Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: While I have taken the liberty of adding a few characters of my own creation, all of the original BtVS characters and their world belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and The WB. The song "Here" belongs to Vast. All are used without permission (I'll return them all unharmed) and no copyright infringement is intended (like most who post, I'm broke, so please don't sue).
Spoilers: All 3 seasons of BtVS.
Summary: Well, it's now earlier into the year 2048 and Aishling Rosenberg is still hard at work creating a formal archive out of a vast collection of letters, stories, research notes, etc. that her grandmother, Willow, left behind when she died.
Distribution: You want it, it's yours, just let me know where it's going to be living. Feedback: Always a plus!
Dedication: This one's for David, without whom the Angel/Angelus we all know and love would never have come to life!
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From the Desk of Aishling A. Rosenberg 20 January 2048
Angelus. Cranky old fiend. I had asked him to give up something he held sacred. He tried to refuse. I forced my hand, knowing that in the end he wouldn't deny my request. But he could make me live to regret it! Nasty demon! All I had really wanted were just a few of his memories from that night, a little bit of insight into his feels with regards to what happened between him and my grandmother. He gave me *way* more than what I was looking for. Ancient prick. My perception of Willow has been forever altered and I will never again view him in quite the same light, that's provided I can ever look at him again. Stupid vampire! Now I need some new batteries for my vibrator. AAR
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I discovered that I liked to watch Willow walk, especially when she was naked. Her movements were so graceful, the curves of her body very feminine. I had enjoyed drawing her luscious body, as well as those of the other twelve witches I put in the picture with her. How did I know they were all witches? Anyway, when I was dreaming the dreams which lead to the creation of that picture, I never once chanced to hope that I might actually get to see Willow naked, let alone to touch her. Boy had I touched her. And I was going to touch her some more!
I let her lead me into my room. I was trying my best to be docile, letting her pull me along like I was a dog on a leash. But I wasn't a dog, I was much worse. I was The Big Bad Wolf and I *really* wanted to eat the little redheaded witch before me.
I was so lost in my dirty thoughts that I didn't notice Willow had stopped walking and I ran right into her, almost knocking her down. I quickly caught her in my arms. She laughed softly, releasing the hand she still held so that both of hers were free to wander about on my naked body. Damn, I really liked it when she touched me. What was it about her touch?
Willow offered her lips to me, and I took them. Kissing her was like partaking of an exotic fruit, sweet and juicy, very rare and meant to be savored.
When I was a young boy we didn't have a very large selection of fruits to choose from. Actually, fresh fruits of any kind were a treat. So, odd as it might seem, it wasn't until after I became a vampire and started to travel about the continent that I first had the opportunity to sample some of the more delectable fruits that the world had to offer.
While, obviously, I no longer needed to consume food of any kind, I thoroughly enjoyed eating many things just to have the taste, the feel of them in my mouth. The most enticing foods were the ones that were the hardest to come by. But once obtained, those decadent treats always tasted the best! Of course it's pretty easy to see that whole concept is tied into the gluttony which is so much a part of a vampire's nature. And if I actually had the pleasure of taking that treat away from someone else, so much the better!
There I was kissing Willow, tasting her and comparing her to fruit, for god's sake! Was I mad! Most assuredly, for I was overcome by an intense longing to eat either Willow or a mango! And I was equally aroused by the thought of participating in either act! Gee, what would Willow say if she knew I was lusting after a piece of tropical fruit just as much as I was lusting after her?
Gluttony, covetousness and lust, oh my! And those are just three of the seven deadly sins, all of which I used to enjoy on a daily basis. Sometimes I really miss those days. But, hey, I'm already dead and as for the sins I've committed, well, they're innumerable. My place in hell is already assured, so what did I have to loose by giving in to a few overindulgent thoughts? My soul, I suppose, if I wasn't careful.
I continued kissing my "little piece of fruit" even as I pushed her across the room and into the armchair that sat in the far corner. She fell back into the overstuffed cushions, looking somewhat dwarfed by the large-scale design of the chair. But it was the perfect "plate" from which to eat my treat!
I knelt down before her and proceeded to arrange my fruit as I saw fit. As I pulled Willow's rear end up toward the edge of the seat, she was forced into a semi-lounging position. I then draped one of her long, shapely legs over each of the arms of the chair. This left her wide open to me. Her inner folds were the most exquisite shade of pink and they were already glistening. She truly looked delicious. Better than any damn mango...
So, with my feast now properly laid out before me, I began to eat. This time I would use nothing more than my mouth to pleasure her. And it wouldn't be hard to do, seeing as Willow was already quite aroused after having gone down on me.
Within minutes she was thrashing about in the chair, bucking her hips in a desperate attempt to force my tongue further into her cunt. That wasn't enough. She started whining for more.
"Please, Angel, my clit, lick my clit. Ohforthegoddess'sake suck it! Pleasssse..."
Being the gentleman that I am (cough-cough) I did just as she asked. Willow climaxed quickly, spilling her sweet juices into my mouth. I came to the instant conclusion that Willow was the best fruit I had ever eaten.
Willow was so well spent that she was limp as a wet noodle when I scooped her up and carried her over to the bed and started to tuck her in.
I don't know why, but I suddenly felt very shy. I wanted to join her in my bed but didn't want to be presumptuous. After all we'd just done together, I know that doesn't make much sense.
"May I join you?" I asked, my voice very quiet and more than just a little bit shaky.
"If you don't," Willow mumbled, already half asleep, "I'll go home right now."
I wasted no time getting into the bed and sliding in beside her, but not too close.
Her eyes were already closed, her breathing was starting to deepen and slow. I thought she had already fallen asleep.
"Good night, mo cara," I whispered.
"Can I have a good night kiss?" she whispered back. "And make it a good one." One of her eyes cracked open, obviously so that she could watch my response to her next statement.
"I want to taste myself in your mouth."
I kissed her long and hard, not stopping until she broke the kiss.
I was pleasantly surprised when she snuggled close, her face buried in my chest. Soon she lay sleeping in my arms, and I closed my eyes with every intention of joining her.
* *
* * * * * * *
Dreams. Will I ever be able to escape the dreams?
For over two centuries now my dreams have been filled with visions of blood running red everywhere! Scenes of torture, scenes in which I am both the bestower and the recipient of the pain, play themselves out over and over again. Blinding, murderous sunlight, all consuming flames. Emptiness and utter despair. This was the stuff my dreams were made of. Even those dreams that began on a pleasant note always ended in tragedy.
Want to know the most disturbing part about the dreams?
Even though my soul is tormented by them, there is a very large part of me that still relishes them, just as I did over a hundred years ago.
And that day was like every other day. Even with Willow in my arms, the dreams had come.
Willow caught me sitting at the foot of the bed, crying my eyes out. I didn't mean to wake her. She'd been sleeping so peacefully, contentedly, basking in the afterglow, so to speak. But perhaps my crying wasn't what woke her. Perhaps it was just fate fucking with me once again.
I had tried to leave the room when sleep didn't come to me, but earlier I had been so distracted by Willow's offer of continued sexual pleasures, that I hadn't remembered to close any of the heavy drapes in the great room. Actually, when I lived in the mansion I never opened many of the curtains, so it didn't even occur to me to check them. Did I think that Willow would choose to keep herself in the dark, that she didn't want to be surrounded by sunlight whenever possible? No, I didn't think that. I'd just been careless.
Anyway, it was past sunrise and the great room was flooded with just a tad bit more sunlight than I would normally consider safe (ha-ha), so I was trapped in my own rooms for the time being.
