Title: Flurry
Author: Scorch
Posted: Jan (?) 2007
Email
Rating: NC-18
Category: PWP
Content: C/A all the way
Summary: A continuation of sorts from Falling. A continuation of sorts, to Falling.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: AO, FSB, Cal & Lea’s places.
Notes: I was gonna make this into a mini series, but since my net hours are extremely limited, I‘ve decided to make it so it can be read as a series of standalones. Enjoy!
Happy New Year, People. May 2007 bring all that you deserve and more. Hugs, S xxxx
Thanks/Dedication:
Feedback: always lovely!
He missed his car. Really missed it. Missed the leather seats, missed the purring engine, missed the comfortable head rest, missed how the gear stick seemed to perfectly fit his hand. Missed the orange furry dice, which mysteriously appeared last week, that irritatingly dangled from the rear view mirror.
He refused to like the four wheel drive monster he was currently in. It’d feel too much like cheating and if there was one thing he would never do to his baby, it was cheat on her. While she was tucked up, safe and sound back in Los Angeles, he was out in the wild, controlling a beast of a machine that made his baby look like a kitten.
For the record, his baby was no kitten. His baby was a Plymouth, a classic, and so much more satisfying to drive than the monstrosity. The thing he was in didn’t purr, it grunted. A loud, vibrating grunt that went right through him and grated on each and every nerve. An attitude is what it had. An obnoxious attitude only found in grumpy old men who bemoaned the state of the world and it’s prices.
Still, it did do it’s duty and he had to admit the duty was done most admirably.
The headlights were good, giving at least five to six feet of sight, which definitely wasn’t bad considering the conditions of the night. The snow was nothing to the heavy duty tyres. No doubt about it. The Landrover did the business when it came this.
Despite the road being free of traffic, he still checked the rear view mirror just in case. It was delightfully clear. All he could see was snow and sleet covering the road, the fog lights making it look grey. It’d been so many years since he’d seen snow during the day. He remembered it being prettier, not as dull and watery.
He rubbed his face free of tired boredom. He loved driving, but it got incredibly monotonous after a few hours. Eyes always focused yet trying to check a dozen things at once. It had a tendency to leave one a tad drained. His eye lids were heavy and sore, but he gallantly kept them open.
Wouldn’t do to kill them both before they got to open the presents. Speaking of presents.
She was going to adore her gift. Weeks of searching had finally paid off when he found a little shop full of collectables. He’d been truly amazed at some of the stuff in there. They sold everything from marbles and snow globes right down to pens and figurines. More importantly, they sold what he’d been looking for.
A whole selection of glass animals, including a replacement giraffe for the one he broke. The tiny statues were perfectly carved and the detail simply beautiful. True works of art. He often wondered at her fondness for glass mammals. Must be a girl thing.
Angel wondered where she was going to put them. Probably far from his clumsy hands. He hoped, anyway. Couldn’t afford to keep replacing them. Mainly, he couldn’t afford to keep hiding the remains.
Cordelia undoubtedly knew, of course. Sweet of her not to say anything, but that could be down to the sly, sneaky replacing of new ones.
He glanced up into the mirror, smiling a little at the sight of her curled up on the back seat. Legs covered by a few blankets, hair kept back by a soft band, and head supported by a small pillow. She’d been like that for the better part of two hours now, and he’d give ten to fifteen minutes before she woke up in a cramp.
She’d been warned about that, but she didn’t listen. Deciding instead to ignore the offer of a quick stop to stretch and going straight to sleep. Couldn’t blame her. She’d done the driving until a time when he could take over. Copious amounts of coffee helped keep her awake, she had said with a grin.
Yeah. That and a radio station which played God awful songs for hours on end.
He smirked. No wonder the monster vehicle had such a stinking attitude. How many others had made it suffer that noise? He didn’t like to think.
A breath pierced the silence. A loud, airy sigh signalling she was waking up. About time. Any longer and he wouldn’t hear the end of it. He didn’t speak right away, giving her time enough to pull her pretty little self round. Call it his good deed for the day.
Her hand fought against the blankets, pushing them down and fully away from her face, allowing him to see the sweet rosy hue to her face. It was strange how her cheeks seemed more rounded, fuller even, after sleep. Whatever caused it, he liked it.
“What time is it?” She asked, her voice barely heard over the continuous grunting.
