Tears pricked Buffy's eyes and she burrowed into the strong frame of his body, feeling the delicious vibrations of his purr.  "I love you too," she said, pressing a kiss over his heart.

Angel moved his hand, tracing the edge of her jaw.  Ever so lightly, he coaxed her chin up so he could look her in the eye.  Even in the dim lighting, her could tell her face was stained with a blush, her eyes wide, her mouth tender and pouting.  He pressed a gentle, closed-mouth kiss to her lips.  Buffy sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as she kissed him back.  His lips tasted faintly metallic, coppery, but not like blood - or at least not the way she had imagined it would taste after kissing a vampire that had just fed.

Angel nipped lightly at her lips, coaxing, playing.  She was young and unpracticed and he knew she was doubting herself, wondering if her wild abandon made him think less of her.  He didn't verbally disabuse her of the notion, knowing it would only embarrass her further.  Instead, he chose to physically show her how much he reveled in her reactions.  He let his body respond to hers readily, not holding back.  Buffy nibbled at his lips and he allowed her to coax them apart.  Her tongue swept in, exploring and he made a quiet, helpless sound.  Rolling onto his back once again, he pulled her on top of him, never breaking the kiss.  She was straddling him once more, their pelvises pressed together.  Buffy pulled away, pushing herself into a sitting position and looked down at him, her lips parted as she panted lightly.  Her expression was tentative, nervous.

He smiled at her, doing nothing to prevent it from verging on a leer.  He ran one of his hands through her tousled hair and then skimmed it down her neck.  He continued down her body, just brushing the edge of her breast as his hand traveled downward until it rested on her hip.  He rocked her pelvis against his as he thrust upward lightly, letting her feel the force of his arousal. "I like you like this," he said, his voice low and throaty.

She bit down on her bottom lip and closed her eyes.  A slow smile spread across her features and her eyes fluttered open again.  The heat in her gaze made his body tighter.  "I can tell," she said, as she rocked against him.

Angel arched slightly underneath her, moving into the contact.  Very deliberately, he moved his other hand up to cup her cheek.  Lightly he rubbed her cheekbone with his thumb.  Buffy's expression sobered as she met his gaze.

"You are my world," he said sincerely.

She smiled and then leaned forward, kissing him deeply.  "Love me," she whispered against his lips.

"I do," he said breathily.

She pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye.  Her expression was sheepish and a blush crept into her cheeks.  "No," she said, "I mean ... "

A feral expression stole over his features and he clasped her upper body to him with one arm as he rolled them over so he was doing a sort of half pushup over her as she lay on her back on the bunk.  His elbows rested on either side of her head and he arched his pelvis against hers.  She mewled, her neck bowing as her eyes screwed shut with the delicious friction.  Her hands came up to clasp his upper arms and her short fingernails dug into the corded muscle of his biceps.  She was panting heavily as she relaxed underneath him, finally opening her eyes to meet his gaze.  A look of pure masculine satisfaction was etched on his face.

"I know what you meant," he purred.

Buffy swallowed harshly, but did not look away.  Angel dropped his head and kissed her again, stopping only when she was gasping for breath.  He placed one last nipping kiss against her tender pink lips and then abandoned them for new territory.  Buffy's fingers twisted in the hair at the nape of his neck as he kissed his way down her throat, nuzzling his beard roughened skin against the satiny texture of her own creamy flesh.

He stopped at the site of his feeding - his mark - gently laving the area with his tongue as he purred loudly.  Despite how gentle his intentions had been, the bite was deep, the flesh rent.  Already, it was bruising a rich, dark array of colors, black, purple and yellow.  Angel knew the Council had injected Buffy with drugs.  Though the drugs did not affect him, he could taste them in her blood, a sweet, cloying aftertaste to her pure essence.  The Cruciamentum drugs created millennia ago, were designed to impair a Slayer's healing and strength as well as reflexes.  He knew that because of the drugs, if she lived long enough to heal, she would always bear his mark.  In its weakened state, her body would be unable to thoroughly repair the damage he had inflicted.  The knowledge should have bothered him, made him ashamed of his actions, but it didn't.  The idea of her flesh marred with his brand excited him.  Other vampires would see her neck and know that she belonged to him.  With a wicked smile, he thrust lightly against her as he licked the slowly healing flesh, savoring dreams of a future he knew they would not have.

