EPILOGUE
Angel stood outside Cordelia’s apartment and composed himself. After four months it was a ritual. First he’d raise his hand to knock and then drop it with a sigh. Realising how tense he was he’d shrug his shoulders to loosen tight muscles, sigh again and finally run a hand over his hair and down his shirt. Then sucking a breath, he’d rap his knuckles on the door.
He wondered if tonight, Cordelia would get there first, or if Dennis would be the one to answer his knock. As usual that thought led to another and Angel’s efforts to relax failed. His ‘courtship’ of Cordelia was being done under the beady eyes of Wesley and Dennis, her ghost. So, the way he figured it, he was allowed to feel some tension and aggravation.
On the few nights they did manage to carve a time-out from death and mayhem, he made sure they went out. Blockbuster movies or old classics and sometimes the theatre- as long as it wasn’t too high-brow. When she got tired of being inside, they’d take leisurely drives out of the city with the Plymouth’s top down, or stroll along the beach and just talk. For a girl who once gave off the impression that she needed to be constantly entertained, Cordelia could be surprising introspective; yet another facet of her to love and be intrigued by.
Angel’s favourite was when he was able to lure her away from the trendy night-clubs to somewhere just a little smokier and a whole lot slower. There he could hold her in his arms while they danced. Crowds would fade to just the two of them and when he looked into her eyes he could see trust spreading its wings again. Instinct told him that was when he made his biggest inroads in convincing Cordelia he loved her.
Then she opened the door and all of that flew out of his head. Angel struggled not to gape. He’d seen her in every type of feminine apparel and appreciated all of them. Now, the top blew right off his head and he was proud to manage a croaked, “Hi.”
“Hey, Angel” she said with that big smile, “Come in.”
The skirt of the white dress flirted with her knees as she stepped back and gestured him to enter. He swallowed, accepted and tried not to be too obvious with his staring. The dress didn’t cling and the cleavage was almost virginal, but the cut was pure artistry as if conjured up deliberately to tease and tantalise. The waist was fitted to reveal the flare of her hips and Angel had to close his fists to resist the urge to shape them with his palms.
“You look…beautiful,” he said simply. The blaze of pleased satisfaction in hazel depths forestalled his groan of disgust at that lame compliment.
“Thanks” Cordelia said brightly, “You’re looking pretty hot yourself.” Slowly and with complete assurance, she let her eyes wander over his best pants and the new silk shirt she’d gifted him with.
The gleam of appreciation that replaced satisfaction in hazel eyes, hinted at why his words hadn’t really been necessary either. Hand on hips, Cordy gave a self-congratulatory nod, “I knew that colour would look good on you.”
The silk had been dyed to the darkest blue and was so rich it begged to be stroked. Rather than be so obvious, she stepped up and pretended to smooth his collar. When her fingers lingered, Angel didn’t mind in the least. This close her bottom lip plumped out just a little from the upper one and her scent had his eyelids dropping; turning heavy-lidded with desire.
Knowing it was too early in the evening. Angel stepped back to hide his body’s response, and picking up her hand from his shoulder, kissed it softly to distract her from that necessary distance. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.
Her reaction surprised him, revealing nerves that he hadn’t seen since they’d begun dating properly. Backing away, Cordelia tucked her hair behind her ears, went to speak and then puffed out a breath instead. About to ask what was wrong, she got in there first and spoke in a rush, “Would you mind if we stayed in tonight?”
Relieved it was only that, Angel cast a glance around. “Here?”
She knew his problem with staying in her apartment. Holding up a stalling hand, she said, “I’ve made a deal with Dennis. He’s going to stay in the kitchen with the TV pulled over into the corner. He’ll be entertained and we’ll have privacy, I promise.”
“Oh, okay.”Dennis on a TV leash? he thought, Why am I not reassured? Dennis still hadn’t got over Angel upsetting Cordelia, and liked to make that clear every now and then. Deeply sceptical, Angel shrugged out of his jacket and forced a smile, “Sure.”
Her relief was palpable, “Great,” she said, “Toss your coat over there and follow me”.