“A little before nine. Nice nap?”
Blankets were moved and messily dumped next to her, legs slid over the seat and toes wiggled out their kinks. “Are we nearly there yet, and yes. Lovely.” Not. Her calf muscles were complaining to high heaven, her back felt like corrugated iron, while the ponytail was now giving her a headache. Please, let them be nearly there.
Cordelia shifted forward a little, but not so quickly she missed him rearranging the rear view mirror. Hazel eyes followed the direction of his line of sight, rolling when it was a nigh on perfect view of her legs. She should call him on it, but didn’t.
No fun in that.
Pale knuckles turned white when those legs opened enough for him to see a slice of tanned thigh and a glimpse of simple cotton panties. White meant a lot to him. It was his favourite colour on her.
Purity, innocence, beautiful lingerie. Hospital walls and sterile cleanliness.
Didn’t have cause for panic no more. A dead lawyer and strong warning for the firm testified to that. If so much as a single hair on her head was out of place, he wouldn’t be a happy puppy.
That age old saying sprung to mind. Be careful of what you wish for, you might get it. They wanted him dark and that’s what they got, and it was funny. Funny how they were now looking to make him the boy scout he once was.
Funnier still had been the look on their faces when that axe had landed squarely in the boy’s head. Bullseye.
After all they’d done for him, it felt nice to give something back. If he could protect her at the same time, well, two birds and one stone came to mind.
As for his seer, she was okay. Not as fine as he’d like her to be, but she was alive and that was the main thing. This little getaway was just what the doctor ordered. A bit something put her sweet self right again.
“Nowhere near.” It was lie. Another three quarters to an hour and they’d be at their destination. Huh. Maybe it wasn’t such a lie after all.
A charming place out in the middle of nowhere was where he was taking her for Christmas. Far away from big city lights, from traffic, and more importantly, far away from people. It was tiring having to share her with everyone else. He was tired of having to wait until they were alone before he could live up to his promises.
Sweet nothings were all well and good, but they were only words.
I love you. I hate you. I need you. I want you.
All meaningless without actions to back them up.
Angel liked to keep his word, liked to back them up with appropriate actions. He wanted to keep the words he said when he said them, not hours later when the hotel was dark and empty.
Secrecy was a must. Who knew what would happen if anyone knew what went on behind closed doors. It was preferred. No-one to interfere and no-one to care about but themselves. So strange it was, what they had.
Was it a relationship or more?
He had no idea what they were. Boyfriend and girlfriend didn’t cover it. Lover was too impersonal. Friends with benefits didn’t come close. Vampire and human just made him chuckle, while ball and chain would get him a solid punch to the groin.
Didn’t seem to be a word describing what they were.
Maybe there didn’t need to be a word. Maybe they just were, and maybe there was no maybe about it. Didn’t matter, not in the grand scheme of things. Didn’t matter when her legs were wide open like that.
There’d be no trouble pulling over so he could put his face right between those legs of hers. No trouble at all.
God, he could see his hand prints on her thighs. Thick, red marks the exact size of his fingers stained her tan.
She’d gotten it good at the last gas station. His fingers itched, his flesh remembered heat and sweat and orgasm. The wall had been rough and cold and uncomfortable. He’d loved it, loved hearing the choked whimpers, loved seeing the tiny speck of blood from a bitten lip as she tried to keep it down.
Screwing her that way, in a place where anyone could see, had set him off. Coming that much, that quickly, had hurt. Then he’d had to watch her fingers slide into her mouth, her tongue licking up creamy droplets.
It would have been so easy to do it all again. Spread that gorgeous pussy she owned right back open and put her on overflow, but nah. He had the whole week to go. Wouldn’t do to give her everything all at once.
He’d watched her stumble back to the Landrover after that, his eyes going straight to the ass hidden behind a cute white tennis skirt. She’d be pissed when she saw the state of it. Not new, but never worn she said. Bought it when she was on a fitness kick a while ago.
The same skirt now pulled tight around parted thighs. Pulled so tight the soft fabric almost transparent. Her nail shade didn’t shine in the dark vehicle, but he could still see slender digits slowly tugging the skirt further up.
She looked so good playing the tease.
“Slow down while I climb up there.”
He eased up on the accelerator and the other down on the brake, his male ego gaining a boost from just how quickly he’d tamed the beast. Didn’t matter she’d tamed it first. He’d just simply ignore that fact.