Uncontrollably, she tightened her grip on his hair as she arched her neck and upper back, offering him more of herself.  Angel growled in appreciation but moved away from his mark, kissing across her collarbone.  The shirt she wore was a tanktop, but it still covered quite a bit.  He pressed kisses to the bare flesh of her upper chest, but then stopped and proceeded to nuzzle lightly against her fabric-obscured breasts.  He went still with his face pressed against the soft material of her shirt.  Raising his eyes, he met her gaze.

In spite of their mutual attraction and adoration, they had only been intimate a couple of times.  Angel's feeding from her had been very arousing, but sexually they never ventured this far.  Buffy's hands were still curled around his neck, but they trembled as she read the raw hunger in his eyes.  She was afraid, more of the unknown than of Angel.  She knew he would never hurt her, never do anything that she wasn't comfortable with.  Shakily, she let go of him.  He pushed himself up on his arms, prepared to move off of her when she twisted her fingers in the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.

Angel swallowed audibly, watching as her hair fluttered slowly back to rest on her now bare shoulders.  Slowly, he lowered himself over her once again.  Buffy was an adult.  She knew what she was agreeing to, in theory if not actuality.  He trusted her to stop him if he went too fast or too far.  But he could not help but be urged on by the knowledge that this was their only night together.

She was breathing hard and each breath caused her chest to heave deliciously.  Angel dropped his gaze and a blush coated Buffy from head to toe.  She hadn't exactly dressed for the occasion.  Not that she really owned any sort of underwear that could have been deemed "sexy", but a plain white cotton bra was definitely on the tame side.  It didn't even have any lace or a bow.

Just as Buffy opened her mouth to voice an excuse, Angel lowered his lips and kissed the valley between her breasts.  She gasped, instinctively grabbing his shoulders.  His gentle assault continued as he kissed the inner slope of her breast, using his teeth and tongue to worry the skin.  A breathy whimper issued from her throat and he purred in response.  Ever so cautiously, he worked his tongue under the fabric of her bra, laving the bare flesh beneath.  Buffy hissed in pleasure, arching into his touch and he used the opportunity to move his large hands under her back.  Very adeptly, he unhooked the clasp of her bra and slowly slid his hands around to her side, pulling the straps down her shoulders as he went.

He looked into her eyes, holding her gaze as he shifted his weight onto one arm and used the opposite hand to pull the garment away, leaving her bare.  Goosebumps raised on her skin and she shivered slightly as the cool night air swirled around them both.  She was horribly aware of how vulnerable, how naked, metaphorically and literally she felt.  He watched the muscles in her throat work as she swallowed convulsively.  Slowly, he dropped his gaze to her chest.

Buffy looked away, turning her head to the side so she could stare at the torchlight flickering on the stone wall.  She waited for his appraisal, his reproach, the hurt she was accustomed to experiencing at male hands ... but instead she felt the cool, reverent slide of his lips across her bare breast.  He whispered her name as if he were uttering a prayer.  Her eyes screwed shut at the sensation and she made a high cooing noise as her fingernails bit into the corded muscle of his shoulders.  Angel kissed her, suckling at her flesh and when he pulled her pebbled nipple between his teeth, worrying it roughly, it tore a gasp from Buffy's throat.  She arched into him and he nursed at her flesh, using his teeth, his tongue, his lips to imbibe her essence.

He nursed at one breast for long moments and then dragged his lips and tongue across her chest to gently assault its twin while he cupped his recently abandoned territory in his large palm.  One of Buffy's hands left his shoulder, skimming across his skin to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck once again.  She held him to her as she shifted underneath him, cradling him more fully between her thighs and wrapping one of her slender legs around his.  He was hard, insistent, his rigid flesh pressed between their bodies.  Buffy's head lolled on the bunk as sensations assaulted her, Angel's mouth on her breast, Angel's hips rubbing against hers.

With an impatient sound, he pushed himself up until he was kneeling between her thighs on the narrow bunk.  He reached for her ankle, cradling her foot in his hand as he quickly worked the laces of her boot free.  Buffy smiled at the absolute concentration on his face and fought the urge not to cross her arms over her chest.  When the boot was finally free, he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder, quickly doing the same with her sock.  He repeated the action with her other foot and was crouched over her, kissing her before she knew what was happening.

