Part 7
Swirling dust heralded the end of yet another vampire. After watching it settle on the ground with distracted eyes, Buffy tucked the stake into the back of her jeans, stomping sourly through the remains as she moved on.
An hour had passed since starting out on patrol, but it felt a hell of a lot longer. Most likely due to going solo. Not that company was a good idea since socializing was way, way down on her list of to-dos right now. Willow and Xander had offered to accompany her – which was strange in itself, as usually they’d just follow as soon as she got up to leave. It belatedly occurred to her that she obviously wasn’t the only one who needed time alone.
So far she’d lucked out on getting information of Angelus’ whereabouts. Of course, it would have helped if she’d stuck to her original plan. What was it again? Oh yeah: interrogate first, and then dust their evil asses. Or was it assi? Buffy shrugged in irritation. Like grammar really mattered in her world.
At least the high slayage numbers had taken the edge off earlier feelings of helplessness even though the emotions left roiling through her still seemed almost too much to bear.
Head down and kicking despondently at loose pebbles on the way through the third cemetery of the night, she muttered, “Only nine to go, oh, joy,” under her breath. Sticking to her original plan shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
Buffy just had to remember, was all. Only, a small part of her – a teeny tiny, miniscule, itty bitty part. Hell, who was she kidding? Not her, that was for sure. A raspy sigh dropped from down-turned lips. She was afraid to find out because of what should follow.
The now-constant ache in her heart notched up several degrees. Can I actually do it? Finally end it face to face? Could she in all honesty drive a stake through his heart? She shuddered, eyes slamming shut for a second.
Oh God. It hurt to even think about it.
True, her caring, tender Angel was gone. Evil incarnate had taken his place, as Giles constantly pointed out lately. Thinking of her Watcher caused the guilt that dogged her heels all night to ramp up yet another painful notch.
Angelus should have been staked the moment he threatened Willow. She still had nightmares about it; already upset and confused by her first confrontation with Angel since they’d…. A choked whimper escaped from whitened lips. It was only by sheer luck that he hadn’t broken her best friend’s neck, with her looking on in shocked disbelief.
Lack of knowledge that his curse had strings made her non-reaction understandable. But Buffy no longer had the luxury of pleading ignorance, and yet still he was out there, strutting arrogantly around like he owned the place.
He’d killed so many people since. Each one increased self-reproach until it felt as if she was drowning in it. What the hell did it take for her to put Slayer duties before personal feelings, Buffy wondered despairingly.
Jenny Calendar. The reminder weighted down deceptively fragile shoulders. Her thoughts did a leap straight to that night not so long ago. And Giles. She’d let him down.
It was her fault that Angel had gone in the first place. Her fault that Angelus was loosed on Sunnydale- inevitably the world in general. The deaths since his ‘return’ all her fault. But still she did nothing. How Giles didn’t spit on her she never knew.
And now the same fate- no, one so much worse, for yet another victim. Bitter bile rose in her throat.
Cordelia Chase.
Knowing it was selfish hadn’t stopped Buffy’s initial thoughts from being, “If that’s what he does to someone I don’t love, what would he do to those I do?”. It didn’t sit well with her at all. Maybe there wasn’t that much difference between her and Cordelia after all.
She regretted thinking a lot of things. At the hospital, when everyone had gone home, Buffy had finally let the words he’d spewed out that night finally take coherent form and wash over her. The jealousy she’d felt! But it hurt that he’d implied- no pointed out with cruel relish, that Cordelia Chase, of all people, was so much more desirable.
Resenting a girl who had to have suffered all kinds of hell before she died added more guilt to the ever growing pile.
Movement to the left pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. Almost relieved by the interruption, Buffy confronted the vampire before he was even aware of her presence. She punched him square in the face, and then turned to the other, grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards her.
The first got to his feet almost instantly and rushed at her from behind. Without missing a beat she flipped the stake and rammed it backwards. Her aim was faultless and he crumbled into ashes even as she turned her full attention back to the one she was holding and punched him in the face. The fabric twined around her fist tore as the force behind the blow caused his body to hurtle back, striking a headstone before hitting the ground.
Sitting up, he groggily shook his head to clear it- then was slammed on his back with a stake pressed over his heart. “I want you to get a message to Angel for me,” Buffy demanded. “Tell him I’m done waiting. I’m taking the fight to him,” she told him coldly.
The dazed vampire mutely stared up at her, which only caused the anger that roiled in her gut to surge to the surface. “You got that? Need me to write it down for you?” she asked, her face so close she could smell the stench of bad hygiene coming off him in waves.
“He-he’ll kill me,” the vampire finally stuttered, shaking his head in refusal.
Buffy gritted her teeth and glared at him in frustration. What the hell did he think she was going to do, give him flowers and a pat on the back? She was the Slayer, for God’s sake! Yet he was obviously more afraid of Angelus than her. The realization stirred something in her that so far, had been missing: resolve.
