Angel watched as Buffy and Faith, arms linked at the elbows, heads bowed together as if they were discussing the latest TV hunk, left to go do a little slaying.
He needed to kill something. It feels nice, just to feel. He wasn't lying with that statement, especially after spending time in Hell where emotions were a ticket straight to the old torture chamber. It didn't mean that he didn't need to work off his frustrations somehow. A cold shower wouldn't cut it. Maybe a jump into the Arctic Ocean would cool his raging libido. But since that wasn't an option, he'd just go make Sunnydale a little bit safer.
Within ten minutes, he knew he wasn't going to find anything to kill tonight. If he hadn't known better, he would have said it was some sort of vampire holiday. The truth was, something big was on the horizon and the underworld was keeping a low profile. He should just go back to the mansion and call it a night. It wasn't like he wasn't already becoming increasingly familiar with his hand.
Instead he wandered the streets for a little while. Just strolling, he told himself, but he knew exactly where he was heading.
He hadn't been back here in over a year, but he easily climbed the tree as if he'd been there only yesterday. From his vantage point, it seemed as if nothing in her bedroom had changed. If only surface appearances had something to do with reality, but he knew better.
Buffy was sleeping, back towards him. Knowing she was here, safe from the cares of the world, he relaxed a bit. He could go home now, feeling a little better about things.
At that moment, she turned toward him, moonlight making her opened eyes seem luminescent. She smiled and, sitting up, crooked a finger at him and then held it against her lips. Silently he crept into her room.
He shouldn't be here. She was wearing a silky tank top that made him remember exactly how she felt under his hands. His cock felt heavy in his pants. He stayed leaning against the window, arms folded across his chest.
"Faith and I ran into a demon tonight that was a walking ad for always using sunscreen. I thought demons were all kill, crush, destroy but this one was more give me money so I can buy that condo I've been looking at."
Angel shrugged. "Not all demons are dedicated to the eradication of life." Off of Buffy's look, he clarified. "A lot of demons go by the 'live and let live' motto. They try to stay under the radar."
"Well, this one deliberately flew straight into my combat zone. He was trying to sell me a book. Book of Ascension?"
"Doesn't sound familiar, but it doesn't sound good. You better tell Giles about it tomorrow."
"Planning on it."
That was his cue to go. He started to turn. Once upon a time they had talked about all manner of things, hopes and fears and dreams, their day-to-day lives and the lives they wished they had. Now they mostly stuck to shop talk. It was safer that way and safer was the hallmark of their current relationship.
"Angel?" Her voice stopped him in his tracks. "I can't stop thinking about the movie."
Out of all the conversations that they shouldn't be having, discussing a soft porn flick was right up there. Especially when she was underdressed and he was in her bedroom.
"That scene where Celeste had her legs kind of over her head and Marcel was sort of bent double – is that even possible?"
Angel almost laughed in relief. "Probably, if you're very limber." Definitely, he privately thought, but his and Darla's past was never getting discussed.
"I keep thinking about you touching me."
The chuckle was now dead in his throat. "Buffy." He said her name, half pleading, half warning.
Her feet were planted firmly on the mattress, her sleep shorts riding high on her thighs. She didn't respond to Angel's plea; instead she affixed him with the same look she gave to vampires right before she plunged a stake into their hearts. The index finger on her right hand slowly trailed up her thigh until it disappeared into the leg opening.
Angel's mouth went dry but he didn't look away. He swallowed thickly as his eyes tracked the outline of her knuckles underneath her silky pajama bottoms, moving down the center of her sex. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak.
Buffy lifted her head slightly, catching Angel's gaze. Her hand stilled as she bit her lip. "Is this ok?"
She was strong all the time. Confident, sure-of-herself Buffy Summers. That she was allowing herself to be this vulnerable around him was breath taking. Plus a huge turn on.
"Slow," he hoarsely commanded. "Go slow".
She groaned but obeyed, flingers dragging over hidden flesh.
He knew they were in dangerous territory, but he no longer cared. She was perfect in her burgeoning arousal and he wanted more. "Take off your shorts. I want to see."
Her checks flushed and he thought she wasn't going to obey. Leaning back on her elbows, she lifted her head, eyes so darkened with lust that they appeared to be black in color. "I want you all the time," she whispered. "So much."
She lifted her ass off the mattress and shimmied out of her bottoms. Her smell was juicy, completely enveloping him, like a summer-ripened fruit. Her legs splayed open.
She had a pretty cunt, he thought. With every slide of her fingers, her flesh became more swollen, more inviting. There was nothing more he wanted than to touch her, lick her, fuck her. It was almost unbearable being this close and not being allowed to have her.
"Want you to fuck yourself with two fingers, pretend it's my cock filling you up, making you feel good."
She pushed two fingers deep inside and began to pump in and out.
"Tell me." There was a hint of begging in his voice.
"So wet, Angel, I'm so wet." She was moving faster now, her hand glistening with her own juices. Angel thought he might come just from watching her. She stiffened and then cried out, skin flushed pink as her orgasm swept through her.
As her heart rate slowed, she caught Angel's eye. "Do you think about me touching you?"
"Always, " he whispered.
It only took a minute for him to shuck off his clothes. He had never been ashamed of his body; if that was vanity so be it. He liked the way Buffy was looking at him, pupils dialated.
He strode over to her dresser and poured some hand lotion into his right hand and then turned back until he was standing at the foot of her bed. Only inches separated them, his hard cock standing out from his body.
Her breathing had quickened again, the tip of her tongue darting out between her lips. "Slow," she said, echoing his earlier demand.
Angel knew that she had never seen a man touch himself. The one time they had been together, he had undressed under the covers, so even his nudity was new to her. There was no shyness in her demeanor however, and it made him want her even more.
He wrapped his slicked hand loosely around the base, letting his fingers glide over his cock with a feather light touch. He was almost quivering with need; he had been in various states of arousal for hours. Darla had trained him well, however, and he knew he could hold off for a little while longer.
He watched Buffy staring at him as he stroked himself. Her fingers were unconsciously twisting the sheets, drops of perspiration standing out on her skin. He longed to lick every drop of sweat from her body until she was begging for him to taste her. He knew exactly how her fingers wrapped around a stake, he almost groaned aloud at the thought of those powerful fingers wrapped around him.
"Need you to touch yourself, baby. Make me even harder." His voice was heavy with want.
He knelt between her parted legs, cock inches above her body, a divining rod made of flesh. He could feel the heat of her body seeping through his skin.
Her fingers skimmed over her secret places, stopping at her clit. She ground against it, mewls of pleasure the only sound she made. Angel stroked himself in time with Buffy's movements, slippery fingers starting to tighten around his shaft. "Don't close your eyes," he gasped.
"I won't. Want to watch you." She was touching herself more firmly now, her eyes locked on his. She arched into her hand, her body jerking in pleasure as she called out his name
He came a moment later, his release coating her cunt, her thighs, the curve of her belly. His immediate thought as he looked at her was he liked the way she looked, covered in his come. Buffy was still gazing at him, and as their eyes locked, the need to touch her, to have her began to pull him under. And then, a second later, he thought what the fuck am I doing? as he hurled himself off the bed.
They kept their faces averted from each other as they quickly cleaned up and dressed. Angel came around the side of the bed, pressed a chaste kiss to Buffy's forehead and was gone before she could say a word.
He marched home, anger and relief warring within him. They had been fools and they had been incredibly lucky. Safe as houses His words from earlier in the evening mocked him. Only safe if you didn't invite the devil in.