He held himself above her, his weight supported on his knees and elbows, but his chest brushed against her tender nipples and Buffy broke the kiss, gasping.  Angel took the opportunity to make his decadently sensuous way down her body, but this time he didn't stop to languish at her breasts.  He took mouthfuls of the creamy flesh of her torso into his mouth, sucking and licking as he made his way ever lower.  He stopped just above the waistband of her ragged cargo pants and pressed hard kisses to the taut flesh of her belly.  He nipped and licked the skin.  His hands came down to gently massage her hips and waist.  Slowly, he looked up and met her gaze.

Buffy looked at him, her lips parted slightly as she panted.  Her long locks streaming across her bare chest, glimmered in the torchlight.  Slowly, her tongue came out to wet her lips.  She could read the question in his eyes and ever so slowly nodded her reply.  Angel grinned against her skin and his talented fingers had the buttons undone and were skimming both her pants and  panties down her thighs in short order.

Buffy raised her hips to facilitate his actions and screwed her eyes shut as she heard the material pool on the cold stones.  Angel knelt on the floor next to her discarded clothing, his upper body crouched over her legs, his hands resting on her now bare hips.  She opened her eyes and looked at him.  Holding her eye contact, he lowered his head, nuzzling in the curve of her hipbone as he kissed the warm, fragrant flesh.  Moaning, Buffy arched against him, her eyes falling shut again.  He chuckled lightly and changed his grip on her hips, pulling back far enough that his torso was between her spread legs, his hands under her thighs, grasping her, lifting her to his mouth as her legs draped across his muscled back.

Blushing furiously, Buffy moved restlessly on the bunk.  She couldn't believe he was doing this.  She was scandalized, but also undeniably excited.  With very deliberate actions, he kissed his way from her hipbone to her weeping core.  Buffy shivered as his unnecessary breath tickled against the downy hair that covered her sex.  With aching slowness, he pressed a kiss against her netherlips.  A wailing cry broke from Buffy's throat and her hips rolled against him uncontrollably.

Angel chuckled in absolute glee at the situation, reveling in her response.  Her hips strained against him in an expression of physical need and he dedicated himself to assuaging her desire.  His tongue parted her lips slowly, lapping at her core in long, languid licks.  Buffy gasped, her eyes pressed shut tightly as her fingers instinctively twined through his hair.  He growled as her fingers twisted to the point of pain and her entire body shivered at the sensation.  His fingers bit into her hips harder, clutching her to him, lapping at her more insistently.  Her head lolled restlessly on the pillow as he found her nub with his lips, drawing it into his mouth, teasing it mercilessly with his tongue.  His right hand moved against her and his thumb and index finger parted her lips while he used his middle finger to test her, probing shallowly inside her body.

Buffy wailed, pressing her pelvis against him wantonly as she clamped down on his invading finger.  He groaned at the sensation.  She was tight, so tight and very, very responsive.  He pressed further inside her, teasing her sensitive sheath.  Her body was ever so liquid and her wetness glistened on Angel's face as he suckled at her, mindless of everything save her pleasure. He basked in joy over her response, delighting in her acute need of him.  Part of him would have liked to draw the experience out, to prolong her sensual torture, but that was something for lovers with infinite time.  Time was the one thing he and Buffy did not have.  He suckled harder, pressing his finger inside her as her body went taut with climax, her hand pulling on his hair as her back arched, her mouth open in a soundless wail.

When the world righted itself again, Buffy was breathing heavily, her chest covered with a fine sheen of perspiration as Angel continued to kiss and nuzzle at her hips and thighs, mindful of more sensitive parts.  Her boneless fingers were still twined in his hair.  She took a deep breath and Angel's vision shot to hers.  Her wetness still glistened on his face and Buffy blushed from head to toe.

He smiled at her and it was a carnal, knowing expression that warmed her more than the blush.  Slowly, he released her, standing at the foot of the bunk.  She watched as his hands found the clasp to his rumpled, black trousers.  She watched his long, white fingers work the buttons and couldn't help remembering where those fingers had been only moments before.  She blushed again, closing her eyes involuntarily.

"Open your eyes, Buffy," he said quietly, gently.

She did as he wanted, meeting his gaze meekly.

He smiled at her, but it was tinged with an undeniable sadness.  "There's nothing to be ashamed of," he said.  "I only wish I had the time to prove that to you."

