Unwanted Passions, Chapter 8

Author’s Notes: Set during BtVS season 2.  So I struggled for a while with this… note the long gap between the previous chapter and this, trying to find a way to have what would amount to a “happily-ever-after” for Angelus and Buffy. This was the best I could come up with at the time… But it seemed to work.

Warning: Reminder – this is for mature audiences only. This is a dark story with adult language, explicit sex, little to no plot. Angelus is nicer, but he’s still not that nice. And we have Spike, who’s not at all nice either (remember, evil vampires did at one time exist in Sunnydale.*g*)

Warning 2: Multiple character deaths.

Mostly PWP. At least, I tried to keep it that way but a little P crept in. I repeatedly kicked it and ignored it, but it wouldn’t go away. Still, I paid it very little attention. You have been warned.

Dedication: This is for Susan, who always manages to make me laugh. Can you say Mojitos and sexy shoes? I think you can… *g*

Special thanks to indie and Copper for their continued support and encouragement; and to Eleni Angel for my beautiful Antonio and Johnny LJ icons.

Thanks to everyone that sent feedback on this fic and waited so patiently for more.

Rating: Very much Adult; explicit sex, rape, coercion, blood play.

Disclaimer: Own nothing. All belongs to Joss, ME, Fox, et.al.

Pairing: B/Aus, includes W/S.

Distribution: My site, EverySixSeconds; sites currently with permission to host my fics; all others please ask.

Originally posted: Sep 16, 2003

When Buffy woke the next morning, she was in her own bed in her own room. She glanced anxiously around, half expecting to see Angelus but instead saw only the bright sunlight streaming through one partially uncovered window.

Rolling over with a sigh, she noticed the deep scarlet rose lying on the pillow next to her along with a note. The bold script handwriting was familiar, Angelus and Angel sharing the exact penmanship. Although, Buffy mused, Angelus’ hand was certainly more. bold. More forceful.

She picked up the note and read the brief message reminding her to return to him tonight. Tucking the folded paper in the drawer, she picked up the rose and held it to her nose inhaling the delicate fragrance. Who would have thought that Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, would do something so romantic?  With a small smile, she rose and headed to the bathroom to shower and dress for the day.

– – – – –

Giles rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes as he made his way into his small kitchen to make tea.  He and Jenny had been up most of the night unsuccessfully searching for the men from the Watchers Council.

He’d left Jenny at her home only a few hours ago and returned home himself, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before he’d need to make an appearance at the high school. His one small consolation about having to work today was that he’d be able to see Buffy and . well, what then exactly he wasn’t sure. He didn’t quite know how to tell her about the ritual the Council suspected Angelus might be planning to perform, or had perhaps already begun. He didn’t want to alarm her with unfounded suspicions and yet he couldn’t leave it without saying anything.

As he waited for the water to boil he wondered briefly if the vampire had indeed already started the various rites. he then pushed away the thought with a shudder. It was simply unprecedented, in more ways than he could imagine. The ritual was dangerous and powerful and perhaps more importantly, unsubstantiated. There was absolutely no account on record that anyone had actually achieved immortality. Of course, that was perhaps because few, if any, such attempts had met all of the particular requirements of the spell.

As he poured the steaming water in the teapot, he made a mental note to review the spell one last time. Perhaps he had misunderstood something.

– – – – –

Showered and dressed, Buffy wandered into the kitchen in search of food, the activities of the previous night having left her famished.

“Buffy. Good morning.” Joyce glanced up from the newspaper she was reading to look at her daughter.

“Hey.” Buffy poured herself a glass of orange juice from the carton on the counter before opening the refrigerator to scan the contents.

With her expression one of practiced innocence, Joyce added lightly, “I’ve been thinking. I’ve been so busy at the gallery that we haven’t spent much time together. What’d you say we just take off and drive down to San Diego for the weekend?”

“Have you been reading ‘Parenting’ magazine again?” Buffy asked as she examined a bowl of fruit with a critical eye before selecting a peach. These types of bonding activities usually came on the heels of guilt after Joyce had been reading some article about how to be a better parent or how to get to know your child.

“So what if I have?” Joyce replied defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. “Will it kill you to spend some time with me?”

Sighing, Buffy turned to look at her mom. “No. It won’t kill me. But I have school today. and Mr. Giles… I promised to help him do stuff at the library today. Book stuff. And then, and then- Willow and I have plans. The Bronze. Tonight. Friday nights are always big nights at the Bronze.”  She added the last bit on impulse, rapidly searching for excuses that would keep her in Sunnydale. Of course there was her duty as the Slayer, but lingering in the back of Buffy’s mind was also her promise to Angelus.

Joyce smiled smugly. “I’ve already left a message at the school and one for Mr. Giles saying that you won’t be there today. I doubt very much that whatever he needs you for can’t wait until next week. I’ve got to be back Sunday afternoon to meet Mr. Phillips about a piece he wants to sell on consignment at the gallery. You can see your friends then.”

“But-” Buffy replied, her voice filled with frustration.

“No buts, Buffy. I don’t want to hear it. We’re going.” Joyce’s voice was firm. She set her coffee cup in the sink and walked toward the door. “Be ready to leave in about half an hour.”

Grumbling, Buffy stomped up the stairs.

While she threw a few things into a bag, Buffy called Willow and whisperingly told her what had transpired yesterday at the school library with Xander and later with Angelus. She then pleaded with Willow to somehow tell Angelus where she had gone. For reasons she didn’t want to analyze, it was important to her that he know she was not willingly breaking her promise too him.  Neither did she look too deeply at her feelings for the vampire – unwilling to acknowledge the growing attachment to him or the conflict that it created for her as the Slayer.

– – – – –

The weekend found Angelus restless and edgy as he paced around his apartment like a caged animal. At night, he went out alone, moody and irritable.

He was angry that he had not been able to take his rage out on Xander Harris, the Council having spirited the boy away without a trace. He was also frustrated over the unaccustomed and unwelcome celibacy for these last two, now almost three days. Each night he had perused the women at the Bronze or those lingering on the streets of Sunnydale with the intention of easing the ache in his loins, but he found no one that appealed.

