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Dark Pleasures
Part 4
by Tami
And so it became a pattern. Angel would spend his nights working to help Buffy fight the good fight while still keeping her separated from his childer. His constant distraction was thoughts of Spike and Drusilla, both separately and together. When he was home alone or retired from a night of fighting vampires and his own feelings towards the slayer, Drusilla would make an unexpected house call.
Angel had started buying human blood from the blood bank for her when she popped by. She would show up, talk nonsense about how the moon told her that he was closer to losing his soul and then slide into bed with him. He would make love to her for hours and then she would go back to Spike and the artificial safety of the factory.
Willow appeared at his door earlier, frantic and babbling. Angel could barely understand a single word that tumbled out of her mouth. He silently wondered why the youth of the era had such a tendency to talk a mile a minute when they were anxious. When he could finally get a coherent explanation out of her, she told him that there was trouble in Sunnydale once again. It seemed that Giles’ bad boy days had come back to haunt them all, in the form of a possessing demon. Angel went with her to help sort it out.
They found the demon in the magic shop, where it was attacking Buffy wearing the body of Jenny Calendar. Willow had filled him in along the way about how Ms. Calendar was unconscious when the body slipped out of Giles’ dead friend and into her. That’s how Willow came up with her brilliant idea. The demon needed an unconscious or dead body to jump to, and Angel seemed to be the perfect solution to her.
Upon entering the shop, Angel pulled the demon off Buffy and sent it flying across the room. Then, he attacked it. The second the demon felt a danger to its existence it jumped from Jenny’s body to his. There was a flaw in logic concerning possessing another demon. The soul may be the catalyst to Angel’s need to help the helpless, but he also had a two hundred-plus-year-old demon that was more than ready for a good fight after being caged for so long.
Angel’s face morphed between that of his human, his demon and that of the possessing demon as it fought for dominance. The struggle didn’t last long, and Angelus easily kicked the entity out of his body. Even now, as he walked back to his apartment, Angelus still felt energized from the fight. It gave Angel a similar mood. Every pore vibrated with the need for more action.
The distinct scent of cigarettes and worn leather assailed Angel’s senses as soon as he opened his door. He entered the room silently
and saw someone sitting in the lone chair near his black leather couch. Dusty shoes were propped up on the scuffed coffee table, a cigarette dangled from full lips, and a bottle hung loosely from long, slim fingers over the arm of the chair.
Angel shouldn’t have been surprised to see Spike in his apartment, lounging on his furniture as if he owned the place. After all, it was he who taught the boy to walk into a room like it was his.
“I’d offer you blood, but then I think you’ve drunk enough,” Angel observed as he went into the kitchen to get his own blood drink.
“Why the soddin’ hell would you care anyway?” Spike slurred.
Angel ignored him and went about fixing a drink. He could feel Spike’s ice-blue glare boring holes into his back. He supposed that if looks could really kill, he’d be a pile of dust now. He went about his task as if the emotions pouring off his childe didn’t mean anything to him.
“Think you’re too good for us, is that it? That shiny soul makes you better than us, mate? Think you can toy with us? I-I-I’ve killed two sssslayerssss in my lifetime,” Spike held up two fingers, “I’ve walked the entire world three times over. I’ve spent a . . . ccccent’ry with no law unto myself, least of all a pouf like you. So, tell me, Angel, why is it that a lifetime after you abandoned us, I can still smell you around her? This whole bloody town is nothing but your stinking scent. It’s nauseating is what it is.”
“Maybe because she’s my childe,” Angel suggested. “She will always carry my scent, just like you always will. You wonder why you can always smell me. You carry my blood in your veins, that’s why.”
“I hate you. Bloody well hate you. Have anything you want, take everything you want, but I’ll be damned if I’ll ever be yours again, Angelus. I won’t be owned by a fluffy souled, former demon like you,” Spike sneered as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth.
“You can hate me all you want, William, it won’t change anything,” Angel said simply. He turned around, leaning his hip against the cabinet next to the stove and watched Spike take another swig of whiskey. “If you hate me so much then why are you here?”
