Bedtime Story


AUTHOR: SCORCH (aka JUDE)
SUMMARY: Angelus prefers to show rather than tell Cordelia
RATING: NC17
POSTED: 13 Jan 2008
CATEGORY: PWP
CONTENT/PAIRING: CORDELIA/ANGELUS
WARNINGS: Explicit Sexual Content and Language
FICPIC CREDIT: N/A
AUTHOR NOTES:
1) This is a very early C/Aus fanfic from me, so forgiveness is needed if it’s a tad OOC. Enjoy!!
STATUS: Complete


Soft skin warmed his palm, the golden shade set off by chocolate hair that fell in rumpled waves around her face and shoulders. She looked so pretty while she slept.

So pretty, so peaceful. It seemed like such a sin to wake her.

He traced the contours of her face, following the way a defiant jaw arched up into defined cheekbones. The feathery touch he used was hard enough to make dark lashes flutter in response.

He smiled and she sighed. Those full lips parted a little, then pursed inwards as she burrowed further down into the pillows.

How like her to forget about the importance of uninviting him into her home, her sanctuary. Mistakes always had consequences. He just wondered what would be hers. It was food for thought.

Gently, so very gently, he leaned down to nuzzle her cheek, allowing the sweet scent of honey to fill his lungs. There was a warmth to her that didn’t come with humanity. It was the kind of warmth that crawled over the skin, consuming every inch until you were left intoxicated on it.

It was the kind of warmth that came with sitting in front of a roaring fire, taking shelter from the cold outside. It was the kind of warmth that came from having a lover share your bed. It was the kind of warmth that came from lazy sex on a stormy summer’s night.

His tongue was cool, much cooler than her skin, but he had to taste. Just one simple taste and maybe he would stop, get up and leave her to her dreams. Maybe he would stay, wake her up with true love’s kiss, or maybe he would take her and place her in a bed of roses and thorns.

Or maybe, if he was feeling generous, he would take her and give her everything her little heart desired. Maybe he would stay, do nothing but wait until she woke up. Her reaction would be amusing, he figured, but discarded the idea as quickly as it came.

His mouth hovered over her neck, barely touching, and he could already taste the sweetness. She had a beautiful neck. Slender, curved, and golden flesh only marred by slim blue lines.

That always fascinated him. Blood was blue until it hit the air. He much preferred red. It was a warning the world over. Danger, stop, and whatever else.

Red painted his life, his dreams. His nightmares. Bright red, dark, pale, burgundy, crimson. All of them told a different story and each one held a version of hell the soul never touched. It saw, remembered, tasted, but never touched.

The soul brought with it an agony he both hated and loved. It restrained him, locked him away behind invisible steel bars, chained him to a dirty concrete wall in a dank and dirty prison cell. The damning thing was the soul wanted, craved, to touch, to taste what it saw. It got stronger, almost unbearable, as the beast sucked it further into the hell the soul itself created.

Let the soul watch from it’s own prison.

He leaned closer, feeling that warmth around him grow closer, more stifling. His tongue darted past hungry lips and he licked a soft trail along the column of her neck, ending on her pulse.

His appreciation was kept silent even as the first trickles of arousal hardened him. “Mmm,” the breathless purr chilled her skin, “I could just eat you up.”

Her body rolled away from him, the covers slipped down to reveal precious inches of golden skin. Her neck tilted towards his mouth and he couldn’t resist the unconscious temptation to steal another taste.

A tiny little breath hitched in her chest. He watched, fascinated, as she slightly shuddered in response. Her exposed shoulder rolled and encouraged him to move the covers down, urged him to satisfy the question of what she wore to bed.

Goose bumps rose up on her flesh in answer to the disappearing warmth, and he almost felt guilty for it. Still he kept going, softly tugging the cotton covers past her collarbone only to stop just above her décolleté.

There was so sign of a pyjama top, nightgown, or chemise, and he began to wonder if she wore only panties to bed. It excited him to think that, below the layers of comfort, there was nothing but satin and skin. It excited him to think that all there was between him and her was a teeny tiny piece of fabric.

It excited him to be there without her knowing. He relished the perverse sensations he got from touching her while she slept, unaware of anything but the sweetness of dreams.

One more soft tug exposed her breasts. Full, round, still pert with youth, and tipped with baby pink nipples that begged to be tasted. The temperature drop caused them to pucker and tighten, and his mouth watered.

“Pretty,” the vampire whispered. She was his for the taking. His head lowered close to her chest and her breathed her in, absorbing the delicious scent of honey and lilies. There was nothing so lovely as a vulnerable young woman.

She whimpered and shifted under him, delicate hands flexed into fists around the covers. He pulled back and looked at her face. Surely she wasn’t going to wake up and spoil his fun. He may have to rethink things if that were the case.

He recalled last night, when he had her pinned beneath him. His thigh still burned from spreading her legs, his chest ached from feeling those breasts crushed against him, his ears still heard the music that was her scream. He’d fed off her terror like he would blood and it’d left him full. Full, but not satisfied.

He wouldn’t be satisfied until he had her legs locked around his back and his cock deep inside the tight wet heat hidden between firm thighs. He wouldn’t be satisfied until soft muscles clenched around his shaft and made him cum.

It’d be easy to make her climax, her inexperience ensured that, but he was a different story. Unlike the soul, it’d take more than a simple popping of the cherry to bring him off. She’d have to work hard to get her reward.

