Season of Solace. 87

87: Angel’s Bedroom, Crawford Street Mansion, Central Sunnydale

Anyone human would be relaxed, sated. Instead, Angel remained on edge, angry for giving in to desire. The curse and the consequences of making love to Cordelia weighed heavily on his mind. He had been a damned fool to risk his soul though the selfish part of him that let it happen coveted every moment.

Guilty thoughts filled his head as he lay spooned against Cordelia waiting for the inevitable to happen. Fear of the consequences had him mentally lashing out at those who were far out of reach. Damned gypsies. Even though the blame lay closer to home with himself.

Cordy slept soundly making adorable little snuffling sounds now and then as she dreamt. With her body curled naturally into his, the smooth silk of her back and bottom warmed him. Tugging at the sheet until it draped over her legs, Angel paused to trace the feminine curve of her hip. His finger pads followed the dip of her waist spreading out across her soft belly and brushing up against the curls between her thighs.

Applying gentle pressure, he drew her closer into his lower body unable to resist the sensation of her lusciously ripe bottom against his loins. Even now, wracked by guilt and fear, his body had a mind of its own, stirring heavily against her. The thought of making Cordelia his again was far too tempting.

So beautiful.

Closing his eyes, feeling the deep pulse beneath his hand, Angel listened to her body’s rhythms. Drinking in the intoxicating aroma that was Cordy covered in his scent, he felt headily possessive.

Mine.

The fleeting fantasy of waking her up preceded images of her response. Given the chance, Angel knew he would find it hard to let her out of his bed. Once was not nearly enough, but it would have to be.

When Cordy had drifted off in his arms, he had chosen not to awaken her. Keeping her up all night long was a tempting prospect, but one he could not afford to risk. It was all too easy to imagine her shuddering with pleasure as he took her time and again, hearing her call out his name until she was hoarse with it, and saying what he wanted to hear.

She loves me.

Possessive thoughts mixed with soft, tender feelings, enticing darker desires, and dreams of a future he had no right, no hope to consider. None of it mattered now. He had made love to Cordy under the illusion that he could control his own feelings, that he would limit himself to bringing her pleasure without seeking his own.

Now we’ll both pay for it.

As would countless others when Angelus was free of the fetters of his soul. It was inevitable and now there was nothing he could do except wait.

Angel tried to remember exactly how long it had taken the last time. Of course, back then he had been ignorant of the danger, lost in the hazy afterglow of his feelings for Buffy. It was not instantaneous. There was no doubt in Angel’s mind that while he was with Cordy he had forgotten all about his past mistakes, about Bev’s tragic death, and anything else that detracted from his own feelings.

She was vulnerable, needing comfort, not to get laid. The hard sound in his head softened as he put a different twist on his actions. Made love to. The memory of it felt so intense, incredible.

Selfish bastard.

The circumstances held no comparisons, but how could the outcome be different? Desperation churned at the thought that he might lose his soul and Cordelia in the process. Then he considered there was something to be done. He knew that he should be putting some distance between them just to give her a chance at escape. Better yet, he should look for a stake and take care of things before his soul was gone and he was incapable of stopping himself.

But what if there was a chance…? It did not seem likely that the curse would allow him to make love to Cordelia without the damned ‘happiness clause’ kicking in. One look at her flooded him with emotions that he could not compartmentalize, mentally boxing away for safekeeping as he did with so many other things.

After a moment’s hesitation, Angel let the words take focus in his mind, and the feelings they engendered resonate within him.

Love you, too.

He dared not say them aloud. Doing so might be the one thing to push him over the edge. Just thinking them was terrifying enough.

After a butterfly kiss against her silky shoulder, Angel nuzzled his cheek against the warmth there before reluctantly pulling away. Lacing his fingers behind his head against the pillow, he stared at the cracks in the ceiling as he waited for the ticking time bomb within him to explode.

Silently damning gypsies everywhere for their method of vengeance, he counted off the seconds. Angel could not understand what was taking so long. Despite his ideas about leaving, he knew any attempt to put some distance between himself and Cordy would be futile. He could not imagine Angelus not tracking Cordy down.

Angel also knew that he was too selfish to stake himself. As long as there was a chance he would not lose his soul, he had to take it. He would not give Cordelia up that way. Life had not been fair to her and he wanted to be the one to make it better. The longer he waited without any change, he began to consider the notion that perhaps the tragic events of the night and his own fears about what might happen had prevented perfect happiness.

That seemed ridiculous. Cordelia’s warmth seeped into his skin as she lay curled up beside him sleeping blissfully. One glance was enough to remind him of every kiss, every touch, the way her hot sheath clenched around him, and the joy he had felt when Cordy said she loved him. God, she loved him.

It made him want to show her once again how much he felt for her, to tempt fate again. If he had somehow managed to avoid losing his soul this time, the next would be even more dangerous. His restraint only went so far. Now that he had had a taste of her, and taken her innocence, he doubted his ability to resist by stopping at kisses.

Silently, Angel cursed his weakness. Remembering her soft pleas, he knew that he’d had the opportunity to put a stop to it before things went too far, but he’d fallen for the fiery gleam burning in her eyes matching his own. Saw in her what he needed.

The excuses did not matter. Right now Angel had Cordelia’s safety to consider. He waited until he figured too much time had passed. Nothing was going to happen. At least not anything related to him. Her attacker was still out there, however. It was a tracker by nature and there was no telling if it might find a way to locate Cordelia here at the mansion.

Angel decided he needed to stop focusing on himself and start thinking about securing the mansion. Unfortunately, that meant leaving Cordelia alone for a while. She was sleeping soundly ignorant of his fears.

When he moved to get off the bed, Cordelia shifted as if sensing his loss. She grabbed his pillow hugging it to her chest, letting out a soft little laugh in her sleep that made him wonder what she was dreaming about. Angel stood there watching her for a few minutes until he dragged himself away.

He was nearly dressed, just buttoning up a clean black shirt when a sound caught his attention. It came from downstairs. The sounds were coming from the foyer, footsteps and muffled voices. Feeling violently protective, he took one last look at Cordelia before slipping out into the hall and shutting the bedroom door securely behind him.

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