R Rated - Part Six
Angelus entered the loft and threw his leather jacket off, it was finally time.
He quietly entered her room; it was peaceful and dark, as was he at the moment. He stood next to her bed staring down at her. Angel had wanted her; he had wanted her, now he was going to have her. All of her.
The scent of her blood was driving him crazy. He knew that if blood was stolen away in fear it was wonderfully warm but he also knew if it was had during sex it was scorching, though not many vamps were willing to take such high’s of letting their guard down just to get such a meal.
Angelus just smiled.
“Cordy?” He whispered, laying a hand on her, feeling the body heat through the thin, satin nightgown she wore.
“Hmm?” She stirred briefly; moving into his hand as his palm sent a scorching trail along her ribs.
“Cordy, wake up,” he whispered again. This time she did.
“ . . . Angel?” Suddenly she was brought back full force, realizing her situation.
“Wha--what are you--how did you get out?” She asked him as she scrambled to her knees and started backing up against her headboard.
“That’s nothing to worry about, all that matters is I’m out and here to stay,” he smiled.
“Not for long,” she told him, raising her chin in defiance.
“Oh, no, you got that wrong. Here. To. Stay. How much clearer do you need it? Ding-dong the bitch is dead, okay?”
“Geea--”
“Is dead, right, you finally got it. Anyway, Cordy, you have a decision to make.”
“What?” She asked, breathless at the information just told to her.
“Snap out of it, Cor, listen, I’m here to stay. Angel, the man you love? Gone, forever, in fact, so, Cordy, you better get used to me,” he said more gently than he intended.
“I--”
“Are you going to except it, Cordy?” He asked, cupping her cheek, his finger threading into her hair.
She couldn’t answer.
“Cordy?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes becoming watery.
“Yes?”
She nodded her head, mutely. She didn’t know why, at the moment, Angelus was acting so sweet and caring but she really didn’t care. If she couldn’t have Angel she would take Angelus, she loved him too much to let him go completely.
His lips met hers roughly, both of his hands now on her face. She met his harsh kisses tentatively at first as the tears made damp tracks down her cheeks. He led her to him until he could lay her down onto the bed.
As her kisses stayed gentle and full of love, as Angelus’ became softer, his tongue finally invading her mouth tenderly, kissing her sweetly.
One of his hands glided down her satin-clad body. He gently squeezed her hip before his hand went to the hem of her gown he trailed up. Pulling himself away he lost contact with her lips for only a brief moment before the fabric was swept over her head.
The kisses began once again as they lie back down, Cordelia’s tears had subsided and now only love and passion controlled her as the silk of his shirt rasped against her. He broke their kiss, still lightly biting her bottom lip before he moved away. He teased her, kissing and caressing her body, worshipping her, owning her as he sent her to hight’s of ecstasy.
Recovering with some difficulty Cordelia dragged his shirt off of him, impatiently throwing it to the floor and tugging at his pants. Angelus almost laughed at her behavior; he would have laughed, if he thought he could actually have spoken. After frustrating moments Angelus felt his pants ripped away from him.
“Careful, that’s valuable property,” he said harshly, trying to still be as nonchalant as possible even though it took all of him to speak those few, throaty words.
Soon enough they were together as her nails scraped down his back. Giving in to the feelings Cordelia let go and Angelus caught the smell of his own blood as it mixed with the scent of their bodies in an erotic, mind altering perfume. When Cordy broke away to scream his name his mouth found its way to her throat, his fangs sinking in.
When she realized what was happening she grabbed a handful of his hair, not to pull him away but just at the sensation. Angelus drank heavily and moved with her before giving all of himself.
This time though it wasn’t Angelus, it was Angel.
With all the will and strength he had he pulled his fangs away from her, relishing the searing heat in her blood. Licking the reddened puncture marks on her throat Angel embraced her, pulling her close as she slowly put her arms around him.
Together, they fell asleep.
The next morning Cordelia turned over in bed to feel a cool, empty space, she was about to curse herself for another silly dream until she noticed her absence of clothing and Angel’s silk shirt, haphazardly lying next to the bed.
Sitting up in bed she stared at it. She breathed in a shaky breath wondering where Angelus was now, and what carnage he was creating.
Dragging the sheet around her she got out of bed and made her way to the door, she thought briefly that he might be out there but it passed her mind quickly. She threw open the door, walking into the living, sheet dragging behind her when she spotted him there. He was sitting on the couch, his back to her and she froze.
Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t speak, she didn’t have to.
“Cordelia?” Angel asked, after long minutes of silence.
“Yeah?” She whispered through her raw throat, a combination of her inability to speak and the use of her lungs during the night before.
“I’m back.”
“I know.”
“Did you know it was last night?”
She just stared at the back of his head, she didn’t answer, she didn’t know.
“I could have left . . . after, when I knew I was back, but I didn’t want to,” he told her, still staring ahead.
“How--”
“I called Geeana, well, she called me, I thought she was . . . Well, she said the spell was pushed ahead, she was going to do something but she told me she didn’t have to, she had a vision and knew it was taken care of. The ironic part is that making love once made me lose my soul and now . . . now it brought it back. Forever.”
Cordy stayed by the door, quiet, thinking.
“You love me, Cordy.” It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, but a statement of what was.
“I know,” she repeated, looking down.
“So . . .”
“So what?”
“You accepted me as Angelus, unconditionally, does that mean you’ll except me now?”
Her eyes shot up at the question; he couldn’t be that dumb could he?
“Are you serious?”
Angel’s head dipped a bit, he had to admit, and through he thought she might want to forget last night he hoped she didn’t.
“It was just a idea, I mean--”
“Angel, of course I would accept you. You are . . . I can’t even describe it, your just the most amazing, caring, wonderful person in the world and I love you more than anyone or anything in my entire life,” Cordelia whispered, her eyes, once again becoming filled.
Slowly, she walked over to him, placing her hand on her cheek she urged his eyes to meet hers when they finally did they were beginning to become misted over themselves.
“Angel, I love you,” she told him as she stared into his eyes. Gradually her lips made their way to his, their eyes not closing to the last possible moment.
She curled up on his lap and they stayed that way for a long time, in utopia, loving each other, reveling in each other and silently thanking an eternally absent Angelus for what he put in motion.