His intention had been to do nothing more than check on the man. He'd heard from Buffy about Giles almost getting scratched by a Te'Sal demon while they were on patrol, and Angel's mind had instantly taken him back to the time he had fallen prey to one of those. It was a lust demon, and the venom within the claws could make a human go insane with need. For a vampire . . . well, he'd just had a particularly fun week while the wound healed. All of his good intentions, however, were tossed by the wayside as soon as Rupert answered his door thirty minutes after Angel had watched Buffy sneak into her bedroom window.
"I need your help."
Hearing those words immediately come out of Rupert's mouth told Angel one thing, and one thing only: He had not almost been scratched by a Te'Sal demon, Giles had been scratched by a Te'Sal demon. Angel sighed and leaned against the invisible barrier between Rupert and himself in reminder that he could not enter without an invitation. Giles actually blushed a little as he invited Angel into his apartment and motioned the vampire toward the couch. "I was-"
"Scratched by a Te'Sal demon."
The older man blinked. "How did you know?"
"Happened to me once. Well, to Angelus. When Buffy told me you'd had a close call, I thought I'd come by and check on you."
"Ah," Giles didn't seem to know how to take that information. "I see."
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at Rupert's ever-polite manner, he said, "How bad is it? The scratch."
Giles lifted his shirt and showed the vampire the wound. It was small, only about three inches, and not deep enough even to scar. It was on his side, near his hip, and Angel could see now how Buffy had missed the fact that her Watcher had been injured. Already knowing the answer, Angel asked, "How do you feel?"
Rupert blushed again and seemed to be at a loss for words. "I am feeling the effects," he said finally. "But I have started brewing the antidote. It should be ready by morning."
By morning, however, Angel doubted that the man would be able to see, let alone measure the correct amount of poison neutralizing potion and drink it. "I'll stay," he offered. "If you don't mind. Just in case you . . . need help in the morning with the antidote."
It took Giles a full minute to nod, but he did finally agree. He supplied Angel with a pillow and a blanket and headed upstairs for bed shortly thereafter. Angel did his best to settle onto the couch to rest, but found himself quickly unable to even consider doing so. He was a creature of the night, after all. Rising, he walked around the apartment for a while until he found Rupert's weapon's chest. Smiling, he opened it and pulled out a few battle axes and supplies to clean and sharpen them. This, Angel decided, was productivity . . . or at least better than being bored out of his skull.
It wasn't until about three am that he heard Rupert cry out, and he only hesitated a few moments before heading up the stairs to check on the man. He found Giles sweating, writhing, and dreaming . . . lost completely in his own lust-tinged world. Arousal filled the air, the scent almost overwhelming Angel, and he knew there was no way he could just walk away. He could blame it on Rupert's condition, blame it on the scratch and, in the morning, he would. They both would. But for now, he could admit fully that he was moving toward the bed because he wanted to.
Brief awareness, permission, and need shone from the eyes gazing back at him when he woke Rupert. A plea fell from the man's lips, "Please, Angel. Help me."
Naked skin was revealed, body parts explored, and skin was tasted; the need was there under everything else, Rupert's need for release. That was what spurred Angel on. That was what had him swallowing around Giles' cock as the man came. Nor did he resist when Rupert's arousal came back almost instantly, and he was pushed down onto the mattress, intent blazing in Rupert's eyes. There was little preparation, but that didn't matter. The burn was as good and as hot as ever, causing Angel to thrust himself back into Rupert's body harder and harder until they were both completely spent. It continued like that for the rest of the night, the two of them alternating roles as though they fucked casually all the time . . . as though this wasn't the first time. And in the morning, once the antidote was administered and Giles began to come back to himself, his hand gripped Angel's wrist as the vampire turned to leave, saying he'd find his way home through the sewers. "You can stay until sunset."
Angel half-smiled as he turned back to the bed. That was as much of a thank you as he was going to get and he knew it, but . . . that was just fine with him.
"What is it with you?"
The question assaulted his ears as soon as he walked into his apartment, and Angel glared at the boy in the corner. "Is there a reason you've added breaking and entering to your list of ways to annoy me?"
"I just don't get it."
"Don't get what, Xander?"
Angel shrugged off his coat and walked over to the fridge to warm up some blood. He needed to eat, and if the kid didn't like it he could leave. He barely looked at him, other than to make sure his unwanted guest did not have a stake in his hand. After a moment, he asked his question again, because Xander had apparently forgotten how to speak. "Don't get what?"
"What it is about you that makes all the women in my life crazy."
Angel blinked at that. The bold statement had caught him off guard. "What?"
