The dimly lit library buzzed with tension as the slayer fought an unseen force in front of her. She swung her deceptively strong arms in arcs, throwing punches into the bag that she knew would knock the wind out of any man or demon in her way. She had been going for hours it seemed like; her forehead was damp causing her hair to stick to her face, probably making her look like a crazy person, but she didn’t care. All evening she had been restless, a tingling sensation at the base of her spine telling her that impending danger was afoot. She knew she had to let off some steam physically before she bit the heads off of her friends or watcher over their annoying habit of staring at her when she got like this. So she was a little moody, she thought, I’m the slayer and a teenager; I have every right to be moody!
Buffy spun her hips, bringing her foot up and in an upward kick sending the bag flying across the room and watching as it hit the wall so hard, a sickening crunch was heard. She could feel her heart pounding, her nerves already on edge and nearly jumped when she heard her watcher speak for the first time since she started wailing on the inanimate object.
“Now that you’ve successfully slayed that dead, cow hide, why don’t you join your friends working tirelessly to stop the next apocalypse,” Giles deadpanned, hoping his slayer had gotten whatever it was out of her system.
Buffy turned on her heel and huffed as she made her way to the table where her two best friends sat, their eyes looking everywhere but at her. Guilt instantly transformed her stern look into one of pout, knowing that her intense mood was not their fault. She knew that her sudden aggressiveness had her friends tide in knots and their worried expressions softened her.
She plopped herself in the hard, wooden chair across from her friends and gave them and her watcher an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry,” she said glumly, “I just have this nagging feeling that something not of the good variety is lurking about and it’s giving me the wiggins!” She looked at their faces hoping to see some understanding allowing them to give her some benefit of the doubt. She groaned, seeing Giles’ look and leaned back in her chair, preparing herself for a stern talking to.
Giles sighed seeing his slayer in emotional turmoil. He began by taking his glasses off the bridge of his nose and using the bottom of his tweed sweatshirt to clean them off, a sign he was in deep thought.
“Buffy,” he began, a tone of sympathy clinging to his words, “You are the slayer, one that is charged with protecting this particular Hellmouth, no less.” He continued, silencing her opened mouth with his hand held up, “I think it goes without saying that you may experience the wiggins, as you so put it, from time to time. This is nothing more than your slayer’s instincts being in tune with the supernatural forces surrounding us.”
“Maybe,” Buffy whimpered, sliding down further into her chair, “But I can’t help but feel that something else is going on here, Giles.” She dared a glance across the table, desperately trying to shake them out of their unfamiliar silence, asking for her two best friends to help her out.
Willow, always one to help a friend, smiled comfortingly towards her friend, “I believe you, Buffy,” she stated, matter-of-factly. “After all, how many times has your instincts been wrong before?” she offered, helpfully, turning to Giles with a look of pleading in her own eyes.
“Dead Boy comes to mind,” a male voice said glumly. All three sets of eyes snapped to Xander. He shrugged, “What? I said it.” He glanced at Buffy with an apologetic look of his own before looking elsewhere.
Buffy held up her hand, before Giles or Willow could reprimand Xander for bringing up Buffy’s former boyfriend, turned arch nemesis, turned… well, she didn’t really know anymore. She sighed, a mix of emotions buzzing around in her head once more.
Angel was living in Los Angeles now, keeping his distance from her. A part of her ached with needing him here with her, but another part of her was relieved that she didn’t have to constantly be reminded that their love was over, that she could never accept the real him like she knew he needed from her if their love was too survive. But she just couldn’t, slayer’s instincts aside, Buffy could not get past the horrors Angelus had brought upon her and her friends and a part of her knew that Angel could never give her a normal life.
“Xander’s right,” she said meekly, “I made a huge mistake in trusting someone I barely knew.” She glanced at her watcher, his eyes not meeting her’s, knowing exactly what she was going to say next. “And that mistake cost us a lot.”
There was a heavy silence between the four people, lost in thought as the past dredged up painful memories no one wanted to recount.
“Yes, well, I suppose we better just call it a night and pick up tomorrow morning,” Giles said after clearing his throat. Buffy didn’t miss the slight catch in his throat, no doubted being reminded of all that he had lost because of her.
“Ya, I suppose,” she moved to gather her things when the doors of the library burst open, two men and a woman barreling towards them. Without registering who they were, Buffy went into slayer mode, knocking the chair she had been sitting on back sending it crashing to the floor. She had a stake in her hand and was about to let it loose, when her heightened instincts finally allowed her to realize that the two men in front of her were familiar, actually one more than the other.
“Wesley?” Giles said, the first one to speak from the group after seeing the ex-watcher in his bruised and disheveled appearance, the black man behind him, with a cut on his cheek and the timid looking girl behind him- wide eyed and trembling.