My head was hung low, my face half hidden by my hands, upon which I was leaning. Which was good? Maybe she wouldn't realize that I'd been crying again. God, I felt as though I'd spent half the night crying. I had held back my tears for months. Suddenly I felt as though I should be the new poster boy for Kleenex. Although, to be honest with you, I'm not so sure the general populous would be able to relate to a spokesman who sheds bloody tears.
I felt Willow moving down the bed toward me, but didn't turn to acknowledge her approach.
Her arms came over my shoulders and her hands started to rub my chest in a very soothing, non-arousing way. Her soft, warm breasts pressed into my back as she held me. I could feel her nipples become hard and erect. I knew it was just a physical reaction brought on by their exposure to my cold skin, but I still hoped that Willow found the sensation to be a pleasurable one. I knew she liked it when I captured them between my cool lips. Her moans earlier told me as much.
Willow didn't try to force me to speak. She did, however, somehow manage to get me to move back up in the bed and under the covers. Suddenly I found myself curled up along side of her, her breasts my pillow. It was a very nice place to be. Instead of just hearing the reverberating beat of her heart, I could actually feel it pounding in her chest.
She was stroking my hair again, and sliding her fingers through it. It was a very comforting action.
My tears were just starting to abate when I was besieged by memories from the two times before that night when I had been this close to Willow. The first time, I had come to her rescue and carried her semi-conscious form out of a gas-filled room. The second time, I had been intent upon killing her. Contemplating the extreme differences to be found in those two situations, coupled with everything that had taken place between the two of us over the course of the last few hours, set me off once again and I buried my face in Willow's chest as I cried.
"It's okay, Angel. It's okay," Willow crooned.
She rolled over onto her side and was then facing me. She made a diligent effort to wipe away my tears, but I fear Willow only managed to smear the blood about my face. I couldn't help but shudder when she had the audacity to lick my tears off of her fingers. Then again, perhaps it had been something she did without really giving any thought to it. Either way, the sight of her doing that, cleaning my blood off of her beautiful hands, added one more item to the long list problems I was already being plagued with. Arousal.
I had to stop letting her do that, tasting my blood. It wasn't a wise thing to do, made even more reckless considering the fact that I had sampled a bit of her blood as well. I knew that what we had done wasn't nearly enough to cause us to fear that Willow would be turned. We'd only engaged in a little blood play, we hadn't fed upon each other. To my knowledge, I had never, in my 243 years as a vampire, exchanged blood with someone that I didn't either turn or kill in the end. But there are just too many myths, too many 'unknowns' for us to continue doing what we'd done. Suddenly, just the mere thought that we had already done might in some way harm Willow caused me to shiver from fear, made my tears run redder.
I moved in as close to Willow as I could get and began to suckle on the tender flesh of her neck. Again my cock started to twitch and grow. I know what I just said, but that didn't stop me from wanting more. I wanted to taste her again, and again. I wanted to feed from her, not for nutritional reasons but for the sheer sexual pleasure that I knew I could find if I buried myself in her that way. I wanted it *so* badly. I could feel my fangs elongating, preparing for the bite, a bite I would never allow myself, even though Willow had said earlier that she longed for it as well.
I pulled away, shuddering from the pain of my self-denial.
Willow, ever caring, ever loving Willow, misread my reaction.
"Do you need to feed?" she asked softly, not a hint of fear in her voice, only concern for my well being. That made me cry even harder. I could only find the strength to shake my head slightly to let her know that I didn't need any blood.
"You're just exhausted. It's well past sunrise. Silly vampire, you should be sound asleep by now."
"I tried to sleep, honest I did." I couldn't believe how raspy my voice was. But then I had spent a lot of time growling that night and had howled or shouted out Willow's name more than a few times. And there was, of course, all my crying to take into consideration.
"That's okay," Willow said around a yawn, as she threw one of her long, lean legs over my own, cradled my head in her arms, then pulled me close once again and snuggled me.
"We can sleep now. There's lots of daylight hours left." Willow giggled shyly, then whispered in my ear. "Gee, I would have thought all of that good sex would have worn you out, old man."
I couldn't help it. Thinking about "all that good sex" made me hard as a rock.
"Guess, not," Willow whispered into my mouth as she kissed me gently and pressed against my erection with her thigh.
I had worried earlier about Willow pushing the wrong buttons, but it seems she only knew how to push the right buttons. Her physical touch was very healing by itself, but combined with her psychic touch, Willow's own brand of medicine did more to help cure what ailed my soul than anything else in the last century had. She was temptress, playmate, best friend, and mother, all rolled into one. It's no wonder why Oz and Xander loved her so...
How fucking convoluted my life was!
I truly loved Buffy - I love her still and will for all eternity - but I was laying naked in a bed with her best friend, seeking solace in that other woman's arms and finding a kind of acceptance there that I'd never known before. And let's not forget about the sexual intimacy that I thought I would never know again. The irony of it all was not lost on me.
Between sweet kisses, Willow continued to speak words of comfort and she used soft caresses to soothe me. With each passing minute, Willow was acting and sounding more and more like her usual self. It was endearing, because I truly liked the young woman I had come to know over the past two years. It was also very unsettling because it forced me acknowledge once again just what I was doing and who I was doing it with.
When Willow spoke again, it was in that nervous, rushed, words-flowing-together way of hers.
"Please, don't cry anymore. I know it's all really...uhm...strange. But it'll be okay! I promise."
She was crying then, too. Beautiful, salty, crystalline tears spilled from the corners of Willow's eyes and ran slowly down her face. I couldn't resist the temptation to kiss them away before trying to console her.
"I'm sorry, Willow, I hope I haven't hurt you or--"
"Shush. I wanted to be with you, remember. I *needed* to be with you. It's just...it's..."
"Willow? What is it?" I could hear the mounting anxiety in my voice. Why did I fear what ever it was that Willow needed to say to me?
"It's just..."
"Yes?"
"Well, you know I'm the one who performed the Restoration Spell, right?"
"Yeah, Buffy told me. I'm sorry, I've never..."
I didn't quite know how to continue. The look in Willow's eyes was confusing me. I couldn't read her. The emotions playing across her face were so jumbled. I chose to simply say what I felt.
"Thank
you."
I kissed her, long and deep. She responded as though she had no will of her own and kissed me, as well. I couldn't keep the smile out of my eyes when we broke the kiss and Willow appeared to suddenly be very flustered, like it was the first time we'd ever kissed. She caught the twinkle in my eyes and proceeded to give me a swift slug in the shoulder as she set her 'resolve face' firmly in place.
"Don't do that!" she chastised.
"Do what?" I asked her with the most innocent voice I could muster. "Kiss you?"
"No. Well, yes that, too. But no, don't thank me. Don't ever thank me for doing that spell."
Both her words and the adamant way in which she spoke them shocked me. I didn't mean to, but you know me, I turned defensive and I spoke a bit more harshly than I should have.
"It's too late," I spat at her. "I already did."
"Yeah, well, take it back."
She was dead serious. Willow actually wanted me to withdraw my thanks.
"Why?" There was no missing the hurt and the confusion that sounded in my voice.
"Because I didn't do it for you. And because, even though you hide so much from all of us, I still know just how much having a soul has cost you, how much it hurts you."
