Speak No Evil. 5

Part 5

The Hyperion Hotel was much closer to Cordelia’s apartment than Caritas was.

Lorne shuddered his way into the lobby, rubbing his tired eyes like he was trying to erase a particularly disturbing mental image and mumbling something about needing a Seabreeze.

It seemed to Lorne that Wesley was the only one still awake by now. He was slouched in his office, doting over a dusty old tome from days of yore. Lorne wondered if Wesley even noticed he’d entered the room.

“Something the matter, Lorne?” He asked, halfheartedly. Okay, so maybe he had.

When Lorne didn’t immediately answer, Wesley lifted his head to find him leaning against the door frame and still looking slightly spooked.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Did you have a run-in with Angel?”

Lorne winced, “The less said of the Grande Poobah right now, the better. Don’t suppose you happened upon any ‘memory erasing’ spells in that big ol’ book of yours?”

“No… I, um.” Wes glanced at the book in his hands, and then up at Lorne again, “This happens to be one of the very rare ancient volumes of D’nish. It documents past activities of some of the more powerful Shamans – and to that end, states that the spell cast on Angel should, hopefully, wear off in less then 24 hours.”

Wes leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head, almost cockily. “It’s a rare volume indeed. One of the ones from my ‘private’ collection.”

A huge sense of relief washed over Lorne’s body – soon, oh-so-soon, the nightmare would be over. He could get back to running his club, and he could put this whole sorry mess behind him.

Suddenly exhausted, Lorne perched on the corner of Wes’ desk and rubbed his tense neck muscles before something in the book caught his eye. Cautiously, he leaned towards the page for a closer inspection.

“Private collection, huh? Then why does it have “Property of the Watcher’s Council of Great Britain” stamped in the corner?” Lorne glared at Wesley, “You didn’t steal this book, did you?”

Wes smiled to himself, “’Stealing’ is a filthy habit, Lorne. This book is what you might call ‘severance pay’.”

What? Now Wesley was a klepto? Lorne closed his eyes and hung his head. He was learning more things tonight then he ever wanted to know. He pushed himself off the desk and turned to face Wesley, his chair still tilted at an arrogant angle.

“Forget it. Don’t ever tell me, lest my brain reject the information and reboot itself.” Lorne shrugged off Wesley’s confused look, “Think you could spare a lift home for a poor suffering lounge singer, my petite pois?”

***

Vampires were supposed to be graceful.

With Cordelia locked firmly around his midriff, Angel had managed to maneuver them both in the general direction of the bed.

Of course, with his shoes still rain soaked and slippy he had skidded most of the way, and he might have banged his head a couple of times on the door frame, but he barely even noticed.

He was entranced with the idea of leaving a hickey along that tempting sweep of her neck, placed somewhere subtly between her pulse point and that perfect nub of bone at the top of vertebrate. Somewhere, preferably, where Cordelia wouldn’t even notice. He liked that idea.

Angel scanned the room. Cordelia’s bed was already fairly messed up, with the quilt lying in an unceremonious heap at the foot of the mattress. Carelessly, Angel tossed her onto the offending bed, and pounced – knocking the wind out of her whilst pinning her to the bed at the same time.

“Enthusiastic, much?” She choked out, gasping a little for air.

Angel smiled. He raised himself up so he had an arm on either side of Cordy’s head to support his upper body, making sure he didn’t crush her with his weight. Well, there was still something to be said about vampire stamina.

Angel concluded that he could quite happily have remained in that position all night, taunting her, trading off control with his eyes. Slowly, he began a small pilgrimage down her face, carefully nipping firstly at her hairline, down her forehead, over her nose and finally at her soft lips, where she caught him and kissed him hard on the mouth with no finesse or caution.

She was so warm, and soft and… Womanly. That’s what Angel’s loved most about women – they were nicely shaped, and Cordelia was the caricature of his ideal woman. Experimentally, he rocked his groin into the cradle of her hips, and was pleased with the resulting gasp that ensued.

