And was rewarded with a sharp, stinging slap across the chest with something that felt like a rattan cane.  He yelled, more in shock than in pain.  He hadn’t realized there was anyone else in the room with him.

"Now, now, Peaches.  Don’t play pussy.  We both know you can take a lot more than that."

Spike.  What the fuck was Spike doing here?  And why did he have his sire chained to a bed?

"Gods it’s sad.  Half of his face is covered, Luv, and you can still see the confusion runnin’ through his mind.  Never were much on the subterfuge, were ya?"  Spike commented to the room’s third occupant.

The dark haired vampire couldn’t understand it.  Spike was talking to someone but Angel couldn’t really "sense" either of them.  If Spike hadn’t spoken he wouldn’t have had any idea it was errant child who had him chained up.

Maybe it wasn’t Spike, maybe it was a trick complements of Wolfram and Hart.  Suddenly the blindfold was ripped away.

"Don’t worry, Peaches.  We’re not in leagues with your fruity lawyers.  That’s what you were thinkin’ weren’t ya?" Spike said, sneering at his sire.

Angel glared.  Nope, no trick.  This was his irritating childe in all his despicable glory.  Angel blinked as he felt the room clear.  He was in his bedroom in the Hyperion.  The blindfold must have been cast with some sort of spell to make him unable to use any of his vamp abilities.  As his senses returned, he caught a familiar scent.  His head whipped around as he turned to look at the room’s third occupant.

"Buffy?" he said in shock.  "What are you doing here with Spike and why do you have me chained up?"

Buffy didn’t say anything, she just sort of fidgeted, and blushed, not meeting his gaze.  She looked at Spike pleadingly for help.

"Oh don’t worry, Slayer.  Peaches here won’t be upset when he figures out what we’re gonna to do with him.  Will ya, ya kinky fucker?"

Angel’s brow furrowed in confusion.  Spike sighed like he was tiring of teaching a stupid child.

"The princess gave us a ring the other day," Spike explained.  "Seems you’ve gone a bit off your rocker.  All dark avenger now.  Fired everyone.  Hell bent on stakin’ that uber bitch sire of yours.  But in the process you’re acting all Angelus-y, scarin’ the shit out of everyone ‘cause we’re thinkin’ we’re getting ready for another go round with Mr. I’m-gonna-suck-the-world-into-hell-because-the-slayer-won’t-shag-me.  *Guess what, Peaches*.  No one wants Angelus back.  *No one*!"

Angel’s brow hadn’t unfurrowed one bit at Spike’s explanation, and now in addition he was looking at his childe like Spike had gone totally nuts as well.

"You and Buffy have chained me to a bed because you’re scared I’m going to go so nuts and turn into Angelus?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"The bint and I are here to remind you of all the nasty things you’ve done in your life that you need to atone for.  We’re here to punish you."

"Punish me?"

"Yes, Peaches.  You know.  Whips, chains, a *really* good spanking.  Don’t tell me you wouldn’t give your left nut to have the slayer go to town on you with a riding crop."

Angel tore his gaze from his childe and looked at Buffy.  She still looked nervous as hell.

"Spike," she whined softly, beginning to pace nervously.

Spike left his post at the side of the bed and went to the slayer.  Gently rubbing his hands up and down her arms he leaned in and whispered to her.  "Don’t worry, Luv.  We’re not going to hurt him. Not *really*.  ‘Sides, he likes it."

"What do you mean he *likes* it Spike?" Buffy said in a screeched whisper.  "How can you say that someone would *like* to be chained up and beaten?  I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.  I feel like an idiot!"

"Trust me, Slayer," Spike said.  "The nonce is hard as fucking steel right now just thinkin’ about you puttin’ him in his place."

Buffy just gaped at the peroxide blonde.

"I’m not kidding," Spike said.  "Look, he’s already tenting the fuckin’ blanket with that massive wank of his."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike.  She then looked at Angel’s chained form and quickly tore her gaze back to Spike.  He smirked.

"Told ya!"

Buffy gulped.  "He really . . ."  Buffy started, unable to finish.

"Gets a massive hard on at the thought of you hurtin’ him," Spike said, gleefully finishing her sentence.  "Yes, Slayer, he does.  Angelus wouldn’t.  That fucker couldn’t stand to be submissive for one bleedin’ second.  But Angel, now that twisted git loves to be dominated."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Buffy asked, "How the hell would you know that?"

