Gypsy Dreams

Title: Gypsy Dreams (A page from Angels Journal)
Author: rosekk2000
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, but boy do I wish it was.
Authors Note: The fates are often cruel sisters, twisting the will
of man to suit themselves. Now imagine that in cursing Angelus the
gypsies also cursed the very soul they sought to avenge. Leaving
her cursed to dwell in the darkened shadows that surround Angelus/
Angel until his final death or redemption.


July 12th, 2003

It's hot out, sweltering in fact, but it isn't the heat that has
driven me from my bed. It was the dream. The dream I've been
having for more years than I can count. First it only came to
my conscious mind in bits and pieces, scrambled remains of
unimportant thoughts. But now, tonight I remember. Clear,
sharp, in living color, blindingly real in my mind.

Its cold and dark, moisture caresses my skin like a long lost lover.
There is nothing but me, the darkness, and the mist swirling and
dancing in the night. She comes then wrapped in a cloak of mist,
thick black ringlets of hair framing her heart-shaped face and
flowing freely over her shoulders and across her breast.

The scent of wildflowers, earth, and campfire fill my nostrils as
she approaches. She speaks not a word choosing instead to convey
her thoughts with the gentle pleading of her soft brown eyes.
Pleading wasted on me for I lack understanding of what it is she
wants, but still she tries.

I'm transfixed, unable to move, held by her pain. Pain born of
sorrow and something else I can't quite place. Pain shining
brightly in her eyes so plain that even I can see it. She stops
mere inches from me, her presence is overwhelming, threatening to
consume me.

She leans in her soft lips gently brushing mine. They feel cool
even against mine; and she tastes sweet. Suddenly I find
myself wanting more, but she pulls away the pain replaced with a
look of amusement. Slender hands reach out tracing the sharp
angles of my face, trailing slowly down across my chest, down my
arms, coming to rest in my hand.

I feel her chilled fingers close over my hand and I watch in silence
as she moves, guiding my hand to her. I only blink as my hand
disappears into the rich folds of her black velvet cloak finding
the soft flesh hidden beneath.

A deep sigh escapes for her lips as my hand moves sliding over the
gentle curve of her breast. Instinctively my thumb slides sideways
across the rise of her hardening nipple and I smile. This I
understand, this I can control, this I can do, and do very well.

She shifts, her cloak falling open to reveal the sensual beauty of
her supple young body. Still we say nothing. My hand slides down
cupping her breast as my lips find the hard pebble of her nipple,
my tongue dances teasingly across the puckered flesh. I can feel
her tiny fingers laced within my hair as she seeks to hold me
there, suckling at her breast. But I'm in charge now and I shift
slightly, moving back and forth between the twin globes of her
flesh, teasing each one with great care.

One hand moves down, trailing across the smooth plane of her stomach
and tracing the curve of her hip. She shifts slightly, placing one
tiny foot on something unseen in the darkness and opening herself up
to me. I drop to my knees trailing wet kisses as I go. Her scent
is strong in my nostrils, hot and musky, hungry for me and I know
what she wants.

My fingers move sliding over her sweet pink flesh, spreading her
open, making way for my tongue. She is sweet to the taste and her
soft moans of pleasure spur me on. I lock my lips over the swollen
nub of her clit and she bucks against me, fingers tangled once more
in my hair pulling me to her wet, willing flesh. In no time I am
rewarded with a sweet rush of her juices as she trembles violently
in release, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

She recovers quickly, and shaking fingers fumble wildly with the
button of my jeans. I move to help her but she is hungry now and
needs none. She pushes me to the ground as she pulls my pants from
my body. She smiles briefly and then rips the silken fabric of my
boxers from my body.

She climbs up my body leaving a trail of tiny kisses until she is a
straddle me, the hardened flesh of my cock rubbing against the
warmth of her womanhood. She smiles shifting this way and that,
rising up slightly to allow me entrance. A growl escapes from deep
in my chest as I feel myself slide into her. The walls of her
pussy burning the flesh of my cock with her need. I can feel her
muscles gripping me, squeezing me, milking me, driving me crazy
with her desire.

She rides me hard and wild, with a desperate need. Small hands rip
away the thin silk of my shirt, baring my chest to her hunger. She
bites down hard on the puckered flesh of my nipples, neck and ears.
I can feel her body tense up and she rides me harder still, needing
some release. A warm flood of fluid washes over my cock, triggering
my release as well.

Her small body slumps forward, her naked breast pressing into my
chest. Surprisingly she is cool against me, cold even. She
shifts, her lips gently brushing my ear and she speaks.

"I forgive you Angelus."

Then I am awake here alone in my room with nothing but the moonlight
and my thoughts. Who is she? Why does she call me Angelus? What
does she want from me? For one brief moment I think perhaps she
wants to forgive me for something Angelus did. Its possible, after
all there were so many he hurt. But no, why should anyone forgive
him... me? We don't deserve their forgiveness, perhaps he... I
never will.


Prologue:

She stands alone in the shadow of the vampire. Watching as he
writes in his journal, same as he does each time she tries to
reach him. Waiting for a sign that he has accepted her
forgiveness, praying that he will.

He does not, she watches as he closes the book a heavy sigh escaping
from his lips as he whispers.

"Why would she forgive us?"

She stands alone in the shadow of the vampire, and if only he would
listen he could her crying in the night.

The End