Wesley ignored the watcher’s questioning tone of his name honed in on the slayer in front of him, his eyes washed with worry, fear and helplessness.
“Buffy, we need your help,” his voice croaked, strangling to keep even above his hysteria.
“My help?” she said, a little confused, “Why do you need my help.” She relaxed her stance, bringing the stake down to her side and rested her hip on the table beside her.
Wesley smoothed his features and closed his eyes, willing his nerves to calm down, “Angelus.”
The room was deadly silent, not a sound was heard for what seemed like forever. Buffy’s heart lept into her throat, possibly the only thing stifling the sobs threatening to escape.
“What?” Buffy whispered almost inaudibly, her hand started to shake, the growing terror in her almost threatening to send her running far, far away.
“He’s back,” is all Wesley could get out, he slumped in a chair beside him and threw his face in his hands. Desperately he tried to hold the sobs beneath him, not wanting to show even the slightest amount of weakness in front of this group. He felt Gunn rest his strong hand on his shoulder in support as Fred wrapped her arms around his thin frame. They sat like that for a minute, forgetting about the others in the library and just took solace in each other’s company.
“Hey, where’s Cordy?” asked Xander, looking around the room, stunned that he hadn’t seen her come in. He looked back at the group, their eyes growing terrified and unable to make eye contact with him. He gulped and felt the rustiness, as his throat was suddenly very dry.
“Angelus has her,” was all Wesley could say before the sobs overtook him.
A flash of light. Screaming. Glass breaking. Cordelia fought the sleep dragging her mind under again and again, but her mind was trapped in replying the last moments she had been awake before she had been consumed by the darkness. She felt the band of iron steel wrapping around her waist, pulling her thrush against a hard body, the maniacal laughter at her desperate attempts to get away.
Her heart began pounding in her ears as she clawed at her captor, trying desperately to get to her family, but the arms slowly dragged her away, her yells being lost in the chaos before her.
In one last effort to free herself, she fought against her attacker, swinging her arms and legs out. The laugher stopped as the arms brought her facing her captor, his face that of an angel’s but with malice behind his cold, brown eyes.
“Hello, beautiful. Did you miss me?” he said, grinning from ear to ear as her eyes grew wide with recognition and fear. Before she could strike out at him, she felt an intense pressure on her shoulder from two of his strong fingers and she felt herself falling into his broad chest, hurtling towards darkness.
Cordelia gasped awake, praying that the images behind her eyelids were just that- images. She was briefly relieved when she realized she was in bed, but what made her nauseous was the unfamiliarity of the bed, suddenly all to aware of her naked body against the cotton sheets beneath her. Her instincts dialed to flight, she immediately sought solid ground, but her stomach lurched in fear when she realized she was bound to the bed. She looked the bonds and noticed that a silk, maroon slip had been neatly tied around her small wrists and knew that there was a matching slip of silk at her ankles. She huffed; it was just her luck to get in the middle of someone’s crazy fantasy. The realization of her predicament only caused her to cry out in fear, but her scream was muffled by the thick rag placed between her teeth anchored behind her head.
She quickly turned her head from side to side, desperately trying to pinpoint where she was, but her surroundings were unfamiliar. A feeling of dread passed over her as her nightmares once again flitted across her mind. She shoved any thought of him to the recesses of her mind, not wanting her worst fears to cloud her judgment of the situation.
She stilled her breathing a fraction and looked around her. She was in a room, lightly furnished with mahogany wood, a fireplace roaring in the corner. The fireplace was perhaps the only thing keeping her from shivering against the cool night air seeping past the open window. Where the hell was she? Who had brought her here? She shivered, resigning herself to escape first and ask questions later.
She could feel her chest heaving as she tried to pull as much air into her lungs as possible, her fear only increasing with each breath. She yanked against her restraints and yelped when they only tightened against her already raw wrists and ankles. She immediately stilled when she heard a rough, deep laugh coming from across the room.
She slowly lifted up her head, her eyes wide with horror, knowing that deep, masculine voice anywhere. It was him.
“Going somewhere?” he said, a smirk playing across his angelic features as he sat forward lazily in his chair. He watched her, amusingly, as she took up her futile attempt to get out of her restraints. He had her trapped right where he wanted her, at his mercy, and they both knew it. He allowed her to struggle for a couple of long seconds, enjoying her wiggling, naked body sliding over his bed, feeling his groin twitch with arousal.
He took a deep unneeded breath, allowing her fear to wash over him, basking in his love for a woman’s terror when she knew she couldn’t escape him. Her blood would be pumping furiously beneath her soft skin, pouring into his mouth once he bit into her pliant flesh the second he was done using and abusing her body for his entertainment. But this woman was different, he thought, she was his.
He rose from the chair slowly and made his way to the frightened, little doe in his bed almost said that his chase of her had been so easy. He momentarily let his mind go wondering on how delicious the chase would be, but he had to stop before he got any bright idea. It would be just like him to deviate from his plans and ruin everything.