“Don’t think I don’t bleedin’ ask myself that every day,” Spike replied flippantly. “Just stay away from Dru and I’ll be the better for it.”
“You’re asking for a lot then. She isn’t yours to keep,” Angel said.
“Well she sure as hell isn’t yours either. Angelus made her, not you,” Spike sneered. He sat up and put the bottle on the coffee table before he rose and left the apartment, his duster billowing out behind him.
Angel watched him leave and then remembered that he had a blood packet in the microwave. Reheating it for another thirty seconds, he took it out and drank it out of the bag. He tossed that away and went over to the couch, sat back with Spike’s discarded bottle of whiskey and drank the remainder of it, deep in thought.
Drusilla and Spike were driving him crazy. Drusilla’s late night visits were only a game to piss Spike off. Angel couldn’t think of another reason for her to even want to be near him. His soul was a cancer that his childer steered clear of. Spike had mocked him because of it. Angel himself had told Drusilla time and again that he couldn’t give her back the Angelus she knew.
He groaned at the soft tap on his door. He put the bottle on the coffee table and got to his feet. Walking to the door he muttered to himself, “You know I should start leaving a key under the mat or just give you one of your own, Dru.” He opened the door to find Buffy on the other side.
“Uh, hey!” Buffy stammered.
Angel gripped the doorknob and leaned his weight on it. “Hello, Buffy. Giles and Jenny okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I just wanted to thank you for what you did, saving, well, all of us,” she said.
“Don’t mention it. You should be thanking Willow though, she’s the one that came up with the idea,” Angel said.
“I plan to. I just wanted to thank you, so . . . thanks, night,” she said as she pivoted on her heel and left.
Angel stared after her then shook his head and went back into the apartment.
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In the coming days, Buffy made several appearances at his door. Sometimes it was before school, other times between classes. He knew she had fallen for him. It wasn’t intentional on his part. From his perspective, he tried to keep as much distance between them as possible while still helping her. He couldn’t chance her meeting Drusilla. And yet, on occasion they had come eerily close to bumping into each other in the hallway, Drusilla arriving just moments after Buffy had left him following their nightly patrols.
Drusilla teased him mercilessly over the Slayer’s infatuation with him. She taunted him with Buffy’s discovery of what he truly was. Where that would piss him off had it been Darla, Drusilla’s goading only made him hotter. His little girl always knew what buttons to push when she set out to do something. She was determined to make him slip up and she was pulling out all the stops to accomplish her task.
Angelus was rattling in his cage, making more racket than usual. After a night of patrolling with Buffy, it had become too much. Scouting the graveyards for fresh graves and scenting her hot blood all night as she walked close to him trying to entice him. Angelus was inside him daring him to sink his teeth in and drain her dry, that she was ripe and nearly begging for it. But, Angel held off. He tried to ignore the tantalizing scent of virgin blood.
Angel flipped the page of a book he really wasn’t reading. He scanned the pages with eyes that were glazed over. Instead, he had images playing in his mind. Images of drinking Buffy’s powerful blood, but then they turned to killing Drusilla and Spike. He grew hard at those memories. The soul was there to make him feel regret for his crimes, but his demon didn’t see turning two beautiful creatures into homicidal reflections of himself as a crime. They were both deadly, passionate, sensual beings and he wanted them.
Angel was pulled from his reverie by the telltale tap on his door. He put the book aside and got up to answer it. Gripping the doorknob, he stopped and sucked in a needy breath as he looked at the door with unseeing eyes. All he saw was the image in his head of what Drusilla possibly looked like on the other side. He grew even harder as he envisioned her standing in the hall in a long white christening gown, a mockery of her human self, with perfect white slippers and her dark hair hung loose billowing around her shoulders, the picture of an angel. He smirked at the travesty of that image, considering he’d plucked her from the very hands of God when he tormented and turned her.
