"Well, you-undressed me-"
"Wait....where were you?"
"I was asleep over there,"
Buffy moved a candle to sit by the wall. She leaned back against the wall with her feet out.
"OK...so what did I do first?"
"I was asleep, and when I woke up you were picking me up,"
"Close your eyes," he said. His arms slid under her knees and behind her back, "Like this?" he whispered.
He stood holding her effortlessly in his arms. "Then what happened?"
"You put me on the bed,"
He took her to the bed and set her down tenderly, "Like this?"
"Yeah...and then..." Buffy realized she was already a little breathless, "Then you undressed me,"
"What did take off first?"
"Ummm, my blouse,"
He began unbuttoning, "Slow?"
"Yes, and I could barely feel it. It was almost like you wanted me to stay asleep,"
"Did I kiss you?"
"But I want to,"
"Then kiss me," she breathed. He leaned over her and touched his lips to hers, barely. He spoke against her mouth, "But this part didn't happen,"
"No," she said, and her voice trembled. He kissed her, and Buffy's entire body arched upward toward him in sweet reaction; she was unable to stop it. He put delicate kisses next to her mouth, on her eyelids, along her upper lip, then her lower lip, he brushed his lips across hers, back and forth, slowly, nudging her now and then, pushing at her lips. Buffy reached up to take his face in her hands, but he took her wrists and brought her hands firmly down on the bed. "That's not what happened," he said.
"You're still sleepy," he whispered, "You still think you're dreaming, right?"
Buffy tried to calm herself, "Yeah. You took off my pants and..... everything else," He unzipped her pants and lifted her hips in one arm; he slid them down, pulling them over her feet. "What next?" he asked.
"My bra," gasped Buffy.
"This didn't happen, did it?" he stroked one finger down her belly from belly button to panties, and then lightly down the center of the panties, right over her clitoris.
"Nooo," crooned Buffy, as a wave of pleasure went through her, "That didn't happen yet,"
"OK," he said as his hands slid under her back, lifting her; he unhooked her bra and slipped it over her shoulders, then lowered her back on the bed. She was gazing at him, panting.
"Were you looking at me?"
She shut her eyes, "No, I couldn't see you. It was dark."
"Keep your eyes shut," he said. She did, and his lips brushed silkily over her left nipple.
Buffy crooned, arching again. "Did I do that?" he asked.
"She shivered, "No,"
His lips slipped quickly across her other nipple, "How about that?"
"Angel," she sighed, "Angel,"
He whispered in her ear, "Let's get back to what happened. What did I do next?"
"You took off my panties,"
His mouth closed over the lace waistband of her panties and tugged downward, "Like this?" he asked, mouth full.
She burst into giggles, "No, with your hands,"
His fingers slipped over her belly; he slid the panties downward and pulled them off, stopping to nip at her little toe. "Did I do that?"
"No, " she laughed, and then she gasped, because Angel's tongue slipped over her belly lightly, up to her belly button and back down to her patch of curls and lingered there.
"Not yet?" he asked.
"No, not yet," she sighed.
She felt the bed move under his weight as he crawled up over her on his hands and knees.
"You took my hair down,"
He carefully removed the clip from her hair, smoothing it out with his fingers.
"You started kissing me,"
"Finally," he said. His mouth fell on hers, tasting her. Buffy luxuriated in the feel of him, it had been so long, so long, these were the kisses she remembered. He asked, "Like that?"
"Yes, only...you were kissing me a lot of places,"
He made a wonderful sound in his chest, a soft growling sound, "Tell me where. Every little place. Don't leave any out,"
"My shoulders....my ears, my neck..." he was kissing her on command, but she was going too fast.
"Slow down," he rumbled. He was kissing her just as he had earlier, small kisses that took in the flavor of her, dipping his tongue lightly, sucking very slightly, taking mouthfuls of her. His mouth traveled over her shoulders and up her throat. He kissed her ears, it seemed, for hours.
