Buffy wasn’t stopped.
From the moment she entered Los Angeles she had sensed
dozens of demons but not one had come out to play. It was like they were giving
her some kind of freedom in the city; or more likely, she thought, they were
giving her safe passage because that’s what their master wanted.
Angelus wanted her all to himself, and, with one or two
exceptions all coincidently connected with her, he always got what he wanted. So
this total lack of a welcoming committee was just fine with her, Buffy had
enough to think on without having to fight her way through hoards of demons all
out for her blood.
Her blood, for its part, called out for her mate. At this
point Buffy wasn’t sure who exactly that was, Angel or Angelus. All she knew
was that while she may have loved the soul, she craved the demon every bit as
much. And hadn’t he proven that when he invaded her dreams?
Buffy had willingly succumbed to his seduction and hadn’t
cared one damn bit that it was the demon rather than soul. She knew the
difference and wanted it, wanted him. Could she be so shallow as to simply want
the body? No, that wasn’t it, she acknowledged as she walked through the
darkened streets, senses alert even though it seemed she was truly going to be
left alone.
So what was it then? When she had first met Angelus he had
ridiculed her, belittled her sexual experience with Angel the previous night and
mocked her to the point of tears. It seemed that, soul or demon, he was the only
one to ever make her cry.
But then it seemed as if he was…courting her. The gifts,
while not normal beau presents, were as much a symbol of his affection as the
claddagh ring Angel had given her on her birthday. Angelus wanted her but on his
terms; yes, that was true. But it was something else, too, something more. Buffy
paused in the middle of the deserted sidewalk as the thought struck her.
Admittedly she had never really thought about it before, at
first it was too painful then Angel was back and they never – never
– talked about those months.
Angelus loved her. Okay, maybe it was nearly impossibly for a soulless demon to
love, but Spike was a prime example of that not always being the case. And maybe
there really was a small part of Angel’s soul that had changed the demon, made
it possible to truly love her. Obsession clearly played a part in Angelus’
courtship, he was obsessed to the point of madness, wanted to possess her in
every way imaginable and the only way he knew how to do so was to break her.
Buffy laughed and resumed her walking, duffel bag thrown
over her shoulder. Why had she never seen it before? Because she hadn’t
realized the very fine line separating not only soul and demon but her feelings
for both of them.
And wouldn’t it be interesting to explore those feelings?
Wait a minute, what the hell was she thinking? Play along with Angelus, go a few
rounds…what she wouldn’t give to go a few rounds with him preferably with a
nice big bed, no clothing, and as much time as she wanted to explore that
gorgeous body of his.
Whoa, Buffy, calm down girl, she thought to herself even
though there was a rather large anticipatory smile on her face. Thinking like
that will get you nowhere…except, of course, some intense satisfaction.
Okay, enough of that. She was on a mission, she had to
remember that. But the mental images of she and Angelus (Angel) just wouldn’t
go away. Well, first step first; she had to find him, didn’t she?
So where did one being one’s search for the Master of Los
Angeles? Or Los Angelus as she had
seen one sign say. Clever, really; her demon certainly took his new role
seriously, didn’t he?
Her demon? She was losing it, she certainly was. Shaking
her head once more at her own thoughts, Buffy continued on her path.
With no other ideas on where to start, Buffy now stood
outside the Hyperion Hotel. It was huge, a sprawling structure that took up at
least half a block. He wasn’t going to stay there; she knew that before she
even decided to look there. But something pulled her, called to her, made her
blood scream and her soul ache. Told her that this was as good a place as any to
begin.
Walking inside the wide glass doors, Buffy’s breath caught. The lobby had been completely transformed. While she had no idea what it had looked like before this moment, she was fairly sure that it wasn’t even remotely this.
Dark red roses littered every surface, some in vases and
some lying across flat surfaces, the floor was covered with petals and Buffy
felt the absurd urge to take her shoes and socks off, letting the softness of
the flower petals caress her bare feet – or her naked body as Angelus leaned
over her. She banished those images and resisted the urge to indulge herself and
instead walked slowly into the room.