She shook her head.  "It's not ... I'm not ashamed," she assured him.  "It's just ... I've never ... "  She cleared her throat and said firmly, "I'm not ashamed."

Angel smiled at her again and this time it was happy.  She smiled in return and it took on a rather brazen quality.  She waggled her eyebrows at him.  Throwing his head back, Angel laughed loud and deep.  He looked at her again, grinning like a maniac.  "Why Miss Summers," he asked, "are you flirting with me?"

Saucily, she looked down at her naked body.  "I'd say I'm doing significantly more than flirting," she said.  She looked at him wickedly for a moment.  "Or I would be, if you could be bothered to take your clothes off."

He looked at her hungrily.  "Anything you want," he said with faux resignation.

As his fingers returned to the fly of his pants, the jovial air dissipated, replaced by something much more weighty.  Biting down on her bottom lip, Buffy watched as the last of the buttons was undone.  Slowly, he worked the coarse material down his hips, well aware that he was performing for an audience.  The material slid down his legs, pooling around his bare feet and Buffy took a deep breath as he was finally bare to her view.

She watched, her heart beating in her throat as he slowly moved back to the bunk, looking every inch the predator that she knew he was.  And there were a lot of inches.  She forced her attention to his face, but the sight of his rigid sex was more than a little ... intimidating.  She swallowed harshly.  She let out a tiny, breathy gasp as he began crawling up the bunk, sliding his naked flesh along hers.  Buffy shivered at the sensation of his bare skin against hers, pressed length to length, hot to cool.

He tunneled his fingers through her hair, cradling her head, forcing her to look at him as he lay half on top, half beside her, his knee insinuated possessively between her legs.  Buffy stared into the deep chocolate depths of his irises.  He was panting hard, as overwhelmed by the sensation as she.  Slowly, she raised her hand, using her fingertips to gently trace along the side of his face.

"I love you," she whispered.

He shook his head gently, as if words escaped him.  "You can never understand how absolutely precious you are to me," he said.

He bent his head and kissed her, deeply and thoroughly.  His tongue explored her mouth, her teeth, rubbing against her tongue in a prelude of things to come.  Carefully he shifted, slipping fully between her thighs, his weight supported on his elbows which were braced just outside of her shoulders.  Buffy moaned sharply at the sensation of his body pressed against hers so intimately.  He made no move to enter her, merely rubbing against her.  He felt even harder now, and big, so big.

Angel used one hand to turn her head towards his.  Gently, he kissed her lips.  His thumb idly caressed her cheek.  "I want you," he said baldly.

She smiled at him and let out a shaky breath.  "I want you too," she said.  "I'm just ... "

"I won't hurt you," he promised, kissing her again.

Part of Buffy's brain knew that statement was an impossibility, but she didn't argue.  Instead, she responded eagerly to the kiss, running her fingers over the bare skin of his shoulders and back.  She had never felt anything so miraculous in her life as being pressed against him, touching him, exploring him with no hindrances.  This was going to be her only chance to be with him and she had every intention of making the most of it.  She ran one hand down his side, tickling along his ribcage and biting her short fingernails into his hip.

Angel broke the kiss and pulled his head back far enough to look into her eyes.  He read the unspoken question and smiled.  Carefully, he shifted, moving his weight onto the hip opposite from the one she was touching.  He took her diminutive hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing each of her knuckles in turn.  Gently, he turned her hand over and kissed her fingertips and then lavished her palm with wet, open-mouthed kisses.  His tongue snaked out to lave her salty flesh.  Once again, their eyes met and Angel moved her hand with deliberate, aching slowness down his body.  He trailed her fingertips over his chest, shivering as they touched his nipples, down the washboard firmness of his abs and slowly, wrapped her hand around his sex.

They both shuddered with the contact and Angel threw his head back, panting harshly.  He released her hand, gripping the sides of the bunk tightly in both of his fists as he fought the urge to thrust into the contact.  Buffy felt the rigid length of him, grasping him lightly.  He was big and firm and the skin was surprisingly soft.  Tentatively, she moved her hand on his shaft, touching him ever so lightly.  Angel gasped and ground his teeth together, every muscle in his body corded with tension.

Buffy abruptly stilled her hand.  "Am I hurting you?" she asked, mortified.