"Willow," I said, trying my best to keep my voice soft, gentle, not wanting to let her sense any of the emotions I was truly feeling. "You could never even begin to--"
"I could never what?" she shouted at me. "Never understand what it is you really feel, what you've done, what you can never again do? Well, if that's what you think, then why don't you try to explain some of it to me? You still want us to be friends, don't you? Well, Angel, friends share things, things besides their bodies. They share their thoughts and feelings, their fears and their dreams. It's not always easy to do, if fact, it often hurts. It hurts a lot, but it's worth it. Honest, it is."
"Mo cara, please don't--"
"The Gaelic words are beautiful, Angel, and I'm flattered that you would speak them to me, but they won't continue to be special if you don't back them up with more...more words, more actions that show me you really do consider me to be your friend."
I couldn't look her in the eye any longer and I found myself speaking to her breasts.
"It's not that I don't want to, Willow, it's just..."
I noticed for the first time that I was absentmindedly playing with her nipples, and probably had been for some time now. They were hard little nubs between my fingertips. They would normally be a delicate, deep pink, but after the way I'd ravaged them earlier, they were a dark rosy color and a bit swollen. I wanted to take them into my mouth again, to hear the 'Willow Sounds' that always accompanied my actions. My cool lips would capture those sensitive buds, and Willow would start making these little mewling sounds. As I pulled her nipples further into my mouth, she would moan softly. I'd suckle them, and she'd sigh with contentment. When I got around to nibbling on them, or scraping them with my teeth, Willow's breathing would consist of harsh, broken inhalations followed by shuddering exhalations.
I loved doing that to her, for her, for myself. I'd already been brash enough to slice open the pale, creamy flesh of her left breast so that I could lap at the blood that seeped from that little wound. I wanted to know what it would feel like to sink my fangs into that same flesh and actually feed from her. Of course, we all know what's to be said about wanting.
"Please don't," Willow whispered with a hint of fear in her voice for the first time since she'd arrived.
How had she known what I wanted to do? Ah, the little witch really was in tune with my vampire nature.
I looked back up into her eyes. I know she could see the longing, the hunger in mine. I made no attempts to hide it. What I saw in hers wasn't fear. At least not fear of me. It was more fear for me, a deep concern for my well being and for the well being of others not there with us, but others who were very much a part of our lives.
"A few little cuts or scratches I can explain away if I have to. But if you puncture my skin, it will be pretty obvious just what, if not who, made those marks. I don't want Oz, Buffy, or you to be hurt by the choices I made tonight."
"I won't Willow, I promise. I'll never put my fangs into your flesh."
"Never say never, old vampire."
I knew what she meant. One never knows if and/or when circumstances may change. Don't make a promise you may not be able to keep.
"I won't pierce you while we're together here, now."
Willow just smiled a little smile. Then she glanced down at my hands, hands which were still fondling her breasts, and she shook her head in mock disgust while her smile grew, bigger and brighter.
"Well, I always thought they were kind of nice, in a perky sort of way, but I didn't ever think they were something to fixate on. Geez, Angel, I would have figured you for a 'neck man', not a 'breast man'!"
We both got a small laugh out of that one. I appreciated the fact that Willow was trying to offer me an easy out. She was deliberately trying to lighten the mood, to turn the exchange between us back into a purely sexual one, and thereby providing me with a way to avoid having to share any of my inner self with her. But, I truly wanted this woman in my arms to be my friend. At that moment I needed a friend more than I needed a lover. Having a real friend was as essential to my continued existence as was blood. After that night, I simply couldn't go on in the world alone.
I pulled my hands away from Willow's chest and she had the grace to look disappointed. I sat up, propped against the headboard, then drew Willow up and pulled her in between my splayed legs. She leaned back, using my chest as her backrest, my shoulder as her pillow. I was still aroused and my erection fit nicely with Willow, the base nestled in the crack of her ass, the tip resting comfortably in the small of her back. It felt like a very familiar place to be.
"Will, about the Restoration Spell?" I said, more than just a hint of trepidation in my voice.
"Buffy told you, didn't she? I mean, that it was me who did it."
"No, actually, it was Giles who told me. He felt that I should know because he was uncertain as to what, if any, side effects might occur."
"Angel, at first I thought that's what it was...that it was the spell that made us connect. I've read all of Ms. Calendar's notes. I knew that the Elder Woman of their clan could always sense your presence, or at least your feelings. I though that maybe I was given the same ability. But if that's so, why didn't I feel it before the night of our graduation? Wouldn't I have felt it before than? Okay, maybe the connection wouldn't have followed you in that vortex, I mean, I know it didn't, and I'm sorry, but I'm *glad* it didn't. But when you came back, if the connection was part of the spell, then I should have felt you when you returned. I didn't. Buffy kept you well hidden for quite a while before Xander caught sight of you in that cemetery. I mean, gee, if you had only told Buffy where to find that glove, instead of going after it yourself, we might never have found out you were back. I mean, not many people, vampires or otherwise, come back from hell! I can't even--"
"Will, breath a little between words, okay," I said softly, amused by her oh-so-typical ramblings.
"What was it like?" she blurted out in a voice that was barely audible, even to me.
I immediately tensed up when she said those words. I had missed my widow of opportunity. Willow had offered me an out and I had chosen, without really thinking, to let it pass. I was then trapped, so to speak. I couldn't very well ignore her question, no matter how reluctant I was to share any of my memories of that place with her. I would just have to choose carefully what it was that I revealed.
In an effort to calm myself, I started drawing intricate designs on Willow's belly, using just the tips of my fingers. I chose my next words carefully, trying to buy myself some time. To be honest, I hoped I might turn the conversation away from that topic.
"In all the time that I've been back, no one has asked me that. Until now."
"Is that really much of a surprise? What were we supposed to say? Wow, you're back! How was your trip?" The sarcasm in Willow's last two lines was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.
I just shrugged, unsure of what answer I could possibly give her.
"Look, Angel, Buffy will never ask you about it. She can't. You know that half of the time Xander wishes you were still there. The Watcher in Giles is dying to ask you for information. That part of him would like to record each and every memory you have of that place, regardless of how horrible they might be. But the English gentleman in him knows that there are some things you just don't ask for, and for some reason, that part seems to have won out. Then there's that part of him which is "Ripper" and it would like nothing more than to know that you truly suffered for what the demon did here when your soul was gone. He's still struggling to keep you separate from the soulless demon. It's hard. You both wear the same face. If at some time you have the desire to change your relationship with Giles, the best way to do that would be to share some of those memories with him. You don't have to speak them out loud, but perhaps you could just write some of them down and send them to him."
Willow took me by surprise when she suddenly hopped up on the bed. She grabbed a hold of my ankles and pulled me away from the headboard. Then she lowered herself back down into my lap, now facing me, her legs curling around my hips, her feet crossing behind my back. After a bit of wiggling and jiggling, Willow finally settled down and started to speak again, which was good because her little lap dance was doing nothing to ease the growing 'discomfort' in my crotch.
"So, that leaves me," Willow said, as she ran her fingertips along my lower lip. "I don't love you like Buffy does, I don't resent you like Xander does, and I don't distrust you like Giles does. Me, 'mo cara', remember?"
"I remember," I mumbled.
Willow
kissed me then, kisses as soft and moist as a spring rain falling down
upon my cheeks, my eyes, my lips. Her tongue was warm and sweet in my mouth
and I sucked on it gently.
Willow's fingers were again playing in my hair and my own hands had made their way back to her breasts. This time, I didn't let my fingers linger for long before I replaced them with my lips. I wanted to make the "Willow Sounds" start to play.