Unconsciously, Cordelia had begun to squirm beneath him, her body trying to connect with as much of Angel as possible. She moaned in the halfhearted way people do when they get distracted by sex, and ran her fingernails down his back sheerly for the benefit of feeling his taut muscles.

Suddenly, Angel wanted to high-five something. He did it! He had actually got the girl!

Giddy, Angel slowed their kisses until they were nothing more then innocent pecks on the lips, and then he pulled away altogether.

“Can I say it?” He whispered, “I want to be the one that says it first.”

Cordelia smiled brilliantly, causing Angel’s stomach to flip-flop slightly.

“I love you.” He admitted.

“I know. And who could blame you?” Angel growled indignantly and kissed her hard, silently demanding that she stopped goofing around and please just say it.

She pulled away, sucking in a much needed mouthful of air.

“I love you too, by the way.”

Angel smiled that special flirtatious smile. The one he reserved especially for Cordy-filled occasions.

“Oh really?” He inquired.

“Duh. Very much so.”

Angel found a spot behind her ear that made her squeal unexpectedly, and latched onto it. Just beneath the surface of her skin he could taste her blood pumping erratically. It only made him moan in torment and suckle harder, trying to ignore those wiggling hips that were starting to grind against his, causing a delightful pressure and drawing out hot sensations he hadn’t felt for a long time.

Too long.

Cordelia’s eyes were tightly screwed shut. Angel lifted his head to get a better view of a woman’s face contorted in desire, probably unaware of what her hips were doing to him. He felt a familiar feeling rising in him, stronger and stronger… If he wasn’t careful, he was going to embarrass himself.

…oh. Oh GOD…

He pushed himself off Cordelia, and leaned back to sit on his ankles, his hands stilling the movement of her hips. Cordelia looked annoyed.

“Uh, hel-LO? Almost naked here! Sex now?”

Angel couldn’t hold back his smile. Cordelia raised herself up onto her elbows, on the pinnacle of anger and horniness that had her practically vibrating in Angel’s hands. He rubbed slow, deliberate circles through the fabric on her hips with his thumb, teasing her.

“Sorry.” He said simply.

Realisation dawned on her. “Oh yeah. Right. The curse.”

The cur-? Angel snorted, absolutely delighted to find he’d forgotten all about that curse. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you about that.”

“Umm, excuse me…?”

Angel leaned back over her, trailing his lips over the ‘V’ of exposed skin above her pajama top. His hands found the perfect shape of her breasts easily, and began to work the tight nipples with expert hands, drawing long gasping breaths from the woman he loved.

“It was taken care of a long, long time ago. Just forget it.”

“Angel?” She gasped.

“Mm-hm?”

“What was taken care of a long time ago-oooo…?”

Angel routinely ignored her, and began tugging at the top button of her pajamas. The sooner she was undressed, the better. His tongue darted out and met with the undeniable sensation of sweet salty skin, and the faintest taste of tangerines. “Mmm, you taste so sweet.”

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“I’m not avoiding the question, I’m just so distracted.” His head shot up in immediate curiousity, “What is this perfume you’re wearing, anyway?”

Frustrated, Cordelia pushed Angel off her and leapt to her feet, away from wandering hands. Her stance was typically Queen C in every way, her legs standing hip-width apart, arms folded and eyes blazing defiantly.

“I asked you about your Gypsy Curse, mister. You say you ‘took care of it’. How?”

Suddenly, Angel felt very embarrassed. Oh no… Not now. Please, not now.

“After Darla… The Powers, they didn’t want anymore… Uh, accidents…”

“What do you mean, accidents?” A horrible thought occurred to Cordelia, “Oh no! You slept with Darla!”

Angel clamped a hand over his mouth. Oh no! Not now! Nononono! Damn that truth spell! His face told Cordelia all she needed to know.

“You totally slept with that skank! You lied to me!”

Angel sat up on the bed and reached out for her, his panic escalating.

“I was lonely and desperate! I love you!!”

“You. Slept. With. Her.” Cordelia reiterated, as if he didn’t already get it.

“It was an accident.”