Despite his promise to Buffy, he hunted and killed viciously in an attempt to assuage his frustration and anger. He didn’t even consider that it was of small consolation that his victims had been some of the lowest forms of life in Sunnydale, one a known pedophile, the other a brutal killer himself.

When Willow had shown up on Friday afternoon, nervously stammering the message that Buffy’s mother had taken her to San Diego for the weekend, he had given the red-haired girl a cold, narrow-eyed stare that caused her pulse to jump erratically and her palms to sweat. She blurted out what she had come to say in a high pitched voice, almost a squeak, and then had turned and run down the street as fast as her legs would carry her. Angelus watched her from the shadows of the doorway with a smirk. As if he would chase her out into the sunlight anyway.

His initial impulse after slamming the door had been to go after Buffy and bring her back. The only words that mitigated some of his anger and curtailed his urge had been part of Willow’s hurriedly delivered message, in which she said that the blonde Slayer would be back Sunday afternoon.

So he paced and he raged but ultimately, he waited.

– – – – –

It was almost seven o’clock on Sunday evening when Joyce turned her green Jeep into the driveway. She had seriously underestimated the traffic through LA, so they arrived back in Sunnydale much later than she had planned. It had made for a tense drive home as Joyce tried repeatedly without success to reach Mr. Phillips, the client she was to meet that afternoon.

Buffy noted the “0” on the answering machine as she swept by it on her way upstairs. She was anxious to change and get going, hoping to stop by and see Willow and do a couple of quick sweeps of the Sunnydale cemeteries before heading over to see Angelus. Behind her, Joyce picked up the phone and began dialing, trying again to reach her client.

Just as Buffy crossed the threshold of her room, a strong arm caught her around the waist and yanked her back hard against a solid muscular chest while a large hand covered her mouth. Dropping the bag she had been carrying in her hand to the floor with a solid thump, she wriggled and clawed at the hand over her mouth.

“Welcome home, Buff.” A soft familiar voice purred in her ear, the sound effectively stopping her struggles. His lips grazed the sensitive skin of her neck as he pressed his hips into her bottom, the bulge of his erection obvious even through her thin floral skirt and his leather pants. Behind them, Angelus kicked the door closed with a soft tap of his foot.

“What are you doing here?” Buffy whispered nervously as he dropped his hand from her mouth. His fingers grazed her breast then settled possessively on her lower abdomen, just above the apex of her thighs.

“Waiting for you.” The dark-eyed vampire whispered against her neck as he moved his hand with agonizing slowness to slip under her camisole top, his long fingers splaying across the firm, smooth flesh of her stomach. His teeth grazed her ear lobe. “I missed you, lover.”

He missed her! Her heart fluttered and shouts of exultation sounded in her head until her better judgment tempered her excitement. Angelus was hardly the type for her to entertain such silly romantic notions about. Besides, it was her duty to slay creatures such as he. Still, the fact that he was in her room waiting for her when it was still light outside meant that he had been determined to see her. That meant something. didn’t it?

A small burst of smug satisfaction swept over her at thought that she had perhaps tamed the master vampire currently clutching her close and grinding his hips into her behind. Angelus, tame! A small smile played on her lips at the very idea as her momentary satisfaction evaporated. Besides which, she thought as she tilted her head slightly to the side, giving him easier access to the curve of her neck, there were things about him that she was growing to appreciate very much… untamed.

Angelus nuzzled her neck as he tugged the hem of her top up over her breasts. Leisurely he brushed his fingers over the lace of her bra then over the tips of her nipples before squeezing her breasts through the pink satin and lace fabric. He cupped and kneaded the mounded flesh as her nipples swelled and hardened.

“What are you doing?” She asked softly, squirming as he swung her around and moved them a few steps back toward the door. Bracing her hands against the wood when he pressed her forward, she glanced back at him and whispered over her shoulder, “My Mom is downstairs.”

“I know.” Angelus smirked against her neck as he held her trapped between his tall form and the door. Reaching around her, he pinched the now engorged tips of her breasts between his fingers, tugging lightly. With deft fingers, he quickly and expertly unclasped the front closure of her bra, pulling the soft fabric away from her skin and giving him access to her bare flesh.  “I guess that means you’ll need to be quiet when you come.”

Buffy sucked in her breath at the lascivious statement, husky with promise. She felt a rush of adrenaline at the idea of doing something so risky as having sex with her vampire lover in her own bedroom where she could get caught any minute by her mother who was just downstairs. She couldn’t deny that a part of her welcomed the risk of such a scandalous behavior. In her heart, she admitted that she more than wanted to indulge in such wanton gratification with Angelus. Only with Angelus.

Still, instilled good behavior insisted that she attempt to resist such wicked urges.  With a deep breath, she attempted to pull away from him, but only succeed in pressing her breasts more firmly into his hands. “We can’t. My mom… she’ll hear.”

A soft moan escaped her lips as he continued the tantalizing torture of her now bare nipples, tugging and twisting before rubbing his thumbs over them roughly.

This is impossible, Buffy thought. They couldn’t… not here. And yet, she already ached between her legs, craving the caress of his tongue, the touch of his fingers, and the long hard thrust of his cock filling her so completely. Her forehead dropped to the door and she arched into him, pressing her bottom into his groin.

“She won’t hear a thing.” Angelus whispered without concern as he turned her in his arms, pinning her back against the door with his large body. He was not about to be denied. One of his hands tangled in her hair as his mouth took hers, impatient and demanding. His tongue thrust deep and tangled with hers as his other hand slid around her hip to cup the curve of her behind. Parting his legs slightly, he lifted her hard against him, rolling his hips and grinding his rock hard erection into her stomach.

Buffy keened softly into his mouth, her hands climbing up his arms to clutch at his shoulders before sinking into his hair. The cool silk of his shirt rubbed against her nipples, further stimulating the hard peaks. Behind her, the door rattled softly as they rocked against it.