The fragrance was overwhelming, just shy of too much and
Buffy caught herself breathing in deeply, a smile on her lips. Candlelight
encased the room in a soft romantic glow, flickering shadows along walls and
ceiling and low soft music echoed from somewhere. In the center of the room was
a table; it was set for two, ornate wine glasses, fine bone china, and the
delicious aroma of perfectly cooked food.
Buffy took a step closer, senses screaming as she looked
around the obviously staged room. She knew Angelus was there, waiting for her
despite her earlier knowledge that he wasn’t staying here. How did he know she
was coming to the hotel, first?
‘Blood screaming to
blood, mate crying out for mate.’ Buffy was unsure where that thought had
come from but it seemed true enough.
“Very nice, Angelus,” Buffy said as she turned to the
left, eyes automatically meeting his.
An eyebrow winged upwards, a smirk crossing his features as
he stepped out of the shadows. “That’s all you have to say, lover, very
nice?” He took a few steps forward until he stood less than a foot from Buffy.
“Somehow I was expecting more.”
“Disappointed? What did you want me to say? Or,” She
added with a smirk of her own and a sensuous lick of her lips, “What did you
expect me to do?”
“Oh, Buffy,” Angelus whispered as he leaned down to
brush his lips over hers, his eyes still holding hers, a sensuous spark lighting
them. “It’s not what I expected you
to do; it’s what you are trying not to do. That makes things more interesting, don’t you think?”
Taking a deep breath at the crock of her neck, he laved the
mark found there with his tongue, smiling at her shiver of response. Her scent
was different, and again Angelus was struck with the thought that it as more.
But more of what? Placing one soft kiss on his mark, he straightened.
“Hungry, baby?” He asked, fully aware of the double
entendre of his word.
Buffy swallowed and forced her senses to calm. Maybe she
should have looked into this Slayer Binding Spell a bit more before doing it;
she was so much more aware of him now than she had been, even before – and
that was saying something. And she was having a harder time reigning in her
feelings; feelings which told her to damn the consequences, screw the plan, and
take what – or in this case whom – she wanted and never let him go.
To hell with everything and everyone else.
“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” Buffy managed,
turning a smile of her own in his direction, eyes sparkling with secrets. “I
wouldn’t want to ruin any of your oh so careful planning.”
He led her to the table, holding out the chair as she sat,
placing a kiss on her bare shoulder as he pushed the chair in. Pouring them each
a glass of red wine, Angelus raised his flute and said, “To eternal
possibilities, to giving into one’s passions and to embracing one’s
desires.”
Buffy clinked their glasses and sipped from it, keeping her
eyes locked with his laughing and still lustful ones. “Going to wine and dine
me, lover?” She asked with forced calm; Angelus was, without a doubt, the best
at setting the stage to suit his needs. “And here I thought that your new
master wanted me out of the way.”
“Eat, Buffy,” Angelus said, “You’re entirely too
skinny.” He finished, ignoring her statement even though he vehemently wanted
to deny it, “I promise nothing’s drugged.”
“Drugged?” She laughed then, a tinkling sound that
brought an answering smile to his lips. “Really, Angelus, give me a little
more credit than that; drugging me so isn’t your style. Your master’s
possibly, but certainly not yours.”
Watching her intently as she nibbled on lobster tail and
filet minion, her tongue slowly licking her lips, her eyes closing in deliberate
and passionate delight, Angelus shook his head. “You should know me better
than that, baby. I take orders from no one and the First? It has some
interesting plans, a few good minions, but nothing else, really. Certainly
nothing over me.”
Settling back in his chair as Buffy continued to eat
savoring every morsel as if each was its very own desire, Angelus smirked again.
“Why come all this way, lover? If you wanted to join me all you had to do was
say so. You know,” he said, dropping his voice to a husky whisper, “That I
would have been more than happy to accommodate you.”
Taking another small sip of her wine Buffy ran her tongue
over her lips and smirked again as Angelus’ eyes darkened further with
passion. “You can’t take me, Angelus, and you know that. No matter what was
done to you, no matter what rebirthing the Turok-Han did to you before I kicked
its ass, you will never be able to defeat me.”
“Oh I don’t know about that, baby; you didn’t mind me
taking you the other night. As I recall, you were a willing participant; begging
me for more, screaming out my name, demanding that I drink from you.”
Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes from his mesmerizing ones
even as her blood began to race, her skin to tingle, and her womb to clench in
need. Swallowing, though Buffy was unsure if it was from his words or merely
part of her digestive process, she said, “As you said, a willing participant.
Equal partners, Angelus, there was no domination.”
Now there was a thought, chains, whips, all that cool,
smooth flesh to feast on…
Angelus leaned forward then, capturing Buffy’s chin with
steel fingers. “Who says I want to defeat you, lover?”
As calmly as she could Buffy dispelled the images of naked
Angelus and smiled again. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” She
asked with her newfound knowledge of both Angel and Angelus. “Defeat me,
subjugate me, dominate me until all I knew was you? Then turn me?”
Releasing her chin only to move his large hand over her
cheek, down to curl gently around her neck, Angelus said, “I don’t know,
Buff; I do have an interesting fantasy now that you mention it involving you and
chains and my bed, so I’m not completely dismissing it.”
He laughed at the spark of acknowledgement in her eyes but
didn’t call her on it. Not yet at least. “Generally, however, I don’t have
to tie women up to have them and I think our first time I’d prefer you wearing
nothing but me.”
When she didn’t say anything to that, simply kept
watching him with those hazel eyes dark with her own passion and fantasies,
Angelus answered her question honestly, “Yes. But what’s the point in
defeating you to the point of death when eternal life will be so much better
with you by my side? And in my bed? Screaming my name as you come with no
thought to propriety, or what’s right and wrong in a world that doesn’t care
one whit about you.”
Pushing her chair back from the table, no longer hungry
with this truth between them, Buffy stood on legs that wanted badly to shake,
staring down at a still smirking Angelus. “Not going to happen, lover, turning
me isn’t an option.”
“You think so? Somehow, love, I don’t think you’re
right.” He stood then, too, as if sensing that Buffy really wanted to fight
now. Angelus, however, had other plans for this, their first non-dream meeting
in entirely too long.
Stalking the few steps to her he watched her tense,
preparing for an attack. An attack which never came.
“I want to hear you scream, Buffy,” he said, passion
and honesty ringing in his words, his fingers running lightly over her bare
arms. “Scream my name as my fangs and my cock sink into your waiting and eager
body, scream because you know nothing other than my touch, my scent, my taste.
Want nothing else. When I first came back, in Sunnydale, do you know what I
wanted to do to your near virgin body?” He continued as they stood there in
the middle of the room, candle light flickering over them, music embracing them
in their own passionate, needy web. His unneeded breath lightly caressed her
cheek as his soft sexy lips brushed over her face.
“Do you know how many times I wanted to take you in the
cemetery or in your schoolgirl bed, your mother just down the hall? To tease
your nipples as they strained for my touch, taste your skin that beaded with
sweat just for me. Breathe in the scent of your heady juices as they ran down
your leg and you begged me to end the sweet torture and take you, just take,
you, hard and fast, as I pound into your lithe body. Or slow, drawing our
pleasure out for hours as we satisfy ever desire we could possibly think to
indulge in. Make you mine, my love.”
Lips caressed hers once more, but not enough to satisfy her
yearning and she whimpered in protest as he spoke again, leaving her mouth
feeling bereft, her body straining to feel his cool touch more fully upon her
heated flesh. Buffy’s breathing was harsh, her heart pounded in her chest but
all she knew was the demon, the lover before her.
“You were the only thing I ever thought about, nothing
and no one could force you from my mind, force the feel of your body from my
senses. I wanted you more than I wanted my next meal, more than I wanted to rule
the world or all the other things vampires are supposed to want. All I wanted
was you.”
Again he ran his tongue lightly over her lips, tracing
their outline as if to convey the sincerity of his feelings when she could hear
it, feel it with every word.
“All these years forced to live beneath the stupidity of
Angel as he went about his pathetic excuse for a life. He tried to forget you
just as you seemed to him, tried to move on with that bitch seer, tried to
convince himself he was in love with her. But we both know,” he whispered in
her ear, causing her to shiver with want, “Don’t we lover, that there was
only ever you. Only ever us. He wanted another, or tried to…I never did.”
