Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They are solely the property of Joss Whedon (clever boy), Mutant Enemy, and the WB.
Feedback: Yes, please. And lots of it. I have fits if I don't get feedback.
Note: This is the 23rd story in the 'Obsession' Series.
Distribution: TPWFLD Archive, Mallory's, UCSL, others: ask and ye shall receive. But ask, first.
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With a loud ‘thunk’, Willow set the toilet brush back in its holder. Standing, Willow washed her hands thoroughly and headed out of the bath room, pulling the feather duster from her belt buckle and twirling it. The sight that greeted her in the main room of the mansion was a pleasant one. Angel, shirtless and in jeans, was cleaning the ash out of the fireplace. Willow grinned and then groaned. He was doing it in the wrong order! “Angel,” Willow began, “You should have done that first! We’ve already swept and dusted in here, and now we’re going to have to do it over!”
Angel stopped what he was doing and looked over at his lover. She was exquisite. Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail so that her coppery tresses weren't hiding her face. The sports bra and cut-offs she had on showed off the curve of her breasts and the line of her waist and hips, and the faint sheen of perspiration that covered her upper body glistened, making her fair skin glow.
“Oh. I didn’t think about that. I’ll do it after I’m finished. Sorry.” Angel’s tone was extremely apologetic.
Willow sighed, “I’ll help, too. I just need to sit for a minute and rest.”
Angel turned back to his work and Willow sat down on the sofa, picking up a magazine and thumbing through it. One of the feathers from the duster floated down to the floor. Reaching over to pick it up, a mischievous thought formed in Willow’s mind. A feather was much lighter than a pencil, after all.
Concentrating her energy, she focused on the feather. It floated up and then over, stopping near Angel. With a little more effort, she wiggled it. It brushed lightly against his ear. Angel jerked his head, trying to flick off what he assumed was a fly. Another wiggle and he moved his hand to brush it away, leaving a smudge of soot on the side of his face. Willow waited a moment, grinning at her little prank. She moved the feather again, this time to the back of his neck. A little wiggling and Angel soon had a hand print on the back of his neck.
He glanced back at Willow, who was now seemingly reading the magazine. Willow looked up after Angel turned back to digging the ash out with the small coal shovel. She centered her thoughts on the feather whichhad floated to rest at Angel’s feet. It rose up, and she tickled his shoulder. This time, Angel was too quick. He slapped his hand down on his shoulder, capturing the feather. He looked at it a moment, then raising an eyebrow he held it out to Willow.
Willow burst out laughing, falling over on her side.
“You…that was…soot…” Willow tried to form a coherent sentence through her giggling as she pointed at Angel.
“You think that’s funny, do you, little girl?” Angel asked.
Willow nodded, still chuckling.
Angel rose and pulled Willow to her feet. He leaned over and kissed her on the side of her neck and whispered, “If you want to play games I can think of better ones.”
Willow wasn’t laughing anymore. She pulled back and searched his face, but didn’t see any sign of anger, only a bemused expression with a hint of lust in his eyes.
Angel traced her face with his fingers, leaving behind a trail of fine black ash. The corner of Willow’s mouth turned up in a smile and he planted a small kiss on it. Turning, he pulled the coal bucket closer and dipped his fingers in. Again, he brought his fingers to her face and began to paint her with the soot. He used the side of his pinkie to create intricate patterns and swirls, his thumbs to blend in parts of the mask he was creating for her. Willow stood rooted to the spot, her breath becoming more laboured as Angel illustrated her visage.
When he was done with her face, he stood back and surveyed his handiwork. She looked like an exotic faerie creature or a female version of a Maori warrior. She’d been perspiring slightly, so the ash had made a fine paste on her skin.
He reached out and unfastened her sports bra and pulled it off her.
“Not quite done, yet, I think.” Angel said.
He bent over, placing kisses down her shoulders and arms, pausing at each hand to suckle all of her thumbs and fingers in turn. Willow’s head lolled back to one side, enjoying each brush of his lips and stroke of his tongue. They’d made love around six in the morning, and although it had been wonderful and exciting, they had been almost frantic in their need for one another. This slow, sensual seduction was relaxing and arousing her at the same time. She shifted, pressing her thighs together and feeling the moisture flow into the crotch of her panties.