“Angelus.” Buffy murmured softly, her eyes opening wide in alarm when the sound of the subtle rhythmic shaking of the door penetrated the fog of desire he so easily wove around her.

Angelus broke off their kiss and lowered his head to her breast. He sucked one taut nipple into his mouth hungrily while his fingers toyed with its twin. His velvet soft tongue swirled around the hard peak, laving it roughly before he bit down with blunted teeth sending heated waves of longing swirling through her veins. Closing her eyes and biting her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure, Buffy gripped the nape of his neck tightly with one hand as he suckled the swollen peak hard into his mouth. Long questing fingers swept along her thigh, pushing her skirt up and she shifted slightly to give him easier access.

He took her other nipple in his mouth as she thrust her breast more firmly against his pulling, sucking lips. His fingers slipped between her legs, rubbing her hot throbbing core through the satin of her panties.

Suddenly Angelus was kneeling in front of her, his mouth wet and cool as he traced a path over her stomach, nipping and biting the firm flesh. His tongue laved at her bellybutton as his hands shoved her skirt up to her waist.

Buffy pressed her hands against the door and swallowed another moan as he tugged her panties down her hips to drop on the floor at her feet.

“She’s going to come upstairs.” Buffy whispered softly as he nudged her legs apart. “She’ll hear us.”

Grabbing one of her hands, he pressed it against her midsection to hold up the soft silky material of her skirt for him.

“No she won’t.” He assured her, his tone unconcerned as his eyes drifted over her partially clad form. He watched her face as he stroked the damp and swollen cleft between her legs with his long fingers, making her gasp and tremble with need. Easing her legs further apart, he parted her folds with his thumbs and leaned forward to take her swollen, glistening clit between his lips.

Buffy stifled a moan as he licked and sucked roughly before sliding his long tongue deep inside her. He teased, pressing hard and retreating slowly, bringing her just to the brink of ecstasy only to retreat and begin again. With a small needy sob, she grabbed his hair and tugged. She wanted the increased pressure of his mouth, the friction of his tongue, the tugging suction of his lips.

Angelus resisted, drawing back to look up at her, his eyes dark and glittering with lust, a small teasing smile on his sensual lips. “Feel good, lover?”

Buffy tensed, hearing her mother’s footsteps at the base of the stairs along with her muffled voice. She relaxed slightly when she realized the sound was from downstairs; her mother was talking on the phone.

Angelus smirked and leaned forward again. Just to torment her further he again began laving and sucking the taut nub of her clit, keeping her release just out of reach. His mouth was aggressive and demanding, stroking and suckling with insatiable, covetous hunger. The wicked pleasure grew with each deft swipe of his tongue and each suckling pull of his mouth, the tension and pleasure building higher and stronger. Oblivious to the creaking of the door, her head rolled against the hard wood as her body arched into his ravenous mouth, striving for that pinnacle of ecstasy that was so, so close.

He moved away abruptly and she whimpered softly, her eyes opening slowly in bewildered surprise.

“Now, Buff. Tell me what you want.” He ordered in a velvety soft voice before licking her again with a lascivious slow swipe of his tongue. It was imperative to him that she be as desperate and needy for him as he was for her, even though he kept a tight leash – or so he thought – on his feelings. His tongue and lips danced over her flesh, so skilled, so talented as he drew her closer and closer to the edge. He thrust one long finger inside her, moving it with exquisite slowness along her highly sensitized flesh but carefully avoiding the swollen nub of her clitoris.

His head lifted and he looked up at her, his dark eyes mesmerizing. He moved his fingertips over her sleek lubricated flesh again before slipping a second finger in to join the first.

A muffled sound from downstairs reminded her again of her mother’s nearness and of the risk she was taking. Her body tensed and she closed her eyes.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you. What you want me to do to you with your mother just downstairs.” He demanded with a small smirking smile, as if reading her thoughts. His voice was low and sensual as he continued the intoxicating caresses, coating her every lush surface with the liquid evidence of her desire.

A plaintive whimper escaped her lips. Her muscles were taut as she held herself still against the door, the drone of her mother’s voice fading in importance to other more immediate desires.

With frustration and adrenaline fast reaching a limit, Buffy looked down at Angelus. Her eyes, desperate and needy, reflected the extent of her desire. Her tongue darted out to trace her lips, her chest heaving slightly with her agitated breath. Her fingers clenched the silky material of her skirt tightly, holding it up and out of the way.

“Make. me. come.” She commanded in a low husky voice. As an afterthought, she added, “Please.. Angelus.”

Including his name in her breathlessly uttered demand was his undoing; Angelus leaned forward and drew the taut nub of her clit into his mouth.

Buffy’s eyes closed and her head rolled against the door as she surrendered to the pure hedonistic pleasure that he offered.

Using centuries of expertise combined with the suctioning swirl of his tongue and firm thrust of his fingers, Angelus quickly brought her to a toe-curling, mind-bending explosive climax.

A horse, ragged cry nearly escaped her lips before she bit it back as her orgasm crested and her entire body jerked and quivered with the force of her release. The door creaked and rattled with her movements, but Buffy neither heard it nor cared as Angelus continued lapping at her sensitized flesh until another small starburst of sensation rippled through her.

Without waiting for the trembling sensations to subside, Angelus rose to his feet and pulled Buffy’s top over her head, stripping it from her along with the pink bra. Yanking her skirt down over her hips, tearing it in his haste, he stripped her completely.

Buffy’s eyelids lifted slowly and she glanced up, meeting Angelus’ dark gaze.

“Buffy?”

Hearing her mother’s voice along with her soft footfalls as she ascended the stairs, Buffy panicked and shoved at Angelus’ broad shoulders, catching him off guard. She raced past him to grab her robe, only to find that it was gone.

In the hallway, Joyce continued speaking, “I’m going to soak in the tub for awhile. See if I can get rid of this headache.”