I've already said that I am a tactile creature. The feel of a woman's nipple as my tongue slides across it gives me no small amount of pleasure. The texture of the taunt flesh is so very different from any other flesh on her body. It's soft and yet it feels rough from puckering. I love the way the hard little nubbin will sort of roll around on my tongue as I lave it. Did you know that if you pull one in and trap it between your tongue and the roof of your mouth, you can actually feel it swell further as you suck on it? A woman's clit reacts much the same way if you draw upon it, but it's much more sensitive, requiring a much gentler touch. I think I like nipples better. I like to be rough, though I would never really give in to those inclinations with Willow as my partner.
The noises coming from Willow were escalating in both frequency and volume, as I lavished attention upon first her right breast, then her left. She let out a particularly shrill sound as I dragged my tongue across the scab on her left breast, before moving to capture that nipple with my lips. And just what did that high-pitched noise signal? Her renewed desire for blood play? Her inexplicable need to taste and be tasted?
Her hips had started to undulate and every time they tipped in, I could feel her silky curls brush against my cock, tickling it, teasing it, reminding it of the forbidden fruit to be found beneath them. The scent of her arousal was so sweet. Oh, God, how I wanted to sample that fruit!
She was making me so hard with just those feather light sweeps and the feel of her tits in my mouth that if she were to touch me then, I would come again in her hand. And I didn't want that. This time I wanted her to come alone.
"Put your arms around my neck, Willow."
She complied without question. I put my hands beneath her rear end then with Willow still in my lap I turned and swung my feet over the side of the bed. I rose, bringing Willow up with me. Sweet Jesus, all it would have taken was just slight adjustment in her position and I could have slid right into her. I resisted that temptation, but not without letting a small growl of frustration slip out.
I leaned back down over the bed and gently placed Willow upon the mattress. I stood back up to survey the scene before me.
Willow lay on her back in the middle of my old bed. The cream colored linen sheets set off her delicate skin beautifully, bringing out the warm, peachy undertones that are usually overpowered by most of the colors she chooses to wear.
Her hair was mussed. Bed head, she had joking called it earlier as I had tried to comb out some of the tangles with my fingers. Still, I could see just how silky her hair was. I knew it would almost feel like water as it slid through my hands. And even in the dim light of the room, I could see it's fiery glow. The tiny ringlets covering her sex had the same lovely sheen. They were just a deeper shade of red, a more passionate shade of red. How befitting, don't you think?
A delightful blush began to creep into Willow's cheeks. She was becoming uncomfortable with my intense scrutiny, but I didn't care. Actually, I got off on it. When she moved one of her arms up to cover her naked breasts and put her other hand over her sex, I growled at her, snapping my teeth. Then with a very stern look on my face, I shook my head at her, telling her without words that I was displeased with her sudden attempt at modesty.
Willow closed her eyes tight, then took a few deep calming breaths. Her eyes reopened, slowly, and locked on to my own. Willow's eyes were so dilated there was barely any green left visible around her irises. Lust. She, too, was obviously getting off on my small show of dominance. She put her arms back down at her sides.
The scent of her arousal was a very sensual perfume and it came wafting toward me as she raised her knees and parted her thighs. Her huge, brilliant eyes beckoned me to come forward, but once again I shook my head at her, then dropped to my knees at the side of the bed.
I leaned forward so that I could slip my hands up between her thighs. I ran my fingers through her glossy auburn curls, the springy little hairs already damp with her juices. Willow made this wonderful cooing sound as she raised her hips and tried to press her mound further into my touch. I moved my hands up a bit further and gently pushed on her belly, pressing her back down onto the bed. There was no mistaking the hunger or the disappointment in her expression. I tried to let her see in my eyes the promise of pleasures to come as I shook my head at her. She just groaned, and in a gesture of defeat, she threw back her head and tossed her hands up above it. Big mistake.
That open display of submission was my undoing.
An instant later I was laying between her thighs, my body covering hers, my cock grinding into her pubic bone. I had captured both of her wrists in one of my hands and used my hold on her to keep her arms raised above her head. With my other hand I turned her head to the side, and held it there, baring her throat. I could smell Willow's growing fear, the scent mingling so nicely with the fragrance of her arousal. It was quite a heady mixture.
Willow's breathing became ragged, her lips parted as she labored to draw in more air through her mouth. Looking down at Willow's neck, I could see her pulse, her blooding pounding through the tender vessel that lay just beneath the surface of her skin. My fangs had descended long ago, but I wouldn't pierce her. I had promised her I would not, and I strive valiantly to be a man of my word. Instead, I covered that throbbing vessel with my lips and sucked on it gently. I couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through my entire body as I reveled in the pleasure that I found in the pain caused by my unfulfilled desire.
No, never with Willow will I ever forget just what I am. I am a vampire and I longed to take her as a vampire will take a partner, and I would suffer every time we were together because I would never have her that way.
Willow was moaning as I continued to suckle on her neck, her hips coming up to meet the downward thrusts of mine. She started slipping desperate little pleas in between her moans.
"Please. Angelus. Harder. More. Please. Bite."
I ripped my lips away from her then, refusing to give in to her passionate pleas or my nearly overwhelming desire to give her just what she was begging for. I released my hold on her hands and took my hand away from her face. I slid both of my hands under her, into the small of Willow's back, and then used my new hold to increase the force of our humping. Each bump and grind was bringing me closer to my climax, and while that's not what I had originally intended for this go 'round, I was past the point of caring.
This was the fist time I'd been on top of Willow this way. She looked so lovely, trapped there beneath my weight. Her body fit so nicely with mine. I was hit again with that eerie sense of familiarity, feeling as though I had been with Willow before. I closed my eyes and I could 'remember' what it felt like to be inside of her, to push one of my hands down deep into her belly so that I could feel my cock throbbing as I came inside her.
There is the belief that some souls are destine to meet over and over again, that they are bound to one another for all eternity. Was this the case with Willow and me? If so, how would that alter my relationship with Buffy? I was certain that she was part of my destiny, and I couldn't deny that belief, ever, even if we could not be together on a daily basis. Were we all tied together in some twisted way, meant to always reunite and interact with each other? If I accepted that belief, then I had to question what effect my immortality would have on each of us. My soul was bound to a demon that could conceivably walk the face of this earth until the end of human time. Would that prevent the other souls from ever making the right connections, from finding some kind of peace?
"Where are you?" Willow whispered into my mouth as she kissed me and effectively pulled me out of my strange reverie.
"I'm here with Willow," I replied, kissing her gently in return.
Somewhere along the line, Willow had pulled my hands out from behind her back and now held them out at her side, palms to palms, our fingers intertwined gracefully. She squeezed my hands tight as she arched her back and rolled her hips. Willow's knees were drawn back, her legs had come around my waist, her heels pressing firmly into the small of my back. Her movements caused my cock to slide down along the entire length of her open folds, her fresh flow of juices mixing with my oozing pre-cum, making me slick.
Her clit was so swollen I could feel it pressing against the sensitive underside of my rock-hard dick as I slid over it. The tender nub actually got caught for a moment on the ridge of my head and I couldn't resist putting this newly acquired knowledge to good use.
Willow shook as I teased her clit, just barely rocking my hips, so that I bumped it with ledge of my cock head again and again, catching it, pulling on it gently until I finally let it slipped over the ridge and spring free. Then I nudged it softly with just the very tip of my cock, lubricating it with more pre-cum before attempting to repeat my torturous actions.
Willow's body was glistening, a thin layer of perspiration had built up on her skin, a side effect of her efforts to find her release, or to postpone it. I'm not really sure which. All I know it that I liked the flavor of it as I licked it away.