Spike smirked again, "Oh come on, Luv, you didn’t think Angel just gave up his naughty ways the second he got that soul back did ya?   He was with me and Dru and Darla for a while before he became all high and mighty.  Or maybe that was low and stinky.  The high and mighty thing came later."

Buffy regarded her former lover carefully.  She wasn’t angry exactly, just feeling a bit left out.  He loved her, she knew that as much as she knew the sun would rise in the morning, but she also knew there was so much of himself he didn’t allow her to see.  She intended to find out a few more things about him regardless of how much he felt like he had to protect her.

"Okay," she said finally, taking the cane from Spike.

Angel swallowed convulsively as Buffy approached him. This was far beyond his fantasies.  He’d never allowed himself the pleasure of imagining her in these scenarios.  It seemed disrespectful somehow, to taint her with this side of himself.  He closed his eyes in shame.  Spike had talked her into this.  She wasn’t going to like it.  She was going to hate him for liking it because without a doubt he knew he was going to like this, *very* much.

It had been so long since he had been disciplined by a capable mistress.  He ached for it, both for the pain, because soul or not he was a demon and demons liked pain and also for the sense of cleansing he found in being beaten.  Deliberate physical punishment somehow made him feel he was atoning for his sins far more than a century of brooding could.  Buffy may have been nervous and inexperienced, but she was more than capable of truly punishing him.  He ached for her to hurt him.

Buffy kneeled on the floor next to Angel, gently running her hand over his face.  He still had his eyes closed, unable to meet her gaze for fear of seeing the repulsion there.  She continued her gentle assault until he finally raised his eyes to hers. There was no repulsion, only love and maybe a hint of fear.

"Do you really want this?" she asked quietly.

Angel stared at her for a long moment.  He nodded his assent, once again closing his eyes in shame.  His disgust with himself was palpable.  For months he’d distanced himself from everyone he cared about, abandoning his friends.  No.  More than abandoned.  He pushed them away.  He was cold and callous.  Uncaring.  But he couldn’t do that with her.  Anybody but her.  He couldn’t bring himself to appear aloof or unaffected with Buffy.  She *had* to know how much he cared for her.

Moving to sit on the bed, Buffy cupped his face and pepped tiny kisses along his lips, cheeks, and eyes.  She ran her fingers through his hair as she whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Angel.  If you need this, I’ll do it."

"I love you," he said quietly in return.

"All right already!" Spike yelled.  "Enough with the lovey dovey crap, let’s get to the ass beatin’"

Buffy scowled at the blonde, but seemed to agree with him.  Reaching down she pulled off the covers that were draped over Angel’s body.  Spike hadn’t been kidding.  Angel’s erection was huge.  It looked painful, and she could already see droplets of precum forming on the head.

"Oh now, Peaches," Spike tsked at his sire. "We can’t have you goin’ off any time soon, now can we?"

Buffy watched, as Spike pulled off his duster and threw it over the back of a nearby chair, leaving him in his clinging black t-shirt and jeans.  Walking over to the bed and kneeling on it next to Angel’s bound form, Spike pulled a length of leather from his pocket.  The slayer couldn’t hide her shock and the younger male nonchalantly grasped his sire’s cock, snapping the cock ring around the base.

Angel’s hips surged up involuntarily at the contact and he bit into his bottom lip to keep from moaning. Turning his head, he looked at Buffy.  Her mouth was hanging a bit slack and her eyes were about ready to pop out of her head as Spike skillfully and casually handled the older male’s genitals.

His childe obviously hadn’t given her a very thorough run down on their sexual history.  He wondered why.  Surely Spike would love to torture Buffy with the knowledge that he’d been Angel’s lover for decades.  Then again, maybe the blonde had a reason for not telling her.

Spike seemed to mentally catch himself.  He released Angel’s cock and slowly turned his gaze to meet the slayer’s.

"What?" he asked innocently.

Buffy shook her head to clear her thoughts.  "Wha –Wha-What is that?" she stuttered, trying to regain composure as she pointed to Angel’s crotch.

"Cock ring," Spike said, assuming that would explain everything.

Buffy’s confused expression didn’t leave.

"Jesus H. Christ," Spike bemoaned, "I always knew that Captain Cardboard was a vanilla sex cunt."

Buffy glared at the younger male, insulted at having her sex life ridiculed.

"A cock ring, Precious, will keep him from coming," Spike explained.  "And believe me he’s going to need it."