Dipping his fingers in the ashes again, Angel worked on her arms and shoulders then covered her upper chest and ribcage with the soot. He purposefully avoided the peaks of her breast, instead brushing the underside lightly. Willow's tongue flicked out and moistened her lips, every nerve in her body twitching in anticipation of him finally touching her nipples.
Instead, he teased along the waistline of her shorts, then unbuttoned and peeled them off her body. He continued the swirling design down her thighs, calves and knees, and finally stopped at the tips of her toes. Willow swayed, wanting to touch him, yet unwilling to deter him in his coating of her body.
He turned her and started spreading the ash on the backside of her body. Willow groaned when he reached her butt, pushing ever so slightly into his gentle fingers. Angel ignored her, continuing downwards. Finally, he finished and twisted her around to face him.
"Stay perfectly still. I'll be right back." Angel winked at her and sprinted into the bedroom.
Willow was ready to scream in frustration. It had felt extremely good to stand still and let him touch her body, but now she wanted more.
A bright light flashed behind her and she heard the whirring of a motor. She turned to find Angel with an instant camera in one hand, and the snapshot in another.
"Good, stand still so I can get the front. I'd like to do a sketch and I don't think you want to stay naked and covered in ash for as long as that will take."
Willow nodded and held her hands out to her side, feeling herself blush at her brazen action. Angel brought the camera up again and snapped another photo, then sat the camera down and advanced on her.
"Now…where were we?" Angel dipped his head and captured her nipple between his teeth. Willow gasped and clutched his head. Moisture was leaking down her thighs at this point; her anticipation had built to an almost unbearable level of tension.
Angel straightened and covered her mouth with his, pressing his erection in to her belly. The ash that covered her body began to rub off on Angel as he clutched her to him, his fingers kneading the curves of her ass, spreading her cheeks and reaching into coat his fingers with the juices that flowed from her core. Willow whimpered and pushed back onto his fingers, trying to draw them inside her. Instead, Angel circled her anus with his fingers, pushing on her rectum, but not quite entering her.
Willow's breath caught in her throat at the new sensation. She stiffened at first, then relaxed into his touch. Angel teased her with a light pressure for a few more minutes, brushing his cock into her stomach the entire time. He maneuvered them so that he was standing by the sofa, then slowly sank down, drawing her onto his lap. Grabbing her hips, he positioned her above his erection and rubbed his hard-on into her clit. Gasping, Willow pushed down and back, taking his entire length inside of her with one quick move.
Angel grunted, marveling, as always, at her tight heat. Sliding inside of Willow was the most exquisite wonder he'd ever experienced. He let her set a slow pace, meeting each of her downward thrusts with an upward one. Steadying her, he snaked his hands around to her buttocks again, this time pressing into her puckered opening and slipping his middle finger into the first knuckle. He began to keep time with their pelvises. A shudder wracked Willow's small frame.
"Oh!…oh…Angel…uhm…" Willow gasped out the semi-coherent words.
Each thrust of his body into hers drove her closer towards climax. The feelings and desires he released in her had only grown more intense over their past few months together.
Angel managed to whisper into her ear; "Do…you want me…to stop?"
"No!...I…OH!!…" Willow's words faded into a soft keening as she clenched around his finger and erection. Her entire body stiffened as her body flew into an orgasm. Somehow, she had the presence of mind to bring her hands to his nipples, pinching the small nubs between her thumbs and forefingers.
The stimulation of his nipples wasn't necessary. The sight of Willow in the throes of orgasm, combined with her rapturous sounds were enough to set Angel off. He gripped her hip tightly, groaning out his pleasure as he shot inside of her slick depths. His cock still twitching, he pulled her face to his and kissed her, softly outlining her lips with his tongue.
Willow returned his kiss, then leaned back on his lap, running her eyes down their lengths and stopping where their bodies were joined together. They were covered with ash, sweat, and the evidence of their sexual act.
"I think we need a shower." Willow said.
Angel rested his head on the back of the sofa, smiling up at his love. He answered her lazily, his voice thick with satisfaction. "If you say so."
"I say so. And now we're going to have to clean the sofa off, too."
"Slave driver." Angel chuckled as she moved off him and headed towards the bathroom.
She called over her shoulder; "You've got that right. And Angel?"
"Yes, little girl?"
"Bring that camera…since you've got it, I can think of a few other things I'd like to have pictures of."
The End