Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Angel/Fred
Disclaimer: All the goodness is of Joss and all the badness is from me :-)
Summary: Fred has a dream, or does she?
Spoilers: This takes place during season 3, shortly after Fred's rescue from Pylea
Feedback please! Pretty please. Constructive criticism always gratefully accepted.
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Fred saw him standing over her, the moonlight streaming in through her open window, his shadow caressing her body like a silent lover. Was she awake, was she dreaming? She wasn't sure. Her body felt heavy, lethargic. She was caught in that twilight world that existed between slumber and awareness. But which side was she on?
Looking up at his inscrutable face, she displayed her confusion. "Angel?" she called hesitantly. There was no response from the dark figure above her. She tried again. "Wh-what's the matter? Is there something you want me to help with?"
He merely returned her gaze, his soft brown eyes giving away nothing. Was he real, or just a figment of her overactive imagination? She had always been attracted to him, had fantasized about him, but was that what this was? Or was it something more? Something real?
Slowly Fred closed her eyes, her auburn lashes resting against her cheeks. 'If I open my eyes and he's still there,' she decided, 'then this must be real. Right?' Her eyes opened slowly, hesitantly, and he was still there. Was she happy or disappointed? Maybe a little of both.
She tried to sit up, to move towards him, but soft silken restraints kept her arms in place. Looking down her slight, naked body, she realized that her legs were similarly fettered, attached by silken bonds to the posts at the foot of the bed, leaving her body open and exposed. They weren't painful, did not bite into her yielding skin as sharp metal would, but they did keep her from moving, from escaping this soft prison.
Finally Angel moved, bending over her to press a soft, chaste kiss to her plaint lips. She started to speak, but he simply put a cool finger to her lips and told her, "Shhh."
She felt the bed dip slightly as it accepted his weight. Sitting next to her, he watched her with those same expressionless eyes. Strangely, she did not feel afraid. In all that had happened since her return from Pylea, Angel had been the one constant in her life. The one person she could trust, no matter what. Her mind held tightly to that thought, trying to ignore the bonds that held her in place.
The finger resting on her lips moved slowly, beginning to trace gentle circles on her slightly parted lips. Dipping into her mouth, his digit emerged, slightly wet, working its way to her jaw; her neck; her throat. Stopping briefly to tease her pulse-point with a slight increase of pressure, his finger again took up its downward passage, stopping as it reached the valley between her breasts.
Fred's breathing became labored, as if her body was forgetting how to draw in air while it was concentrating on that one finger. Again she looked up at Angel, allowing his eyes to capture hers. Unable to look away, she saw his growing desire there, his hard brown eyes turning to melted chocolate, and she knew that he was seeing the same look in her eyes. As strange as this situation was, she could feel the arousal awakening in her body, the desire growing in that spot between her legs.
She strained slightly against the bonds, hoping the movement would convince him to release her. Instead, he looked at her with amusement, giving her a small shake of his head, as if he were chastising a young child.
Returning his attention to his finger, he let it trace a path to her right breast, watching it rise and fall in time with her quick, shallow breaths. "Relax, Fred, or you're going to hyperventilate," he whispered, amusement lifting the corners of his mouth into a slight smile. The sound of his voice mingled with the sounds of her breathing, seeming loud in the quiet of her room.
'Good,' she thought, 'he's speaking. Which means that she could speak, and he wouldn't get mad or all fangy. Well, hopefully.'
"Wh-what are you doing, Angel? Why? I don't understand," she told him, apprehension and confusion leaking out in her voice alongside the words.
"Because you need it. Because you need to start living again," he told her softly. "Just relax, enjoy, give yourself up to the sensations. Let me do this for you."
His quiet words stunned her. Seeing her stillness and misjudging it as acquiescence, he began moving his finger again, tracing circles around her breast. Slowly, he lowered a second finger, then a third. Then, at last, his hand was cupping her, his thumb whispering across her nipple. As she watched, he bent his head, and using his tongue and teeth, he nipped the tight nub, teasing it and causing it to strain upright, as if asking for more.
Fred couldn't help herself, she moaned deeply, passion and sensation overwhelming the intelligent, analytical thought on which she prided herself. She wanted him; wanted what he was making her feel. There would be consequences, surely, but right now she didn't care. There was plenty of time tomorrow to worry about that.
Arching up towards him as much as her bonds would allow, she gave him what encouragement she could. Angel seemed to understand, his eyes burning deep into her own, before he bent back down to continue his work. His lips enveloped her breast, the suction of his entire mouth bringing it into his mouth. The sensations caused by the cool cavern were driving her crazy. Her head thrashed back and forth, out of control, her legs clenching and unclenching as she tried to bring herself relief.