"Well, there's Buffy, obviously. And Cordelia thinks you're the . . . what'd she say? Oh, right. That you're the hottest bit of salty goodness south of LA." He took a breath. "And now! Now, you're going to see Willow in the middle of the night? What the hell, man?"
Angel rolled his eyes, annoyance creeping in with the ego boost he'd just received. "I did not go over there in the middle of the night. It was after eleven, but it was not the middle of the night."
"But you still went over there!"
"To get information about Ford. The idiot who almost got everyone killed? Remember him?"
Xander stood up and walked over to lean against the wall next to Angel. The blood in the microwave dinged, but Angel did not move to get it. He could smell Xander more clearly now. There was real curiosity there, but there was also a little bit of lust, and that intrigued him. "Why did you come over here, Xander?"
"I don't know. To tell you to leave them alone?"
Angel smirked. "I don't think so."
He took a step closer, inching forward slowly until he was right up in Xander's face. "You want to know what it is? Want to know why I've got all your girls going crazy?"
Xander swallowed. "Maybe."
Angel leaned forward and licked a line up Xander's throat, causing the boy to jump. "Oh, hey! None of that! Back, demon!"
"That really only works if you have a cross in your hand." Angel was amused. "Besides, if you really wanted to get away from me, you would."
Xander did not move, and Angel took that as permission, whether it truly was or not. "This is why," he said softly before pressing his lips to Xander's.
There was no response at first, but Angel had not expected there to be. He traced a line over Xander's bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling gently, easing him into the sensation of having another man kiss him. Then, like a dam had opened up, Xander was kissing him back. Really kissing. Angel's hand gripped the back of his head, holding him closer, and Xander's fingers dug into his shoulders. They kissed for long, heated moments, and Angel was about to throw the boy over his shoulder and carry him to the bed when Xander broke the kiss suddenly. "Fuck!"
"That what you want?"
He'd said it with a leer, and Angel knew it. Xander's eyes widened dramatically and he shook his head violently. "No. Fuck off. And . . . forget this ever happened. I was never even here! If anything about this ever gets out, I will find a way to kill you."
Angel waited until Xander was gone before letting the chuckle escape him. The boy would be back eventually. They always came back eventually.
It would have been so easy. Riley had him pushed up against the alley wall, bodies pressed together. They'd been fighting for at least twenty minutes, one on one, full-on combat. Even Angel was breathing a little heavily, and he didn't need oxygen at all. He could feel the long hard press of the erection against his leg and knew Riley could tell he was aroused as well. Yes, it would have been so easy. Move in for the kill, lips on lips, a new kind of battle.
Would he have spread Riley wide and taken him against a wall? Would he have made the soldier scream? Would the man have shuddered in pleasure, cried out for more, begged Angel to fuck him harder? Or would Riley have taken him on the dirty ground of that alley? Angel on his hands and knees, Riley pounding into him from above, thinking he was the one in control when it was really Angel controlling the speed, the angle . . . which one of them would have come first? It would have been so easy to find out. So very easy.
The drive back to Los Angeles was even more quiet than usual. Angel did not turn on the radio once. He merely fingered the bruises that dotted his arms, the bruises he could feel on his legs and sides, and wondered what would have happened if he'd just taken a chance.
He knew she was attending UCLA, but she was in the middle of her junior year before he saw her. He had busted up a gang of vampires about to attack the club she was at and, well, he'd have known those blue eyes anywhere. She grinned at him as she crossed the room and offered to buy him a drink. He made a crack about her being barely legal, and she'd slapped him on the arm harder than he'd thought she was capable of. He let her buy him a beer, but he paid for the appletini she ordered. They tried to find a table quiet enough to talk, but never managed it, so Dawn said goodbye to the friends she came with and agreed to let him walk her home.
Home, as it turned out, was a small apartment that she shared with an overprotective German Shepherd named Tuesday. Angel got the joke immediately and chuckled a little as he let the dog sniff his feet and hands while Dawn got herself some water. Thirty minutes later, Angel knew more about what had happened to the so-called Scoobies after the fall of Sunnydale than he'd learned from a whole variety of other sources over the years. They were all still alive, for the most part. A couple of the younger slayers who had survived the fall of the hellmouth had died, Kennedy included, but everyone else was doing well. He also found out that Dawn was a double major in ancient languages and mythology and would not stop going to school until she had her doctorate in both. He grinned at that and told her she was a glutton for punishment. She just smiled and didn't deny it.