After plunging the stake in, Buffy climbed to her feet, unreadable eyes staring fixedly at the dusty remains. “Alright, I’ll tell him myself,” she finally muttered before turning to head towards the exit, breaking into a run in an attempt to release the tension that tightened her slight frame.
***
A cigarette butt hissed in the damp grass; thrown by the shadowy figure that stepped from behind a nearby tree.
Choosing to slip out for a fag and a well-needed leg stretch had been better than sitting around bored- or watching Angelus moon over the stone demon. When Dru had gone out for dinner- promising to bring him back takeout, Spike hadn’t hesitated.
Now he wasn’t so sure it had been such a good idea. He leaned back against the thick trunk and tilted his bleached head, pale blue eyes following the jagged line of the newly formed crack that decorated the elegant gravestone several feet away
It seemed Buffy Summers was finally acting in a way a vampire slayer should, and Spike was torn between warning Angelus that the tide had turned, or…
Lighting up another cigarette, he paused all thoughts until a deep drag had been sucked in then noisily expelled.
Things had changed since Angelus had lost his soul, not any of it of the good, Spike thought sourly. Something or someone had to put a stop to the bastard before it got to the point of no return.
And if it happened to be the Slayer?
He only hesitated a second before shrugging carelessly at the thought. Dusting his own kind held no real appeal- plus there was the chance that Dru would never forgive him. After thinking it over for as long as it took to throw another spent butt to the ground, Spike turned and melted into the shadows.
For now, he’d keep what he’d seen and heard to himself.
And decide later if Buffy Summers would be a problem- or a solution.
***
Time had blurred no matter how hard Cordelia had attempted to keep track. Although exhausted, sleep only came in short bouts always ending the same way. Shooting up from sweat-dampened sheets. Crying out in fear. Still-clear images of a sneering Angelus reaching out with hands covered in the blood of everyone she’d ever known.
Initially the nightmares had featured Xander, but gradually, other familiar faces took his place. It was as if her mind was searching out everyone she knew and turned them into his victims.
After trying but failing to stem the images she’d finally climbed out of bed and risked taking a shower. Her nose crinkled in disgust when returning and eyeing the sweat-stained sheets dubiously, and went on to seek out fresh linen to change them. It kept her occupied for a while, but as minutes, hours or even days, endlessly dragged on, the isolation ate away at her so much that she’d found herself yearning for some kind of distraction.
Silence was all-encompassing, drawing her reluctantly to the door. Ear pressed against the smooth wood, Cordelia strained to hear beyond the thick barrier, pulling away in frustration a long moment later when yet more silence greeted her.
Giving into the urge to lash out she kicked the door, then yelped aloud as pain speared through her bare toes. The momentary flare of anger that lightened eyes as she glared at the door faded away with the pain, leaving nothing but helplessness in its wake. Listlessly, she turned away and headed for the bed, climbing between the now-fresh sheets and curled into a fetal ball. God, she was so damned tired, but although she strived for sleep, it eluded her.
Aching, gritty eyes fixed on a point above the chest of drawers in her line of vision instead, seriously at a point now where even Angelus’ presence seemed preferable to her own company. A frown marred her brow at the thought. Where the hell was he?
It wasn’t the first time he’d left her, true, but it had never been for long. Maybe it was yet another form of torture to add to the growing list?
Being alone meant there was nothing to do but dwell on all that had happened since being snatched. Xander’s suffering before he was killed. Wondering what Angelus had been doing all this time. The worry of what he had planned for her when he finally returned.
Well, if that had been his intention then Cordelia had to admit it was working big time.
The sound of the door suddenly crashing open and hitting the wall shocked her whole system. She bolted upright, wide frightened gaze fixed on the door as it bounced back. A large pale hand curled round the edge, stopping its abrupt closure. Angelus entered and immediately turned to slam the door shut, his forehead coming to rest against the dark wood paneling.
Cordelia stared fixedly at his rigid frame. Watched as he drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out, his broad shoulders sagging seemingly under some invisible weight. The spark of confusion that creased her brow intensified when, at the end of the breath, a faint but harsh sob broke the tense silence.
After a long moment he turned his back flush to the door. Unconsciously trembling fingers twisted the soft fabric covering her torso as she watched the slow ascent of his dark head. He looked dazedly around the room until, finally, his eyes met and locked with hers only to drop away almost immediately.
Panic pushed aside confusion at the taut features and almost black gaze as Angelus eyed the shirt covering her body. Defiance had been a large part of her earlier decision to put it on, but the anger now clenching his jaw had her rushing to remove it.
“Stop!”
Cordelia’s head shot up at the hoarse demand. Shaking hands pausing as she eyed him warily. It took a moment to realize that Angelus hadn’t moved from his position in front of the door, clarity of vision being dogged by befuddled senses.
Instantly, he averted his face, his eyes shielded by pale lids. Stunned surprise had her mouth dropping open. Although it was the last thing she’d ever have believed possible, Cordelia was almost certain that fear had clouded those stormy depths.