Cute socks, he thought as one tiny foot carefully balanced on the passenger seat. Seconds was all it took before she was there, smiling at the triumphant shift to shotgun.
She touched his hand and pulled back with a shocked hiss. “God Angel, you’re freezing. Here.” Then she was rubbing his arm in an effort to warm him up.
He cracked a smile. “I’m a vampire, Cor.”
Hazel eyes widened dramatically, her healing palm now against her heart. “No! Really?”
The sarcastic comment went ignored. “Cold is what I am.”
Yeah well, she didn’t agree. She made that known with a shake of her head. “Not cold,” was the insistent response. “You’re just not warm.”
Angel shrugged. “Warmth is superficial.” Warmth didn’t make a human special and nor was warmth the reason for attraction.
She huffed. “If that’s how you feel about it…” There was no move to replace her hand on his arm.
A dark eyebrow arched and a sideways glance was sent her way. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”
Victory came in the form of a smug smirk as her warm palm resumed the rapid friction on his left arm. He wondered how long she’d be able to keep at it before she got bored or annoyed it wasn’t working.
She should know the only things to make him warm was full body contact, including sex, and hot water. Still, he didn’t have the heart to remind her of that. Not when she seemed so focused on her little task.
“Are we nearly there yet?” That hand slid down and kept going until her fingers softly tickled his. Her smile, those eyes, the light stroking of nails could only mean one thing.
Bitch was playing with him.
“No.” There was a long way to go before she got a reaction.
“Oh.” Feigned disappointment clouded hazel irises.
Cordelia twisted around in the seat to fully face him and saw the mild irritation on his face. Poor little vampire. He must have been so bored, sat up here without her to keep him company. The visible tiredness didn’t sit right with her. Road trips were supposed to be fun and games, not a chore.
As usual, it was up to her to provide the smiles.
Her hand went from his hand to his stomach, nails scratching through the soft woollen sweater. “How about now?”
Angel just knew this was going to be fun. “No.” Not to worry, he thought, they had plenty of time.
Slender fingers slid up past his chest to his neck and jaw line, those perfectly shaped nails circled his Adam’s apple. She discovered a week or so ago exactly how sensitive his throat was. It certainly put her on home advantage. “Now?”
He smirked. That felt so damn nice, it was all he could do to not lean into it. Wouldn’t do to give her more ammunition against him. “No.”
Hm. He could be a tough nut to crack at times. Time to play dirty.
Those fingers went up to play with his hair, the soft spikes tickled, making her skin feel all tingly. She ran her hand through his hair once, scraping her nails down the nape of his neck, and kept going until she was right back at his stomach.
The sweater was lifted and he shivered a little at the small whisper of cool air. She touched him gently, drawing patterns and circles around his navel, watching the way abdominal muscles flexed in response.
“Now?” The question came with a cheeky smile and a flash of tongue.
“No.”
She was bent at the waist, replacing fingers with her lips. Soft, dry kisses went from his belly button to his left side, blunt teeth lightly nibbled on solid muscle before biting down and hard.
A hiss was her reward.
He had a thing for biting, she noticed. Often coming up behind her, nuzzling her throat, fangs scraping over her skin, a cool tongue lapping up the dual lines of blood. He’d never bitten her, though, and she wondered why.
She made a joke about it once. Huffing about her blood not being good enough for the infamous Scourge. His reply had been so dry, so sarcastic, that she’d sniggered for days after. Apparently, once you’ve had European, you never went back.
Of course he’d toyed with her, that had been expected, but what she hadn’t expected was utter terror that came with the territory of being toyed with by an experienced vampire.
It’d been a normal night. A few stars around a pretty crescent moon, hustle and bustle of city life, the stench of gas from cars. An ordinary night in Los Angeles. She’d been out and about, combining window shopping with the occasional low fat latte when it happened.
One minute she was walking out of her favourite shop and the next she was being dragged down an ally, a large hand over her mouth. Scream, he’d said, scream for me sweet, his voice instantly recognisable. The adrenalin, the feel of his cock against her stomach, the dirty orders all worked to get her excited.
All she remembered after that were hard kisses, her panties being lowered, and being screwed right there in the ally. There’d been no loving hugs or soothing kisses. He’d simply let her fall to the ground in a daze, staring down at her with smug satisfaction on his face. Two words were spoken before he walked away, leaving her there.
