Sleeping with Tigers 7   1 comment

Chapter 7

Angel’s eyes opened, and for a minute he wondered why he was awake. It had taken him several hours before blessed sleep had crept up on him, the couch feeling even more uncomfortable than before his little break from it. So why had he woken up now?

Then he heard it: a muffled but distinct whimper.

It was not unlike a tidal wave, gathering speed softly until it reached its crescendo and gushed high and strong, and before the shrill scream pierced the air, Angel was already on his feet and in her room. This was a bad one. Sweat dampened her hair and glistened on her distraught face, her body thrashing about and pushing down the tumbled covers.

Without a second thought, Angel climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his arms, slipping into the routine of soothing and whispering soft words in her ear. But this time, although Cordelia settled, her eyes opened drowsily, slowly narrowing when they locked onto his dark, concerned orbs.

“Another nightmare, jeez, lucky me,” her voice shaky, then her mouth tightened as she attempted to shrug him off. “All better now, so why don’t you just toddle off back to your couch?” Even as his large body stiffened, Cordelia felt a wash of shame; he’d come in to help her and what did she do? Throw it back in his face.

“I’m not going anywhere, Cordelia.” He finally replied, his voice husky with hurt feelings. “I promised to be here for the nightmares, so suck it up.” He added, his own mouth firming with stubbornness. When she merely shrugged and settled down next to him, he couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised. Where were the outraged yells, or the pushing and poking she so enjoyed inflicting on him?

“I’m tired, so shut up and go to sleep,” she muttered instead, and closed her eyes, tucking her face into his throat. With a deep sigh of tired confusion and relief, Angel did just that.

***

“Please, Angel, please; touch me,” Cordelia groaned, Angel chuckled low and held her warm body closer to his.

“Tell me where and I will, ” he nipped gently at her throat, one hand between them both, fingers playing with the edge of silk panties that were now damp with her want. She moaned deep in her throat and urged her hips closer to his hand, but he refused to play. “Uh uh!” he shook his head, holding her hips slightly away with a firm hand.

“Touch me!” she growled, eliciting another chuckle. Angel shook his head and lathed her throat with a cool, hungry tongue. Cordelia arched into him, panting heavily and throwing a long silky leg over his hip. When she realized he stubbornly wanted to hear it first, she finally took courage in both hands.

“My…my clit…touch me there; God, Angel, do it!” she moaned, nipping on his ear lobe and sending a shudder through his large frame.

Pleased with her compliance, Angel let his fingers slide into her panties and rubbed her throbbing clit with the pad of his fingers. The response was immediate; hips bucking sharply into his hand and she mewled aloud. Her heat called to him, and with a quick sharp flick of her clit, he slipped the finger lower and gently slid it deep into her core…. God! So hot, tight and wet! He didn’t stop pushing until he was in to the knuckle. He had to see her face, see those moans rounding her full, delicious lips….

Then he blinked.

“Shit!””

Yes, she was draped over him like a human blanket, and yes, his finger was embedded deep into her heat…. but Cordelia Chase was fast asleep.

It had all been a dream; an incredibly hot, melting dream- but still a dream his subconscious mind had made up as it went along. And now he lay there with his hand down her panties, the pad of his thumb on her throbbing clit- and a finger plumbing her tight wet depths.

A soft feminine moan jolted his big body, and he quickly checked her heart shaped face again. Still asleep, and probably thinking she was having a wet dream, going by how drenched her core was right now. He just hoped it wasn’t a certain street kid she was dreaming about. An involuntary growl slipped past his lips before taking a deep breath.

Gritting his teeth, Angel slowly slid the offending finger from her heat, watching her face carefully as he did so. With the care a collector of fragile glass ornaments would have been impressed with, he rearranged her mussed nightclothes and laid her onto the mattress, sliding out of the bed and padding silently to the bathroom. Once there, he knocked his forehead against the wall repeatedly and groaned softly.