Hope flared as a thought hit her: Buffy! Buffy was here and was going to save her! That had to be why he looked scared. But as soon as the thought came, she rejected it. Like anyone could scare him!
Furious maybe. Angelus was too much of a cocky bastard. Plus he wasn’t alone here. Spike, for one, and that crazy female vampire Dru-something or other. Cordelia didn’t doubt that Angelus had more than a few minions hanging around too.
Three powerful vamps and co, against a Slayer with a few human sidekicks. The odds would be way too high – even for Powerhouse Buffy.
Angelus’ voice jolted Cordelia back to the present. “Don’t be scared.” His gaze instantly shifted to a spot over her right shoulder when she refocused on him. The fact that he seemed barely able to look at her was bewildering.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Cordelia,” he added softly, straightening up from the door and cautiously stepping forward. His tone and body language reminded her of the way her daddy had once calmed her palomino, Keanu, after he’d been spooked by a delivery truck barreling up the drive of her home.
Believing that Angelus had to playing mind games with her, trying to lull her into a false sense of security – then pouncing when her defenses were down, Cordelia cringed against the headboard, wan face clearly expressing frightened suspicion.
Instantly, he halted at the end of the bed and looked directly at her for the first time since entering, then stuttered out, “I-It’s me. Angel.”
Her mouth gaped open in shock for a second, then snapped shut as distrust tightened her fine features. “Don’t lie.” A hint of a plea threaded through her sharp response and she cringed, hating how pathetic she sounded.
Swallowing audibly, he whispered, “I can’t prove it to you, but my soul is back. Buffy…” His head dipped for a second, and when he looked back up, she was taken aback to find that his darkened eyes were now sheened with moisture. “Giles- he got hold of the details of the curse. Willow cast the spell.”
Cordelia’s instincts were usually dead-on, but right now, she couldn’t trust them. Her head was too screwed up. Every fiber of her being was telling her not to believe him.
As she continued to stare up at him in disbelief, he added, “B-Buffy said something about Oz helping and Xander waving stinky herbs.” He halted abruptly when a gasp wrenched from her paling lips.
“Xander’s dead,” Cordelia finally choked out. “I know ‘cos I SAW the evidence. You showed it to me,” she reminded him thickly, her face twisting in remembered horror.
Instantly he hunched his broad shoulders. “Angelus got the ‘evidence’ from someone else he killed that night.”
Determined not to believe him, Cordelia changed the subject. “What’s with the talking like it wasn’t you?” she narrowed her gaze. “You told me yourself Angel and A-Angelus are the same, soul or not.” Her chin wobbled slightly even as she lifted it.
“He lied to you, Cordelia,” he replied tiredly, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. “It was a ruse designed to hurt you just like his telling you he’d killed Xander.”
Taut silence filled the room until, “H-he’s really alive?” Cordelia finally allowed herself a spark of hope.
Nodding briefly, he told her that Angelus hadn’t seen him. “Buffy was out of it. Xander refused to leave until she was back on her feet. Willow told her the next morning,” he explained, his expression deeply earnest.
Strangely enough, that convinced her. Xander wouldn’t have left Buffy’s side. Believing that she needed him for once, he’d be even more determined to protect her. Cordelia’s mouth tightened; no doubts in her mind that his returning the favor would have nothing to do with any sense of obligation.
The realization that it was Angel standing several feet away and not his alter ego, pushed all other thoughts temporarily out of her head. Eyes quickly glazed with long-held tears, relief apparent as she gazed up at him, momentarily unable to speak. But by the look on his face, it seemed words weren’t needed.
Letting out a shaky breath, Angel rounded the bed and cautiously sat on the mattress edge, then reached out to gently tug her hand from the death grip she had on the shirt and curled his fingers round hers comfortingly.
He waited for her fingers to relax before speaking, his voice low. “We were on our way up here to rescue you when I remembered that Angelus had awoken Acathla.”
Cordelia frowned in puzzlement, “Who or what is an Acathla?”
“He’s a demon who controls a hell dimension.” After a short pause Angel’s eyes darted toward the door before continuing. “By awakening Acathla, a portal was opened that is going to suck the world into hell,” he baldly explained. Shocked silence greeted his horrifying revelation.
“It’s happening right now,” his voice was a hoarse, guilt-laden whisper.
Fingers tightened their hold as she asked, “Where’s Buffy? Shouldn’t you be helping her to stop this thing?” So much for finally being able to relax! Cordelia pulled at her captured hand as panic resurfaced, but Angel refused to release her; wide thumb soothing her wildly fluttering pulse.
“It’s too late,” he revealed starkly. “Nothing can stop it now.”
“What?!” She rose to her knees almost as fast as the fear that grew in her belly. “How close is this- this portal?”
“It’s… downstairs.” This time when she tugged at her hand, he released it.
“Well, where’s Buffy? She’s faced much worse than this before.” Unconsciously, Cordelia reached out, her hand inadvertently grasping his thigh, manicured nails dug into the skin beneath the soft cotton of his dark pants.
