Twenty minutes later and Cordelia was so very much over slow. Had she been nervous? Sure she had – who could blame her, since her last foray into sex had ended up with her knocked up by Angel’s son?
She was trying extra hard to not think about that but then, Angel made that easy because – and she was aware she sounded like a giant ho when she said this – the guy was good. Better than good. Fan-fucking-tastic, actually.
He’d made her come twice already and they hadn’t actually got to the sex part yet. Sated and so painfully aware that she was lying on Angel’s desk with something digging in her side, she slapped him on the arm. “Remember when you said we’d go slow?”
He pressed a kiss at the small of her back, right over the middle of her tattoo and Cordelia shivered slightly, feeling him smile against her skin as she did so. She felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from both her shoulders and her heart, and though she wasn’t completely free, it felt like she’d get there eventually.
“I think I died and went to Heaven,” she murmured.
“You may have blacked out for a minute there.”
“Oh, you’re just all over the smugness there, aren’t you?”
He was working kisses up her arm now, sweeping feather light touches over the arch of her shoulder. She smiled when he got to her lips and pulled him down towards her a little, tasting herself on his tongue.
“You’re way too dressed for this to go any further,” she pointed out, getting impatient and beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt.
Angel smiled down at her and tried to push her hands away.
“Angel,” she whined, “It’s no fun if you don’t let me play!”
He laughed at that, placing a soft, open-mouthed kiss on the swell of her breast, “I thought I was.”
“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes, now down to where his shirt met the slacks. She leered at him, wiggling her eyebrows as she pressed her hand against his cock, “See? It’s good when you let me play.”
“I’ve noticed,” he breathed out, unable to stop himself from thrusting into her hand when she wrapped it around him. “Fuck, Cordy.”
“That’s the plan,” she grinned, then made a face. “That was a little too bad porn-ish for my liking.”
“I thought it was pithy,” said Angel, smiling at her. “Couch?”
“Do I want imprint of wood tattooed on my ass?”
He took that as a yes and scooped her into his arms, carrying her over to the leather couch he’d had put in his office months ago.
She yelped as the cold material touched her back and Angel chuckled, “Sorry.”
“You did that on purpose,” she admonished with a smile, watching as he divested himself of the rest of his clothes.
“Me?” He was the picture of innocence, total kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, and he was driving her damn well crazy, pressing himself against her aching centre like that.
“Angel,” she moaned, “Would you just—”
He slid home in one thrust and Cordelia gasped, her back arching. He kissed her softly, waiting for her assent to move and when her hips canted slightly, he took that as his cue.
She felt thick, wet and heavy, wanting to take him in, take him deeper. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his mouth to hers, crying out as his hand slipped between them and thrummed her flesh, once, twice… And Cordelia was clenched around him, gasping his name.
He kept going, tiny thrusts of his hips as he ate her mouth, and Cordelia whimpered softly as Angel took her higher, not letting her fall just yet.
She ran her hands over the expanse of skin, down to his ass where she angled him deeper and Cordelia arched up again, her muscles sore and tired, overworked now. His thrusts were still slow, languid, and when he hit that sweet spot inside her, Cordelia cried out.
“Jesus, Angel, what did you…”
He was smiling against her mouth. He did it again, pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger, and Cordelia clutched his shoulders as she exploded around him.
He called her name as he came, dropping his face into her shoulder and biting down lightly on her skin with blunt teeth.
Cordelia’s hips twitched and she slid her feet down the back of his calves, “Told you there were advantages to having sex on the Boss’ desk,” she murmured, sleepy and sated.
She felt him smile again, felt him nuzzling his nose into her neck.
“I don’t think Wes would have liked it much…”
She laughed at that, watching him for a moment as he settled beside her. “Angel-”
“I know, Cordy,” he said softly, reading the look on her face more adeptly than she’d expected, “we still need to talk about things.”
Cordelia sighed, “Normal people would have a different post-sex conversation. Not ‘Your Best Move Post-Coma, Pre-Apocalypse’…”
“We’re not exactly normal,” Angel observed, folding her in his arms a little tighter before he spoke again. “Wait, you think there’s gonna be an apocalypse?”
“What do you think the Senior Partners are gonna do when they learn the CEO is shacking up with Vision Girl – throw a party? There’s gonna be hell to pay, Angel, and you know it.”
Angel shrugged, “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You were right with what you said earlier, Cordelia. It’s time to start fighting for us.”
She found herself smiling slightly, “Now that’s a cause I can get behind.”
“Good,” said Angel, “because it would have really sucked fighting it alone.”
“Well, duh…” Cordelia grinned, “Y’know, your life would go much easier if you just admitted you needed me.”
“I do need you,” he said, firmly, “I always did.”
She smiled again at that, “Finally, he realizes. My Champion, Ladies and Gentleman…”