To Anja, my favorite smut critic, and to Shirley, my #1 beta.
He'd only just recently discovered that he had a truly handy
skill. Although he required oxygen, now (Angel sometimes lamented the days when
he could stay underwater... say, in a bathtub, for instance... for hours at a
stretch.), it turned out that he really didn't need as much to breathe as most
humans did. A most notable example being the beauty who lay sleeping softly in
his bed beside him, lit golden by the Saturday morning sunshine that poured
through the giant, un-shaded picture windows.
This discovery meant that he could probably handle having his head under the
covers for as long as he once had been able to stay under water.
Angel slipped under the blankets, already breathless and hard with anticipation.
He burrowed down, deep between the clean white sheets, smoothing his body over
the soft cotton until he was almost at the bottom of the bed. When he came back
up, he slid slowly, face first, between Buffy's trim, tanned legs.
He reached the juncture of her soft thighs, and deeply inhaled the warm, musky
scent of sleep from her, before softly laying his mouth onto her curls. Brushing
her mons softly, he then traced his mouth with a feather touch over her intimate
lips. She didn't respond, but slept on.
He darted his tongue out, parting her slowly, then dipped just slightly inside.
A little rush of warmth grew beneath his mouth, and he smiled to hear her sleepy
sigh. Encouraged, he poked his tongue a little deeper, still not making direct
contact with her innermost flesh, and ran it rhythmically back and forth, then
up and down against her labia.
Still not waking, Buffy gave a tiny whimper, and her body shifted automatically and opened her legs a little bit wider so her sex was fully open to him. Angel brought one hand up, and ran a fingertip gently through the motions his tongue had just completed. Spreading her with his fingers, he darted his tongue all the way inside, making contact with her swollen inner lips, lightly touching the very edge of her hot, tight opening, and relishing the sweet dampness that began to flow forth from her. He stiffened his tongue and eased it inside her tender entrance, and gently began to fuck her with his mouth.
Buffy's whimpers grew to soft moans, and softer sighs, but still
she didn't wake.
Angel brought his other hand up to join the first, and resting his palm against
the silky skin of her inner thighs, he tenderly pushed her legs further apart.
Then he buried his face deeply within her hot folds, running his tongue in a
long, slow, wet line from one end of her vagina to the other, ending with a tiny
sweep up her hard nub.
She cried out at the touch, and her hands automatically reached for him, softly
tangling her fingers in his hair, urging his face forward. Angel traveled the
length of her warmth again, ending up once more flicking his tongue over her
straining clitoris. Buffy mewled slightly, spreading her legs even wider, and
arching her hips toward his mouth.
He concentrated on the hard bundle of nerves beneath his tongue, lavishing it
with slow, gentle butterfly flicks, tracing tiny designs around and over it,
circling the nub itself and then trailing wetly back down the blazing path of
nerves to her opening. She was sopping wet now, moaning softly, then whimpering
in time with the increasing rhythm of his tongue. He brought it back to her now
positively throbbing clit, and tapped it firmly and evenly over the top and
around the base in a rapidly escalating cadence. He tickled her inner lips
gently with a fingertip, before sliding it deep inside her juices, and sealed
his lips tightly over the flashpoint of her arousal. He suckled it tenderly like
a nipple, still tapping the tip with his tongue, and slid another finger deep
inside. And after a moment, another.
Buffy moaned loudly, and writhed beneath him like a thing possessed. Angel could
hear his heart pounding in his ears, matching time with the pulse in her thigh
that he could feel against his cheek. He could feel her rushing to her peak, and
she cried out his name... still soft with the foggy half-awareness of sleep.
Angel quickly glided his body up hers, sheathing his cock deep inside her slick
heat, driving himself to the hilt as he sealed his lips over hers.
"OH, GOD!" she cried into his mouth, and wrapped her legs around his
waist, her body stretching automatically to accommodate his familiar girth.
Resting his weight on his knees and elbows, he took Buffy's face between his
hands and gently kissed and nibbled at her mouth, rocking firmly out, and then
back into her again. He let out a satisfied groan of his own as he gently
impaled her, slowly increasing his pace and pushing himself deeper.
Her back arched, and she skillfully used her strong legs to meet his powerful
thrusts.
Angel grunted deeply when he felt the first spasm of her inner muscles milking
him. Her body began to tense and quiver uncontrollably, and she gripped his
shoulders hard as he drove still deeper and faster into her core. He panted
furiously, dizzy with the rush of air through his lungs and the blood pumping
furiously through his body.
Her first cry of "ANGEL!" and her body's desperate clutching as she
came shot him over the edge. His vision shattered, and he cried out her name in
return as he plunged into her very center, filling her with the hot liquid of
his release.
The moment eased, and he kissed her softly, still moving in and out of her as
their breathing and heartbeats returned to normal. Buffy's body shivered with
warm satisfaction, and she smiled broadly, giving a tiny mewl as they both
throbbed once more at the place where their bodies were joined.
Angel softly touched his smile to hers, and she opened her eyes for the first
time.
" 'Morning," she purred sleepily.
He kissed her once again. "Good morning, beautiful."
Buffy sighed and stretched languidly, and wrapped her arms around him. Still
sheathed inside her, he settled, snuggling against her shoulder, and tapped her
throat with tiny kisses. She sighed happily once again and looked out at the
bright morning sunshine.
"Better than an alarm clock," she said.
"Mmm. And you're less likely to send me flying across the
room," Angel joked, lifting his face to look into hers.
She wrinkled up her nose at him and gave him a little grin, "Are you
kidding? For a wake-up call like that, I'd get up at dawn every day.
You wouldn't get a single whine from me."
Angel laughed and rolled off her, onto his back. Buffy shivered a little at the
sight of the sunbeams dancing across his skin where the sheet had fallen away,
and rolled to join him, resting her chin on his chest as she looked up at him
with doe eyes and a little mock-pout.
"Does this alarm clock come with breakfast?" she asked innocently.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Jeez... you don't ask for much, do you?"
She leered at him. "Hey... room service is room service. I'm hungry, and
it's all your fault."
He considered a retort for a moment, but suddenly his face softened and he
pulled her up for a kiss, then held her tightly against him without a reply.
Buffy burrowed lazily against his chest, resting her ear against his warm skin
so she could listen to the beautiful music of his heartbeat. He held her close
and sighed, enjoying the view of the morning through the window, the soft
vanilla scent of her hair mixed with the musk of their union, and the sweet
perfume of the flowers in the garden below.
"Let's just... stay here for a while," he answered softly.
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