I was about to resume tormenting Willow's clit when suddenly she shifted beneath me and I found the tip of my cock pressing against the opening to her core. I felt the tension build in the small of my back, my ass cheeks clenching tight, along with my jaw, as I struggled to keep from moving into her. The bitch arched and rolled again and the head slipped inside. The heat coming off of Willow's walls was searing as they closed in around the little bit of my cock that had entered her.
My stomach started to turn, and sour taste came into my mouth. I was suddenly disgusted, completely and utterly disgusted by the thought, the feel, of my hard, icy cold member invading Willow's soft warmth. Once more, the reality of just what I am came crashing down around me. I quickly withdrew myself from her and scrambled back off the bed.
I couldn't leave her wanting though, and pulled her toward me, threw her legs over my shoulders and proceeded to pleasure her.
Tactile, tactile creature.
I ran my fingers through the juices that were seeping out her, coating them with her natural lubricant before I allowed myself put my tongue to her folds and lap it away. Her flesh there was so very delicate, soft, moist and smooth, like her mouth, the inner surface of her cheeks, only sweeter. I sipped up her sweet nectar like it was an offering from a goddess, which perhaps it was!
The greedy little wench was bucking her hips wildly, trying to make further contact with my mouth, but not succeeding. I pulled back a bit. I think she meant to grab hold of my hair and force my face back into her crotch, but I saw her coming and slapped her hands away. It was then she who growled at me! How joyful!
I checked to make sure my fingers were still wet. They were, in fact they were glistening with Willow love. I almost put them in mouth but then I remembered why I had slicked them in the first place.
I slowly slid the first two fingers of my hand into Willow's hungry hole. I almost laughed aloud when I saw the look of satisfaction fall upon her face. She thought I was finally going to bring her to a climax. She was *so* wrong. Oh, I'd get her off. Eventually. First I was going to torment her some more, just as she had tortured me when she sat me before the fire and knelt between my legs!
I placed my other hand on her lower belly. My touch was gentle, but firm as it was meant to control the rhythm of her movements. I wouldn't allow to Willow to thrust her hips too hard, or too fast. This was going to be nice and slow. I had every intention of prolonging her pleasure and drawing out her pain!
In and out, I moved my fingers in and out. A steady pace, a constant depth. Willow was soon trying to fight the gentle pressure of the hand preventing her from finding release. Trying, mind you, not succeeding.
I was deliberately avoiding any further contact with her clit, but I could see that it had swelled to point where the hood was just barely covering it. It was sure to be so sensitive at that point Willow would probably have come if I simply blew on it. Nope. Uhn-ah. Not yet.
I was treated to whole new collection of passionate noises. 'Willow Sounds, Volume 2'! They were truly music to my ears. And she had started to thrash about the bed as I continued to thrust my fingers into her. Her vaginal walls grasped at them, trying to pull them in deeper, but I just kept denying her what she longed for by pulling my fingers right back out again.
I did, however, increase the level of my torture by pushing my pinky up into her anus. This time I didn't fear that I had hurt or offended her when I invaded that very personal space. There was no mistaking the sound of pleasure audible in the groan she made as I pressed deeper into her. I was searching for that one little spot, which, when rubbed, would drive her mad with an increased need for release.
"OH SWEET GODDESS!"
Found it! And I did chuckle out loud as I heard the sheets being rent by her fingernails as she was consumed by her desire for climax. Damn, I wish I had been in a position to have her lash out at my back instead of my linens!
Willow was bathed in sweat now and shaking uncontrollably. And begging. She had started to beg.
"Please, Angel, please. Let me come. OhyoufuckingdemonmakemecomebeforeIkillyou! I swear to god, I'll hurt you. No. No, I *won't* hurt you, I'll kill you with kindness. Please let me come, please, please or--"
She was so *cute*. Even in the throws of passion, she rambled.
"Sshhh, Willow. Soon, I'll help you come soon." But to my soothing words, I added a new touch, one that was sure to do anything but soothe her!
I slid the thumb of the hand I had on her belly out over her curls and I began rubbing little circles deep into the flesh just atop her clit.
"Yousonofabitch," Willow hissed before she started to moan.
Oh, but very soon, I was moaning as well. I became fixated on the sight of the engorged flesh that surrounded Willow's clit. It was so plump, so full of her rich, delicious blood, that I knew the blood would actually spurt out when I pierced her with my fangs, just like the juice will shoot out of a ripe fruit if you prick its skin.
Yes, I did say 'when I pierced her', because to hell with promises, we were both going to derive immense pleasure from Willow's climax.
First I pulled my fingers out of her, and if looks could kill, little stakes would have come flying out of Willow's eyes and I would now be dust! I wrapped my arm around her upper leg and pressed my fingers into the tender flesh of her inner thigh. I moved my thumb away from her mound, but leaned in to put my lips firmly down in its place as my second arm moved around to grab a hold of her other thigh.
Willow's hands came up to my head, and she started to tangle her fingers in my hair. I made no attempt to stop her this time because we had reached the point of no return. We were both going to get what we wanted.
As
tenderly as possible I sank my fangs into the swollen flesh of Willow's
mound. And I had been right! A light mist of blood sprayed across my upper
lip as I slid into her. A steady stream of blood began to follow into my
mouth. I drank from her slowly as I caressed her clit with my blood-covered
tongue and in no time at all Willow started to scream as she climaxed.
I came as well, without having to do anything more than press my throbbing
cock up against the side of the mattress, letting my cum spray all over
my belly and the bed coverings.
Yeah, I took great pride in knowing that now it was Willow's cries that had been heard in downtown Sunnydale, and I'm sure they left more than just a few people silently wondering who had been murdered up in the old Crawford Street mansion this time.
I felt Willow start to quiver beneath me and I knew she was starting to come down, so, reluctantly, I withdrew my fangs.
As I licked the blood off my lips, I realized just how easy it had been to release her. I had not been overcome by the desire to drain Willow. I had simply sipped from her, not truly fed. Was it because I hadn't really been 'hungry'? Was it because hers was not the blood of a Slayer? Or was it something else, something related to the fact that I seemed to recognize the taste of her blood? God, was it possible for things to become any more bizarre than they already were?
I crawled back up on the bed and manhandled a very disoriented Willow until I managed to reposition her in the center of the bed. Then I moved myself back down a bit and came to rest between her legs, my head laying on one of her still trembling thighs.
Gluttonous creature that I am, I couldn't resists the urged to take up the little bit of blood that still seeped out of the puncture wounds I'd inflicted. I swiped at the droplets with my fingers, then greedily sucked them off. She wasn't watching me, but Willow still sighed when I did that.
Her breathing was still a little irregular, but its pattern slowly returned to normal. Her heart was pounding so hard that I'm sure if I had hugged her close, I would have mistaken it for my own long dead heart, beating once again in my chest. I silently worried for few minutes, but then her heartbeat also returned to its normal rhythm. Still, I felt the need to be sure she was okay.
"Will, are you all right?" I asked quietly.
"No," she groaned. "You tortured me, you sadistic fiend, and I liked it. I'll never be 'all right' again."
"God, I love you!" I blurted out before I even realized just what it was I had been thinking.
"That's okay," Willow whispered, sensing my instant discomfort. "I love you, too."
We just lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the relative silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, I found the nerve to speak again.
"Mo cara?"
"Yes, Angel?"
"I remember. I remember it all."
Willow gave no verbal response. She simply reached out one of her hands to me and I grabbed a hold of it. With her other hand Willow did what she so seemed to love to do, she stroked my hair.
