Means to an End

Author: Laure/Lara

E-mail: lara@sunflower.com

Distribution: http://www.grapevine.net/~lwilson/btvs.html.  If you have permission to put my fics up, you're welcome to it.  All others, please ask.

Rating: NC17

Content: smut, a bit of violence

Spoilers: Set post Drusilla's turning, pre-soul returning with flashbacks

Summary: Angelus is never faithful to Darla and her anger at him becomes a game they both enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine, this is sad.  They belong to the evil god Joss who I love and adore now more than ever.  The WB can rot in hell.

A/N: My Angel Ficathon response for killerwease who wanted Angelus/Darla before soul, dark, with a music box and pitchfork, and no rape.  Hope you like it!

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She met him with a pitchfork through the groin.  When he regained consciousness his first memory was of agony, and he curled into a ball, his hands hesitantly going down his naked body.  Relief flooded him when he found his parts were intact, if covered in dried blood, and then he warily opened his eyes.

He was in her bedchamber, on her bed, and could smell the lingering scent that was uniquely Darla, but there was no sign of her.  A fire burned low in the fireplace and an oil lamp sat on her dressing table.  It was still night, and hunger flooded him. He could tell he'd lost a lot of blood, but that was nothing new between them.

Even getting stabbed in the groin was nothing new.

A wicked smile crossed Angelus' face and he rolled onto his back, stretching his hands over his head.  He knew he did this just to provoke such a reaction from his mistress.

~~~~~

Angelus couldn't stop.  He heard Darla's furious voice, could feel the tremors in the floorboards beneath his knees as she stormed towards him, but he was too close.  She let him come, then dragged him off the human whore he'd purchased for a few pennies, and snapped the girl's neck like a twig.  As he lay on his back, panting uselessly, his golden she demon kicked him in the balls and left him there.

~~~~~

Licking his lips, Angelus smirked at the memory.  The pain had been brilliant, leaving him clutching his guts for an hour.  Long enough for an angry mob to form--apparently the whore'd been popular amongst the dock workers of Bristol.

She had only been his first indiscretion, only a few months after being turned.  It wasn't that Darla didn't satisfy him and wasn't everything a man could want, but he was young, handsome, and his lust was boundless.

And sometimes he simply needed the heat.

~~~~~

"You're so lovely," he crooned as he slipped into the daughter of an Earl, pushing through her virginity as they lay together in a garden while a ball went on two hundred feet away.  The girl whimpered, but clung to him, wrapping herself around him.  She wasn't his first virgin, but he never tired of them.  All that hot blood.

He kissed her expertly, his tongue finding hers, his teeth scraping against her lips.  As he pumped into her, he could feel her body tensing, and he slipped a hand between them to bring her to completion.

As she came, he bit her tongue, taking her cry of pain and pleasure into his mouth as he rode her to his own orgasm and her death.

Rising from the corpse in blood-stained white silk, he sensed Darla right before the blow that knocked him unconscious.

~~~~~

And there'd been another angry mob.  Eventually he'd learned to be more discreet, but it was many years before he confronted Darla.

~~~~~

"You're not faithful to me," he protested, tugging on the chains that bound him to the wall in the dungeon of the ruined castle to which she'd dragged him after pulling him from the bed of twin actresses.

Darla tapped the riding crop against her naked thigh and then slashed it across his chest.  "And how does that relate?"

Angelus gaped at her.  "But...isn't this because I've been with other women?"

"Of course."

"But..."  Another blow, this one perilously close to his groin, silenced him, and he took the beating stoically.

It wasn't until hours later when he lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, Darla rocking on his cock, her fingers digging into his chest, his bruising her breasts, that he remembered she hadn't explained.

Darla cried out in pleasure and shuddered, squeezing her muscles around him and bringing him off with a shout.  As he cradled her atop him, he carefully judged her mood, then broached the subject again.

Sighing, Darla rose from him and reached for her clothes, shaking out her rumpled petticoats.  "Dear boy, you are my creation.  You do what I tell you and whom I tell you.  I, on the other hand, am your sire and don't answer to you."

"That really isn't fair."

She laughed in his face and swirled out of the dungeon.

~~~~~

He'd never stopped, of course, because someday he'd show her he was the master here, not her.  But that goal wasn't something that drove him, and the pain was intriguing.  So was seeing her so furious, breasts heaving, fresh blood coloring her cheeks. Sometimes he could cajole her out of her anger.  Those were the best times.

~~~~~

The girl cowered in a corner, crooning to herself, bleeding and ruined by him, no longer fit to be anyone's bride.  Darla rolled them, bringing him over her, lifting her head to kiss him.

"She's your new obsession, isn't she.  Would you like to keep her?" she crooned.  "Shall we turn her?"

"Really?  You'd let me keep her?"

"You've already broken her, and it might be fun to have a girlfriend."  As she spoke, Darla arched her hips and tightened her vaginal muscles until Angelus' eyes rolled back in his skull and he growled her name.  She laughed and rolled them again, rising above him and fucking him hard.

All the while the girl babbled about snakes and played with herself beneath her torn shift.

~~~~~

The opening of the door drew him from his memories and he glanced in that direction, catching sight of his cock stirring-- thoughts of Drusilla's turning always aroused him.  There was a twinge of pain, but the wounds obviously weren't severe enough to prevent arousal.

Which was good, as Darla slipped naked into the room.  She ignored him, drifting over to the fireplace, drinking blood from a delicate crystal goblet.  The firelight gleamed off her, turning her pale skin golden and finding red highlights in her hair.

Angelus cock hardened fully and he grunted, shifting on the bed so that he lounged against the headboard, arms stretched out along the smooth mahogany.  "Come to bed, lover."

Still ignoring him, Darla wandered over to her dressing table and opened a fragile music box.  A portion of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" spilled from it, the music delicate, tinkling over their ears.  "This is my favorite gift from you."  The box was old, decorated with inlaid ivory carved into tiny patterns of stars and moons and a winter landscape.

"'Twas a gift from the heart."

She leveled her eyes on him and smiled coldly.  "We don't have hearts, Angelus."

He shrugged.  "We have bodies that lust, that's enough."

"It seems to be," she agreed, setting down the box and letting the music continue to play.  "Are you healed?"

Angelus smirked and nodded at his erection.  "Isn't it obvious."

"You deserved it."

"The wench was worth it."  At Darla's growl of outrage, he laughed.  "And you are so easy to provoke, lover.  Come to bed and spend that passion on me."

"Wicked, evil boy," she replied, her voice wry and full of humor. "Why ever did I make you?" She joined him on the bed, lowering her mouth to his for a quick kiss.

"Well, you hadn't seen my cock, yet, so I'm not sure myself."

Darla wrapped one hand around the shaft then slid it up to the head as she said, "Lucky for you, you're more than just this piece of flesh or I probably would have killed you in Bristol."

"None of them are you," Darla," Angelus groaned as she continued to pump him.  "They'll never be anything to me."

"And what am I to you?" she asked as she pressed kisses down his chest, her unbound hair brushing his stomach, his thighs, her teeth leaving marks as she bit his taut flesh.

"My world, my mistress, my lover."  He arched helplessly into his hand, shudders of pleasure wracking him as she brought him quickly to orgasm.  "My sire."

Darla kissed the tip of his softening cock, then moved quickly and straddled him, shoving him down the bed until she was kneeling over his head.  "And what do naughty boys do to make it up to their sires?"

Angelus took her hips in his hands and pulled her down to his mouth.

End

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