Buffy seemed to accept his answer, though her question of why Spike acted like snapping one on Angel was an every day occurrence was never voiced.

Spike rose from the bed and finished stripping the covers away so that Angel lay completely nude on the flat sheet.  No comforter, no pillows.  Buffy was at a complete loss for what to do next.  She stared at Spike blankly when he handed her a shot glass.

"It’s bourbon, Pet.  Drink it.  You’re going to need it," Spike said, watching her expectantly until she swallowed the amber liquid, making a face and coughing as the strong liquid brought tears to her eyes.

"See now, everybody needs something but me.  Peaches needs a cock ring – and a good beating – slayer needs a drink.  Not me.  I’ve got everything I need," he said slowly slapping the cane into the open palm of his free hand.

Buffy swallowed convulsively as she recovered from the strong alcohol.  It hadn’t been a lot.  She wouldn’t be impaired, but hopefully it would relax her a bit.  Slowly, she peeled off her own coat, leaving her in pair of loose fitting jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt.  Spike looked at her expectantly, then shifted his gaze to her duffle bag sitting on the floor.

"Well?" he said.

"What?" Buffy snipped back at him.

"Go change, Luv.  I didn’t spend every goddamned nickel I had on that bleedin’ outfit so you could *not* wear it."

Buffy shot him a nasty look, but picked up the bag and headed for the bathroom to change.  Spike gave his sire a hungry glance.  It was going to take the bint a while to get all trussed up.  Removing his shirt, he crawled onto the bed once again, this time kneeling between Angel’s spread legs.  With a quick flick of his wrist, he unsnapped the cock ring.

Meeting his sire’s confused gaze, Spike explained, "There’s no way you’re going to be able to control yourself when you see her in that outfit, cock ring or no.  And seeing as this is looking like it’s going to be one fantastic fucking night for me, I’m feeling generous.  Wouldn’t want you embarrassing yourself in front of the little one, now would we?" he asked with a smirk.

Angel groaned uncontrollably as Spike’s unbelievably talented mouth engulfed his cock, taking him to the root on the first pass.  His toes curled as the muscles in his thighs corded and he thrust into his childe’s mouth.  Gods Spike was good.  If there was ever a reason that he hadn’t staked his insolent whelp, this was it.  Spike could suck cock like he was born to do it, especially if the cock was Angel’s.  And he wasn’t just good at it, he enjoyed it as well.

Not having the luxury of lingering, knowing that discovering the two vampires in this position would freak the slayer out, Spike did not tease his sire.  He concentrated on sucking with intense, consistent pressure, bobbing his head quickly as he fondled Angel’s sac.  In moments, Angel was coming in quick, cool bursts as his childe swallowed quickly.

Sitting back on his heels, Spike licked his lips as he refastened the cock strap.  He shot Angel an evil glance as he hopped off the bed, digging through a second bag, lying on the floor.

Angel looked up as Buffy reentered the room.  She had his black silk robe wrapped around her small frame.  Though she was wearing some sort of high heeled shoe that made her about four inches taller than she normally was, the robe still dragged on the floor as she walked self consciously into the room.  Spike looked at her, grinning broadly.

"Ready, Pet?" he asked seductively.

Buffy frowned at him, fidgeting with the belt.  "I thought we were going to move him," she said, nodding towards Angel.

"Don’t worry," Spike said lightly.

Walking over to the bed, Spike released his sire’s bonds.  There were sturdy leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles.  Spike unhooked the chains that had held them to the bed, but did not take the cuffs off of his sire.  Urging Angel to his feet, the younger male moved him over to the doorway that separated the bedroom from the small kitchenette.  Someone had secured chains to each of the corners, and Spike easily snapped his sire in so that he was standing in the doorway, each limb securely attached to a corner so his body created a big "X".

Spike stepped back to admire his work.  Angel was facing away from them, into the kitchen.  He looked marvelous.  The peroxide blonde moved to stand behind the slayer.  She gasped as his bare chest made contact with her back, the cool of his flesh easily penetrating the thin silk of the robe.  His hands made quick work of the belt and soon the robe pooled on the floor leaving her in the outfit he’d had to beg, borrow and steal for.

"You probably want to look at this," Spike said to his sire.

Angel’s bonds were loose enough to allow him to twist his head and shoulders around to look at Buffy.  His jaw almost hit the floor.