Her body stilled, when she felt the prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck signaling his approach. Her head snapped in his direction, her eyes growing wide with alarm as he slid his body onto the bed next to her’s. He stretched his long, broad frame next to her’s, lying on his side so he could better face her. His face mere inches from her’s, his eyes staring back at her. She gulped.
He smiled showing his perfectly white teeth and brought his right hand over her stomach. His cold touch on her abdomen made her jerk, her muscles twitching under his caresses. She tried to move from underneath his hand, to dislodge it from her nakedness, but her attempts were fruitless, they only served to amuse him more.
He languidly rubbed her stomach in slow circles, teasing her naval with his index finger, delighted in the shiver he saw race up her spine. His eyes glittered with lust as he let his hand slide a little further down her stomach to the top of her soft, feminine mound.
Cordy gasped. “No!” she pleaded like a mantra spilling out her mouth, through the gag as his hand slid even further. She squeezed eyes shut against his probing fingers.
He chuckled, “You can’t stop me, can you, my little lamb?” He slowly smoothed the tips of his fingers up and down her labia, teasing her senselessly. He felt the twitching of her groin, traitorously revealing her arousal and the whimpers escaping her lips were not left unheard.
She opened her eyes and pleaded with him to stop, her voice unable to find a single syllable around her moans and whimpering. He continued his torment, finding her clitoris with his index finger. He flicked the little nub and watched as her whole body strained against her bonds and little squeals sounded from her beautifully, gagged lips.
He let his index finger graze her clit, watching her through hooded eyes as she shook beneath him, her eyes rolling back into her head. The smell of her fear was quickly being replaced by her involuntary arousal. He licked his lips as he let his eyes roam over the beauty beneath him, her toned skin the perfect contrast to his white pallor. How great would they look, her withering body beneath his, he thought to himself. He let his eyes travel over her pert and aroused nipples, standing at attention atop her perfectly rounded breasts.
His free arm that had held his head up was now being pulled to grasp the tiny nipples beneath his fingers, feeling their hardness beneath his fingers made his own body shake in want. He plucked her right nipple in his fingers as he added another finger in between her thighs to terrorize her clit. She bucked against him, her breasts digging into the palm of his hand and he let out a slow purr, his hands working her lithe body beneath him, as one would stroke the burning embers into a roaring fire.
Cordelia’s mind was buzzing with arousal, her need to escape slowly being overtaken with her need for him to finish her off. She felt the heat swelling within her and begged for release. All that would pass through her lips were gasps and little squeals as her climax beat a steady drum within her.
“That’s it, baby,” he said huskily, “Cum for me.”
With a final gasp, Cordelia lifted her body completely off the bed, as far as her restraints would let her and squealed as she felt her orgasm ripple through her- from the top of her head to her inwardly curled toes. She collapsed on the bed, her body shaking with the fire still inside her and almost moaned in desperation when Angelus slid his now moist fingers from between her thighs.
“Beautiful,” he said replacing his hand to it’s former position on her stomach, teasing her naval with his slickened hand.
Cordelia felt her mind clear as she realized what had just taken place. She strained away from his hand as the sobs were pulled from her throat, desperate to get as far away from the demon with her best friend’s face as she possibly could, but his strong hold on her kept her in place.
“Oh no, Cordelia, you’re not going anywhere,” he said in a slightly commanding tone, using his hand to tilt her chin so she was forced to look at him. He looked into her eyes and saw fear, slight disgust, but what was the most interesting was the little flash of curiosity that hid in the depths of her hazel orbs.
“That’s right, Cordy, you’re mine now,” he smiled placing a wet kiss on her forehead causing her to shiver “and I’m never gonna let you go, baby.” Cordy just watched him as he backed away from her and slid off the bed, never taking his eyes off of her’s. Her heart was pounding in her throat causing her mouth to suddenly dry up, nothing but puffs of air escaping around the gag.
Angelus turned and stalked back to his chair, picking up the familiar black duster and threw it on, picking up the keys to Angel’s car and turned to give the naked woman in his bed one last look before leaving.
“I’ll be back beautiful, but not before I’ve had my fill of a couple of locals,” he winked adding, “And then we can discuss us.” A thrill of pleasure running down his spine as he watched her eyes narrow at him as his meaning dawned on her beautiful face. When she looked back at him, the shiver returned, seeing the look of determination settle on her face in disagreement. Women, he mused, such irritatingly independent and headstrong. That’s what made this so fun, seeing her all riled up, trapped in his bed, forced to wait for his return. She’d learn to love him just as much as he loved her. Ya, he said it, shaking himself as he turned towards the door, not wanting her to see the emotions playing on his face. The beautiful temptress had had the soul wrapped around her coy, little finger and in the process had gained an even darker admirer- his demon.