You'd Think I'd Learnt By Now

By Angel Jade

I have to wonder where I developed this side of me. Which one of my fucked-up family members passed it on…what event in my screwed up existence made me so weak and pathetic?

The only answer I come to is the one I don’t want to hear right now.

And so here I am again, another stupid attempt at bringing Angel to his knees (I mean that metaphorically but I can’t say I’d complain at the literal meaning). And he lets me get away with it every time.

He knows why I keep doing it. Why I spend so much time and energy trying to piss him off. Because that’s all it does…piss him off. I couldn’t care less about the senior partners and what they want. I know what I want. Perhaps it would be easier to get him to become Angelus again.

At least I’d get a fuck out of it.

Before he killed me slowly and painfully.

“I’m getting tired Lindsey.” Angel sighs, calmly. Way too calmly.

“That’s the point, Angel.” I reply, trying and failing to match his tone of voice. There is no doubt to who in control here.

“But I have to ask…what are you after, Lindsey?” He asks, coldly.

“The senior partners…”

“Fuck the senior partners.” He says, raising his voice.

And suddenly, I’m scared. Not for my life, not of him but of what I am getting myself into. Has he finally figured it out? Is he finally going to do it?

“What do you want, Lindsey?” He asks again, firmer this time. I wonder how far I can push him. I have no desire to drop to my knees and blurt out why I’m here. That’s not how I want things to go.

“Let me see…” I reply cockily. “I want to watch as you slip and fall onto a conveniently placed stake and turn into dust.”

I didn’t see him move, but I sure as hell heard his voice in my ear.

“Wrong answer.”

I spin around subconsciously, wondering how it’s possible he can move so fast. Wondering what other amazing feats he can perform. I stumble backwards, my face locked into an indignant glare. Hopefully. I’ve mastered the art of putting on faces to hide how I feel, but when I stand so close to him, I feel as if I’ve learned nothing. As if I should be afraid.

Common sense tells me I should. I am. But not of him. And defiantly not for my life.

“Really?” I remain confident. I am Lindsey McDonald, one of Wolfram and Harts…oh, Jesus he’s looking at me. His eyes are so intense, I look away immediately, realising afterwards that I was only showing weakness. “Then tell me, Angel,” I look back up, returning his gaze. “What do I want?”

“I think we both know what you want Lindsey. It’s just a question of whether you’re willing to pay the price?”

Price. What price? If he means my life…I can pay with that. Other than that…what do I have that doesn’t belong to Wolfram and Hart?

“Price?” I manage to squeak out. Yeah, real cool Lindsey.

He cocks his head, a smirk forming on his lips and I feel my stomach tighten. Equal measures of fear and lust. Now that’s why I’m here.

“I can smell when you’re afraid.” He states, simply changing the subject.

“So?” I ask, frowning, pretending I have no idea where he’s going with this.

“I can smell when you’re aroused.”

How do you reply to that? I nod meekly.

“But you know what?” He asks, smiling arrogantly at me. “I don’t even need to smell you.” I wonder for a very brief second what he means by that. Until he answers my silent question. I feel a sharp pain from my groin. He has me by the balls and I am being literal this time. It takes all my will power not to scream…or beg.

I feel my cock harden, straining against my clothes. Oh shit, this could be embarrassing. The guy tries to crush my balls and I get a hard on.

I can actually see him basking in my humiliation.

“You forget, Linz.” He says my name with such distain, I wonder if he’s planning on ripping my balls off. “You forget who I am.”

“I know who you are.” I reply, my voice wavering from pain and fear.

“I am a vampire, boy.” I wince at the term. My father called me that when he was pissed off. Not the kind of memory I want in my head right now. “I have had lifetimes of experience in this kind of game and you think you can play me?”

I shake my head. That was never my intention. Sick as I am, it’s not me playing him that’s kept me awake for hours every night.

“So I’ll ask you again.” He says, annoyed but still deceivingly calm. “What do you want?”

I suddenly become very aware his hand is still holding me, as he squeezes harder. I cringe from the pain before looking him in the eye. “Fuck you.”

I knew from the look in his eyes that that was enough. I’d pushed him far enough. If it’s possible, I think I’m getting harder.

He shoves me across the room with brutal force. I land painfully over a desk, knocking things everywhere. I try to stand and turn around, I want to see him coming but he’s on me before I can move.