A small, high pitched whimper shattered the silence and he froze, not wanting her to awaken just yet. Her hips moved slightly and her head tilted to one side, her eyelids squeezed and her lower lip was bitten.

“Please…” The word was spoken so softly, so sweetly, he almost missed it.

Her scent changed, the honey and lilies turned into something more. Something that blackened his eyes and darkened his fantasies. Wild roses began to overpower the lilies, and wild rain swept away the honey. He watched as manicured nails dug into the mattress, her fingers flexed around the sheets.

Rapid movement below those creamy lids caught his attention and he watched it all. The bitten lip, the fingers, the hips…

He wondered who those sweet dreams belonged too. He envied the person her dream belonged to.

Jealousy was one thing, but envy was another. Envy would tear a person inside out, make a person willing to do anything it took to get what they want. Envy made a person’s eyes turn green. Envy made his eyes burn gold.

That dream was his, just as she was his.

Her tongue darted out to as though to catch a rain drop, then she hissed as a sharp motion drove her hips down into her bed. “Please.” This time, she was begging. It was slow, drawn out, and her voice showed the agony of being kept waiting.

The vampire sucked in the arousal and the groan that left his throat was more a quiet growl. He leaned further down, circling a nipple with lips and tongue, he watched as the little bud flickered in response. Still, she slept.

His tongue tingled with a variety of tastes. He purred with satisfaction when she shifted under him. Rolling onto her back and taking the covers with her, causing perky breasts to gently bounce with the motion. He imagined how they would look when wrapped around his cock.

She whimpered again, and again he glanced up to make sure she wasn’t awakening. She wasn’t. Good. He’d hate to have his fun ruined.

He tugged the covers down more, exposing more golden skin, and admiring the way it shimmered in the moonlight. He smiled lightly at the fact he couldn’t see her ribs. It pleased him she had a healthy appetite.

Removing the covers completely had him needing to change position. Sliding carefully to the left of her gave him the room he wanted. Much, much better.

His lips furled up into a smirk as the covers were lowered ever further, only stopped just above her mound. Obsidian orbs gleamed at the lack of underwear. So Queen C slept naked, did she? Who’d have thought.

A rough fingertip traced her slender waist and followed the curve out onto her hip, feeling the supple skin melt under his touch. He didn’t stop there. Moving down across a toned thigh, curling round and up.

He wanted to slide thick fingers inside her, wanted to make those tight silky walls coming hard. He was so close to giving in and doing that, but he resisted, and teased himself a little longer.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of wild rain now almost overpowering. He’d barely touched her and she was burning up. How flattering.

His fingers splayed out, brushing oh so softly against her special place. Dark, downy curls tickled his palm, and he smiled lightly. She wasn’t shaven. Good. It meant he’d have the pleasure of doing it himself. Well, if he wanted too. It’d be such a shame to lose those dark, downy curls over a whim.

Her legs were falling open and making it easier for him to touch. She shifted and her rose up, pushing his hand closer, harder, onto her. A quiet moan escaped and she hissed her enjoyment.

He sketched the outline of her quim, feeling just how sweet she was. Dipping down, he found her entrance and she was wet. So very, very wet, and hot. His thumb spread her dewy folds and slipped past them to draw slow circles around her clit.

The bud throbbed under his talent and her body opened up, ready and willing for more. Another quiet moan left her throat. The vampire paused, smirking as frustration washed over her beautiful face.

She wanted, needed, something inside her.

Who was he to deny her?

“You want more baby?” A thick fingertip slid past the initial tightness, silken muscles stretched to fit. She made a gorgeous sound that went straight to his cock. Yeah she wanted more.

He pushed in knuckle deep and her hips drew back against the mattress. He followed, placing pressure on her sweet spot. She whimpered and he did it again. Her hand languidly trailed down her stomach, manicured nails left tiny white lines that onyx eyes tracked with lust. He felt her slender digits smooth over the sensitive pearl, soothing the burn with gentle pets.

He looked at her face. Closed eyes squeezed, lips bitten, cheeks flushed, little noises coming from her throat. Her breathing grew ragged and heavy, her nipples puckered under the sensation. “So pretty,” he murmured.

She was so wet, his finger rubbed against the satin walls as he pulled out and away from her. Her legs were pulled further apart and he eased his body over, carefully lowering his weight on top of her, trapping her hand between them. The heat of humanity seeped through his leather pants.

His hips made a long, slow circle, grinding down hard on her clit, feeling her throb against his shaft. Her hand was moving that little bit harder, that little bit faster, her knuckles stroking his balls. She squirmed and hissed, face flushed with orgasm.

“That’s it, Duchess. Ride me, fuck me.” He did nothing, just lay on top of her, letting her use him for pleasure. He was hard, so fucking hard and ready to cum. His balls were tight, almost painfully so, and it wouldn’t take much to set him off.

Her free hand roamed down his back to grip his ass, her nails seemed to cut through the leather as she pulled him further on her. Her hips barely moved and there was no friction, but the pressure was incredible. Then she stopped breathing, her body stiff, tense, and he felt the heavy pulse of climax as it shot through her and into him, making him groan.

The gasp of air lodged in her chest came out in a quiet moan, “Angelus.”

His name on her lips got him where it hurt. “God, yes.” His eyes were slammed shut, hips drove his aching cock against her once. He pressed down tightly and roughly as he ejaculated. His breathing was harsh, laboured, when he came down off the high, his pants were sticky and wet.

He looked down and saw Cordelia, wide awake, and watched as she realised he had her pinned into place.


…THE END…


 

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