Angel bit down on his bottom lip and shook his head violently, his eyes pressed tightly shut.  "No," he gasped.  "It doesn't hurt."

For a moment Buffy's brow furrowed until she realized that it obviously felt good.  Really good.  A feeling of intense power rolled through her.  Slowly, she gripped him again, watching emotion play across his face as she slowly worked her palm up his shaft.  She trailed her fingers over the bulbous head of his sex, running the tip of one finger over the slit, feeling the moisture seeping from it.  Angel shuddered.  Buffy gripped him again, wrapping her fingers around him, but using her thumb to rub over the head, to slowly swirl the weeping fluid.

"Buffy," he gasped, opening his eyes to look at her.  He was panting harshly.  His hand wrapped around her wrist, stilling her motions.

She smiled innocently at him.  With a groan, he kissed her, releasing her wrist to grab her head in both of his hands, holding her still while he molested her mouth with abandon.  She released him, using her hands to grip his shoulders, biting into the corded muscle insistently.  Angel broke the kiss, still panting harshly.  He looked at Buffy, his eyes burning with need.

Her lips mouthed his name silently and he kissed her again, shifting his weight, settling between her legs.  Buffy moaned into his mouth as his hips rocked, pressing his firmness where she needed him the most.  Instinct took over and she rolled her hips, pulling her knees back to open herself to him.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips before kissing her again.  His hips pressed forward and she felt the head of his sex enter her.  He was large and she was untried, so pain was unavoidable.  But the physical discomfort was greatly overshadowed by the joy of having him, by the joy of finally, after everything they had been through, being one.

He tried to go slow, and she desperately appreciated the absolute gentleness with which he regarded her, but at that moment, it was not what she wanted.  She was the Slayer and she wouldn't break.  And she needed him.  Now.  She dug her fingernails into the small of his back, urging him against her as she let out his name on a breathy whine.  Buffy may have been a virgin, but she was willing and eager.  With one forceful push of his hips, he was imbedded deep inside her.

They both gasped, clutching each other tightly.  Buffy's eyes screwed shut, her head thrown back as she languished in the sensation of clasping his body within her own.  Angel pressed hard kisses to her face, her throat, across her chest.  He murmured her name and she opened her eyes, drowning in the absolute love and concern reflected on his face.  His thumb brushed gently over her cheekbone as he stared into her eyes.  She looked back at him, not allowing her gaze to waver.  They savored the moment, both of them acknowledging what was happening, the fact that he was buried deep inside of her, the fact that they were sharing the most intimate of moments.  Each of them silently prayed that they would someday find one another again, even if it was not on this plane.

Still holding her gaze, he slowly withdrew and slid back inside her liquid heat.  She moaned, her fingernails biting into his shoulders.  His hands cradled her head, forcing her to look at him as he stroked in and out of her body, his rigid flesh rasping along her ultra sensitive tissues.  He tortured her for endless minutes, slowly stroking and receding, teasing himself as much as her.  Perspiration beaded on her upper lip and her head lolled on the pillow as her eyes fluttered shut, unable to maintain eye contact in the midst of something so intense.  She mewled, scratching at his back, her need apparent.

He responded, stroking harder, faster, pumping into her forcefully.  She keened, her legs tightening around his waist, her back arching to thrust up against him as her vaginal muscles clamped down on him, her orgasm washing over her.  In the midst of her climax, she grabbed the back of his head, baring her neck and bringing his mouth to her wound.  Mindlessly, he took her offering, biting deeply into the already abused flesh.  The fluttering of her vaginal muscles were just beginning to taper off as her blood spilled over his lips, initiating his own release.  He pumped into her, burying himself as deeply as possible when he came.

As Angel recovered, he realized that he was collapsed on top of Buffy, her blood on his lips, his sex still buried deep inside of her.  Given how much larger he was than she, Buffy should have been complaining.  There was a contented grin on her face as she languidly traced patterns on his back with her short fingernails.  He nuzzled against her neck, kissing his way up to her lips where he molested her mouth for long minutes.

He pulled back far enough to look in her face and she smiled at him with blinding warmth.  He grinned wickedly and rolled his hips.  She gasped, her neck arching as her eyes closed.  She bit down on her lip and opened her eyes to leer at him.

"Again?" she asked with a seductive chuckle.

"Again," he confirmed.

The End

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