Whirling, Buffy turned to Angelus. He stood there with a smug look, holding her robe in his hands. His brows quirked upward in question.

Retreating footsteps followed by the slamming of the door across the hall told them that Joyce had gone into her bedroom.

Buffy stared at Angelus, her pulse fluttering erratically at the sight of what a formidable opponent he made, so wholly sexual, so impressively masculine, so tall and dark in his typical black attire, the silk and leather complimenting his sheer physical perfection and superior strength. The long hard length of his erection was a blatant outline against the soft black leather of his pants.

“Come here, Buff.” Angelus said firmly as he crossed one booted foot over the other in almost casual repose. He tossed her robe carelessly into the chair behind him. “And I’ll be gentle.”

“Well, gentler.” He added, as if giving further consideration to his words.

Staring at him standing in her girlish bedroom looking so impossibly compelling, Buffy realized then that she didn’t want gentle. She was excruciatingly aroused in his presence, and eager for his demanding, aggressive possession. She wanted to be fucked. She tossed her hair slightly but otherwise didn’t move, her hazel green eyes meeting the deep rich brown of his in challenge.

His lips curving up in a small carnal smile, he walked toward her, stalking her like a graceful, lean predator. It was obvious in every line of his body, in every nuance of his expression that Angelus reveled in the hunt, the chase, and of course, the capture. Heat and passion swept through her limbs, and her pulse accelerated in anticipation.

In the small room she knew that there was no escape, still she turned and darted away from him, wanting to provoke him in their little game. She’d only gone two steps when a large hand clamped over her shoulder and ruthlessly tugged her back.

He pulled her close to his fiercely aroused body, aware, as in the midst of a hunt or kill, only of the need to conquer. To claim.

He maneuvered them the few short steps to the bed and trapped her against it with his hips and thighs. With his hands on her back, he pushed her face down over the bed.

Her bottom was provocatively raised as he held her in place, his hands roving over her hips. She squirmed, feeling the hard bulge of his cock through the soft leather of his pants against her bare behind. An illicit thrill shot through her.

As if he could read her mind, the dark eyed vampire leaned over and licked her shoulder lewdly. “Admit you want this lover.” He rasped in her ear, reaching around her to rub his palms against her nipples, feeling the pebbled tips. He rotated his hips suggestively, rocking against her.

“I’m not begging, Angelus.” Buffy whisperingly replied, her palms pressed firmly against the bed. Still, she shuddered at his touch, melting with longing.

“That’s too bad, Buff. I was going to put my hard cock in your hot little cunt.” He murmured against her ear, his voice low and taut.

“Nice.” The blonde Slayer replied with a trace of sarcasm in her tone even though a shiver of heat raced through her at his softly worded – and explicit – promise. She wiggled again, fully intending to entice him.

He stepped back slightly and leaned away from her, his gaze raking over her nude form. He nudged her legs further apart with his knee, the soft leather of his pants brushing her thighs in an arousing way. He was aroused by her submissive pose almost as much as the pink cleft that was openly exposed to his gaze.

“You’re really wet, lover. Slippery wet.”  Skilled fingers swept over her wet folds again, teasing.  In the next moment, she tensed as she heard the soft click of his belt buckle followed by the muted purr of his zipper as he unfastened his pants.

“All you have to do is ask me nicely,” he murmured, drawing his rampant erection out of his pants. His long fingers curled around the stiff length and he stroked himself as he leisurely examined her nude form. “And I’ll give you what you want.”

“Lock the door.” She capitulated breathlessly, her fingers curling into the comforter in anticipation.

“Later.” Angelus murmured dismissively. He again felt that irrational, obsessive need for her. It was unprecedented, dangerously close to out of control and so brutally powerful that he could almost feel the weight of it on his chest.

With his fingers splayed over her back, he ran his flat palm over the smooth skin along her spine and over the firm curve of her behind. He dipped his fingers between her bottom cheeks, stroking firmly then delving lower to find her drenched with desire for him. He guided the head of his cock to her wet slit, rubbing against her sensuously. He stopped, poised and waiting.

She pressed backward, her behind swaying enticingly. The only sound in the room was the soft hitch of her breath.

Buffy bit her lip, holding back the plea she wanted to utter.

“Fuck this.” Angelus murmured abruptly, done with waiting and with teasing games. Fierce need erased any further need for her submission. He gripped her hips and adjusted her slightly before penetrating her with one hard thrust that took her breath away.

“Angelus.” Buffy purred breathlessly, lifting her hips and drawing him deeper. She wanted him with same relentless fury that drove him on. She wanted to give him everything and in returned, she wanted to take everything from him. She wanted to make him feel, make him believe that he owned her, body and soul. And then she would own him.

He moved again, thrusting hard, blaming her for the insatiable lust burning through his brain.

Shamelessly Buffy rocked back against him, delighting in the feel of the soft leather pants against her thighs, the silk of his shirt brushing her bottom. She felt so wanton, completely nude while he was still dressed, only his pants unzipped and pushed out of the way.  She stifled a groan as he gripped her hips and slammed into her, harder, deeper.

Angelus leaned over her, bracing his arms on the mattress at her side. His mouth skimmed her back, her neck. He drove in her hard, the size and length of him stretching her as he impaled her to the hilt.

Buffy bit back a sharp cry of pleasure and Angelus growled softly as he withdrew and plunged into her again. He scraped his teeth along her shoulders and back and finally her neck, making her whimper as the small bites translated to fiery pulsations of exquisite delight. His fingers tangled in her hair, turning her head toward him.

His face taut with restraint and his expression savage, Angelus clenched his jaw as his features morphed and his fangs lengthened. His hips pumped against hers, the muscles in his back shifting and bunching under the black silk shirt as he thrust into again and again.

In response, Buffy lifted her hips, rising up on her toes to push back and meet each savage thrust.

