes drifting briefly to the woman on the cross. When she looked back at Angel, her eyes were sparkling with amusement. "I had a good teacher."

"The whip marks were a nice touch," her remarked as he studied the body.

Buffy shrugged. "They made her scream," she said simply. "Besides, it was fun."

When she was close enough, Angel grabbed her around the waist, hauling her to him. "I missed you," he told her, his brown eyes growing darker.

Buffy buried her fingers in his hair, pulling his head roughly to hers. "I missed you, too," she said before her lips devoured his in a bruising kiss.

Angel accepted his punishment, making no attempt to deepen the kiss until Buffy’s lips softened above his. His lips parted beneath hers and her tongue plunged into his mouth and the taste of her flowed through him. She tasted like sunshine and warm summer breezes, but there was a tinge of danger and darkness just underneath the innocence.

He growled low in his throat and pulled away. "Play time later," he said, smiling when she made another attempt to stall him. "We have one more piece to look at."

Just then a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the church, reminding Buffy of what they were really there for. With one last kiss, she reluctantly pulled out of Angel’s arms.

"Where is he," she asked, excitement clear in her voice.

Angel grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the confessionals. "Want to do the honors," he asked when they reached the cubicle.

Buffy wasted no time. She pulled back the curtains, her lips curling up in a satisfied smile when she took in the sight before her.

Riley sat naked on the seat in the confessional, but he was not alone. Three female vampires were with him, each engaged in a seperate activity. One vampiress had her fangs buried deep into Riley’s neck, slowly draining the life from his body. Another was straddling his thighs, moving launguidly upon him as he thrust weakly beneath her. Her fangs were sunk into his chest, right above his heart. The last female was busy biting into his thighs, watching in fascination as the blood ran down from the numerous wounds she’d inflicted. Riley’s hands were bound above his head with white silk scarves stained red from the blood flowing from wounds from the daggers holding his hands to the wall.

The scent of the Slayer’s arousal was strong in the air, and Angel stepped closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around her waist. One hand moved up her body to slip inside the leather suit to cup her breast.

"You like," he repeated her question as his thumb idly stroked her nipple.

Buffy stepped back and was rewarded with the feel of his hard length pressing insistently against her. "I like," she replied breathlessly as her body responded to Angel’s touch.

"I’m glad," Angel whispered as he took her earlobe into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Exhibit’s over," Buffy announced, her arms encircling Angel’s neck to bring his lips down to hers. She moaned against his mouth when his free hand moved down her body beneath the leather. "Can we play now?"

Angel backed them away from the confessional. "Most definitely," he answered, pulling Buffy on top of him as he fell backwards onto a pew.

And soon the only sounds issuing forth from the church were the passionate cries of the Slayer and her vampire.