Slowly, speaking in a almost monotone voice that was just above a whisper, I told her something I hadn't told another living soul, or another dead one, for that matter.
"Trust me when I tell you that not even the sickest of human minds could ever begin to imagine the kinds of physical torture that Acathla and his minions bestowed upon me. I won't ever speak of them to you. But those tortures pale in comparison with mental games they played on me, and nothing will ever erase the memories of the emotional pain I suffered. That's good. I shouldn't ever forget ..."
I had to pause for a long time before I could continue.
"There were moments, brief moments, between all the years of torment, when I was blessed with the most exquisitely tender care and I felt certain my heart would shatter completely. At first I believed that those were Buffy's hands that held me and caressed me so gently. But after a time I realized that they weren't hers. While those hands seemed to be equally as beautiful, they somehow felt older, much more familiar to me. I thought for a while that perhaps they were my mother's hands. But no, those hands touched me in ways my mother's hands would never have done."
"At times, when she came to me, she behaved on more basal level, acting much like the animal that I had become. It wasn't her hands that she used to comfort me during those visits, but her tongue. She would carefully lap at my wounds, cleansing them with her mouth despite the fact that they were bleeding, filthy and festering. Her tender ministrations and her saliva soothed them, and seemed to help them heal faster."
"When I was starving, she would come and lay down beside me. She would cradle my head in her arms and then offer me her breasts from which to feed. Like a baby at his mother's tit, I would draw her nipple deep into my mouth, then sink my fangs into the delicate skin of her breast, and I would begin to nurse. Sometimes I took so much blood I feared that I had drained her, and who would feed me then? But somehow she always managed to crawl away, presumably to hide and heal herself, so that she could come back and feed me again."
"And do you know how I repaid this wonderful creature for the care she gave me? I beat her and raped her every chance I got. When I was unbound, she was the only thing that ever came close enough for me to capture. It seems that her acts of kindness were simply more than a demon can tolerate, and my soul was too weak, too broken to even protest. It didn't matter that it was her life's blood that had just sated my hunger nor did it matter that the only reason she was so close to me was because she had just held me in her arms while I scream or cried. All that mattered was that I could reach her and I could hurt her. When I was done, I'd just lie there and listen in the darkness while something came and dragged her away. I was just too damn tired to care, too lost in my own pain. 'Besides, what does it matter?' my demon would cackle. 'The stupid bitch'll be back for more.'"
"The guilt and the shame wouldn't come until much, much later."
"Please don't think that's how I treated her every time we were together. No, often times especially during the early decades, I was beyond responding to her in any but the most primitive of ways. I wouldn't strike out at her. Physically, I was incapable of almost any action, and besides, I couldn't remember how. She gave me what I needed and I took it, no questions asked, no thanks offered."
"The years passed, and Acathla seemed to grow tired of toying with me. My psyche was so shattered that he could no longer play mind games with me, I no longer had the ability to play along. Then it got to the point where days, maybe even weeks or months would pass in between sessions of physical torture. He just seemed all together bored with what was left of me, so he more or less abandoned me. But that of course left me alone with my damaged mind for long periods of time. And while in many ways that was worse for me, it was better for her. My need to lash out and vent my frustrations upon her body was not as great. After some time, I no longer beat her at all. I continued to rape her though, except it was no longer simply sexual battery, it was a much more insidious type of rape."
"I hadn't touched her, sexually, for a very long time. Then one day ...or was it night? The passage of time at that point was pretty irrelevant. Anyway, she came to me and I suddenly found myself overpowered by the need to show her that I could be more than just a greedy, sadistic fuck. My desire to please her was greater than the desire to please myself. I kept waking to find myself moving around in the dark spaces, crawling blindly about, often on bloody hands and knees, searching for her, searching for hours, for days. Sometimes, when I got like this, I think she hid from me. Other times, I think they held her back. But eventually I would find her, or she would find to me. And then I would make love to her as slowly and as gently as is possible for a vampire to do. I would explore every inch of her body, showering her with soft, wet kisses, using delicate touches with my fingers and tongue to caress her most sensitive spots and to arouse her as just her very presence always aroused me. I made every attempt to be an attentive and considerate lover. I would make sure that she experienced the pleasure of at least one orgasm before I'd give in to my own desires taking her along for the ride, hoping she would come again, come with me."
"I know it was during those times, when I'd meant to show her I was capable of some tenderness, that I in fact hurt her the most. Because, invariably, as I climaxed, it was not her name I cried out during my release. It was Buffy's."
"I couldn't have called out her name, even if I had wanted to. I don't know it. All those centuries, she never once spoke to me. I'm quite sure it was a part of my punishment. Not only couldn't I see her, surrounded as we were by absolute darkness, but she was silent as well. Never did she scream or cry out when I abused her, no whimpers or sobs. Not a single moan or even a soft sigh slipped past her lips when I pleasured her. She had no heartbeat that I could hear, no breathing patterns for me to memorize."
"I think now that her silence was also part of whatever bargain she struck to get sent there. I know she entered my hell of her own accord. She came of her own free will, but why? Why Willow? What did I ever do to deserve such care, to be worthy of such sacrifice, of such unselfish kindness?"
"Only a creature with an unfathomable capacity for compassion and forgiveness would willingly have returned to my side time and time again, regardless of the unspeakable things I did to her the time before."
"She loved me, Willow, and I don't even know her name."
I, myself, had no tears left to cry, but I could smell Willow's. I became silent once more, and remained that way until she chose to speak.
"Do you think she's the woman in the song?"
I didn't answer right away, so Willow quoted the lyrics she was referring to.
"i have faith that you're out there living high up in the vast ...somewhere in eternity and you're never going to leave."
"I don't know, Will. Not every part of a song is significant to me, or holds some special meaning."
Why I had I just lied to her? I'd already shared so much with Willow, why couldn't I tell her that I always seemed to sense someone else's presence just beyond the outer edges of my mind?
"If she could find you in hell, Angel, when the time is right she'll find you again."
So the little witch saw through my white lie. And now Willow knew just whom I thought of as I listened to those lines. What she didn't know was that I had come to believe my mystery woman was someone from my past, someone I knew long before she came to me in Acathla's dimension. Nor did Willow know that it was my inability to identify her that often tormented me more than all of my other memories of hell combined. Where my memories of her should have been, I found only ghostlike images of places we had been together and vague recollections of events in which we had both participated. And yet, I couldn't see *her*! It was as frustrating to me as looking into a mirror.
Just
who was she and why had she hidden her love inside of me, burying it so
deep in my heart that it was impossible for me to unearth it? That love
had started to atrophy along with the organ it was imbedded in. I feared
that if I didn't excavate it soon, it would remain enshrined within my
dead heart for all eternity.
I heard the clock in the great room chime out. It was noon. My time with Willow would soon come to an end. At least for now.
I rose and knelt between Willow's open legs. She blessed me with the most radiant smile.
"Where ya been?" she asked on a giggle.
"Lost, Willow, so very lost," I replied in my usual serious tone of voice. But then I flashed her a dazzling smile of my own, the one which always used to make the girls swoon. "I'm glad you found me."
It worked. Willow's smile grew even brighter.
"Listen, you libidinous old vampire, don't start pulling out and polishing off all your ancient tools of seduction for me. At this moment, I'm already yours for the taking."
Willow threw her arms out to either side, drew her knees up and put on an expression that said 'come hither'.
And thitherward I went because I wanted to come again.
