To Aldea, thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"But Angelus, I can't go out," Willow said.
"Willow, I just said we're going."
"But I don't have anything to wear!" she exclaimed.
"Well, don't we sound like Cinderella," he grinned. She glared at him.
"Just call me the fairy godvampire."
He crossed the room and picked up the small gift box he'd sent flying.
He gave it to her. She arched an eyebrow and unwrapped it.
"This is awfully small to hold a dress and shoes," she muttered. Her brow
creased even more as she pulled out a long silver chain that held a key.
"If
you want me to go out wearing just this, we may want to rethink the whole,
'I belong to you and only you thing.'"
He chuckled. "Actually I thought you might wear something in this."
He opened the bedroom door and dragged a large steamer trunk inside.
"There's not a dead body in there, is there?" she grimaced.
"Get over here," he grinned. "I took the liberty of doing a little shopping
for you."
She approached him cautiously. He opened the trunk to reveal a dark rainbow
of skirts and dresses. She peeked in, almost afraid he would pull a "Pretty
Woman" gag and slam the lid shut on her hand.
"Willow, pick something out," Angelus rolled his eyes. Willow selected
what
appeared to be a very tame long black wrap skirt and a sleeveless black
boatnecked top.
Angelus seemed rather disappointed. She turned toward the bathroom to
change. He grabbed her arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To dress," she said.
"Well, how will we know which ensemble is best if I don't see them all
on?"
he grinned.
"And that requires me to change clothes in front of you because..." she
glared at him.
"It doesn't," he shrugged.
"You're not going to let me out until I try on all of these clothes are
you?"
He shook his head.
"Clothes-fetishist," she muttered.
He took her hand and twirled her away from him, unwrapping the sheet from
her body. She stood before him naked. He wrapped the skirt around her waist
at tied it carefully. He raised her arms above her head, his hands skimming
her silky skin as he slid the top over her head.
He stepped back brushing her hair back from her face. "Very nice."
"That's all?" she asked, looking down. The skirt emphasized her tiny waist.
The top clung to her high rounded breasts and called attention to her
beautiful shoulders. "'Very nice?'"
"A little bland," he shrugged.
"You picked it out," she gasped indignantly.
"I know, I just think it needs something..."
He plucked two shiny silver objects from the trunk. He clasped the two
armbands high above her elbows. They were wide and inlaid with a complicated
twisting design.
"They're beautiful," she said.
"Slave bracelets," he said. "They show the underworld you're spoken for."
"That and the giant winged tattoo on my back?" she said, her eyebrow arched.
"When I have something precious, I'm sure to protect it," he said, cupping
his chin in her palm. "Try this next."
He held up a long crimson skirt with elaborate Moroccan embroidery at the
hem and an extra long matching scarf. With gentle fingers, he untied her
skirt. His thumbs brushed her nipples as he pulled her shirt over her head.
When the black material pulled away from her face, she found Angelus' mouth
suddenly clamped over her lips. She whimpered as he pulled at her lips
with
his blunt teeth.
Never breaking contact with his lips, he tied the stays of the maroon skirt
behind her back. He turned her, trailing kisses along the length of her
spine as he brought the scarf around her body. He covered her breasts and
tied it snugly behind her. He nibbled on the nape of her neck as he adjusted
it.
"Never knew dressing a woman could be this much fun," he murmured against
her skin.
He led her to the bathroom mirror, showing her his handiwork. It was a
little freaky for her, feeling his hands against skin, but not seeing his
face in the mirror when she knew it should be there.
"See anything interesting, lover?" he asked, as he nipped her earlobe.
"It what I don't see that interests me," she said, biting her lip.
"Really?" he grinned. He could smell her getting wetter by the moment.
He
bunched her skirt at her waist, bending her slightly over the counter.
He
kissed the ridges of her spine as he unzipped his slacks. He rubbed the
tip
of his cock along her wet slit before thrusting into her. She cried out,
bracing herself against the cool marble of the counter.
He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face so he
could see her reactions in the mirror. She threw her head back as she
clenched around him. He continued to pump into her as reached climax and
long after. She slumped against the mirror, he came inside her, roaring
with his release.
He kissed her nape again as he pulled out of her. He straightened her skirt.
She grabbed for her hairbrush, but Angelus stopped her.
"Leave it the way it is," he said, running his fingers through her long
silky strands.
"All messy?"
"Tousled," he grinned, kissing her mouth deeply. "Your lips are red and
swollen from my kisses. Your are perfect shade of passion-grazed green.
You
look like you've just been thoroughly fucked."
"I have just been thoroughly fucked," she grinned as he led her out of
her
bathroom and toward the door.
"Cheeky little mistress, aren't we?"
She took a deep breath as he led her out of her prison. His fingers twined
in hers.
"Spike," Angelus shouted. "We're going out."
"Where to?" Spike asked, his brow creased. Willow shrugged.
"Submission," he grinned.
"Submission," Spike raised his eyebrows. "Mind if I tag along?"
"Of course not," Angelus grinned. "Where's Dru? We can make it a regular
family outing."
"Dru's out hunting," Spike said. "In Chinatown."
"She always did have a thing for Oriental cuisine," Angelus grinned.
"So," Angelus grinned, twirling his lover around for Spike's perusal. "What
do you think of my little treasure?"
"I would have preferred her in green," Spike snorted, shurgging into his
duster.
"Spike, apologize to your mother," Angelus demanded. "You'll hurt her
feelings."
"I'm sorry, mum," Spike grinned, kissing her palm. "Am I forgiven?"
"I think you may owe me a drink," she grinned.
"No one buys your drinks, but me," Angelus insisted. "But he can carry
your
coat."
Spike muttered as he closed the door behind them. "Lucky me."