Title: Wolf Pack
Chapter Title: The Courting
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.
Dedication: To my Auntie Elett. May you rest in peace.
Summary: Angelus continues his tries to courting Buffy with arousing sexual advances. Can Buffy resist his charms? Or will she finally fall?
Excerpt:
~Angelus: Must I court you in every room of the mansion?
~Buffy: I guess so.
~Angelus: Well, I can't wait to reach the bedrooms then.
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Angelus found Buffy in the kitchen a few days later, quietly humming a tune as she washed the breakfast dishes. Most of the pack members had left for either school or work. Only Angelus, Buffy, Wesley, Adia, and her baby daughter were left behind.
He quietly stalked towards her, not making a sound as he wrapped his strong arms from behind around her waist, causing her to gasp from the unexpected action.
"Hello, lover," he whispered huskily in her ear and gently nibbling on her lobe.
"You should really stop that," she moaned as she closed her eyes and fell back against him, acting on pure instinct.
Angelus growled and lifted her, placing her on the kitchen counter and settling between her legs. She gazed down at him with wide eyes, her hands and arms wet and soapy from her washing.
He stared into her eyes as he silently grabbed a towel and dried her limbs. "What are you doing?" Buffy choked out nervously.
He licked her almost trembling lips. "Cleaning you up."
"Get off of me. I have to wash the dishes," she said, struggling to keep a hold of her self-control in their current position.
It had been days since their encounter in the study, and she had taken it as a goal to stay away from him. And she had succeeded . . . until now that is. But during those days, she had missed him . . . missed watching him when he wasn't looking, or just hearing his voice whenever he talked on the phone or to one of the pack members. She didn't know it was possible to miss him so much . . . but it was, and her shocked happiness at seeing him and being so close to him was proof of it.
And Angelus was feeling the same thing. For days now, he had tried to spend just a second with her. And now . . . here was his chance. And he was not about to back away no matter how much she fought him . . . in which she wasn't doing much of at the moment. He had missed her terribly the last few days, just seeing her and touching her, even if it was only for just a moment was better than not being able to do it at all.
"Wash it later," he growled lightly, "I missed you. I never see you anymore."
"And I like it that way," she groaned when he began nuzzling her neck.
"You're lying."
"Not that it matters," she said truthfully as he threw the towel behind him and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing himself closer to her as he rested his head against her breasts and inhaled her smell. Instead of vanilla, apples, and baby powder and rain, she smelled like peaches and cream. From making the twins their usual pancakes with the whip cream topped on it along with fresh sliced peaches.
He growled at the new intoxicating scent of her.
"You smell like breakfast," he murmured and kissed the top of her breast that peeked slightly above her white corset with red flowers embroidered in the front and red string tying the material in the back. And as usual, she wore a skirt, this time denim and mid thigh with red leather boots.
"Never heard of that line before," she said and smiled.
"I'm full of them," he teased and gazed into her eyes, surprised to find a certain look of tenderness and fondness in her blue orbs.
"Yeah, full of yourself," she rolled her eyes, loving the fact that she could tease him and he wouldn't take it personally. He was like that, he teased, he flirted, but it was just that . . . especially to him.
Buffy tried to push him away, but he wouldn't have any of it as he stared at her with passion-glazed eyes. She was flirting back and smiling, a very good sign in his book. "Say you missed me," he ordered lightly.
"Now why would I do that?" she smirked.
"Because you have."
She glared at him. "How would you know?"
"My room is right next to yours," he smirked, "I hear you calling my name at night . . . even if it is along the lines of 'Angel' and not Angelus, but it's close enough."
Her eyes widened with embarrassment at the revelation. She DID NOT do that. He was lying . . . but the she knew better. Dreams of him had always come to her, she just never knew she ever verbalized it. Especially when the East Wing was completely devoid of any other pack members except for the two of them.
Angelus' grin widened.
"Now you're lying," she said.
"Am I?" he taunted as he showed off his pearly whites, " 'Cause I do remember that I have to fight with myself not to just get up from my lonely bed to go to yours and make you scream my name instead of moaning it."
"How are you so sure that I'll be a screamer?" she asked, hiding her anger and frustration, her arousal and her lust.
He shrugged. "With your temper and your flare, I just have a feeling," he replied.
"I have to finish washing the dishes," she said grumbled and hoped off the counter.