God! He was a pervert of the worst kind. He’s taken advantage of a young woman in her bed- when he was supposed to be there, protecting her from monsters that attacked her in her sleep. His mouth twisted bitterly at the irony of that. Opening his eyes, he raised the guilty hand and stared hungrily at the offending digit.

Her creamy juices coated his flesh, and without even realizing it, his hand had crept closer to his mouth, until with a choked moan, the finger disappeared between his lips. Her taste exploded on his tongue, and Angel realized he’d done the second most stupid completely wrong thing tonight. Now that he’d had a taste, the vampire knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he had more.

He’d once told the Slayer that it wasn’t the vampire who was the problem here; it was the man. Always weak and governed by his body’s needs; he’d thought that weakness had been safely tucked away out of sight and mind. Ha! That was a joke. But the demon in him played a part too. His unreasoning jealousy had been to the forefront for most of yesterday, twisting his gut and planting thoughts of blood, death and revenge against his male friends and acquaintances. It had to stop.

There was no way at all he could climb back into that bed with her tonight- if at all, ever again. His subconscious desires had tipped the odds, and his control was a hair trigger; knowing what or who could set it off wasn’t helping here. The nightmares were still a nightly occurrence, and he couldn’t suddenly go back on his words just because he was a dirty old man who should know better.

Could his unlife get any worse? Angel figured not.

***

The room brightened enough to drag Cordelia out of her deep sleep and she blinked owlishly as she took stock of her surroundings. Two things hit her: no sign of the big undead lug…. And her panties were really, really icky. Her face flushed ten shades of red as she imagined him waking up and scenting her, giving away the topic of her dreams last night. She could still feel his hand touching her there, a thick, long and slightly calloused finger penetrating her welcoming, overheated core- God! How was she going to face him today?

Glancing at her bedside clock, Cordelia was surprised to see the hour hand creeping up to 11am, and with a shocked gasp she shot out of bed and dived into the bathroom. Suddenly- with a large sense of relief, his absence made more sense; especially as she’d belatedly heard the soft murmur of male voices as she made her rapid way to the beckoning, get-rid-of-the-evidence shower.

***

“Drink” Cordelia slammed it down in front of him and it slopped over the edge, hitting his fingers as he’d reached out to grab it.

Without thinking, Angel absently slid two blood-spattered fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. When he looked up, Cordelia’s eyes were transfixed on his mouth. He swallowed and slowly dropped his hand until it rested on the tabletop, not missing the way her dilated eyes watched its descent. Then she seemed to snap out of it, swiveling on her heels and stalking out of the dining room.

“ohcrapohcrapohcrap” the two words that had become her best friends tumbled rapidly from her lips as she made her way unsteadily back to the kitchen, sliding numbly into one of the chairs and dropping her dark head into her hands.

“I might as well wear a sign around my neck stating ‘Angel fingered me in my dreams” she muttered softly, nearly falling off her chair when a dark shape appeared in her line of vision. Angel almost stumbled as he caught her words; the brunette had no idea just how true those words were -that is, if you changed ‘dreams’ to ‘sleep’!

He swallowed convulsively several times; truly glad Cordelia seemed suddenly fascinated by the light Formica top of the kitchen table.

“Cloth for the spill, he hastily explained, marveling at his steady, even tone. Grabbing a tea towel, he left as silently as he’d arrived.

Holy cow!. Hey! That was good! New words; Cordelia concentrated on that fact rather than consider the idea that the vampire of the amazing, supernatural ears had heard her little oopsie. “Hmm…maybe I should introduce them to ‘oh. Crap’?” She seriously considered, still refusing to think beyond her trips of temporary insanity. Well, they said talking to yourself was the fist sign of insanity- and giving social lives to words must be up there in the fifth stage at least.

“That’s it, I’m officially insane” Cordelia rose from the table with an erect spine and a firm expression. “And as such, I’m gonna walk in there and act like nothing was said- and if he dares to mention it, I can tell him I’m a psycho and therefore not responsible for what my psychotic brain makes me say” she finished breathlessly, and walked regally back to the dining room, smiling brightly at the two men who’d glanced up at her entrance.