Buffy gasped, "The...crooks of my arms, my wrists, my palms...." He covered her arms with kisses, and Buffy's body shook and moved toward his, undulating; her hips grazed his legs. He pulled back. "Don't" he said, in a muffled groan.
Buffy was trying not to thrash under him, but her body seemed to be ringing like a bell from his caresses, and she was losing control. "You...held my breasts...and you kissed them, but not-"
"Not your nipples," he whispered, "Not yet,"
He began to kiss them, holding them in his hands. Buffy heard a high escalating sound; it was her own voice. His tongue, his mouth moved carefully over the softness of her, nuzzling and licking. Buffy thought she wasn't going to make it. She was so high on his attentions that she was feeling faint.
"Then..." she stopped to breathe, "Then you kissed down, doownn-" the last word trilled as his mouth followed instruction, "And....and you drew circles around my nipples with your fingers," His fingers began to draw the circles around her nipples, which stood up longingly, almost aching, as his mouth went wetly down. Buffy's hips jerked up helplessly, but he pulled away waiting for her to calm a little, then resuming his kisses down her belly. When he'd reached her nest of curls she said, "Right there, you stayed for a minute, and you touched my thighs...the inside of-" she was speechless for a time. His fingers slid up the inside of her thighs. "You knew I was wet," said Buffy, but it came out a little too loudly, "And you-"
"Just had a taste?" he said, moving his head between her legs and rubbing his lips over her sex, sipping. He made a deep, satisfied sound that vibrated through him.
"You always know," said Buffy.
"I do," he groaned, "You smell like honey,"
Buffy cried out. "Angel!" His mouth moved very lightly over the outer folds of her sex; then he pulled away. She could tell he was bowing his head. He did that sometimes, put his head down and clenched his teeth. She knew he was controlling himself.
"What did I do after this?" his voice was growing more edgy now.
"You touched me there, with your fingers, and you licked my nipples,"
"Good," His fingers slipped over her, catching the dew from her and spreading it along the folds of her, long strokes, but his mouth was still there; his tongue followed his fingers. Buffy's head snapped back and her hands went into his hair. She bucked against him, crooning. He jerked away from her hands and crawled over her once more.
"That didn't happen," he said, hoarsely.
"Nuh-unh," she managed.
He took a nipple in his mouth and his fingers returned to her sex. His tongue slipped over her nipple gracefully. His fingers moved deeper into the folds of her sex, gliding in her dew; with each pass he circled the tip of her clitoris. Buffy was so near the edge that she was in a kind of panic; the wetness flowed from her. Angel took her other nipple in his mouth, caressing it with devotion.
Buffy shouted, "Angel! I can't-"
"What happened now?" he demanded.
"Your-mouth-" she sang.
"Exactly," he said, through his teeth, "What happened?"
"You....put your hands up, you touched my nipples and your mouth" she gasped, "Went," she gasped again, but he had already taken her clitoris between his lips; he moved his tongue over it, and Buffy screeched as she lost herself, driving her sex against his mouth, the orgasm taking her ferociously. It almost resembled pain in the way it danced through her, echoing through the deepest parts of her. She was still gasping when it subsided; she moaned.
Angel rested his head on her belly, rubbing his face against her; his hands slid under her back to cradle her.
Buffy felt the opium-like afterglow begin to settle over her, but she fought it.
"I always wake up, after those dreams," she said, "But I didn't wake up,"
Angel's head snapped up. "There's more?"
She reached for him, bringing him upward, "You pushed me back, in the pillows,"
He lifted her and piled the pillows behind her; he pushed her into them.
"You were over me, like this," she said, "And you rested on me," she said, "But you didn't have any clothes on," he began to pull them off, but Buffy had had enough frustration for one night. She sat up. She pushed quickly on his chest, throwing him back on the bed.
"This didn't happen," she said. She pulled the T-shirt over his head and covered him in greedy kisses, taking his smooth chest in mouthfuls, lingering on his nipples, her tongue exploring hungrily while she pulled the sweatpants off him. His sex sprang up; she caught it in her hand and stroked it gently while her warm mouth mauled him, moving down. His hips drove foreword, moving the length of his hardness through her hand.