Buffy’s eyes had drifted closed as he told her his story.
Yes, she thought as she had before, Angel had betrayed her with another, not in
the flesh, for that was almost unimportant. She had betrayed him in the flesh,
with Parker, Riley, Spike. But she had never felt for another a tenth of what
she felt for him. No, her betrayal was only in the flesh.
But his was in the emotion. A niggling voice reminded her
of Riley and her lie to Angel that she loved him. Granted Buffy had some genuine
feelings for the soldier, but she shook them away, knowing that though she cared
deeply for him she had never loved Riley.
“You are my mate, my lover, my equal, Buffy,” Angelus
continued, hands still caressing, lips still exploring. “That mark is mine.
Mine because I never betrayed you, never left you, and never wanted another but
you. You are mine, lover, and there is nothing to stop us this time.”
Buffy shivered in response but still remained quiet, caught
in his web of words and feelings, caresses and needs.
“Do you know,” he added as if he could read her
thoughts, “What I wanted to do to that pathetic excuse for a soldier boy? He
had dared to touch what was mine, dared to touch my mate and try to claim you as
his. The soul let you have him though he was seething with jealously and hatred
and rage as well. I wanted to dismember him as slowly as I could manage, then
return to you, his blood fresh on my hands. You would still have wanted me,
lover,” he said with surety. “And don’t you think otherwise.”
They were moving in a slow dance, not so much to the music
that surrounded them as to their own bodies’ desires. “Yes,” Buffy said,
or did she just think that? She couldn’t be sure, but she was sure that
Angelus knew her answer anyway.
“If I had had the chance, my love, I would have done the
same to Angel, taken him apart limb by limb for hurting you that way. For
walking away for leaving you once more. And for leaving you to Spike. But
we’ll get to him later, baby; and you’ll truly learn what it means to be the
bound mate to a master vampire.”
His hands entwined with hers and he brought her left hand
to his lips, brushing a kiss over the ring there as it sparkled in the
candlelight. His own claddagh flashing as well, catching her eye, causing her
breath to catch as the implications registered. Bound, joined, by blood and
flesh and symbols.
And love…
“You bear my mark and wear my ring, love, mine.
It means we are one, bound together through eternity and beyond, there is
nothing that can separate us. Not ever again.”
Buffy opened her eyes, her limbs heavy with passion and need, her heart beating franticly and her body craving his. She wanted nothing more than to open herself up and let him take her, let him make good on all his promises and know that he meant them, meant every word he spoke.
“And I will have that, my
love, I will have you.”
He grabbed Buffy by her shoulders with those final words,
crushing her lips beneath a passionate onslaught that she returned with equal
fervor. Her moan of need was swallowed by his mouth and he pulled her flush
against his painfully aroused body.
This, he thought when Buffy’s hot hands cupped his face,
moved to the back of his neck holding him closer, this was what had been missing
from his life. His mate, the other half of himself, fucked-up soul or no.
Walking her back a few steps, Angelus lifted her up,
slamming her against one of the marble pillars. She was still so slight, so soft
that with his added strength it was easy to lift her high enough for his mouth
to explore. And explore he did, every inch of smooth skin; every taste was his
to have.
Angelus felt her hands grabbing hold of his shoulders as
his mouth followed the smooth column of her neck, stopping for indeterminable
moments to lavish her scar with attention. His nimble fingers quickly unfastened
the snap to her tight leather pants and, while he took a moment to admire her
taste in clothing, Angelus didn’t pause long enough to let Buffy regain her
senses.
Holding her steady with one hand, her own gripping his
shoulders as her body writhed beneath his, he shucked the offending material
down her hips just enough to allow his hand access to her heated core. Plunging
two fingers into her, then three, Angelus brought his mouth back to her waiting
lips. Moving quickly in and out of her as he added a fourth finger, Angelus
growled his frustration at his plan and forced himself to hold back.
No matter how much he wanted to thrust into her, no matter
how he wanted to feel those hot silken walls clench around his hard cock, this
wasn’t the time. There were stages to his seduction, and this was only the
first step.
“Please, Angelus, I need you in me,” Buffy whimpered,
begged, needed, but her demon refused.