A growl rolled up from his chest. Fisting her hair tighter in his hand, Angelus locked an arm around her waist and drew her up. He nuzzled her neck, his fangs scraping as his hand slipped lower to stroke the swollen nub of her clit. Each delicate stroke made her tremble and moan. When he pinched that taut pearl between his fingers, a low ragged cry escaped her lips.

His mouth opened on her neck, his tongue laving her skin roughly before he sank his fangs into the tender flesh where the curve of her shoulder began.

The triple assault of his mouth drawing on her greedily, his fingers manipulating her so deliciously and his cock thrusting into her so deeply served to shatter Buffy completely and she came with a long, shockingly intense orgasm. His name tumbled reverently from her lips as the scalding release sent her plunging over the edge of pleasure and straight into the realm of mindless physical sensation.

With her inner muscles clamped around him tightly, Angelus drove forward relentlessly, thrusting savagely. Finally, with a low primitive growl he tossed his head back and thrust into her one last time, hard and fast as he reached his own explosive climax.

“Now lock the door.” Buffy mumbled long minutes later, her face pressed into the soft comforter, her body still blanketed by Angelus’ weight.

– – – – –

“Buffy? Are you awake?” Joyce called softly through the door. She cocked her head and listened, waiting for her daughter to respond.

Releasing her hard and now deeply purple-rose nipple from his mouth, Angelus’ head came up like a wolf scenting his prey.

Buffy froze, her eyes wide and her breath held.

After undressing with Buffy’s help, he had finally locked the door then joined her in the bed where they had been pleasantly ensconced for the last two hours, Angelus diligently reacquainting himself with his lover’s body.

“No, not really, Mom.” Her voice sounded breathy and deep to her ears as she stared into the dark eyed gaze of her lover. She thought that her mother had gone to bed long ago. “I’m tired.”

Buffy pushed half-heartedly at Angelus’ shoulders as she mouthed, “You have to go.”

The vampire only smirked as he tilted his hips and thrust forward again. He moved with deliberate slowness, ensuring that the hard length of his cock brushed along her swollen and sensitive clit. Covering her mouth with his hand, Angelus stifled the soft moan that nearly escaped Buffy’s lips. Still smirking, he nipped playfully at her shoulder.

“Buffy? Are you okay?”  Joyce asked with concern, her hand reaching for the door knob.

“Answer her.” Angelus murmured softly, removing his hand from her mouth.

“Yes, Mom! I’m fine.” Her voice came out high pitched and breathless again as he moved slightly, grinding the cool expanse of his chest and pelvis against her.

“Are you sure, honey?” With her hand on the doorknob, Joyce pressed her ear against the door.

Would she come before or after her mom opened the door? Buffy thought with an almost hysterical giggle. And what would her Mom reaction be at seeing Angelus in her bed? And with her legs wrapped around his back?

“I’m just… tired. I’ll see you… in the… morning.” Buffy replied, clenching her legs and inner muscles around Angelus tightly to force him to stop moving. This time, it was the vampire that was stifling a groan. “Good night!”

The door knob turned slightly as Joyce paused, contemplating her daughter’s words. After what seemed like three infinite seconds, she called, “Okay, Buffy. Good night.”  The floor creaked softly as Joyce walked away.

“Great. Now she probably thinks…” Buffy dropped her head back against the pillow, a deep guttural sound of approval sounding in her throat as he ground into her again.

“What?” He licked her neck as he withdrew and thrust forward again, “She probably just thinks that you’re masturbating.”

He laughed softly when Buffy groaned. Still, she twined her arms around his neck again, arching against him with a blissful sigh.

– – – – –

Careful not to wake her, Angelus lifted a languid and sated Buffy in his arms, wrapping her in a blanket and carrying her silently down the stairs and out of the house. When they arrived at his apartment, he placed her carefully on his bed and waited until she sighed softly and settled back to sleep, a dreamy smile on her lips.

With meticulous attention to detail, he prepared the necessary items for the final ritual. The smelly herb concoction was sprinkled around the bed in a circle. A small earthenware bowl, a candle, a stone talisman taken from the Shaman and several bags of herbs and magic supplies sat on the table next to the bed along with a lethal looking jewel handled dagger.

Taking the remaining magic herbs and mystical elements, he combined them in the bowl and then recited the carefully memorized words with exact pronunciation. With a satisfied expression, he lit the pair of black candles.

He then stripped off his clothes and joined Buffy in the bed. He woke her with slow gliding caresses of his hands on her breasts and hips, his mouth on hers and his body easing over her. She stirred beneath him, parting her legs to accommodate his hips and he sank into her once again.

Buffy floated on a blissful cloud of desire as Angelus took his time to please her, building up their passion slowly and leisurely until they both reached that highest pinnacle of ecstasy together.

Just after their passion was spent, Angelus reached over and lifted the dagger from the table. He passed it through the mixture in the bowl and then held it over the candle flame until it was glowing red hot. The heat burned his hand, but he pushed aside the pain as he said the final passage from the complicated rite.

Turning back to Buffy, who was still drowsing beneath him, Angelus hesitated only a moment before he plunged the still hot knife into her heart.

Buffy’s eyes flew open with the sharp stabbing pain and she gasped. Her nails bit into Angelus’ bare shoulders as she struggled beneath him. Her eyes were wide, searching his frantically for a reason why he had done this to her.

“Angelus?” She whispered questioningly, as her eyelids drifted shut and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Slowing withdrawing the knife from her chest, Angelus leaned forward and lapped at the blood pooling around the wound over her heart. He listened with near panic as her pulse slowed and her heart gradually ceased beating. Resisting the temptation to clean her sweet blood from the knife, he instead set it aside. Slowly he rose from the bed and pulled on his pants.

For almost an hour, Angelus sat waiting by the fire, his head in his hands. With each passing moment, he felt his both rage and disappointment grow. If the Shaman led him astray, there would not be a day that the charlatan would not suffer the most grueling of agonies and torturous of pains all exacted by Angelus’ very own hand.

Already he was searching his mind for those that would know how to resurrect her. He was determined that he would have his golden beauty at his side.