Black.  Leather.  And lots of it.  But only in strategic places.  Angel forgot to breathe as he took in the outfit.  It had obviously been custom made for her body.  It fit like a glove.  She was wearing a black leather corset, not one of those flimsy things from Frederick’s of Hollywood, but the real deal.  Serious bondage wear.  It had to have cost hundreds of dollars.  It covered her from hip to chest, creating a serious hour glass figure and pushing her breasts up deliciously.  It was complemented by a black leather thong and high heeled lace up boots that hit her mid thigh.  Her arms were encased in black gloves that covered her up to the middle of her upper arm.  Her hair was pulled back into a strict bun and she wore a collar made of metal.

Spike had definitely been right.  If he hadn’t gotten off less than a minute before, Angel would have come right then.  Hell he was about to anyway.

"Oh, I think Mikey likes it," Spike said in a sing song voice, pressing his face into the side of the slayer’s neck, licking her pulse points.

The cool wetness of his tongue jolted Buffy back to reality and she pushed Spike away.  He looked at her for a long moment before handing her a riding crop.  She looked at it’s length sitting in her gloved palm and felt a wave of power and desire sweep over her body.  Spike smiled.  That thong she was wearing didn’t do a damn thing to hide the scent of her blossoming arousal.

"Ladies first," he said, bowing lightly and extending his arm to point towards Angel’s bound form.

Buffy swallowed hard and then walked over to stand behind Angel.  She had forgotten how beautiful he was, how perfect.  She watched closely as his tattoo moved as the muscles beneath it shifted in anticipation.

"You’re sure you want this?" she asked quietly, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop once she started.

"Yes, Mistress, " he hissed through clenched teeth.  His entire body was on fire, waiting for her touch.

Buffy raised the crop, hesitating for a moment before she brought it down in a solid, lengthy blow.  It stretched from his left shoulder to his right hip, pinkening deliciously.  Angel pulled against his bonds, his muscles bunching under the force of the blow.  His hips thrust forward blindingly searching for friction that was not there.  Buffy’s eyes went wide in shock.  She hadn’t meant to hit him that hard.

"Angel, are you okay?" she blurted out, terrified she’d hurt him.

"Yes, Mistress," he hissed again, his absolute pleasure evident in the tone of his voice.

Spike came up behind her, once again wrapping his arms around her cinched waist.  "I told you, Pet," he whispered in her ear.  "The kinky bastard loves this."

Buffy relaxed into her role.  Angel really did like this.  He wanted her to hurt him.  He wanted her to be the Mistress.  Hey, she was used to kicking demon ass.  New attitude in place, she swiveled her head to look at Spike.  The expression on her face made his nasty little smirk disappear instantly.

"Sit down," she commanded forcefully.

He flustered a bit.  He had engineered this little scenario so he could have some fun.  He wanted to get the slayer tarted up, maybe get to fuck his ponce of a sire into the ground.  Slayer didn’t know about vampire sex relations.  She wouldn’t know it was against the rules for him to fuck his sire.  If he gagged Angel first he may be able to get in a quick shag before the fruit broke loose and killed him.  He had not, however, expected to end up playing the bitch right along with Angel.

But surprisingly enough he did as he was told.  He liked these games too and if there was ever a woman capable of putting him in his place, it was Fluffy.   "Yes, Mistress," the blonde replied, kneeling on the floor next to her, bowing his head and averting his eyes.

Buffy smiled, feeling her arousal grow.  Wouldn’t Riley be so disappointed in her.  She almost laughed.  Served him right for leaving.  She thought about it for a second or two and came to the conclusion that she wouldn’t have been able to play these games with the soldier even if he had wanted her to.  She would have done him serious harm.  Not a problem with these two she thought smacking the crop into the palm of her hand.  Stepping back she swung the crop at Angel’s back again, her womb clenching at the sight of his body straining in pleasure.

It took every once of willpower Spike had not to raise his head to survey these scene playing out  before him.  The slayer was getting into this.  Angel was openly moaning now, unable to control himself any longer.  His back was a beautiful pattern of lash marks.  The slayer had a natural feel for this.  She knew how to hit him hard enough to mark him, but not so hard that she broke the skin.

Panting hard, Buffy stepped back from Angel, trying to regain composure.  She was incredibly excited, panting hard and with the corset cinched tight, she was afraid she was going to pass out.  Spike decided it was his turn to intervene.  He didn’t want the slayer to burn herself out on her first go round.

"Mistress," he beseeched, kneeling next to her.