“Buffy was in the middle of it. The portal expanded too fast for her to escape.” He glanced down when her nails dug deeper, but made no move to pull her hand away. “I’m the only one left here- besides you,” he added hoarsely.
“What do you mean just you and me left? What’s happened to Buffy? What about the others?” His eyes remained lowered, but she could see that his face had paled to ashen and tightened in pain. Oh God. Goose bumps rose even as icy fear slithered up her tautened spine.
“If you were with her, how come you aren’t…?” The awful word refused to fall from her paling lips. Uttering it aloud would have just made it all too real.
“I’m a demon.” Cordelia had to shake her head to focus on Angel’s voice, which seemed for a moment to come from a long distance. “Only humans are killed and those who aren’t dead yet, soon will be as it spreads.”
He’d said the word for her, and she could no longer pretend it was all a bad dream. Emotional overload came to a peak and her senses began to close down, one by one. It was just too much…
Many times in the past Cordelia had experienced a moment in physical endeavors when she just knew she couldn’t take another step- and then came the blessed second wind: renewed energy or strength to continue an undertaking. But she never would have believed it could happen on an emotional level.
But it did.
Suddenly her mind was clear and objective- and it felt so damned good. Euphoria had her head spinning even as she heard Angel calling her name urgently. As the fog that had obscured her vision dissipated the first thing she saw were her whitened fingers gripping his thigh. Shocked, Cordelia let go and tucked her hand into her lap.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a cleansing breath and recalled the last thing he’d said before her mind decided to take a mini-vacation.
“If it only kills humans, then why am I not dead?” Angel looked surprised after what must have been several minutes of silence from her, but was quick to answer, for which she was grateful. The last thing she wanted was for him to realize what had just happened.
“Because I got to you before any other demon.” Her mouth opened, but he must have guessed her next question and got there first. “I couldn’t save Buffy. She was too close to it. But it’s not too late to save you,” he added earnestly.
Her recently acquired calm shook at that. “What? You’ll protect me. You said you would.” Renewed fear crept into her accusatory tone.
Looking uncomfortable, Angel rushed to explain. “It isn’t that simple, Cordelia. The whole world is being sucked into that dimension, and soon we’ll be there whether we want to or not. Humans can’t survive. I wouldn’t be able to protect you.” His apologetic expression did nothing to ease the scared confusion that roiled beneath the surface.
“So why did you say you could?”
Angel sighed heavily when she pushed away the hand that touched her arm. “Because I know a way round it: there’s a vampire ritual—”
Taking a wild guess, her eyes instantly widened in horror even as she shrunk away from him. “Eww! No way! I don’t want to be like you!” Yes, she wanted to survive, but being turned just meant still ending up dead. “If I’m gonna die anyway I’d prefer to be dead-dead, not UN-dead.”
“I didn’t mean… I don’t need to turn you,” he hurriedly assured her. “There’s another way. We need to form a connection, a bond.”
“Bond?” That didn’t sound so bad, Cordelia thought; hope slowly but cautiously flaring to life.
“It’s an ancient ritual between humans and vampires,” he started to explain. “I give you part of myself, and vice versa.”
Her nose scrunched up, eyes darkening with suspicion. “I’m not sharing any parts until you tell me more,” the demand came out shaky, but her gaze remained firm.
Angel let out a short breath and nodded. “For it to work, for one, you need to give me your innocence—”
“Who says I’m innocent!?” Cordelia cut in, and then flushed a deep pink when he just silently stared at her, his eyes seeming all-knowing, making her feel very uncomfortable.
How the hell did he figure that out? Even Angelus hadn’t really known that…had he? She let out a shaky breath. Those kinds of thoughts would have to wait till much later, definitely following after the other more horrifying ones as to ramifications of what that hell demon meant to the world.
But right now, they were talking about her survival. And God, just thinking that made her feel poster girl for selfish. It crossed her mind that maybe people were wrong about suicide being the ‘coward’s way out’. Maybe, just maybe it took a lot of guts to decide to give up on life.
Something she obviously didn’t possess.
Folding her arms tightly across her chest, Cordelia shook off that disturbing thought and made an effort to concentrate on the now. “What else?” she finally clipped out, her whole body vibrating with tension.
Thankfully, Angel let the virginity issue pass, moving onto the rest of the details. A visible warning was needed to proclaim to other demons that Cordelia was his property. Her spine stiffened even more, indignation adding to the mix.
As he quietly divulged the details, Angel’s eyes never left her face. No doubt waiting for her to interrupt again- or show what would be understandable fear and disgust, but she kept her mouth shut, determined to prove the Chases’ were made of sterner stuff. Not like he needed to know that her insides were turning to quivering jelly.
Her resolve lasted until Angel mentioned sharing of blood. “That sounds exactly the same as being turned, to me.” Her tone echoed the suspicion flaring in dilated eyes.
“To turn someone into a vampire, you have to drain until they’re on the cusp of death,” he quietly pointed out. “This ritual only calls for me to take two mouthfuls of your blood, and you a few drops of mine.”