Good enough.
Cordelia glanced up at him. Eyes dark and focused on the road, his jaw tight with tension. “Are we nearly there yet?”
“Not even close.” Bastard.
Time to play really dirty.
She straightened, ignoring the annoyed glare he sent her way. Both hands went to her inner thighs and she raised her skirt, fingers pressing hard into her skin and harder still on her clit. She tugged them up, moving the fabric in way that rubbed perfectly against her. The cotton of her panties felt rough as they slid over the sensitive flesh in just the right way.
Too damn cruel.
“How bout now?”
Angel refused to look at the bitch next to him. “No.”
Those pretty white panties were eased over her hips and the air was suddenly filled with the scent of her spicy pussy. “Now?”
God yes. “Nowhere near.” He gripped the wheel harder, grimacing when he felt it bend under the force. There went the deposit.
Damn him. She moved closer to him, narrowed eyes full of mischief. Soft cotton fluttered against his face and gave him no choice but to experience exactly how good she smelled.
Her panties stroked his cheek, then his lips, and he deeply inhaled, exhaling in a low groan. How fucking delicious she was.
She didn’t stop there. Her hand went lower and lower still, until the cool metal of his zipper met fingers. She smiled oh so innocently as she pulled it down, beyond pleased to find him nice and erect. Her tongue and mouth itched to lick and suck him. “Are we nearly there yet?”
Despite evidence to the contrary, “No.” He wished she’d give it up and get on with it, but hell. He was in her hands for a change.
Now that was just a challenge.
Cordelia got that bit closer, close enough for her nose to rub against his shoulder. The sweater was a good choice. It was warm and cosy and his scent seemed to cling to it. Lovely.
Slender digits curled round his cock in a way that made him jump. Hot cotton and hotter skin slid down his shaft, and he knew without looking she was licking her lips, wanting him to tell her what to do.
Not today.
Today, his darling little seer was going to have her way with him. At least until he decided otherwise.
“Nearly there?” Her hand moved once. Fingers tightening round the base, the soft elastic creating a textured friction on his shaft, almost causing him to end the game.
“No.” Yes. “Not yet.”
An elegant eyebrow arched. “No?” She eased down inside his pants and touched his balls, innocently smiling when his eyes glazed over. Oh yeah, she was getting somewhere.
A harsh grip forced his head back, his face showed nothing but the pain that came with good pleasure. It was a struggle to keep his eyes on the road. “No. Not yet. Not yet.”
Cordelia’s eyes followed her panties as her hand went up, then down, and up, her thumb brushed the sensitive tip, coating her skin with precum. She let go and he was too slow to stop her.
She brought the creamed digit to her mouth and made him watch while she took a quick sip. Couldn’t wait until she could properly drink him down. All that hardness sliding back and forth between her lips. She wanted to suck and lick and eat till she was full.
He was pale and cool, dark hair decorated the base. His scent was everything yum. All musky and male, kind of like sandalwood and wood chips. Warm, she decided, he smelled like warmth, and he tasted divine.
He fumbled with his belt, sliding down to hold his balls, strong fingers flexing round the sensitised flesh, grunting out when a jolt of pleasure went straight to the tip of his cock. “No. Not there. Not there.”
Her smile went unseen. Not there, huh? She went down again, her teeth scraped over the smooth shaft and tongue rimmed the round head. His hips jerked and mouth spouted lie after lie after lie.
“Not there, not there, not there. God, not there.”
Nope. Definitely not there.
Cordelia sighed around him, then giggled, and giggled some more when he reacted to the vibrations. She pulled away, hazel eyes batting innocently. “Guess we have a ways to go. Maybe I should go back to sleep.” She couldn’t stop licking her lips. That taste of his was addictive.
Yeah, she could go back to sleep. Over his scattered ashes.
Her playtime was done, now it was his turn. His hand left his balls to tangle in her ponytail, the messy chestnut strands so pretty against his pale skin. Her head dragged close to his face, letting her see the brown melting to a perfect shade of gold.
“Do it, Cordelia.” Angel’s smile was sick, twisted, turning a simple blow job into something much more dirty. “Suck my dick.”