Later, when he got home, he would still not be able to figure out how it had started. He wouldn't be able to remember which one of them kissed the other first. It just happened. One minute they had been talking about one of her classes and the next they'd been kissing. She'd been straddling his lap and grinding down onto his erection like a very good lap dancer, and it did not occur to him once to ask her where she'd learned to do that. He would remember that it was the look of lust she'd fixed him with, the way her pupils were completely blown to the point that there was barely any blue left in her eyes, that caused him to push her down onto the couch. He'd inched her skirt up slowly enough that she could stop him if she wanted to, but she'd just whimpered a little as his hand moved higher and higher.
She tasted like honey and sunshine and fire and just a little bit like Buffy, but he would never tell her that. Her entire body shuddered when she came, and she'd looked at him with heavy lidded eyes when she'd finally come down from her orgasm high. "If I reciprocate, will you lose your soul?"
He'd just grinned, and shook his head. Willow had quietly seen to that a few years before. He'd sworn her to secrecy because, at the time, he didn't want Buffy to feel obligated to leave her life to run back to him. "No," he told Dawn. "I'm good. But . . . you don't have to."
It was her turn to grin then. She unbuttoned her shirt slowly, revealing a lacy black bra that matched the panties Angel had ripped off of her and discarded. She left the skirt on as she straddled his cock, and he couldn't help but moan when she kissed him, her tongue seeking out the taste of herself inside his mouth. And when he felt her surround him - that first sweet, complete plunge - his hands gripped her hips tightly. She rode him like she'd done it dozens of times before, and once again he did not ask her where she'd learned the tricks she was using. It wasn't until she whispered in his ear, a direct order delivered softly, "Angel, I want to be able to feel you inside me for a week. Let go and fuck me," that he lost control. Pulling out and picking her up only long enough to carry her to her bedroom, Angel kicked the door shut in the dog's face before doing exactly what Dawn had asked him to do.
And, the fact that they met up for repeat performances every so often was something neither one of them ever felt inclined to tell Buffy.
What started out as an innocent comment had intensified into one of the most erotic experiences of Willow's life. Her skirt was bunched up, her back was pressed hard against the wall, her legs were wrapped around Angel's waist, and neither one of them had even attempted to end their kiss for several long minutes. She could feel his erection pressing against her and Willow moaned when he thrust his body closer to hers. She unfastened his pants deftly, and finally broke the kiss as she pulled his cock free. "Goddess above, Angel, I want you inside of me."
"Thought you'd never ask," he smirked playfully.
Neither one of them said a word about stopping. Angel ripped her panties from her body, and groaned when his fingers dipped inside her pussy and he discovered exactly how badly Willow did want him. There was no more waiting. He thrust into her hard and fast, his pace almost brutal from the start. Willow cried out as his fingers found her clit at the exact moment he entered her. The pleasure and pain of it all was almost too much, and she clung to him as she rode out the sensations.
Willow had no idea that Angel had fantasized about bedding her almost since the moment he first saw her. She had no idea that, in those fantasies, she was always begging him for more by the time he finally took her, before he finally gave in, and he was always so tender. Willow had no idea that this frantic coupling against her living room wall was so far a cry from what Angel had always pictured that his demon was crowing in the triumph of getting what it had always wanted of her. Willow knew only of her pleasure, of Angel's pleasure, and of her need for more. More. She wanted more. Needed more. Had. To. Have. More. Angel growled a second before he thrust into her even harder and Willow realized then that her plea had transferred from her thoughts into actual words. She cried out, her eyes rolling back in her head as he thrust faster, harder, over and over. She was teetering on the edge of something huge, something she'd never felt before.
"Willow," Angel's voice broke through the fog of pleasure. "Come for me. Come now."
His words, husky and commanding, combined with his unending attention to her clit, left her with no other choice. She did as he bid, screaming out his name as she shuddered in his arms. She felt his lips at the corner of her mouth and turned her head to kiss him fully, panting a little. "Angel . . ."
He looked at her, his eyes tinged with yellow, and that's when she knew. She knew she wasn't just dealing with Angel. She was dealing with Angelus as well. This was something . . . she was something that they both wanted. She licked her lips. "More."
He just grinned at her, and she knew he had no intention of stopping. He would fuck her into the wall until all she felt was him, until she was bruised and limp in his arms. He would make her his. She did not know, however, what he would do when he was done. She did not know that he would clean them both up, carry her to her bed, and let her fall asleep in his arms. She had no idea he would wake her up with his tongue and his fingers and would worship her until she begged for more. Willow did not know that, now that he had her, Angel (and his demon) had no intention of ever letting her go. They were going to keep her. She would be theirs forever and would never get away.
Never.
END