A soft “Eww” escaped at the thought of having to taste someone else’s blood. It was bad enough when sucking a paper-cut on your own finger, she thought, scrunching her nose in distaste.
Then the full import of his words hit her. “You have to bite me?” her voice rose to a squeak, a trembling hand rising to protectively cover her throat. She’d seen enough victims of vampires in the past year, and it didn’t take a genius to figure that it must have hurt like hell. Mortal fear grew at the thought of how those wickedly sharp fangs that were, at present hidden, would feel tearing into her throat.
Angel nodded, leaning closer when she shrank away from him. “I can make it so you hardly feel it,” he promised, his voice echoing the reassurance Cordelia could read in his eyes.
“Says you,” she retorted, pressing her lips together when they quivered uncontrollably. A small sigh of relief escaped her when he sat back, giving her much-needed space.
“Vampires thrive on pain, so they’d make sure it hurt like hell, but I wouldn’t …” Guilt-ridden eyes slid away for a second and he swallowed thickly before meeting her wary gaze. “The last thing I want is to cause you pain, Cordelia.” Sincerity etched so clearly in every line of his pale face halted her knee-jerk response of reminding him bitterly that he’d done nothing but hurt her so far.
But this was Angel.
She just needed to keep remembering that majorly important factoid. Deliberately pushing aside the recent past, Cordelia slowly nodded her head and, after a short pause, tentatively asked, “What happens after that?”
“We’d be connected”, Angel replied. “But…” he reached out and gently curled a hand around one of her clenched fists, “for it to work, you have to want it to happen.”
Cordelia shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flitting restlessly over his face. “Hello, saving my life. Kinda do. Would all that make me Mrs. Angel or just some kind of slave girl?” Her attempt to lighten the loaded atmosphere with a joke fell flat, and her breath hitched in her throat.
A big part of her wanted to ask him to come back later after she’d had maybe a month or so to think about it. But that wasn’t exactly an option. Ducking her head, she stared fixedly at their entwined fingers. Did she really want to do this?
As if reading her mind, he tightened his fingers around hers in reassurance. “It’s your decision. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but time is running out,” he reminded her urgently, then paused, his tone softening. “I want to save you if you’ll let me.”
She darted a look at his face and was immediately caught in his fathomless gaze, marveling at the wealth of emotion swirling in them. After only too recently seeing those self-same eyes empty of anything but calculating evilness, it was like a soothing balm to her raw nerve endings.
“Show me you want this, Cordelia,” he husked.
It was far from perfect: being intimate with a man…pire she didn’t love- who in turn didn’t love her. Not only that, but her first time- and only to save her life. So not how she imagined it. A bitter smile briefly curled her mouth. The fact that Angel didn’t love her being a good thing wasn’t lost on her, considering what happened when he and Buffy had done this…
Her heart twisted. Since that fateful night, everything had changed for the bad. And now, everyone she ever knew was gone. Forever.
And Angel. He’d lost so much too: first his life, his soul, and finally the girl he loved. Yet here he was, pushing aside his own grief and concentrating everything on atoning for yet more sins that his alter ego had recently added to the already long list.
And right now, she was at the top of it.
Releasing a breath she hadn’t known she was holding Cordelia made up her mind. “What do I have to do?”
Even as she asked, it occurred to her that she was going to need to be horizontal and awkwardly shifted to lie flat, but Angel halted her, instead turning to kneel on the bed and then easing her up until they were face to face.
“Just follow my lead, okay?” At her nod of acquiescence, he leaned in until his mouth hovered inches above her. “I’ll do my best to make this good for you, Cordelia,” he added.” She blinked, momentarily startled both by the husky tone and heat that flared briefly in his gaze.
“Um, Okay.” She blushed, inwardly cursing her lame response, soon forgetting about it when he then asked her to kiss him.
Her focus darted to his mouth and then to eyes that were full of reassurance. After a few seconds, she closed the small gap and lightly brushed her trembling mouth over his.
Satin-soft and so cool against her heated lips that she instantly pulled back with a slight gasp. Looking up and seeing only patience partially settled the butterflies that assailed her belly. Unlacing her fingers from his she rested one hand on his broad chest while the other reached up to carefully cup his jaw before reconnecting.
Sliding her warm lips along the firm lines of his mouth, Cordelia took time to acquaint herself with texture and taste, and then gave into the urge to gently nip at his full bottom lip. The barely perceptible moan that left him emboldened her to mold her lips firmly against his. Her mouth eventually parted, the tip of her tongue tentatively darting out to run along the seam of his.
Muted frustration sounded out when his mouth remained closed so she nipped harder at the soft flesh in protest. With a low growl, his lips parted; cool tongue slicing in to plumb the heated depths, seeking out every crevice before twining around hers. Initially surprised, all she could do was take it, her lips throbbing deliciously under the onslaught, but when he nipped her in gentle retaliation, Cordelia pulled back with a startled gasp.