"Yes," she answered, still panting.

"May I release him so he can eat you out?"

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up at the notion.  When Spike had suggested this, she’d thought he was nuts.  The idea of the two of them disciplining Angel.  He had purposely avoided any mention of sex knowing it would have scared her off.  But now . . .while in theory she was repulsed by the idea of contemplating Spike and sex in the same sentence, let alone the same room, she found that at the moment the idea sounded really . . .good.

In a moment of abandon, she answered, "Yes."

Spike couldn’t believe it.  He’d expected the bint to beat the crap out of him for even suggesting it.  He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning.  This was turning out even better than he’d expected.  Quickly jumping to his feet, he hurried to release Angel’s bonds, making the older male kneel before the slayer.

Once again, Buffy didn’t know what to do.  Lucky for her, Spike was at one with debauchery.  He didn’t miss a beat.  Kneeling behind Buffy, he pulled the thong down the slayer’s legs, urging her to lean her weight on him as she stepped each foot out of the panty legs.  When her sex was bare, Spike stood behind her again, allowing her to lean back against him for balance as Angel lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, burying his face in her dripping folds.

Buffy gasped as his amazingly talented tongue quickly found her clit, lapping harshly at the little bud.  Reaching back, she dug her fingernails into Spike’s thighs as Angel built her towards climax.  Spike groaned at the pain.  This wasn’t going *exactly* according to the rules.  There should have been a lot more groveling and Mistress-may-I’s, but on the whole it was going really well for the virgin run.

Angel growled in satisfaction as Buffy’s body exploded around his face, drenching him.  As he worked her slowly down, he methodically cleaned her.  When he was done and her breathing had returned to normal he lowered her leg from his shoulder and knelt before her again, head bowed.

As her physical needs were sated, Buffy became much more cognizant of the situation she was in.  What the *fuck* was she doing?  Why in the world had she agreed to Spike’s absurd idea that they should do this?  Some part of her knew that the younger male had manipulated her into this situation, but that knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.

Why was she here?  She hadn’t had any contact with Angel in almost a year.  Yes she still loved him, but they’d both changed so much during their time apart that they were little more than strangers.  Which made her a total skank.  Shuddering in embarrassment, she began shifting her weight back and forth on her feet as panic threatened to overtake her.

Angel and Spike were both well aware of the conflict surging through Buffy’s body.  Being vampires holding on to a nervous slayer didn’t do anything to make either of them feel any calmer.  Spike especially was fearing for his life.  He’d orchestrated this little S/M fest and the slayer might just kill him to assuage her shame and embarrassment.   When Angel let out a short bark of a growl, Spike responded immediately, heading for the door to his sire’s suite as relief overtook him.  The ponce would sort this all out and maybe Spike would unlive to see another night.

Buffy jumped at Angel’s unexpected non-verbal command to Spike, but was relieved when the blonde left the suite.  Still kneeling before her, Angel gently pulled the slayer down into his lap, her legs straddling his thighs.  Using one arm he held her firmly to his chest while his other hand quickly worked the laces of her boots.  He didn’t speak and didn’t make eye contact as if he knew those things would only server to make her more uncomfortable.  Instead he concentrated on his task, and quickly both of her legs were free of the boots.  With that completed, he quickly unlaced the corset.  Buffy frowned.  He was really good at this.  It had taken her forever to get the damn thing on and he had her out of it in seconds, due - no doubt - to years of practice.  She watched as he dispensed with her gloves and collar and then removed the leather cuffs from his own wrists and ankles.

Buffy was taken a bit off guard when he kissed her hungrily, his teeth tenderly biting the delicate flesh of her lips, his tongue snaking into her mouth in search of her own.  As usual, she could deny him nothing.  She met his kiss with equal ardor, twining her arms around his neck and pressing her naked body more fully into his.  As he rose to his feet, she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding herself to him.  As he stood next to the bed, she wondered idly what he was doing and then blushed as she realized he was taking off the cock ring.  Laying her back on the bed, their eyes finally met.

"I love you," he said with so much finality she had to blink back tears.

Buffy was laying on her back, and Angel moved his body over hers, crouching above her.  As he nuzzled his face into the soft flesh of her neck, slowly licking his brand, Buffy ran her hands through his hair, holding him there.  They stayed like that for long minutes until Angel was sure her nervousness was receding and her desire was rising.  Pulling back, he once again met her gaze.

"Thank you," he said simply.