I stretched out and then leaned over her, supporting all my weight on my hands and feet, sort of like a push up. And I held myself in the 'up' position so that our bodies didn't touch. I bent down only my head and kissed her. Just a quick kiss, then I pulled back.
"Libidinous? Big word there, Will. Couldn't you just say horny?" I teased.
Willow laughed.
"Okay, so maybe I sounded a bit like Giles," she admitted. "But you just sounded a lot like Xander, so you had better shut up, kiss me, and get to the taking, mister, before I rescind my offer."
Without any further ado, I lowered myself down upon her and entered her with one smooth stroke. No 'please' or 'thank you'. She was still so wet from our previous encounter that I slid right in, burying myself to the hilt.
This time there was no scalding heat, no repulsion toward our differences. When I entered Willow this time, filling her completely, I felt only the nearly unbearable pleasure of being inside that beautiful woman. It scares me to think it now, but at the time it was like coming home, returning to a place I knew and loved.
I know Willow had initially intended to deny me access to that part of her self, and I have no desire whatsoever to try to figure out just what made her change her mind. That is, after all, a woman's prerogative.
Something inside me knew that our couplings would be few and far between. This might even be the only time I would be able to bury myself so deep inside this woman that I would forever call my first true friend. I wanted to savor every moment, memorize each and every detail.
I held myself very still, not wanting to move even a fraction of an inch. I could feel my cock soaking up Willow's warmth as her velvet walls clung to it, adjusting to its size and shape.
I don't remember when, but Willow closed her eyes. Tears still slipped out from between her lids and they made her red lashes shimmer as they rested upon her pale skin. It almost looked as though she, too, could cry tears of blood.
Her lips were parted, and already she was panting softly, in spite of the fact that we hadn't even begun to pleasure each other. With each rapid little rise and fall of her chest, I could feel one of Willow's erect nipples brushing against one of my own, coaxing it into becoming hard as well. Her hips started to undulate, the movement so slight that it probably wasn't even visible, oh, but I could feel it. I wouldn't be holding still for long.
I took Willow's lower lip between my teeth and nibbled on it for a while before moving up along her jaw, then nipping at one of her earlobes. She was making those sounds again! Delightful! She was starting to really squirm, her pubic bone grinding into my own. Ever better! Still, her hands lay out at her sides. Disappointing!
"Willow," I crooned in her ear, "put your hands on me. Please."
A split second later, Willow's warm hands were sliding across my back, up and down my sides, along the cool column of my neck.
"That's it, Willow," I continued to whisper in her ear. "Touch me. Touch me anywhere and anyway you like."
"*Move*, damn you!" she hissed at me.
"I like it where I am," I chuckled. Then I offered her a challenge. "Touch me some more, make me want to move."
Her hands were on my hips in a flash and she tried to force me to move by pushing on them. Didn't work. I snickered. She growled. I snickered some more.
"What will you try next? Will you play with my nipples? Will you tickle my belly?"
I laughed at her when she slid her hands between us and began stroking my chest. Did she really think it would be that simple, that I would actually tell her which buttons to press. Granted, her nails scraping across my nipples did create a very enjoyable sensation, but at that point it wasn't enough to motivate me.
She's so damn gullible, I thought as her hands moved lower and she started to caress my abdomen. It still wasn't enough. At the rate she's was going, I smugly said to myself, I might never have to pull out of her.
Boy was I wrong! Even as I was priding myself on my latest attempt at tormenting Willow, she was beginning to exact her revenge. One of her hands continued to move lower and the next thing I knew I could feel her slipping her own fingers through her damp curls and then down into the open folds of her sex. The tip of one finger kept bumping into the base of my cock as she moved that finger back and forth, across her clit. The sneaky little bitch was pleasuring herself!
"Willow!" I snapped at her. "You're cheating!"
Her eyes opened wide and I found myself staring into deep green pools of lust in which I would gladly have drowned. A very wicked little smile made her look like quite the vixen. She raised her head up so she could whisper in my ear.
"So don't play with me anymore." And then, as she increased the speed of her movements and the pressure of her finger on her clit, she let out a groan that made even my toes tingle.
"Damn it, Willow," I growled. "You're supposed to be touching me!"
"Since when do you get to make up all the rules?"
Okay, so she won that game. There was no fucking way I was going to let her come without me! I started to move all right. I was going to fucking pound her!
Willow took her fingers away from her snatch as soon as I started to slide my cock back out of her. She had the nerve to sigh out loud after my third stroke, which caused me to growl at her. She just smiled at me then quickly reached out and pinched my nipples. Hard.
"Yes!" I cried.
"See, Angel, I can play nice if you can." Willow's voice was dripping with artificial sweetness.
"Brat," I spat at her.
"Tease," she shot back.
With each word we exchanged, I would bang her harder.
"Witch."
"Demon."
And I was, not only on the inside, but on the outside as well. Because this time, for Willow, I let the mask slip away and in my demon form, I fucked her.
Her hands were all over me, then. Touching, teasing, exploring, stimulating. And all the while I kept moving in and out of her. Willow started shaking beneath me and I knew she was close to climaxing. Her hands moved down to my buttocks and I thought she was going to spur me on. Imagine my surprise, when on my next inward stroke she used her hold on my cheeks to keep me from pulling back out, to hold me deep inside her.
"Willow, what are you doing?"
"Ssshh, please, don't move. If you move again, I'm going to come, and I don't want this to end, I don't want it to be over so soon."
God, I knew just what she meant. If I could have had my way, I might never again have left her tight, hot hole.
I slid my hands up into her silky hair, and even though they were matted with the sweat of her exertions, the strands still flowed through my fingers. As we lay, almost motionless now, I covered her face with soft, wet kisses. Slowly, but surely, we backed away from the edge.
"Angel?" Willow whispered a few minutes later.
"Humm?" was my reply as I continued to kiss her.
"Spread your legs a bit, and bend your knees just a little."
I complied instantly because I knew exactly what she was going to do even before her fingers started to move down along the crack between my cheeks.
"Yes, Willow, touch me there," I whispered back into her ear. "Stick your finger up my ass. Put a part of you into me, just like I'm inside of you."
"Look at me," she said and I did just as she asked.
"Angel, don't you know that now a part of you will always be inside of me, even when we're not together?"
At that moment, I swear to you, my heart beat, just once. Willow's words, her love, touched me so deeply, that for just an instant they melted my frozen heart. Just that one beat. But it was a start.
"Oh, mo caraaa-ahhhh-ahhhh-ohhhh."
My words quickly went from a whisper to a cry to a moan as Willow pushed her finger into my anus. My cock swelled, started to throb as more stolen blood rushed into it. The muscles of my inner walls involuntarily started to contract and relax, sucking at her finger, trying to pull it in deeper. Then Willow began working her vaginal muscles in much the same manner, clutching then releasing my cock. It all felt so fucking good.
"It's too much, Willow. Stop," I gasped. "Stop. Or I'm going to come."
"Take me with you," she moaned.
Willow wrapped her legs around my waist, once more pressing her heels into the small of my back. I didn't think it was possible, but I moved even deeper into her. She arched her back slowly, rolling her hips, grinding herself into the base of my cock. We fit so tight; the pressure she was applying was so gentle but very firm. So nice. I clamped down even harder on the finger invading my backside. So *very* nice.
And it was all going to end too soon if I wasn't careful. I really needed her to stop touching me if I was going to attempt to draw out my climax. I was resting much of my weight on my forearms, and if I didn't want to crush her small frame, I was going to have to ask her to stop touching me.