"Buffy, Buffy," his voice was higher, it was almost a whine.
She licked her lips and took him into her mouth in one long, slow dip. He cried out. She stroked the length of the shaft strongly, but slowly, as her mouth took him deeper. She rubbed her tongue on the underside as she released him, and took him again.
"Last much longer? I know the feeling," she said, her tongue flailing over the engorged head of his sex, circling and trailing, "Come in my mouth," she said, and took him as deep as she could, diving down onto him, the moisture from her mouth seeping free, her hand pulling on him relentlessly. His hips jerked helplessly and she took him faster; his legs trembled, and he was making wonderful sounds, sweet, helpless sounds. His sex grew even harder now, and wider, more taut; it was more difficult to take him, but she sucked hard, and he exploded, spurting salty and cold across her tongue. Buffy held him gently in her mouth while his pleasure subsided.
"That-" he grunted.
"Didn't happen," said Buffy. She moved back on the bed, laying in the pillows, and pulled him onto her, wrapping her arms around him, holding him to her.
"I'm too heavy," he said, trying to pull away, but she crushed him onto her.
"I'm the Slayer," she said.
Angel laughed. She had never heard him laugh very much. He usually laughed in short little bursts, soft and deep. Now Angel laughed freely, his body shaking against hers, a good, long laugh. Listening to him made her laugh, too, and they laid together giggling in the candlelight. It lasted awhile; they had never enjoyed this before.
"You were laying on me just like this," she said. His sex was on her belly, slowly hardening again.
"Just like this?"
"Yes, and you kissed me,"
"Yes," he said, and he kissed her. Buffy's heart contracted, thinking of him going away, just when everything was right. She put the thought away from her.
"I'll never be far," he said.
She looked at him wonderingly, "Do you know everything I think?"
"No," he said, "Just everything you feel,"
"Have you always?"
"No," he said, "It started-down there," he motioned with his head, and Buffy knew what he meant, "They let me stay connected to you,"
"I had so many dreams,"
"I know. I was in some of them. I was really with you. It's one of the things I asked for. I'll always know how you are. If you're sick or scared, I'll know. If you're happy, I'll know."
"You wanted that?" she asked softly.
"More than anything. They didn't have a problem with it. You're the Slayer," he grinned.
She pulled his mouth onto hers; they kissed deeply for a long time. His sex began to grow on her belly. She delighted in the feel of it, creeping upward, expanding, hardening. She felt the thrill go through her; she remembered the first time she had felt the size of him through his clothing and had gasped in amazement, thinking, Oh, no, I'll never be able to do that. She smiled to herself. He moved against her, and she moaned sharply. Now she craved him again, badly. He slipped his arms under her, putting his weight on his forearms.
"Tell me," he said.
"Slide down," she said, and he instinctively found the position, the tip of his sex resting at the entrance of hers. "YES," she said.
"Was I still kissing you?"
"My face, all over," He kissed her cheeks, little creeping kisses. Buffy's hands moved over him, the luscious curves of muscle under his smooth, smooth skin, the amazing length of him, his thick, soft hair. Her sex contracted, and she moved her hips downward to take him in, just the tip of him. She crooned as the sensation of him entering rushed through her body like fire. He moaned. She waited, then moved again, taking him deeper, and he grunted with the effort of restraining himself, of not plunging into her. She moved again, feeling her moisture move over him, feeling how he was gliding into her, and feeling her heat build. She thrust herself onto him and nearly screamed; she thrust again, drawing him into the hungry depths of her, and did scream. He bucked once, and stopped. "Not yet," he groaned. "Yes," she said , "Now," and he released himself, driving his sex into hers with deep, uneven thrusts, slowing and then with more urgency, then slowing again. Buffy gripped his back and gave herself up for gone. The rush came over them at the same time; they slammed against each other, shouting.
Buffy's chest heaved, her entire body was shuddering. He rolled her over onto him. They were silent a while.
"Oh," said Angel suddenly.
"Now I remember," he smiled at her.