Killing is so merciful in the end, isn't it? The pain is ended. Eternal torment, the shining example of all that’s good and pure turned into seductive sin. And she was: his sin, his temptress. Everything he taught her to be, broken and molded her into. He couldn’t take anymore.
Wrenching the door open, Angel grabbed Drusilla’s wrist and yanked her inside. He pressed her against the door, forcing it shut and attacked her mouth. He ran his tongue over her pouting lips until they opened on a gasp and slipped his tongue inside. She surprised him with her boldness when she bit his tongue. He had to remember to punish her for that later, when he could think past the haze of sex. Right now, he wanted to rip her clothes from her body, to take her, lay claim to her again, send her back to Spike, her body imprinted with his use of her, a message to his boy that they are only on loan to each other.
Allowing a few seconds for Drusilla to have her victory over him, Angel let her taste his blood from his tongue. Then, he pulled away and grabbed fistfuls of her dress, tugging her forward as he move back towards the bed. When she reached out to rub her fingers over the bulge in his pants, he circled his fingers around her wrist to halt her movement.
“No more games, Drusilla. No more teasing. No more of you in control. Tonight you’ll be pleasing me,” Angel said, using his Sire tone. He didn’t know where the demands came from.
Drusilla’s eyes were so wide that he could see the whites clearly around the dark blue color. When she didn’t move to undress, he tugged on the square neckline of her satin gown. “Take it off, Dru.”
The quiet command was met with shaking fingers drawing the skirt up her thighs and then the dress was up and over her head, tossed to the floor and forgotten.
Angel stepped forward, took her face in his hands and bestowed a kiss to her closed eyes. Then, he lifted her head up and kissed along her cheek to her lips, plundering her mouth with his tongue. She whimpered and gripped his arms as her senses reeled. He tipped her head back and caressed the column of her neck with his tongue. Angel stepped back and waited for Drusilla to refocus.
“Undress me, baby girl,” he said in soft command.
Angel shuddered under her intense gaze. Her dark blue eyes raked over him leaving a hot trail across his skin in
their wake. She reached for his wifebeater and pulled it up and off. She leaned into him and brushed her lips over his chest, teasing his nipples with her tongue until he groaned. Then, she fell to her knees and kissed his flat stomach.
Angel watched her as she unfastened his pants and pulled them down until he could step out of them. His head fell back and his whole body shuddered when he felt the tentative touch of her tongue on his shaft. He looked down just in time to see her take the bulbous head into her mouth. When she slowly sucked down the length, he threaded his fingers in her hair and tugged back to prolong the sensation.
“Such a good girl, remembering how I like it,” Angel murmured. “But, I’m still going to punish you for biting me and taking my blood without permission.”
Drusilla whimpered at his words, but continued her ministrations. She sucked on the length, moving up and down. She tried to stroke the base, but Angel batted her hands away. Instead, she grabbed his ass and dug her nails into the flesh. The pleasure-pain caused Angel to tighten his hold on her hair and direct her sucking to a faster, harder rhythm.
“Going to make me cum in that pretty mouth, Dru,” he groaned. “Going to make you go home and kiss Spike, remind him of what I taste like. That boy thinks he can show up here and threaten me. After I’m through with you, I’ll fuck him within an inch of his life and then we’ll see who’s gone soft.”
Drusilla whimpered around his shaft and looked up at him with wide eyes. She wasn’t so sure about going home to Spike. She’d done a lot of things to upset him, but he was all she had left to cling to with her Daddy gone for the most part.
Angel seemed to sense her distress. He
pulled her off him and said, “Don’t worry, baby girl. You’ll
still have your Dark Prince.”
Angel groaned as she pushed him closer and closer to the edge with her hands. He squeezed the base of his cock to stop the orgasm and sat down on the bed. He pulled her up to sit in his lap and kissed her hungrily. Then, he flipped her over on her stomach and stuffed a pillow under her hips, raising her ass in the air.
Drusilla felt the bed move as Angel got up and went to his closet. In the back of the cabinet was a black chest. He reached up to the shelf above and produced a key to open the lock. She heard him rummage through it and then felt the bed dip as he returned to his spot behind her. She looked back with wide eyes to see the mid-length blue/black leather whip with thirteen-and-a-half-inch straps.