Coat tossed, she took his hand and led him around the corner. She’d been busy he saw. The couch and side table had been pushed far out of the way. In the very corner was a patio table, covered in spotless white linen and laid with two plates, silver cutlery that gleamed and a matching pair of crystal wine glasses.
In the middle of the snowy cloth, an array of dishes held light nibbles perfect for a vampire’s palate. Tiny slices of rich cheese, salmon cakes the size of a coin, savoury biscuits decorated with pâté and slices of tomato and more. Not much of each and none so filling he’d be left out while she ate.
“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said, feeling her anxious gaze watching for his reaction. Squeezing her hand in his, Angel met Cordelia’s gaze searchingly and wondered again what could be making her so nervous. “It looks great,” he reassured.
“Not so much trouble and I enjoyed it,” she grinned and pulled away, “I’ll pick the music while you pour the wine. The bottles are next to the candles on the window ledge.”
“I see them,” he said and walking over picked up the red. She’d learned his preferences and picked his favourite. He gave her a pleased smile that she missed, busy flipping through CD’s. The cork had already been removed to let the wine breathe leaving Angel to watch Cordelia fuss over the stereo while he poured.
“Do you want red or white?” he asked, dragging his admiring gaze off slim calves made endless by strappy silver sandals.
“White. If I spill red on this dress, I’ll cry.” As she spoke, music flooded the room. Moody and unobtrusive it was the perfect choice to provide atmosphere and allow for conversation.
Looking at his own glass full of burgundy liquid, Angel was about to pour it back in favour of not risking that under any circumstances, when a hand covered the glass and stopped him, “I’m only kidding, Angel,” Cordelia said amused, “But I’ll still have the white.”
***
With the lights down low and the trio of candles providing a soft glow from the window, they talked. The conversation flowed lightly, desultory even between sips of wine and Cordelia coaxing him to eat a little. They talked about work, with Cordelia being Cordelia and providing lightening insights into client’s peccadillo’s whether they were demon or human. In between, she levelled teasing digs at him and watched through her lashes for his reaction, the quirk of her lips daring him to deny her.
Angel had long ago accepted he couldn’t deny her much and gave her the reaction she wanted. She laughed and he smiled or chuckled every now and then. Enthralled, Angel forgot about Dennis and simply drank her in. Sat opposite a human he was deeply in love with; with her overprotective ghost only a room away, Angel couldn’t remember ever being so relaxed and wound up at the same time. He wanted to sit here and listen to her for as long as he could, while at the same time he wanted to pull her up off the chair, lift her in his arms and carry her to bed and then kiss her all over.
That wasn’t the only thing confusing him. Underneath the banter and laughter, she was still nervous. The pulse in her neck fluttered, both cheeks were flushed and underneath soft and fragrant skin her blood raced a fraction too fast. Angel didn’t blame any of those reactions for his tension though. No, that honour went to the hint of spicy female arousal that hovered between them.
Certain that if he let his thoughts travel too far down that path, he’d do something dumb, Angel wrestled grimly with his libido and won. No hint of his struggle showed on his face.
Until Cordelia put down her glass and held out a hand. “Let’s dance,” she said.
***
It was the look on his face that nearly got Cordelia. The giggle rose up in bubbles of laughter that she only just managed to choke back. The music had changed to something less background-y and more dance-y. Still slow but with throaty lyrics that suggested languid heat, lapping water and slow sinuous moves entwined with a lover.
“C’mon, Angel” she cajoled and fluttered her fingers, “I want to dance. Dance with me.”
Back when they’d begun dating again Angel had surprised her. She’d been convinced nothing short of a stake to his heart would persuade him to dance, and if he ever did it would be painfully hysterical to watch. She’d been wrong, or at least she’d been wrong about the kind of dancing that thanks to him she was now hooked on. There were no techno beats for this vampire of hers. Slow dancing that brought up thoughts of bayous and rumpled sheets was more his style.
Strong cool fingers slid across her palm and then gently gripped. Meeting his gaze across the table, she saw the flicker of something a teensy bit uncivilised in those onyx depths and recognised repressed desire. He wasn’t the easiest guy to read, this vampire of hers, but she was getting there. The dim lighting created shadows that patterned his handsome face, creating valleys where the slopes of his cheeks dipped before meeting that stubborn jaw. Full yet masculine lips held an unconsciously sensual curve.