A loud gasp from the bed brought him to his feet.

Buffy sat up suddenly, breathless and panting, desperate for air as if she were suffocating. Her eyes flew open and she clawed at the crimson silk sheets as she gulped air into her lungs.  As the horrible crushing pain in her chest began to subside, she searched the room anxiously. Her searching gaze halted abruptly when she spotted him.

Angelus was standing next to the bed, an anxious frown marring his handsome features. As her eyes held his, a slow triumphant smile crossed his lips.

A flash of memory jolted her and Buffy’s eyes widened. With a burst of nervous energy, she skittered across the bed, as far away from the dark eyed demon as she could go. Clutching the blood stained sheet to her chest, she stared at him with disbelief and horror in her eyes. He stabbed her!

“You! You. stabbed me!” She cried as she began to shake uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered and her eyes filled with tears. She held up one hand to ward him off as he moved toward her.

“What did you do to me, Angelus?!” Her voice rose, cracking with emotion. “What did you do?!”

– – – – –

She was sleeping, but she heard the tapping sound on the window as if she had been waiting for it. Quietly Willow rose from her bed and went to the curtained French door. Drawing back the heavy drape, her stomach tensed with anticipation. She knew who she expected to see there… who she wanted to see there.

And she knew he was dangerous. She should ignore the subtle tapping and go back to the safety of her bed.

But she couldn’t. For a long moment she simply stared into the blue eyes through the glass. His pale countenance seemed to glow in the moonlight, illuminating his blonde hair and milky white skin.

He was unpredictable and dangerous. She knew why he was here, she knew what would happen if she were to open the door.  The dark memory of their last encounter drifted through her mind. She wouldn’t admit it, even to herself, but she craved that experience again. She was drawn to him, despite herself.

Willow reached for the door, turning the knob slowly.

Spike grinned as the titan haired girl stepped out of her room and into the cool night air.

– – – – –

Giles peeked outside Jenny’s window again. The dark sedan was still parked across the street, the orange glow of a cigarette visible every so often as the passenger enjoyed his Pall Mall’s.

They had been shadowing him all weekend, no doubt believing that he would lead them to the Slayer and therefore, also to Angelus. While he was disheartened by what he suspected was to be Buffy’s future due to the rather determined and strong willed demon, his paternal instincts for her wouldn’t allow him to simply sit back and let them carry out their insidious plan.

It was only earlier that evening that Jenny had managed with great deal of cajoling and finally outright threatening to get Willow to admit that yes, she knew where Angelus and Buffy had been meeting secretly. Fortunately, both Jenny and Willow were more technically sophisticated than the Watcher’s council’s men, so their entire encoded IM conversation appeared as nothing more than questions and answers about school work.

Giles waited patiently until he thought he would be able to confront Buffy alone before he and Jenny put their plan into action. He nodded reluctantly as Jenny crossed the room, wearing a black silk robe. He didn’t like this plan, but he had not been able to come up with anything better that would allow him to sneak out and make his way over to Buffy’s.

Jenny smiled as she opened the curtain and then the window in the pretense of letting in air. The light in the room behind her outlined her shapely silhouette as the belt of her robe slipped, allowing the material to part. She gazed out the window as her hands caressed her breasts almost absently. Across the street, the two men watching the house fixed their gazes intently on the brunette at the window.

Silently, Giles crept out the back door.

– – – – –

Buffy gazed up at Angelus, her eyes filled with fear and distrust.

The dark eyed demon suppressed a smile. He was in excellent humor, his plan having gone as intended. Buffy, his chosen mate, was alive; the ritual had worked therefore the Shaman would be allowed to live. In fact, he might even award the sage with an appropriate grand prize, should he think of something suitable.

But first, Angelus thought as he glanced at the shivering woman sitting in his bed, he had other more important things to take care of.

“What have I done?” He tugged at the sheet covering her gently then with a sudden jerk, pulling it away from her and leaving her exposed to his gaze. “Why, lover, I have made you immortal.”

Buffy curled her knees to her chest, clutching her arms around them. She stared at him, dumbstruck.

Calmly he stripped off his pants.

“And now.” he murmured in a rich purr as he crawled up the bed toward her like a dark graceful panther. “Now I am going to make you my mate.”

Buffy’s breath hitched at his words, her eyes wide.

“No.” She mumbled automatically, inching back toward the headboard. Would he turn her? Her strength was gradually returning, but she was still weak and trembling. She doubted if she would have the strength to fight him off.

“I didn’t go to all this trouble.” He smirked as if reading her thoughts. “If I had planned to turn you. That would have been much easier than all this mess.” He gestured toward the table of magic supplies just before his hand shot out and he seized her ankle. He pulled hard on her leg, forcing her to unfold it and extend it toward him. He then reached for her other foot, pulling it and then her toward him. “But I am gong to keep you with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I chose you.” He continued up the bed until he was leaning over her. He gazed down at her intently as he ran one finger along her jaw, then down her neck. “And because I want you.” And because I want to own you.

His words unleashed a hunger in her soul that made her shiver. She felt as if she was being drawn to him through some irresistible force. Her skin seemed to tingle at his nearness, the warm feeling growing with steady intensity and filling her with desire for his touch, for his sex.

“Until you get tired of me. And then what?” She forced the words from her lips, her senses spinning dizzily.

He lifted his hand and pushed her hair back from her face. He looked in her eyes for a few long seconds before his gaze drifted lower drinking in every inch of her beautiful, golden skin. Beautiful. Sensual. Responsive.

His.

He couldn’t imagine his life – or rather unlife – without her in it. Never had he experienced anything like this before with anyone, but he refused to acknowledge the word that hovered insistently just on the edge of his brain. Love, he mentally sneered, was hearts and flowers not this gut wrenching, powerful obsession that burned through him with such brutal intensity.

“Never.” He shook his head, his fingers toying with a strand of her hair. “I will never tire of you, Buff.”

Buffy caught her breath. He was serious.