Taking a seat at the far end of the table, Cordelia reached out to grab a book and pinned her eyes to it, absolutely refusing to look at the large, pale hand that rested casually on the tabletop. This fixation had to end now! If she was to get any peace of mind, and with the coming night oh so quickly creeping up on them insidiously, she had to find her center… well, maybe a little bed-edge hugging tonight was in order if she were to keep what little sanity she had left!

Angel had watched the industrious brunette with hooded eyes all through the late morning and afternoon, as she’d flitted around the apartment, barely sitting down since she’d got up. The fact that her had eyes refused to meet his made him quickly realize she still hadn’t forgiven him for the night before.

He was also truly grateful that she’d showered before joining them. If he’d had to put up with her earlier arousal attacking his senses, well, lets just say, she would have ended up being manhandled into the bathroom and held under the shower until every trace had been washed away. He would have naturally left her clothed when he’d done it, of course, ‘cos that was just…. hell, he was a vampire, not a robot, for chrissakes! But no doubt her clothes would have become transparent, and what was a vampire to do? Yes, thank the Gods Cordelia enjoyed her showers, that all he could say.

The thought of Wes hammering on the door demanding to know what the hell he was doing wouldn’t have done much for his libido anyway, so maybe he would have been able to manage that little task without totally embarrassing himself and giving the brunette a coronary. All this thinking soon made him realize Cordelia was on his mind far too much to be healthy.

He valued his family jewels, regardless of the fact they’d been left to gather dust since that eye-opener of a night with Buffy Summers. He wondered how bony the brunette’s knees were, and instantly regretted the thought, as a personal version of Cinemax shot into his slowly frying brain: long, golden and going on forever- so not the image he needed right now when self control was as necessary as feeding. No longer being a soulless vampire had it’s disadvantages.

Back in the day, he would have taken what he wanted and blow the repercussions… but then again, Cordelia would have ended up dead or worse; undead like himself.

Angel could imagine too well what kind of vampire the feisty brunette would be, and shuddered in awe and a tinge of fear at the thought. And people thought she had an evil streak now! Shaking himself discreetly, the vampire shrugged that thought out of his head- it was the last thing he wanted; her heat was something he selfishly wanted to keep.

Then there was this thing: Was she actually aware and waiting to drop her knowledge of his dirty little secret at a really, really bad time; or was that muttered comment merely due to her own x-rated dreams? No way would she be sitting there now all seemingly relaxed and casual if she’d known where his fingers had been last night. Stakes would have most likely been somewhere in that particular scenario.

So what was with the sudden hand obsession? Maybe Cordelia had developed this fascination with hands in general? But as he’d covertly watched her all afternoon, it seemed more and more that his hands were the only ones that drew her absorbed attention; never once looking at the Englishman’s – and she did mention his name in that hot little sentence. He’d heard that loud and clear.

Had she been dreaming about him? Could it be possible that he would feature in such a highly erotic dream? And could there be a chance she was attracted as much as he? If vampires had had the ability to flush and sweat profusely, his growing arousal at that thought would be a neon sign to all present- being forever grateful for the cover the table afforded.

So uncomfortable with her presence and his thoughts, he found himself actually relieved when his seer abruptly had a vision minutes later. Not that the relief lasted long as she convulsed with pain and small screams in his confining, protective hold. It seemed their quiet period had come to an end, but it was probably a good idea for him to get out for a while anyway. Sitting around her apartment wasn’t helping clear his head.

Or maybe he should start keeping a journal again? Angel shook his head instantly at that thought as he left her apartment. Cordelia was naturally nosy, and if she ever came across a journal that would most probably end up looking like a personal version of the Karma Sutra… he shuddered at the thought. Nope, he would just have to spend a bit more time away from her home, or else a bit of quality time in the bathroom alone with Mister very, very Frustrated.

Chapter 8

Posted June 3, 2017 by califi in Complete

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