Drusilla cried out at the initial stinging slap of the whip on her bare ass. “Daddy!”
“Should’ve known better than to bite my tongue,” Angel admonished as he delivered another stinging slap.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!” Drusilla whimpered.
“Why don’t I believe that?” Angel asked, smacking the whip against her ass.
He spanked her until she was pleasurably numb and moaning into another pillow. Angel set the whip aside and licked the red welts until the numbness started to wear off. He moved lower and sucked gently on her clit until she bucked and came in his mouth. Then, he sat up and dragged her lax body up with him. She was so comfortably numb right now, he could bend her in any position he liked.
This may be what she needed, but Angel still couldn’t give her what she wanted. He couldn’t give her Angelus. He made a good show of being Angelus by spanking her, but he wouldn’t allow himself to forget what he’d done to her, how he broke her. She was gorgeous, sweet and chaste, set to be a nun and he’d ruined her, destroyed her faith and became her God. Even when she was blissfully happy, uncaring of the world outside her fragile mind, Angel still saw the sadness in her eyes. Or maybe it was the reflection of his own feelings for what Angelus had done to her.
Thank God one of them had the presence of mind to make Spike a childe. He’d fallen in love with Drusilla on sight and had taken care of her ever since. She was Angelus’ creation, but Spike kept her safe for him. If they ever made it to equal ground, he’d make it up to Spike.
For now though, Angel moved Drusilla to her hands and knees. He guided his cock inside her pussy and held onto her hips as he pushed deeper. Then, he covered her back and started to thrust in hard and fast. He heard her cry out near his ear on every thrust. He rose up behind her and spanked her ass with his open hand as he fucked her harder, trying to bury himself as far as he could get.
“Jesus, Dru, only you and Spike can bring this . . . possessiveness out of me. Squeeze me, make me cum, baby girl,” Angel said between panting breaths. Drusilla did as he said, rhythmically contracting her inner muscles until she felt cool liquid bathe her inside.
Angel gently extracted himself from her and lay beside her. He pulled her against his chest and kissed her gratefully. Those kisses led to more passionate, heated ones. He moved lower, teasing her body with lips and tongue until she arched under him. Then, he sucked and nibbled on her clit until she found her release.
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An hour later, they were under the covers, Drusilla curled against Angel’s side. He absently combed his fingers through her hair as she carelessly glided her nails along his flat stomach.
“You better get up and go back before Spike misses you,” he said noncommittally, kissing her temple.
“You’ll be with us soon. I know it. You’ll find perfect bliss and then the Slayer will know the real truth. That she’s fancied a beast with too many burdens now gone. Your essence is inside me now. It sings such a sweet song. It sings of death and destruction, of pain and sorrow. Such sweet music, my love.”
“I can’t give you want you want, Drusilla.”
She straddled his waist and looked down at him with big, dark blue eyes. “Yes, you will. Time enough soon. The stars will fall and weep for the lost warrior and the lion will rise to take his rightful place for he is the King of the Jungle.”
“Nonsense Dru,” he scoffed.
“Nonsense is that which makes little sense but the truth. Lovers are liars and thieves of hearts, but the queen of such does not care for she has the love of not one but two. The Queen of Cups will drink of sorrow tasting the bitter wine and tell her king that it is ripe with blood.”
Angel stared up at her at a loss for what to say to all that. What the hell did she mean? His brow furrowed trying to decipher her vision-talk.
She reached up and smoothed the lines away with her fingers. She slid off the bed and slowly dressed. Angel watched her move towards the door in a graceful stride. He almost felt relieved until
she turned to him.
“You will be with the family soon enough, Daddy. Both of you and such games we shall play. I will have a special tea party when you return.” As she turned to leave, Angel heard her last remark, “Miss Edith has missed you so, but soon I will take her blindfold off, so she can bask in your dark light.” With that she walked out, closing the door behind her.
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