“Stop saying that! Angel, dropping a glass of water is an accident. Firing your three only friends because you want to bang your ex-girlfriend is just a big pile of premeditated crap. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was never a right time.”

“Pfft!” She pfft’d. What a jerk.

“If it wasn’t for Darla… She was the one that taught me how much I needed you. I love you. You know I love you.” Angel’s words were rushed. They had to be, in a conversation with Cordelia. She was a master of conversationalism, you had to be quick to get a word in edgeways.

“You should go sleep with Buffy. Maybe she could teach you how much you respect me.” Cordelia shouted.

Angel looked hurt.

“It was in the past. I love you – and if nothing else, you know I’m telling the truth now.” Surely, she remembered the truth spell? Couldn’t she see what she was doing to him? Angel shook his head.

Or maybe it was what he was doing to her. “Lorne was right, you need some time to think about it. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

Angel rose to his feet and headed towards the door. If he was going to do something stupid like cry, he’d rather do it in the privacy of his own sewer tunnels, thank you.

“Now where the hell are you going?” Cordelia demanded.

Angel stopped in his tracks. “Um, the hotel?”

“After admitting you love me, the hell you are! Get back on the bed, you jerk!!”

Slowly, Angel moved back to the bed, and lowered himself onto the mattress.

Cordelia looked furiously stunning. A tornado of pissy, sarcastic rage – and drop dead sexy to boot. “Right!” She said, stamping towards the sufficiently rumpled bed sheets, “This is just perfect!”

She yanked at each of the buttons, tearing one off in the process “This is just fucking PERFECT! Y’know, I always knew the ‘Seer’ gig would be difficult. Nobody bothered to warn me about this, y’know?…”

The black material floated to the floor, revealing flawlessly tanned skin. Cordelia began to work at the back string that tied around her hips and held her black pajama pants in place whilst Angel caught unneeded breath, madly aroused. Quickly, he began unbuckling his belt and getting undressed himself.

“’File this, Cordy’. ‘Answer the phones, Cordy’. ‘Be bait, get impregnated with demon spawn and have migraine after shattering migraine, Cordy’. ‘Do this Cordy.’ ‘Do that.’ ‘Pick up the dry-cleaning and don’t forget to suffer night after night of unbearable sexual tension with the ol’ boss, Cordy.’… Grr! You’re such a jerk!”

She pulled down her underwear and the pajama bottoms at the same time, exposing her full body. Before she could even hope to continue with her vitriolic rampage, she found her self swooped up in vampiric speed and pinned to the bed again.

Angel silenced her with an attack of the mouth, letting strong hands roam her warm and smooth skin in unabashed exploration.

She felt, rather than heard, the deep-throat purr as he ravaged her tongue. Angel felt it – perfect bliss. He could feel it completely for the first time, without that painful, pit-of-stomach tearing that comes with getting your soul yanked out of your body.

He studied the taste of her mouth, finally concluding that it was a faint cross between Belgian chocolate and rich brandy, which made a certain kind of sense because Cordelia always did have a predilection for the finer things in life.

Oooh, God. Sweetjesusmaryandjoseph, her body was this beautiful, solid weight beneath him; she was slowly driving him mad.

“Inside. Now.” Were the two simple words Cordelia could manage, her voice so waveringly not-calm that it sounded like she going to burst into tears at any minute. Angel knew how she felt. Months of denial and attraction and pain were folding in on themselves.

Carefully, Angel positioned himself, and with a sweet kiss on the lips, he pushed inside. The resistance eased and opened and he was in, gasping at the sensation. She was almost painfully tight inside, and Angel had to pause for a minute to take a few unnecessary breaths.

This was what Cordelia was made for. It was like fucking slick velvet. He thrust in until he was fully sheathed, gripping Cordelia’s slender hips, panting against the nape of her neck and trying to resist the urge to pound in hard.

He didn’t remember sex being this much hard work, as it was his nerve endings were fried and he honestly didn’t think he could hold off his orgasm for much longer.

He pulled out of her again, and slowly slid back in. She was so warm too. Hot and wet, and perfect.