"For what?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowing.

"For caring enough to come," he answered, and then with a sly grin added, "for beating some sense into me."

Buffy blushed again, averting her eyes.  Angel frowned.  He couldn’t stand to see Buffy ashamed, especially not over something that had been so wonderful.

"I liked it, Buffy," he said.  She looked at him as if she didn’t believe him.  Grinning again, he pressed his erection into her hip.  "I *really* liked it."

Buffy swallowed at the hard evidence of his desire pressing into her flesh, unbidden lust surging through her veins.  Raising her eyes to his once again, she asked, "You don’t think I’m a slut?"

Angel smiled warmly at her.  "I think you are a very powerful, beautiful woman who is just beginning to scratch the surface of her desires.  And," he added seductively, "the most amazing Mistress I’ve ever seen."

Buffy smiled, feeling all of her embarrassment fade.  He was smooth.  But beneath the carefully chosen words was truth.  He’d liked it, she’d liked it and there was nothing to be ashamed of.  She frowned again as another thought hit her.

"You didn’t mind that Spike was here?  You sent him away."

Angel considered hedging.  How would Buffy react to the gory details of his past?  He decided that if he wanted her to be honest about her feelings he had better do the same.

"I sent Spike away for your benefit.  He was making you uncomfortable."

"He doesn’t make you uncomfortable?  I thought guys were supposed to freak out about that, being naked in front of each other and stuff," she said.

Angel took a deep breath.  "I’ve had sex in front of Spike and . . . with Spike thousands of times, Buffy."

Her eyes didn’t bug out of her head the way he’d feared they would.  In fact she didn’t look *all* that shocked.

"Oh," was all she said.

Now Angel was a bit confused.  "You’re not shocked?"

She thought about it for a moment.  "No," she said, "not really.  When he put the cock ring on you, he seemed *really* familiar with your equipment."

Angel just nodded.  It was true.

"So what’s going on now?" she asked.  "Are we some sort of freaksome threesome?"

"If that’s what you want," he stated calmly.

She looked at him curiously.  "You wouldn’t mind if I had sex with Spike?"

"It’s not up to me, Buffy," he said quietly.  "I don’t own you.  You’re the slayer.  You can do whatever you want to whomever you want.  Doesn’t mean I won’t get jealous.  I’m not thrilled by the idea of you and Spike having sex, but if I’m there too . . .it’s different."

"Would you and Spike . . .?" she asked.

"Have sex?  Yes."

"So you’d let Spike-"

"No," Angel interrupted.  "I’m the top.  He’s the bottom."

Buffy laughed.  How fitting that Spike was the bitch.

"So?  Right now?" Buffy asked.

"Right now I want to fuck you," he stated bluntly.

"What about Spike?"

"He’s in the lobby wondering if you’re going to go down there and stake his ass for letting him talk you into this."

With a sly grin, Buffy said, "It probably wouldn’t do him any harm to worry a little longer."

With another smile, Angel kissed Buffy.  He’d forgotten how sweet she was, how absolutely delicious she tasted.  Beneath him, the slayer wantonly opened her legs wider.  With a slow fluid movement of his hips, he was inside her searing heat.  They both groaned at the contact.

His movements started off languidly, wanting to savor the feeling of being inside her wet heat, but as the slayer arched against him, squeezing him with her vaginal muscles, Angel began to pound into her.  She was more experienced now, more willing to show what felt good and stop him if she didn’t like something, more vocal in general.  Riley must have been a patient lover.  Angel was glad, but at the same time he set out to prove to the slayer just how inadequate the frail human boy had been.

Buffy screamed.  She couldn’t help it.  This was so different from Riley, so different from her first time with Angel.  The dark vampire was using all of considerable knowledge and skills to drive her from peak to peak. His cock, mouth, fingers, teeth, tongue, all working in concert, refusing to give her a moment’s respite.  Pushing her body, proving that he knew, even better than she, just what she was capable of.

She slowly opened her eyes.  She must have passed out.  The last thing she remembered was being on her knees leaning forward, gripping his headboard as Angel pounded into her from behind, one hand deftly working her clit, the other tweaking her nipples and his fangs buried in her neck.  Turning her head, she looked at her very smug looking lover.

"Am I going to have to wipe that smile off of your face?" she asked dangerously.

Angel instantly bowed his head, trying desperately to squelch his grin.

The End

(Damn, I think I may have just started *another* series . . .)