"I've upset you," Angelus noticed with a slight worry. They were teasing. She usually didn't take it so seriously anymore.
She shook her head and continued with her cleaning the breakfast dishes. "Don't you have some work to do?" Buffy asked him, wanting him to be as far away from her as possible. They had played around and she got over missing him, and she was satisfied and content for now.
"So eager to get rid of me, lover?" he asked and molded himself against her back as he rested his chin on her left shoulder.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" he asked with a slight chuckle. "Tell me something, what did you mean when you said that MAYBE you were finally accepting the fact that you're mine?"
Buffy sighed. "I'm accepting you as leader . . . As for a mate and a lover . . . "
"You'll get there, don't worry," he promised.
Buffy pulled away from him and wiped her hands on the carelessly tossed towel that had thrown on the kitchen table. She grabbed a bottle from the fridge and heated it in the microwave.
"Ignoring me?" Angelus asked with amusement as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.
"No," she answered and took out the bottle when it was finished. She checked the temperature of the milk before heading up the staircase with Angelus following right behind her.
He watched as her hips swayed as she walked up the stairs, the baby bottle in her hands. And a sudden vision of her with a rounded belly attacked his mind, and he growled at the thought. Every male, humans and wolves alike, have a certain instinct when it comes to a woman carrying his child. It was a natural thing, whether it was a large instinct or not . . . it was still there, especially in him . . . and especially if Buffy would be the one doing the carrying.
"Adia?" she knocked carefully on a door on the West Wing.
"Yes?"
Buffy opened the door and entered with a smile when she was met with a brunette laying on a canopy bed with a baby resting on her chest. It was a beautiful sight. "Morning," Buffy greeted.
"Good morning, Buff," she smiled, "I wasn't expecting you today, Angelus."
He smiled. "Why not?" he asked and stepped towards her to run a gentle hand against the baby's back.
"You've been busy."
"Things are starting to calm down a bit, so everything's a bit easier to deal with now," he said reassuringly.
She let out a breath of relief. "That's good to hear," she said.
"Here's a bottle for Abby and I also cleaned the other bottles and filled them up. They're ready and waiting in the fridge if you need anymore. Warm it for one minute, no second more, and just wait a few moments until it really cools down. But don't wait too long because it'll get cold and I know how fussy Abby can get when . . . "
"Breath," Angelus teased as he placed a large hand against the small of her back.
Adia laughed lightly, not wanting to wake up her baby girl. Buffy smiled embarrassedly. "Sorry, I'm just . . . "
Adia nodded in understanding. "I know."
"Well, we'll leave you to rest. Call us through the intercom if you need anything," Angelus said, gently leading Buffy away from the room.
She sighed as the two of them walked back down the staircase. "I want a baby," she thought out loud, causing her eyes to widen and look at him frighteningly.
Angelus smirked and stepped towards her. She backed away until she was pressed against the stair railings. "I can give you that, Buffy. Just accept me . . . let me have you. Be my mate."
She was silent as she opened her mouth to speak, but the doorbell suddenly rang and she ran down the stairs, her clicking of her red boots loud against the marble. She opened the door and was met with Wesley, who stood before her with flowers he had gathered in the garden.
"Put them in water," he said and handed the armload to her, "I'll be out on a walk through the graveyards," he said and turned and left.
"Got it," Buffy said, relaxing when she realized she just escaped another encounter with Angelus.
She walked towards the dining room next to the kitchen and picked a few single flowers before arranging them in a vase that sat in the middle of the cherry oak dining table.
"You can't keep running from me," Angelus said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed loosely against his chest.
"I'm not running," she said, her brows drawn together in concentration of what she was doing and what Angelus was doing to her senses.
"You are," he said when she walked past him with the remaining flowers in her arms as she made her way to the living room to arrange the remaining flowers she had in the vase on the glass coffee table.
"Must I court you in every room of the mansion?" he laughed.
"I guess," she ground out sarcastically with a fake smile.
"Well, I can't wait to reach the bedrooms then," he teased.
"Don't hold your breath," Buffy frowned.
He sighed and the nodded. He had to be patient. She was a fighter, and there was no way in hell she was just going to over herself to him without a fight. She wasn't like that . . . and that's why he enjoyed her so much.
Continue to Chapter 13: The Observation
Back to Chapter 11: The Survival