“No matter how much I want to be wrapped inside of you,
baby.” He panted, still pumping his fingers in and out of her in a frenzy of
motion, “No matter how hard it makes me at the thought of those hot silken
walls of yours clenching around my hard cock, now isn’t the time. This
isn’t about fucking because we both know I could get that from anyone at any
time.” He told her, but continued before she could pull away, physically and
emotionally, “I could and have gotten that from others. But only with you
Buffy, my love, only with you do I want forever.”
Buffy understood then, as her body wound tighter and
tighter, her orgasm spiraling higher and further out of her control. This act
Angelus was doing for her, solely for her. A reminder that he wasn’t Angel and
had never willingly left her, was always for her, and always would be.
“If it had been my choice,” he added in a ragged voice,
“I would have never left you and you would be mine now.”
“Forever,” she agreed.
Devouring her mouth, reveling in her response, verbal and physical, in the fact that she held onto him as tightly as he held her, Angelus circled her clit with his thumb, thrusting his fingers again and again into her core, as her climax swept through her.
“Angelus!” She shouted his name, thighs clenching
around his arm, the force of her orgasm propelling them backwards onto the hard
floor. And still he didn’t stop. Another wave of pure pleasure raced through
her and she ground harder onto his hand, Angelus smiling in pure male
satisfaction at her almost incoherent cries of his name.
Bringing her slowly down, he kissed her once, softly and in
direct contrast to his earlier ravaging, and removed his hand. Angelus
couldn’t help but lick his fingers of her heady taste, but he resisted
chucking his plans and tasting her again. Pulling her pants up, he deftly
fastened them and stood her on her feet.
Through eyes that were still hazy with passion, Buffy
watched him. Smugness radiated out from his stance and she would have felt cheap
if not for the obvious bulge in his pants and wealth of emotion in his eyes.
Why, she wondered as Angelus took another minute to simply
watch her, couldn’t he have just taken her then and there? It wasn’t like
she had put up a lot – or any at all – resistance to him. Plus if he had
then the Essence Spell could have been completed immediately. If she had
remembered the words, which was doubtful at the moment.
Nothing in her life was ever simple.
Angelus cupped her face and kissed her before drawing away.
“Why do you so willingly serve a so-called power of light that has betrayed
you and Angel over and over again by keeping you apart? A power for good that is
just as ruthless and cruel as the dark with its warriors. A power never caring
how broken or bleeding or how heartbroken you are as long as you continue to
kill, on command, for them.”
His eyes, black with unfulfilled passion bore into her own,
and Buffy found herself still speechless. “Why do you do that to yourself,
love? Why when you could be with me forever, neither of us ever again dancing to
the tune of either side, or puppets ever again for anyone or anything. Just you
and I, together; forever taking care of our own wants and desires for
a change. Isn’t it about time – years past time – that you stop long
enough to remember that?
“Remember that you have needs, too, and I could very
willingly satisfy every single one of those. Ever single one no matter how large
or small. Unlike soul-boy, I don’t need someone to tell me who I am or who I
have hungered for ever day, every minute since the four years we’ve been
apart; and I won’t, ever, leave you.
This time it will take my ashes floating in the wind to keep me away from
you.”
So saying, Angelus turned around; as he walked out the door
he left her one more thing to think about, “Think on it, lover, and ask
yourself why you’re resisting.” At the doors he stopped, faced her.
“I’ll see you soon, my love.”
Buffy stood in the middle of the hotel a long while,
wondering not only at his words, but at his actions – or lack thereof. She had
no answers to any of the myriad questions that raced around her head. All she
knew was the semi-sated lust of her body and the longing in her heart.
Why hadn’t Angel ever pursued her with this much passion,
this much fervor? With this no holds barred pursuit that Angelus was doing?
Instead he threw everything they had ever had away for the sake of something
that to this day Buffy didn’t understand.
Firmly pushing these thoughts away, and for the most part
succeeding, she focused on the mater at hand. Find someplace – other than this
place – to crash, start searching for Angelus’ new digs and the rest of the
AI team.
And try not to think too much about what her demon lover had said.
And hope that her dreams, should she even be able to sleep, didn’t involve a certain demon and his magnificent body.
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