He nuzzled into the crook of her collarbone and planted a sweet little kiss there. Did she want gentle? He could be gentle. He moved slowly, building up a subtle rhythm.

Impatiently, Cordelia rocked her hips.

Oh, right. Faster then?

Angel growled affectionately and kissed her again, hard enough to force her head back into the pillow. Cordelia moaned softly as he picked up the pace, keeping a steady rhythm that was slowly driving her insane. Already he could feel her hips moving with him, desperately guiding him to exactly the right spot where she wanted him to go.

Her hands, those same wonderfully warm hands that had been touching and caressing every solid inch of muscle that she could get her horny little hands on relinquished his body and flew her own. Quite happily she fingered her clit, her moans getting lost in one another until, a little annoyed, Angel grabbed her wrists and forced her hands back to where they had been on his body.

Oh, that did it. He was going to make her scream now.

Angel’s index finger trailed down her rib cage teasingly, and wondered onto the plane of her stomach. He let it linger there momentarily, but it reached it’s final destination and began pinching. Cordelia gasped and arched off the bed.

Arching. That was a good sign.

“Do you like that?” Angel whispered innocently against Cordelia’s ear. He rocked gently, teasing her with slow thrusts that completely negated his faux-innocence, before losing himself in the rhythm of it, the push and glide and sweat, until Cordelia was breathless, and could barely managed the words; “Now… please, now…”

“Oh Goddd.. Angel! Yesthereohohhhhhhh… OHHH!” As she came, she lost complete control of herself. She was almost feral, thrashing and begging and swearing like she was chaos theory incarnate, and Angel felt her already tight internal muscles milk him. He watched her, fascinated and uncontrollably aroused at the same time. The weight of his body held her in place as she rode out the waves of a vicious orgasm, and Angel almost lost it.

Still he moved. The growling was almost completely unconscious.

Angel felt his hips pounding into her, aching and frenzied from months of wanting and needing something he thought he could never have. He felt like something primal was taking over, but it wasn’t – not really.

What Angel could feel was the last of his resolve breaking away with every broken sentence, every stuttered confession of love and every sharp hitch of breath. It was the way she clawed at his shoulders and bit and licked beneath him, tugging his hair, pulling his lips to hers with furious, hungry kisses that made his heart hurt.

Cordelia knew how to undo him.

Below him Cordelia was moving again – more fluidly this time, as another sweeping orgasm threatened to rise up and consume her, all the time completely unaware that the part of Angel he had tried so hard to lock away was taking what little freedom it could get. His movements became like that of an animal – desperate and selfish, contained in his own little world of ecstasy.

That was his cue to let go completely, riding Cordelia roughly and practically roaring with the effort. Selfish words fell out of his mouth of their own accord: he told her she was his, his and only his. He wanted to keep it that way. No one else could touch her.

Finally, with a pain-racked “Cord-eeliaaaaaaaaa…” He came.

Or more accurately, he exploded inside of her, feeling himself being torn apart by something more explosive then love or lust, and pieced back together by the tender caress of his lover’s fingers through his hair.

Cordy talked him down through the small shocks that spiked through him as he slumped into her arms, and she whispered irrelevant words. Angel’s brain was frazzled, and for a couple of moments the words didn’t seem to make any sense, but he sure responded to that sweet tone of voice. She sounded so loving that his heart began to melt all over again.

As quickly as it had blurred, the world came back into focus. Angel lifted his head and teasingly nipped at Cordelia’s shoulder with blunt teeth. She giggled, provoking a bigger smile from the man in her arms.

“Hello.” He said simply, and rolled over next to Cordy so he could gather her up in his arms and filch her body heat. She willingly obliged, entangling her legs with his and snuggling into a broad shoulder, far too sleepy to argue.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.” Lovingly, Angel began to stroke Cordelia’s hair and wrap small brown strands around his fingers, marvelling at the smoothness of it. “I’m never, ever going to lie to you again.”

“Good.” She muttered, “Because I’d hate to have to kick your ass.”

He chuckled. It was almost dawn, and they were both exhausted. Angel decided to let her have the last word for once.

The End

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