"Willow, give me your hands."
She did just that. She pulled her finger out of me then both of her hands came up and she slid them under mine, intertwining our fingers. Her nails were burying themselves into the back of my hands as we started to bump and grind once again. We started out slowly but were soon pounding away at each other, grunting and groaning like wild animals as Willow struggled to find her release and I fought to hold back mine.
Willow started to whimper. Tears of frustration were leaking from the corners of her eyes, falling down the side of her face, mingling with her sweat. She tasted like a delicious salty treat on my tongue, and I would have liked to continue liking away her sweat and her tears, but I knew that if she didn't come soon, she wouldn't be able to come at all and would experience real pain.
I was driving into her like a mad man, but I just didn't seem to be hitting the mark. Her clit had become over-sensitized; my strokes were actually starting to hurt her. But I knew what she needed.
I brought my lips down to hers, kissed her softly, then let her go.
"Pinch it, Willow," I instructed her. "Pinch your clit."
"*Yes*," she cried and she kissed me.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she mumbled into my mouth as she ripped one of her hands away from mine and did just as I told her to do.
She went off like a firecracker, screaming my name as she came.
I withdrew from her quickly before the contracting of her walls had a chance to set me off as well.
Willow was almost as limp as a rag doll when I flipped her over and hastily positioned her on her hands and knees. Then I grabbed a hold of her hips, slammed my aching cock right back into her, and proceeded to plow my way toward my own release. Willow was actually bucking with me and I knew that if I handled her just right, I could make her come again.
I leaned over her back, sliding my hands up to cup her breasts, to tweak her rock hard nipples. Her head hung low giving me perfect access to the back of her neck, but I avoided it, choosing instead to gnaw on the lovely, creamy flesh of her shoulders. Willow's arms were shaking as she struggled to support some of my weight and to match me, thrust for thrust as I continued to fuck her. But enough was enough. As much as I enjoyed torturing Willow, I *really* wanted to come. I was so damn close, and had been that way for much too long.
I leaned back, taking my weight off of Willow, then I pushed her upper body down toward the bed. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked her elbows and left herself fall forward. I grabbed a hold of one of her hands and pushed it down between our legs. Together we fondled my sac. It tightened and my balls began to tingle, signaling my imminent release. I was using to my other hand to finger Willow's clit, trying to get her off quickly so that we could come together.
"Tell me when, Willow."
Seconds later she shouted.
"Now!"
She gave my balls a good squeeze just as her walls clamped down hard on my cock, and while she came with a soft whimper, I howled, pulled her up quickly and held her close as I finally climaxed.
"Oh, mo cara," I cried. "I'm coming apart. I'm coming inside you!"
I later learned that I had held her so tight as I emptied myself that I'd actually bruised her rib cage.
"What does it feel like, Willow?" I whispered in her ear. I was suddenly desperate to know. I *needed* to know. "What does it feel like when I come inside you?"
Willow relaxed in my arms, then tipped her head so that she could look at me while she spoke.
"Cold," she sighed, a very contented smile sliding across her lips. "Wonderfully cold. Oh, Angelus, it feels like you're putting out a fire that's been burning deep inside me. It's amazingly soothing. No one else will ever be able to make me feel like that."
I kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you, Willow," I mumbled into her hair, too afraid to look her in the eye as I spoke. "Thank you for sharing yourself with me."
"Sharing," she whispered. "I told you it's what friends do."
* *
* * * * * *
I awoke just as the sun was setting. Don't need to see it, I can always feel it going down.
I was glad to see that Willow was still lying beside me. Actually, in her sleep she had wandered over to the other side of the bed, most likely an unconscious attempt to escape from my cold embrace. At least she hadn't left me during the daylight hours, as she had said she would.
Willow's back was to me, but I could tell by her breathing patterns that she was still asleep. I missed her. She was so close, yet too far away. I carefully moved across bed, trying my best not to wake her. I just wanted to be near her, so slid in behind her. Spooning, that's what Buffy called it.
I was pleasantly surprised when Willow shifted in her sleep, pressing herself closer to me. Maybe my body temperature wasn't so repulsive after all. I certainly loved the way her warm flesh felt against mine. Perhaps she sometimes found the difference in our temperatures to be just as enjoyable.
I started to drift back to sleep, but I knew I wouldn't doze for long. I was starting to feel the need to feed. Still, I had drifted far enough that I missed Willow's waking and she startled me when she spoke.
"Say, you never did tell me just why you came back."
"You mean back to Sunnydale?"
"Yes, silly. I know you didn't plan on being with me. And I know you know that Buffy always spends the last week of the summer vacation with her dad, so--Oh. That's why! Even in a city as big as LA, Buffy's presence would have been too much of a temptation for you, hunh?"
"How do you know I'm living in LA?"
"The newspapers."
"You read something in the newspaper?"
"No, dummy. The pile of papers out by the fireplace. Lots of old copies of The Sunnydale Gazette, The New York Times, The San Francisco Chronicle, London Times, the one that's in - Gaelic?"
I nodded.
"Well, the papers that cover the dates of the last few weeks you were here also included copies of the LA Times. It didn't take much for me to figure out that you were probably checking out the happenings there and maybe the real estate section."
I had to laugh. Research Girl strikes again!
"Only you would have made that connection, Will. Bravo."
"Are you going to stay there?"
"For a while."
"Good."
"Good?"
"Mmmm. I like knowing you're not too far away."
"How really?'
"Well, yes," she suddenly sounded flustered. "I mean, in case Buffy needs you."
I brushed aside her hair and placed a kiss on Willow's neck.
"I will always be there when Buffy needs me."
"Good," Willow sighed, reassured by my words. "That's good. Because she still loves you, you know?"
"Yes, I know that, Will. And I will always love her."
Willow just nodded. I hugged her. Tight. Then tried to reassure her some more.
"What we have between us now doesn't change how I feel about Buffy. It's only changed how I feel about you."
"Oh." She sounded painfully uncertain.
"I love you, Will. You are the first real friend I've ever had."
Willow rolled over, turning in my arms so that she was facing me. She flashed me one of her very shy, but devastatingly beautiful smiles and suddenly all seemed to once again be right in the world.
"Cool," Willow gushed. Then she pounced and started covering me with big, wet kisses.
I found myself laughing at her renewed enthusiasm. And groaning at my own, which was slowly rising and pressing into Willow's belly. I returned her kisses with slobbering, smacking kisses of my own. We continued to just laugh and kiss for quite sometime before the mood shifted from playful to passionate.
I had settled in to suckling on her neck. But when my lips pressed against her jugular vein, I found myself being overpowered by the need to feed. I quickly pulled away.
Willow caught the look in my eyes and she understood it. With one last soft kiss to my lips, she sent me on my way.
"Go eat, Angel."
I left the bed and headed out toward the kitchen.
"Bring me an apple when you come back," she called out after me.
So, there I was in the kitchen, draining my second bag of blood, while Willow lounged about, naked in my bed. Both of us were oblivious to the approaching danger.
Perhaps that's because it came in the form of a friend, a member of our inner circle.
Suddenly, the sound of an all too familiar voice rang out in the garden.
"Hey, Will, come out, come out, wherever you are!" His words bounced off the stone walls and echoed throughout the mansion.
"Okay, Willster," Xander shouted as he moved further into the house. "You've worried your parents enough! It's time to go home now!"
And while there was obviously no way I could see the expression on Willow's face, I know that at that instant we had exactly the same thought.
Fuck.
End
Entry Twenty-Five