Needing more oxygen for some reason, Cordelia sucked in a breath. When they rose her heart fluttered and belly flip-flopped with a mixture of nerves, desire and anticipation.
Cordelia had planned this down to what she hoped was the last tiny detail. With everything pushed back, she’d created enough space for the two of them to dance. After more than a few nights spent doing this they came together in a perfect fit; without any fumbling or missed steps.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked him, head tipped back so that her hair fell in a waterfall down her back, just touching his clasping hands at her waist.
Above her those sculpted lips curved while warm brown eyes gave Angel’s answer before he even spoke, “Very much,” he said in a deep velvet voice, “You?”
“Me too,” she sighed and brought her lips to within a whisper of his, “Thanks for agreeing to stay here.” She thought better of bringing up Dennis.
After a brief teasing brush kiss later and Angel’s, “My pleasure,” rumbled next to her ear as her arms tightened around his neck and they began to move together.
The music swelled and throbbed around them. Mournful notes melted into blissful brushes of her against him and him against her. Sinking into a familiar blissful daze, Cordelia admitted she loved how big he was. This close the primal thrill of being sheltered against a powerful and undeniably aroused male body was exciting. More, knowing how sensitive Angel was, and that his self-control was being pushed to the limit only added to that excitement.
During low moments, Cordelia would tell herself falling in love with him was the dumbest thing she’d ever done. But she was also honest enough to admit it was too late. She already was in love with him and while his contrasts drove her nuts, they were also what kept her on her toes. Angel had some great qualities; such as being a gentleman most of the time, a hero who wanted nothing more than to save people, and he genuinely wanted to do the right thing.
But then there that other side to him. A side that was a little mean and unprincipled and Cordelia didn’t kid herself that it was all his demon’s fault. If something got in his way, he’d do whatever it took to move it, or go around it and those times when he ignored pesky morals were just added to his brood list. So, Angel was far from perfect. A fact which suited her fine. Who wanted perfection? Knowing he needed reining in every now and then was a plus and as far as Cordelia wasn’t concerned, she was the only woman for the job.
Angel must have sensed her distraction, jostling her to get her attention he asked, “What are you thinking?”
Caught out, Cordelia was sheepish, “You don’t want to know,” she said; then changed her mind, “It’s not important. Forget it.” Going on tiptoe she kissed him as a distraction and managed to distract them both in very short order.
On other nights and surrounded by other people, those times when the hard bulge of his erection had brushed against her had been ignored by both of them, keeping the thrum of lust within sensible limits. Tonight was going to different she’d decided. Now Cordelia sought it out rather than avoided. As the heat inside grew until her mind turned hazy, she undulated her hips so that a careless brush became a long caressing rub.
The thing was she aroused herself, too. I want you trembled on her tongue. Instead of speaking and risking dispelling the growing shimmers of awareness with careless words, she nuzzled into his neck and feeling reckless, suckled on the strong cord she found there.
It was the most sexually explicit thing she’d done since before the night Anton Silverous died. Angel’s low groan raised goose-bumps across every inch of skin. Then thickly muscled arms pulled her in tighter and clothing became a necessary barrier as their loins ground together. Inside, everything that was female leapt with a zing of pure lust.
As predictable as dawn, the sensuous movements of their bodies turned mindless; an instinctive reaction to music meant to provoke and entice lovemaking. It wasn’t long before Angel was swallowing her pants with sweeping kisses that blew her mind. Moulded together, neither spoke a word about how far this was going and if it was a conspiracy, they were in it together. As the music swelled the throb of it wrought an identical one between her thighs.
Sometime later, Angel turned her so that her back was to him and they carried on dancing. Legs shaking with a growing languid tension, Cordelia leant back as his hands skimmed up from her hips to her ribs; then was forced to bite her lip as his thumb brushed along the underside of one breast. Oh God! The tip already tightly budded ached to be fondled.