Then she was doing it. Her tongue and lips working him over and over. It was sweet at first. Nice and soft and gentle. Wrapping him up in wet heat, following his shaft up and down, her mouth tracing every little ridge.
He could feel her breathing. Inhaling through her nose and purposely exhaling through her mouth just to tease him that bit more.
Bitchbitchbitch. He was gonna hurt her. Slam her down, face first, pull her legs wide and make the bitch take it hard. She should know better than to tease him like this. Hadn’t she learned her lesson yet? Apparently not.
That hand of his remained on her head, pushing her down and pulling her up when he wanted it. The more she sucked, the wetter she got, and he could see how her thigh moved slightly, putting pressure on her juicy little clit. Simply said, she was begging to be screwed.
Well, that was just too damn bad. She could wait for that.
She moaned around the hard shaft and her fingers squeezed him tight, eyes fluttered and cheeks hollowed out, lips working up as tongue slid down. Oh, that was good. It was so fucking good.
He hardly heard her over deep grunts and light moans. “Nearly there, Angel?” Her throat was parched, desperate to taste, lips tickled from the dark hair.
“Close baby. Really close.” Christ, driving and oral sex didn’t mix. He was getting a spectacular blow job, what did he care if they crashed?
It was easy to ignore the ache in her jaw and tingles in her lips. It was easy to ignore the frustrated grunt when she pressed a contrasting chaste kiss to his cock. Cordelia peeked up at him, her tongue painted with precum. “How close?”
Angel had enough time to slam on the brakes before he took over where she left off. His shaft was nicely lubricated, aroused to the point where girth filled his own hand. “This close.”
Then she was there.
“Good. That’s good, baby. C’mon.” A little more and he’d be, fuck, he’d be coming. God. Pulses and vibrations and pain shot through him as his hips pushed up high, keeping it, teasing her. “That’s right. All for you, Cordelia. All this just for you.”
He watched, unable to look away, as those bruised and swollen lips turned white, her tongue lapping and catching what she could. Her hot mouth was now cooling and the temperature change sent a sweet shiver down his spine as she sucked him right back in. He heard the sounds she made, felt her swallowing and sucking until he was completely empty and soft.
Nothing better than seeing her go down on him. Of course, there was him going down on her, but that was for later, or maybe tomorrow. Depending on his generosity.
She was humming now, a sound full of pure satisfaction. Her nose nuzzling him, inhaling, her tongue still tasting. She stared up at him, Bambi eyes all glassy and fluttery.
So pretty and so sweet. What the hell was she doing with a bastard like him?
“You liked that.” Wasn’t a question. Angel stroked stray damp strands away from her face, just so he could see her.
Cordelia smiled. “Candy good.” Her cheek smoothed over the rumpled fabric of his pants, the wrinkles leaving red marks in her skin. Didn’t matter, not when her lips were thick with cream.
“I want you to play,” Angel said.
Didn’t that just make for a lot of fun?
“Yeah?” She sat back, one foot balanced on the glove compartment, and the other relaxed. “Like this?”
Stray drops of come were caught on small fingers and he watched as those fingers rubbed that cream deep into her pussy, making pink lips shine like pearls. She pulled her cunt wide, letting him see just what the blow job had done to her. She was swollen and shining and so damn needy, he could feel it.
“We have…” He glanced at the green digital clock. “Twenty minutes left. Those twenty minutes will be silent. No moaning, whimpering, pleading, begging, grunting, groaning, hissing, and no climaxing. Understand?”
Each word he spoke had her temperature rising. “I want you all warmed up and ready for me.”
Cordelia gave a small nod, purposely slowing her fingers down. If she didn’t, that last order would be disobeyed. “Okay.”
“When we get there,” Angel continued as he eased his foot down on the accelerator. “I want you to go straight to bed and spread those legs, keep playing till I get there.”
“Yeah. Promise.” She swallowed, forced her eyes to stay focused on his face. “Promise to keep playing. Legs open. Won’t come. Promise I won’t come.”
Promises, promises. He treated her to a simple little kiss on the cheek. “Good girl. And these?” Her panties fluttered against her hand. “Are mine.”
Irresistible. “Won’t they be a little tight?”
His chuckle lacked humour. “Just can’t keep it shut, can you? Maybe I should tie you up, gag you. Make it so you can’t scream. I can make you scream, Cordelia. Don’t forget that.”
With those eyes staring at her, she never could.
~*~