So here I am, being pressed into a desk, on my stomach, with a severely pissed off vampire looming over me.

I told you I was sick.

“Is this what you want, Lindsey?” He asks.

I can’t help but smile. He doesn’t see it. Because this is exactly what I want. “Get the fuck off me.” I yell, wondering if he believes my newfound anger.

I feel his hand grabbing at my pants and inhale deeply with anticipation. They’re down by my feet before I can pretend to protest.

“This is the last time you try to fuck with me, boy. Understand?” He asks, his voice full of venom.

I don’t answer him and I doubt very much that he cares right now. He’s at the same place as I am. There’s only one thing we want.

I hear his zipper and it sends me over the edge. Panic sets in. I’m so afraid now, I can’t breathe. I try to push myself from the table but his hand is pushing harshly into my back. I’m being pressed to the table and I know now that there will be no getting out of this.

And that turns me on even more.

I don’t think it is possible to hate myself any more than I do right now. I’m a masochist and I know it. And not surprisingly, right now I don’t give a shit.

I can feel his cock pressing against my ass and realise that this is probably going to hurt. I don’t know about this stuff. I’m not into this…not usually. Another reason to hate the fucker.

I wonder why he’s taking his time. Is he waiting for me to beg? Because that’s not how I want to play it. I want to keep my pride in tact. I don’t want him to think I am a willing partner in this.

I don’t even get the chance to beg before he pushes himself inside me. Not as hard as I thought he would, but the pain is excruciating. He must have used lubrication, there’s no way it would feel like this if he hadn’t.

Thank God for small mercies.

He’s picking up speed, slamming into me, asserting dominance and control. I had been expecting that. But not the pain. Is that what he had meant by pay the price? Or have I yet to pay that?

Part of me really doesn’t want to know.

I groan before I can suppress myself. My erection is being pressed into the table painfully. I try and shift but it’s kinda hard to do when you’re being impaled to a desk.

I think I can hear him sniggering. At my pain. My discomfort. My humiliation.

It makes me feel better to know I’m not the only sick one. He gets off on pain as much as I do. The difference is, I’m new at this. This is a one-time experience only. I have no intention of…Oh God that feels good!

The pain is subsiding and the desk is rubbing me in all the right places. I gasp in pleasure, unable to keep it to myself.

Big mistake.

I don’t think he had plans of letting me enjoy this.

His hand is moving round, reaching for my cock. Moments before I could come, his hand clamped down on the base of my cock ruthlessly.

I cry out, more in desperation than pain. I want to come, I need to come.

“What’s the matter, Lindsey?” He asks, his smirk no doubt in place right about now.

I won’t beg. I won’t beg. I won’t beg.

“Please…” I whisper unintentionally.

“Please what, Lindsey?”

The bastard’s going to make me say it. “I need to…” I can’t say it. I need to have some pride after this.

“Need to what?” He asks, seductively in my ear.

I can feel my eyes welling up. I really don’t give a shit about pride anymore. I need to …I have to.

“Please…I need to come.” I say to the solid surface of the polished desk.

“You can do better than that.” He says, teasing me. Mocking me. Pounding into me with little care that I am only human.

Can I do better than that? What does he want from me?

“Say my name.” He says, steadily.

Sounds so fucking simple. Just a name. A thousand times I have said his name and never had a problem…

“Angel.” I say quietly.

“Beg, Lindsey.” He instructs. I am above this. I was above this. No longer.

“Please let me come Angel.” I say, as clearly as I would in court. Words, as if I were reading aloud. No meaning. They’re not my words.

Then why do I feel so broken?

Oh, he’s good. He’s done this for so long, he knows the buttons to press. But he didn’t bank on one thing. I’m here willingly. I am, in a really twisted way, enjoying this.

I feel him come inside of me, releasing me at the same time and coaxing me to orgasm.

I moan, inaudibly.

And then I feel the cold breath against my ears again. “Next time I won’t take it easy on you, human.” He says. Effectively warning me that that had not been vampire sex. But next time…?

No next time.

Never again.

I’ve learnt my lesson. Don’t fuck with big bad vampires.

And even as he walks out, leaving me alone in a last attempt at showing me what a worthless piece of crap I am…I contemplate what I’ll have to do to push him over the edge next time.

I told you I was sick.

~Fin~