Before Cordelia could work up to a demand that he touch her, Angel brushed aside her hair and caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth, biting down enough to cause a tiny sting. She couldn’t suppress a moan. “What do you want tonight, Cordy?” he asked in a voice that was both deeper and a little rougher than normal.
This was it the pivotal moment. She’d got over his lies and he’d convinced her it wouldn’t happen again. The one time since when he might have lied, he’d simply told her she wasn’t to know and clammed up. Okay, it drove her crazy when he acted so frikkin’ arbitrary, but it was a world away from being lied to.
Back in the present, his erection was butted firmly into the crease of her bottom. Behind her, Cordelia’s fingers found and gripped his thighs as the shakes got stronger and heavier, pulling her down. “I love you,” she said, going still, “Do you love me?”
Angel went still, too. “Yes, I do.”
Licking dry lips, Cordelia turned her head to see his face. Swallowing hard, she made a leap of faith, “Make love to me, Angel.”
She half expected him to ask was she sure. He didn’t and she obviously wasn’t going to have to ask twice. Turning her again, Angel took her lips in a sweetly devouring kiss. Head swimming from the passion that rose unchecked between them, Cordelia was only dimly aware of the zipper of her dress being lowered.
It was the waft of cool air along her back brought her out of her daze. Reacting to the moment, Cordelia tried to pull back and cross her arms over her ribs. She’d known it would happen, but now she was stricken with the knowledge that this time he would see her scars. What if he was freaked and couldn’t hide it. She’d be devastated.
Angel wouldn’t let her hide herself. Strong hands lifted her up so high and so startlingly fast that Cordelia instinctively grabbed his head. Her gasp wasn’t anything to do with being startled though, and everything to do with cool lips kissing a trail along the vivid pink that travelled from breastbone to belly.
“You don’t ever have to be ashamed or hide them from me,” he said against her belly. Tears stung and then filmed her eyes. ogodogodogod. Don’t cry. Angel lifted his head and gazed solemnly up at her, “Every warrior has scars,” he told her.
Marvelling that his arms weren’t trembling even the tiniest bit, her mouth wobbled into a smile, “Oh yeah, where are yours, smarty pants?”
“They were on the inside.”
Were? He’d said were…
“What do yo-“ lowered enough to be devoured with a kiss, Angel distracted her that easily and the next thing Cordelia knew was the cool slide of fresh sheets under her back.
Skilfully kissed while her bra and panties were removed, Cordelia sensed his growing desire push against those self-imposed restraints and trembled as her own racked up several notches. When she began to undo the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel his naked body under her hands, too, he swept her aside and finished the task without fuss.
The shirt was tossed aside. “Just lie back for now,” he told her, “And let me love you.”
It was the way he said it, requesting and demanding at the same time that had her considering it.
“Okay, this time…but next time is my turn”.
Having said that the play of heavy muscle on Angel’s chest and arms was hard to resist and she almost changed her mind. He was a landscape of smooth, hard ridges and valleys and when he sat up to unbuckle his belt, Cordelia’s eyes were drawn to the visible bulge at the juncture of his thighs. From memory she knew he was equally as impressive there, too.
The next however long passed in a blur and there was no comparison with their last frantic mating. Angel kissed her all over, caressing every inch of her body with his mouth, hands and fingers. There was no part left unmapped by skating, skimming and sliding fingers, nipping teeth and a delving tongue. The backs of her knees; the curve of her shoulder, the valley between her breast, the dip of her waist and the backs of her thighs all the way up to the cheeks of her bottom were lavished with male appreciation and reverent attention.
Then he started again. Shaping her to his wants and imprisoning her hands when she rebelled against his no-touching him rule. Cordelia, willingly lost in a world made up of only this bed and her demon lover, felt utterly worshipped and loved. Finally, Angel obliterated every remaining inhibition under the searing heat of one orgasm.
Buffeted by a building storm of pleasure, Cordelia bucked against his tormenting mouth and screamed his name as she came apart. Then still cresting, she gasped when he filled her with one hard thrust. As if appeased by being inside her now, Angel abruptly stilled.