Struggling for breath, she stared up at his face and was instantly mesmerized by the heat that now melted the rich chocolate of his irises. Slim fingers curled into the fabric of his soft shirt, the tips of her nails lightly scoring the hard muscle beneath and when his large frame shuddered in response, she boldly reached up and fastened her mouth to his, confidence rising with every sweep of her tongue into the moist cavern of his mouth.
The cool slide of calloused fingertips along the bare skin of her spine surprised enough to break contact and she glanced down, startled to find the buttons of the shirt she wore undone. His hand stilled. Looking up, she read uncertainty in his otherwise heated gaze.
Teeth unconsciously chewing at her bottom lip, Cordelia stared back; all the while acutely aware of the hand that had begun to lightly rub circles against her skin. It felt….good. It was enough to push aside the mini-panic and get her leaning up to continue kissing that mouth hovering temptingly above hers.
All thoughts of the whys soon melted from Cordelia’s mind as that cool yet heated tongue darted into her mouth and sucked at hers as if was his new favorite candy. Tingles spread outwards and down until moisture gradually dampened the soft curls between her legs
The sensual slide of his hand between the shirt and her skin now caused streaks of pleasure rather than nervousness, and when his knuckles brushed the sensitive underside of one breast, she eagerly arched into his touch, wanting more. A soft mewl of frustration whispered into his mouth when it almost instantly strayed away to safer grounds and curled around her ribcage, quickly melting into a whimper of pleasure when it came back to cup the soft weight of her breast in his open palm.
Long fingers kneaded and caressed while a gentle thumb ran over a tightening peak, back and forth until she pushed further into his hand. His tongue kept pace with the movement until her head spun dizzily.
For a brief moment, she was reminded of the single kiss Angelus had forced upon her; surprised by how different it had felt compared to Angel. His lips and tongue devoured with equal intensity- yet with an underlying gentleness that softened her mouth, causing the lingering tension assailing her body to fade.
As arousal increased, her hands became restless, wandering over his chest and stroking the hard planes, reveling in the convulsive twitch of powerful muscle under her fingers. When the tip of one nail dragged over his left nipple, Angel moaned into her mouth and shuddered; the hand cupping her shoulder drifting downwards settle on her thigh. Initially she jolted at the contact but then relaxed when realizing his fingers just stroked along her the skin but didn’t wander.
The combination of his deep kisses and gentle touching gradually pushed all remaining thought out of her head, leaving only growing need for more, so when the hand on her thigh moved away, Cordelia softly protested at the loss. Releasing her lips with a soft pop, Angel eased back a little and it took a second to realize that her lungs were starved of air.
Sucking in deep gulping breaths, her eyes, cloudy with arousal, clung to his expectantly. When he made no move to breach the small gap, puzzlement creased her brow. That feeling rapidly shifted to surprise as her gaze roved over his taut features. Lips, full, rosy and moist, were clenched tight. Streaks of red emphasized his gorgeous cheekbones.
She watched, mesmerized as he dragged in a harsh breath; nostrils flaring whitely followed by a ragged moan. A delicious shiver zipped along her spine. Gold striations blazed to life in his gaze and abruptly dipping his head, he took her lips in a drugging kiss. His tongue tangled hotly with hers.
Although long fingers sought out the tender curve of her breast, rolling and plucking at the tightly budded nipple until she moaned aloud with the streaks of pleasure it evoked, Angel made no move to close the gap between them. Missing full bodily contact and the hand that had stroked so delicately along her thigh, Cordelia gave into the urge to bridge the gap, nudging her knee against his in a mute request for more.
He responded by guiding her forward until she ended up straddled over his powerful thighs. A choked gasp left her at the solid feel of him and tore her lips away from his to ask; “Is this okay?”
Looking surprised, Angel nodded wordlessly before darting his tongue between her parted lips, then pulled her even closer. The hand caressing her breast dropped away, going on to smooth along her spine, tracing ever-widening circles against her heated skin. Before the protest hovering on her lips could sound out, his free hand lifted to curl firmly around her other breast.
Cordelia hissed and arched into him when his thumb and forefinger tugged roughly on her nipple, before soothing the sting by circling the tightening areola gently. In heated retaliation, slim fingers slipped through the gaps of his shirt and pinched at the first hard bud they came across.
The solid muscle beneath instantly clenched, a guttural moan echoing in the warm cavern of her mouth and the hand on her back skimmed lower to gently squeeze her bare hip before moving on until his wide palm rested flat against the ripe curve of her ass. The bold contact infinitesimally tensed her frame, but when it stayed put she relaxed.
The hand cupping her breast moved to curl around her ribs, lightly pressing fingertips in the dips between. Blindly following her body’s needs Cordelia instantly curled her fingers around his and tugged them back, incoherently murmuring with satisfaction when he acquiesced. The fingers splayed over her ass flexed and molded, but this time she didn’t even blink.
Kisses deepened until her head spun dizzily with a blend of spiraling arousal and the need for air. Releasing her mouth with noticeable reluctance, Angel let her catch her breath, moving on to drop butterfly kisses along her jaw and gently mapped the cord of her throat.