She stared into his eyes and caught a glimpse of what he was trying to hide from her, of what she doubted he would ever willingly admit, at least any time soon. And God help her, she felt the same way about him. Her feelings for him went far beyond the physical.

This was the moment of truth. Everything else between them had been just a prelude to this moment, Buffy thought as she stared up into his dark eyes. Her next move, her next decision would define her very future.

Seconds ticked by.

Slowly, her arms twined around his neck and she pulled his head toward her, searching for his mouth. He kissed her, gradually tightening the grip of his fingers in her hair as he deepened the kiss. She pulled him closer, fierce desire sweeping through her senses.

Her breathing was agitated when he finally lifted his lips from hers. Nuzzling her neck with his cool mouth, he feasted on her warm skin as his hands swept over her possessively.

He touched each nipple with a light flicking touch before lowering his head to suck them into his mouth. His hand drifted lower to press between her legs. He toyed with her clit until she whimpered softly and arched into the luscious friction of his hand.

Angelus lifted her thighs over his forearms, parting her legs further as he entered her with one hard thrust. He heard her breath catch as he filled her completely, his thick hard length stretching her.

Buffy rocked her hips and dug her nails into his back, encouraging him as he pounded her into the mattress with a hard driving rhythm. Her harsh low moans followed by wickedly encouraging suggestions sounded in his ear, and he felt that overwhelming need for her touch something so deep inside him that it stunned him.

Stunned? It terrified him.

“You love me.” She purred, her white teeth biting hard into his neck. Her hip rose up to meet his down thrust, welcoming him eagerly back where he belonged.

“No.” He growled as he slammed into her, fighting with himself. His denial was too quick too vehement, to mask the raw feelings underneath. Buffy sighed wistfully and clutched him closer.  His body told her what his lips would not. She knew that he loved her. She knew too that someday she would get him to admit it.

Angelus felt her sigh beneath him and he clenched his jaw. He thrust into her with greater and greater need, unsettled by the profound sense of contentment that he found while buried deep inside her. Being with her. it felt as if this was where he was meant to be. Even as he wanted to deny it, he knew the truth. Still, he refused to mutter ever the smallest word of agreement. Instead, he kissed her again, deeply, passionately, his tongue searching her mouth.

Buffy threaded her fingers through his hair and held him close. Her hunger for him grew as she gave herself up to the sensations coursing through her.

With his mouth close to her ear, he growled, “You’re mine. Mine. MINE.”

Finally, he bared his fangs and let out a primal roar. He lifted her, arching her into him as his fangs sank into her neck and he drank with unrestrained greed. Branding her as his own. Claiming her. Marking her.

Buffy surrendered with a high keening cry, climaxing in an explosive succession of spiraling orgasms, each more volatile than the one before, each melting into the next in a ceaseless swell. Shaken by the intensity of what had just passed between then, she clutched him close, savoring the heavy weight of him as the overwhelming rapture and delirium overtook her.

She had no words for the emotions coursing through her, nothing that seemed to come close to describe the love she felt for the demon in her arms. She knew she shouldn’t. but it couldn’t be helped. The force of her love was deeper than anything she had ever felt in her young life.

Stroking her hair, Angelus collapsed on her as he continued to drink, savoring the delicious nectar of her blood. He lost himself in her. the pleasure, the sweetness, the warmth. her absolute perfection. He wanted to linger, to drown in her welcoming flesh and blood for all eternity.

He lapped at the wound that would leave a scar, despite her Slayer healing powers and her new immortality. He chastised himself for taking too much blood as her pulse slowed, but still he reveled in the knowledge that doing so had not put her in danger.

Angelus smiled a feral smile as he rolled to his side, tucking Buffy against him tightly as he closed his eyes.

– – – – –

Angelus’ head came up with a jerk just as the door to the apartment flew open with a loud bang. He sat up on the bed, one arm still around Buffy, her slight form wrapped in the crimson bed sheet. A darker blood stain marred the front, one of the few signs of what had taken place earlier.

Giles stood in the doorway, a lethal looking crossbow aimed at them. Jenny stood behind him, holding up a wooden cross. After he had managed to knock out the men from the Council, he and Jenny had gone to Buffy’s house. Finding her missing, they had come straight here to Angelus’ apartment.

“Get out.” The dark eyed vampire said coldly, instinctively drawing his mate protectively closer. “Or I will kill you and your woman.”

With a shrewd observant gaze, Giles took in the scene in front of him. The magic potions, the candles, the smell of the herbs. he suspected was too late. He looked quickly back at Buffy, noting her apparently health as well as the dark stain on the sheet and the bloody knife.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” The Watcher asked Angelus coldly.

“Yes.” The vampire replied arrogantly. Unconcerned about his own nudity, Angelus rose from the bed and retrieved his leather pants from the floor. He pulled them on then turned back to the bed, ensuring that Buffy was carefully covered.

“Buffy? Do you know what he’s done to you?”  Giles asked, turning his attention her but kept watch on Angelus’ movements out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” Buffy sighed tiredly. She hadn’t wanted Giles to find out about her relationship with Angelus this way, nor was she prepared to deal with him right now. With a frustrated tone, she replied. “Yes, I know. I’m immortal now. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Did he tell you all of it?” The Watcher questioned sternly. “Did he tell you that you are now bound to him? You are only immortal only as long as he is… alive, if you can call it that.  He dies, you die.”

“Oh.” The small surprised sound escaped her lips and she turned her green eyed gaze to Angelus, who appeared to be unconcerned.  In fact, the vampire snorted derisively. He sat on the bed next to Buffy and took her hand.

“Don’t worry, lover. I have no intention of leaving you alone.” The vampire lifted her hand and kissed it, his dark eyes intent on Giles, his gaze mocking.

The Watcher’s shoulders sagged and he released a resigned sigh. “The Council is searching for you. They will find you.”

“So, I’m a better Slayer now. Demons, vampires… they can’t kill me. The Council should be happy.” Buffy said with a shrug.