Braced on his arms so he hung over, he demanded hoarsely, “Look at me,” and when she did, he said, “I love you.”
Cordelia’s breath hitched, “I love you, too.”
Satisfied, Angel began to pump lazily with smooth flexes of his hips, “Say it again.”
***
Cordelia released him with soft popping sound. Still straddling his quivering thighs, she nuzzled the velvety skin of Angel’s abdomen and skimmed the ridges of muscle with the tip of her tongue. The taste of herself and him tingled on her tongue. They may have both come twice now, but she wanted more.
Sitting up to survey him, she grinned lazily and hazel eyes gleamed with joyful power. Glazed brown eyes met her gaze and she cocked her head, “Have I mentioned you’re gorgeous and hot and I could…do this all night?”
Angel’s mouth curved in a rueful grin, “I’ve created a monster, and no, you hadn’t.”
Leaning down to nibble at a pale pink nipple, she asked, “Are you up for it.”
“Check for yourself.”
He tasted of salt with a hint of soap. “Hmmm, okay,” she agreed and travelled to its twin as she slid up his body until her damp centre settled over his reawakening erection.
Giving a pleased hum, Cordelia began to rock herself against him, pleasuring them both as she kissed her way to his neck. When she eventually got up to his chin and mouth, it was already open and she plunged softly inside.
***
Dropping the hands that had been busy kneading her breast to clasp her bottom, Angel suckled her tongue and lifted the velvety cheeks so that he could slide into her. She was so slick and tight his balls tightened and every super-sensitive nerve in his body screamed with the urge to hammer hard. He didn’t though.
She was everything he could want; strong, brave and every bit as beautiful on the inside as on the outside, but she was also human, and having already had two orgasms her tissues would be just as sensitive. She needed slow and gentle and that was what she was going to get.
Lifting back up again, Cordelia tossed back the damp strands of hair that clung to damp and flushed cheeks. Then graced him with the most sensual smile he’d ever seen. Transfixed, Angel raised a hand and brushed aside a few errant strands, letting the tips of his fingers linger and trail down a warm cheek.
“You’re something else, y’know that?”
“Yeah, but I never get tired of hearing it.”
Leaning into his touch, Cordelia slid her eyes closed; then lifted and lowered herself on his impaling shaft. Every scrap of sensation she felt was visible on her face and even his not so civilised instincts stopped screaming and let him just watch, mesmerised.
Braced with her hand on his belly, she rode him with innocent skill that was pure wantonness. With the lights off and bathed in the silvery moonlight spilling in from the window, Cordelia took her own pleasure and gave him his at the same time.
Willingly held in her thrall, his soul ached with a love so strong he could cry. Instead and biting back helpless moans, his hand drifted so that his thumb skimmed a pouting lower lip. Revelling in a burgeoning sensuality, Cordelia opened her mouth and took it inside, playing her tongue along the digit and suckling as if she already knew what that would do to him.
Powerless not to react, Angel bowed his back and groaned as a jolt of sizzling sensation shot up his spine. When his brain stopped fizzing and he could prise open his eyes again, he saw the tide of another orgasm rising up from within her and braced himself.
When it swept over her fully, Cordelia faltered in its grip and a mewl of distress left her lips. Gripping her hips, Angel lifted her a little so that he could finish them both off; using driving upwards thrusts to send her over the edge and make sure her contractions milked him to oblivion with her.
***
Afterwards, exhausted and practically numb, Cordelia sank into her pillow and cuddled closer to the manpire she loved. Accepting soft open-mouthed kisses, she was about to slid into blissful sleep when a stray thought creased her brow into a frown and she said, “The curtains…don’t wanna wake up to crispy vamp.”
“I’ll do them.”
His weight left the bed and then the swishing sound of the curtains along the track had her relaxing back into slumber again. When Angel came back, he turned and tucked her into his body, adjusting them so that he slid inside her again.
Her protest was halted by his voice in her ear, “I know. I’m not planning anything…just getting comfortable.”
Exhausted or not she had to ask, “Are you gonna be like that permanently now.”
His chuckle warned her, “Change the tense to the past,” Angel said, “At least as far back as us meeting up again.”
THE END.