Strong blunt teeth nibbled lazily along her collar bone. Frantic fingers tore at the closed buttons of his shirt as the urge to explore grew. A triumphant whimper escaped when the soft fabric finally parted to allow her hands full access to the pale, silken skin beneath. Busy mapping the hard planes of his chest, Cordelia missed the slow journey of Angel’s mouth towards the breast his hand was molding rhythmically, until cool, moist lips closed over the aching tip.
Fire zinged along her body to settle and spark between her legs; hot liquid arousal drenched her core and soaked through the soft cotton covering of Angel’s pants. A strangled groan escaped and vibrated against her captured nipple, causing yet another surge of wet heat.
With the multitude of sensations swamping coherency, she was hardly aware of him easing her down until her back was flush to the mattress. Bare thighs unconsciously spread wide to accommodate the lean hips pressed intimately between.
Angel’s teeth gently worried the begging nub of her breast; cool tongue lashing over and around before quickly moving on to her other nipple. Her fingers twined into his thick, silken hair pulling him closer still, arousal heightened by the added sensation of the thickening ridge of his erection that ground against her clit.
The hand gently kneading her ass released its hold to curve over her hip and slowly trailed down her belly. Sudden awareness of fingers gently threading through the soft dewy curls, partially doused the arousal that fogged her mind – and she tensed, nervousness quick to reassert itself.
Taut fingers clenched in his hair, refusing to relax their hold even when his hand instantly stilled. Releasing her reddened nipple, Angel reached up to gently loosen the grip on his hair and rose until his head was level with hers. Peppering her mouth with gentle kisses he eventually pulled back with a muted groan, to look down at her.
Reality knocked on the door and it fully set in that this was really going to happen. His gaze, gentle and warm, like melted chocolate, caught and held her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he softly asked.. Cordelia stared up at him mutely, hazel irises almost swallowed by pupils dilated by both nerves and lingering arousal.
This was Angel. So often she’d dreamt of this happening- before things changed- his vampirism … then Angelus.
Angelus… this would have been a given: him taking her innocence. But instead she was doing this with Angel. And although knowing why, she realized that yes, she did want this to happen.
Decision made, she nodded and lifted her head to softly kiss him.
As their tongues tangled, heat rebuilding rapidly, his hand continued its descent, fingers running through her curls once more before finally slipping lower to delve between the slick folds.
Her breath caught and held as lightly calloused fingertips sought out all her secrets, tracing around her core briefly before sliding up to lazily circle the source of her pleasure. After a while, her hips shifted restlessly. So far he’d avoided direct contact with the one place she now wanted him.
A moan of growing frustration was swallowed by his mouth, and just as she was about to pull her lips from his, the wide pad of his thumb pressed down causing her hips to jerk in reaction. He manipulated the bud rhythmically until it swelled and throbbed against his skin, then lifted away to dip shallowly into her drenched core. Smoothing the moisture collected over it, he then applied firmer pressure. With a gasp of delight, she reached up to grab his broad shoulders, fingers twining tightly into the material of his shirt.
Growing moans and mewls of pleasure left her lips at the constant attention, Her hips undulated beneath him, vaguely aware that the hand between her legs was now slick with juices her body copiously released. All too soon the intensity built to an almost painful degree, and her hands tensed in readiness to push at him- just as his thumb shifted and a long, thick finger slowly pushed into her core.
Once the shock of the intrusion passed, Cordelia found the sensual slide the lightly callused digit added another level to the overall pleasure, and her body softened to accommodate. Then his thumb came back into play, mimicking the gentle thrust of his tongue and finger until a deliciously familiar pressure built up in her belly. All concentration locked onto the sensation, hips now grinding against the hand working tirelessly between her legs.
Tearing her lips from his, Cordelia began to plead incoherently for whatever was needed to push her over the edge eluding her. Angel lunged down and stilled the flow by taking her mouth with breathtaking passion- at the same time sharply flicking her clit.
Her vision blurred, body losing all control as she exploded with an overload of intense pleasure. The scream of his name muffled in the warming cavern of his mouth. By the time she’d floated back down to earth, they were both naked. One of his hands cradled her cheek, the other curved around her hip.
The only warning given that this was it, was the nudge of the cool broad head of his penis against the tight entrance her core. Then he flexed his hips and slowly, but persistently pushed into her. The hard thick length that now built a different kind of pressure within her had Cordelia instinctively struggling to pull from his grip. Tearing her mouth away from Angel’s with a pained moan, she attempted to press her hips into the mattress to lessen the discomfort, but a firm hand at her hip kept her immobile as he pulled out almost fully before thrusting all the way in.
Pain speared out and her spine arched; heels digging into the mattress seeking leverage to pull away. She was blind to the fact that his body had stilled, her whole focus centered on the thick length embedded deep. Angel’s large hand shifted to cup her ass and pulled her closer until their hips pressed snug; the other cradled the back of her head and tilted her face to his. He alternated between murmuring reassurances and sipping gentle kisses from her mouth, the pads of his fingers lightly massaging her scalp.