Finally, just when she thought she could stand it no longer, she felt his mouth release her, the sudden cold air shocking on her wet breast. His teeth gave one last tug on her nipple before tracing a path down her stomach, blunt teeth biting here and there, then stopping to nibble around the edge of her bellybutton.
'So close, so very close,' Fred's fevered mind thought, her senses reeling from his attack. Her nostrils flared, inundated with the scent of his sweet-smelling hair and sandalwood skin. Her ears strained, catching the sound of her racing heart and the small gasps she made as he discovered new places and different techniques for demanding her awareness.
Sensing her lack of attention, he gripped a small amount of skin with his teeth, biting hard enough to cause her to start, but not hard enough to hurt her...much. He looked up at her through half-closed lids, noting that her own eyes were wide open and wild.
Releasing her skin, he broke off the contact, moving his head down even lower, his tongue licking and teasing the curls of her sex and the pale flesh below. Her mouth gave soft mews, her body craving the relief she was so sure he was about to give her.
Placing his body at the entrance of her cunt, he swirled his tongue around her labia, tasting the sweet scent and flavor of her arousal. She smelled like wildflowers drizzled in honey, sweet and natural. Hardening his tongue, he plunged it into her sex, her passage filled with liquid heat, the heat slowly warming his cold tongue.
Fred felt his tongue enter her and groaned at the icy sensation, shivers of pleasure and cold traveling up and down her spine. As her channel warmed his tongue, she felt other sensations begin. Slowly, gently, he began to lick her, his rough tongue feeling like soft sandpaper against her passage. She clenched and released her hands, arching her hips in an effort to escape the feel of his raspy tongue and the sensations of sensual pain it was bringing her. 'It's too intense,' she thought, her body confused by the pleasure and pain of his actions.
Finally, he withdrew his tongue, swiftly thrusting two fingers into her wetness. With his thumb, he found her clit, lightly running a fingernail along the surface of it, repeating the action when he heard her breath catch and her heartbeat increase yet again. Slowly he withdrew the two fingers from inside her, running them lightly along the top wall of her channel as he went. Then, when they were almost out, he drove them back in deeply, setting up an even rhythm of thrusting. In the meantime, his remaining fingers and thumb continued to tease her clit, pinching and pulling it gently.
As her pulse increased and her moans became a steady stream of sound, he realized that she was nearing her peak. Bending his head down again, he ran his raspy tongue along her clit, the texture and feel of the action sending her over the edge. Her body tensed, then exploded, the sensations starting at that place between her legs, then flowing outward like a tidal wave.
As the sensations subsided, Fred closed her eyes, her body struck with
a quiet lassitude. Without realizing it, she sank into unconsciousness
and a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
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It was dawn when she awoke again, the quiet sounds of the morning beginning to penetrate her unconscious mind, dragging it out of the dark and demanding attention like a small child. Fred stretched, feeling the muscles of her body flex and relax as she thought about the day ahead.
Suddenly, memories of her nocturnal visitor rushed into her mind like a rip tide, threatening to pull her under. She sat up quickly, looking to the corners of the bed but seeing no sign of the restraints she remembered being there. Looking down her body, she realized that she was wearing her nightgown, not naked as she remembered being earlier. Had any of it really happened, or had it just been an incredibly realistic dream, a fantasy her mind had come up with to make her happy?
Needing answers of some kind, Fred walked quietly to her door and put her ear to the crack, waiting to hear any sounds from outside. Hearing nothing, the slim brunette slowly opened the door, ready to jump back inside at the first sight of...well, anything.
Seeing nothing that alarmed her, she crept down the hall, coming to a halt outside of Angel's door. She stood outside, ear pressed to the door, waiting to hear sounds of breathing or snoring. 'Silly,' she scolded herself silently, 'he's a vampire. When he sleeps, he sleeps like the dead. 'Cuz, well, he is.'
Opening the door slowly, Fred slipped quietly inside before easing the door closed again. She stood there for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the velvety darkness, until she could make out his still form on the large bed. She stayed there watching him, uncertain, looking for any outward sign that what she remembered really *had* happened.
She was too afraid to wake him up for no reason. Angel would think she was crazy, she just knew it. Maybe he'd chalk it up to some delayed reaction to her experiences in Pylea. Finally, confused and frustrated, she gave a small sigh and turned to leave. As her hand reached out for the door, she heard him shift in his bed, his covers falling away to reveal the white expanse of his chest. Her eyes fluttered back to his face and she saw his eyes open and catch her own.
"What is it, Fred?" His voice was neutral, neither concerned nor surprised to see her here in his bedroom in the early dawn.
The brunette stood silently, biting her lower lip, unsure of what to say. She couldn't just ask him outright, it just wasn't in her to do that. Finally she turned back to the door, saying softly, "Go back to sleep, Angel. It was nothing."
She left him there, allowing sleep claim him once again.
It must have all been a dream...
The End