“You don’t understand Buffy. You are a disgrace to the Council.” The Sunnydale high librarian stated bluntly. “It’s a shame to them that one of their Slayers has taken up with a Master Vampire. They are looking for you and to kill Angelus.  That will kill you both.”

Angelus snarled angrily. “Let them try.”

Ignoring the vampire, Giles continued thoughtfully, “It’s better if you leave Sunnydale. I’ll inform the council that the Slayer has died, since well, technically you have, and they will call the next Slayer to watch over the Hellmouth.”

“I’m not going to run and hide from them.” In a fluid surge of power, Angelus came to his feet.

“No, I didn’t imagine you would.” The Watcher turned to the vampire angrily. “But I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Buffy. She may need some time to adjust to the- the… curse you have inflicted on her unwillingly. You have taken a young girl and make her life an abomination. In no way do I condone what you have done. In fact, the only thing that is stopping me from releasing this arrow into your heart is the fact that to do so I would kill the girl I love as my own daughter.”

“Giles-” Buffy warned, scooting quickly to the edge of the bed and clutching the sheet around her modestly as she rose to her feet.

Angelus moved so quickly, knocking the crossbow out of Giles’ hand and grabbing him by the throat that neither Watcher nor Slayer had seen him move. In a deceptively low, calm voice, he asked, “And why shouldn’t I kill you? You’re one of them.”

“Angelus.” Buffy pleaded, reaching up to grab his arm. Her strength was still formidable; more so perhaps now that it had returned.

Slowly Angelus relaxed his grip on the Watcher.

“I can’t guarantee that the Council won’t find out or come after you. But that will be something you’ll have to deal with. I suggest you keep a low profile.” Giles said, his eyes meeting Angelus’. In the few seconds that passed, the man and the demon seemed to reach some sort of accord.

“Get dressed.” Angelus barked at Buffy. “I need to talk to Giles.”

“You’re not going to… hurt him, are you?” She questioned softly, her gaze moving from one man to the other. “Because I can’t-”

“No. Just find something to wear. We’re leaving.” The dark eyed vampire replied impatiently, his hand at her back guiding her toward the large armoire that sat at one end of the room.

– – – – –

Buffy’s house was quiet, her mom sleeping soundly when they crept through her bedroom window. She was wearing only a large silk shirt that belong to Angelus, having no other clothes at his apartment since he had brought her there wearing only a blanket.

Moving quickly and silently, almost too afraid to stop and think about the dramatic changes that were suddenly taking place in her life, Buffy threw several favorite items of clothing and some necessities in her bag.

Angelus grunted softly, noticing the stuffed pink pig sticking partially out of the overstuffed bag.

“How is this going to work? You. Me. Us. How will we live?” Buffy whirled around to face her demon lover as he paced silently around her room. “I still can’t let you kill anyone.”

“Can’t?” He questioned with a slight lift of a brow. Despite his obsession with her, he was not to be commanded. She’d learn that soon enough; he would teach her. He smirked. Yes, he’d teach her – with a great deal of pleasure and, he suspected, some amount of pain. Still, something inside him responded to the hint of hysteria in her voice. He cupped her cheek in his palm, his thumb stroking the delicate bones in her face. “I’ll take care of you.”

Buffy’s eyes searched his for a few long seconds before she dropped her gaze and zipped up her bag. Despite her reservations and hesitation, this felt… right. Like it was what she was meant to do, what she had been born for. There was no doubt in her mind, she belonged with him.

“We’ll work something out.” The dark eyed vampire replied smoothly. He had no intention of giving up fresh blood or the thrill of the hunt and satisfaction of the kill but he’d find a way to compromise with her. He also knew that her Slayer nature would demand to be fulfilled. Like it or not, she would also need to hunt, to kill – almost as much as he did.

“So where are we going?” Buffy asked as she propped the neatly written note to her mother on the counter. After some consideration, she had simply written that she and Angel had made up and that she was running away with him. She used the excuse that she didn’t think anyone would accept them together given their age differences and she didn’t want to be subjected to their judgments and criticisms. She added a small post script at the bottom saying that she would write with her address once things were settled.

Behind Buffy’s back, Angelus pocketed the note. It would be better for Joyce to believe whatever story Giles deemed fit to tell. It was bad enough that the Watcher’s Council might be looking for them, he didn’t want Buffy’s mother contacting the authorities or trying to hunt them down. Not that he suspected she would given her past behavior, but he wasn’t one to leave loose ends.

“Well, my sweet,” Angelus purred softly reaching for Buffy’s hand as she closed the door behind them. “I’m going to show you the world.”

– – – – –

Hidden in the shadows, Giles watched from a distance until Buffy and Angelus disappeared into the darkness.

It was a sunny and beautiful Friday afternoon as Sunnydale High School mourned the loss of three more students.

The funeral services for Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris and Buffy Summers were held early in the afternoon. Classes were dismissed for the day, giving the students the time off to grieve for their friends and classmates.

The coroner’s report listed their deaths as a car accident, although no one seemed to know where the trio had gotten the car, who was driving or what exactly had happened. Not to mention the odd fact that not a single body of the three was recovered.

The morning after the funeral, Giles, with the help of Oz and Larry visited the factory. Druscilla and Spike were no match for the surprise attack just before dawn of the well armed and well prepared Watcher. He took out each of Angelus’ children with well aimed shots from a crossbow. As Druscilla’s ashes settled to the floor, Spike kept up his cocky and belligerent banter right until Giles shot him through the heart. The blonde vampire insisted lewdly that the young girl had asked to be turned… she had wanted to be a consort and slave to he and to Dru…

Oz, stoic and calm, was the one who took out Willow, driving the wooden stake through his girlfriend’s heart.

In a letter dated two days after the funeral, Giles reported to the Council that the Slayer had died and that the three vampires responsible for her death had been found at the Factory and eliminated.

The following day, the former Watcher packed his things and left Sunnydale as well. He has not been seen or heard from since, although it has been rumored that he and Jenny live just south of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

END.