Pain that had lashed through her moments before soon faded as the tender caress of lips, tongue and fingers distracted. Discomfort was still a factor, but it was bearable, and without the earlier heavy fog of arousal that had clouded her mind Cordelia finally noticed that he remained unmoving. A fine tremor ran through his body and she looked up to see taut features and eyes that revealed barely restrained desire.
Strangely enough, the dawning realization that he was holding back his own urges in an attempt to make this easier for her, caused tightly clenched muscles to unlock, the nervousness easing by degrees. The deep throb of his shaft told her quite clearly just how much of an effort it must be taking to keep still.
Acknowledging the fact that he actually wanted her softened her resistance completely, and she began to return the gentle kisses he was still bestowing on her quivering lips.
Angel’s gaze reflected his relief and deepened the kiss, seemingly content to focus solely on her mouth. Minutes passed before he finally began to gently rock his hips against hers. It wasn’t unpleasant like she’d pretty much assumed it would have to be, considering the horrible tearing sensation felt when he’d first pushed into her.
In fact, as the minutes went by, the slow slip-slide gradually began to frustrate her; hips jerkily pushing up to demand more. With a heavy groan, Angel tilted her pelvis and quickened his pace, his mouth molding over hers and parting her lips to enable deeper contact.
Soon the room was filled with soft hoarse moans, whimpers and hitching breath. The wet slap of skin sounded out as their hips crashed together almost roughly.
Pleasure grew as her body accepted the thick invasive penetration, the faster and harder he thrust, the more aroused she became. Her knees rose higher as she sought the burn that had blown her mind the first time round, when his fingers had played her body like a fine instrument. But this time it was slower in coming and frustration came out in a high pitched whimper.
Maybe Angel guessed- or simply was so experienced he just knew. Cordelia really didn’t care right now, but he picked up on it instantly releasing the breast he’d been kneading, to delve through the wet curls, pinching and squeezing at her distended clit.
The resulting orgasm, although not as powerful, was still enough to convulse her body and distract her enough not to fully feel the pain when his head buried into the crook of her neck, elongating fangs unerringly finding and slicing into her jugular.
By the time her head cleared, Angel was already sealing the wounds. The gentle ministrations of his tongue and lips were in stark contrast to the powerful thrusting of lean hips that now pinned hers to the mattress.
Momentary panic hit her when his head finally lifted. Wide eyes were caught and held by burning amber for long seconds. Then she wrenched them away to stare at the gleaming fangs that crowded his mouth. He bit into his bottom lip and her rapidly thundering heart eased somewhat when in the blink of an eye, his human visage slipped back on. When his head lowered until mere inches separated his mouth from hers, Cordelia instinctively pressed back into the pillow, eyeing the blood seeping from the cut he’d inflicted before looking up until their gazes met.
Eyes dark as pitch stared back; taut features shone with a film of sweat. Arousal heightened his male beauty and for a moment, she was entranced.
“Cordelia…” His hoarse, strained voice made her blink rapidly, the sound startling after so long without words. It was enough to remind her of what they were doing- and why. Her eyes dropped from his to again look at the welling cut, and after pushing aside the surge of distaste, she closed the gap and sucked his bloodied lip into her mouth.
Almost instantly Angel’s body jerked, his hips crashing erratically against hers until, with an almost pained moan, came hard. Her breath whooshed out moments later when his heavy frame collapsed, trapping her completely beneath him. Her hands automatically rose to stroke his hair as he shuddered over her.
When he seemed content to stay put, she shifted her hips in an attempt to ease the growing discomfort; grimacing when a bead of cool liquid trickled down the crease of her ass. Then out of nowhere, a wave of exhaustion hit her.
The effort of warding it off was just too much, and with a half formed thought of how embarrassing it was to conk out with a hunk of salty goodness draped over her, Cordelia let it take her under…
***
Feeling the feminine form trapped beneath him softening as sleep claimed her, a faint smile formed on his face as he reluctantly pushed up. Resting on his elbows, he stared down at the sleeping beauty, the smile fading as he moved to run a long finger down her silken cheek and across her relaxed full bottom lip.
She’d been so damned tight that it had killed him to hold back. Hadn’t stopped him coming like a freight train, he admitted wryly. His only regret was that pretending to be Angel had ruined his usually knockout performance. Her second orgasm had been a real disappointment. Having Cordelia scream his name while she thrashed feverishly beneath him… His cock instantly hardened inside her at the thought.
For a split second, he was tempted to fuck her again- this time with no holds barred. Then he shook his dark head and pulled out of her with a husked groan.
No, he wanted Cordelia Chase fully conscious when that happened. Needed her to know exactly who was doing the fucking. Wanted her screaming his name as he took her over and over.
Climbing to his feet he stared down at the sight of her gorgeous bared body, thighs splayed invitingly open and growled long and low before turning his back.
“Thanks, Soulboy – I owe you one.”