Blood is Thicker than Love, and Twice as Seductive

Angelus smiled seductively as his eyes took in the stunning sight before him. Whilst he had been called away temporarily due to an unavoidable complication with his childe Dru and her aficionado Spike, his lover had amused herself with the blood of their latest victim. He could see it now: slowly running a razor-like fingernail across the unblemished skin of the unfortunate young girl he had captured for her, his lover had dipped her fingers into the dripping blood and lethargically traced intricate patterns across her own skin. The beautiful ivory was marred with crimson lines criss-crossing and intersecting at delicious angles, Angelus ached to lick them off her. He had no doubt this had been her intention all along, for the lines swirled and churned
randomly, yet they all led invariably to the luscious folds hidden between her long legs.

Leaning his shoulder indolently against the strong oak doorframe encasing the opulent suite he and his lover inhabited, he ran his tongue leisurely over his sharp fangs, imagining the tangy flavor of his lover’s pussy; a flavor he had never tired of, not in all the twenty-seven years they had spent tearing through the aristocratic population of Europe since he had sired her, that fateful night in Sunnydale…

“Were you able to appease them? I’d hate to have to interrupt our games again, I was just starting to get our guest to open up, to become comfortable with her surroundings…” His cohort said, the desperate struggles and the wide-eyed look of terror in the young captive’s eyes ironically contrasting with his lover’s gentle words.

“You know Dru, luv, every time she hears you screaming as I pound into you in the blood of the innocent she whines to join in. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were jealous, being so exclusatory and all…” Angelus said, coming up behind her and slipping a cold hand up her silky thigh. Smiling indulgently as the woman in his arms moaned deeply as his fingers slid over the remaining juices left over from their last brutal mating and the blood she had rubbed over her clit just moments before, Angelus shot a look of amusement at the tears running down their captive’s face.

“Angelus,” the woman purred, arching against his roaming hand, “You know I could care less if you indulged your childe in her little fantasies, Lucifer knows Spike would be less of a trial to live with if you gave his sire a good fuck every now and again.”

Angelus frowned at the woman rhythmically thrusting against his fingers, looking for release. Before, he had always enjoyed manipulating his vampiric family. Drusilla had always adored him, he had only to look at her and she was jumping to do his bidding. Spike also was almost painfully unproblematic to twist around his dexterous fingers. He grumbled and bitched, yet he still strived for Angelus’ approval, like a little puppy wanting a bone. Even Darla, before she had been dusted, had panted after him like a bitch in heat. He had a face that commanded worship, and a will that no one denied.

Well, almost no one.

She did. She held a power over him that was as powerful as it was unbreakable. Ever since he had met her, he had felt drawn to her, intoxicated by her scent. Yes, his pathetic ensouled self had resisted, defied the pull he felt towards her sweetly scented skin. Angel, his pathetic excuse for a redeemed being, had even gone to the length of distracting himself with the Slayer! Even now, the thought of his other half even touching such filth made his skin crawl. Remembering losing himself in Buffy’s arms, all the while imagining her best friend in her place, made him nauseous.

Shaking the disgusting memory from his mind, he suddenly stilled his hand and waited for his lover to turn around. As she did, he violently picked her up and flung her across the room, her long limbs falling gracefully spread-eagle as she landed on the massive silk bed. Snarling viciously at his brutality, she tossed her long tresses of scarlet curls and crossed her satiny legs, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

Angelus strolled slowly towards her, his own soft purrs answering her growling. He smiled at the stunning picture she made, the soft lines of her ivory limbs contrasting sharply with the black satin sheets. He felt a frisson of excitement course through his undead veins as he took in her defiant stare. She always tried to compete with him, to test his strength and resolve. At first, he reveled in this, thinking it was a novelty that he would relish breaking in her, yet no matter the amount of times she tried to take charge, both when they were making love and when they were hunting, he would resolvedly push her back down, relishing the high he got from taming her. Yet still, his little hellfire would battle for dominance, and his body bore the fading marks of her nails and her fangs to prove it.

Indolently, he shrugged of his silk robe and stood before her, grinning at her look of insolence. Slowly, he climbed on the bed and kneeled before her, his hands running down her smooth legs, uncrossing them and spreading them wide, methodically displaying her bared pussy to his voracious eyes. He shot her a quick grin, almost laughing at her forced look of disdain. Seamlessly, he knelt forward and imbedded himself fully in her tight snatch, causing both of them to groan at the sensation. Letting out a shared laugh at their captive’s strangled cries, they quickly stepped up the pace, loving the staggering ecstasy that they had come to expect from their joinings.

The woman gasped as Angelus used his large hands to hold her legs down, giving him complete control over the rough mating. Knowing their relationship was always a battle for supremacy, the woman snarled as she tried to shift her strength and flip his body over. Surprisingly, she felt his hands move to grip the soft curves of her ass, lifting her so they could switch positions. Suddenly, she was seated atop him, his hands bent leisurely behind his head, looking as if he could be as easily talking about the weather as fucking his soul mate into a feather mattress at a decadent Parisian hotel.

Tossing her glorious head of auburn hair, she leaned her limber body backwards slightly, causing her lover’s cock to repeatedly hit the luscious spot deep inside her, causing her to moan uncontrollably.


Angelus watched the woman atop of him hum with delight. The sight of her gorgeous bouncing breasts, her delicious spread thighs, and the look of pure ecstasy gracing her delicately beautiful features almost made him cum right there. Growling at the impending orgasm, he gripped her arms in a vice-like grip and once again switched their positions. Laughing at her outraged roar, he threw her down on the bed and flipped her over, running his cold hands down her sinuous back. Roughly spreading her thighs, he ploughed into her from behind, loving the way her combined rage and lust made her cunt grip him so tight he could almost see stars. Ramming into her repeatedly, he reveled in her moans and screams, muffled slightly by the pillow obstructing her mouth.

“You’re mine!” Angelus said, his hips pistoning in and out of her. “Mine!”

“Y-yes! Yours! Al-ways y-yours!” She answered.

“Tomorrow… I have a surprise for, oh fuck! I have a surprise for you,” Angelus said, elation causing him to be unable to think straight.

Knowing she was unable to form coherent sentences, but greatly curious, Angelus laughed as she inarticulately groaned and screamed into the pillow, unable to question him.

The two writhed and struggled together, the exquisite torture mounting with each thrust, each minute. Eventually, the beautiful woman beneath him spasmed against him, her orgasm ripping through her body and shredding her senses. Giving a horse shout, Angelus’ thrusts grew irregular and his climax burst, his senses went into overdrive and he collapsed on his lover, loving the way she shuddered in post-orgasmic bliss.

In time, Angelus gathered the beauty in his arms and rolled over, sprawling her elegantly over his muscled form. Moaning slightly, the woman stretched languorously and smiled devilishly at him. “A surprise, you say?” She said, bending down to run her tongue over his hard chest.

His eyelids drooped as he slid his fingers into her hair and urged her on. “Patience is a virtue, luv.”

“So is goodwill towards all men, but that doesn’t stop me from eating them,” she replied, her tongue tracing patterns downwards.

Angelus laughed but chose not to respond, save for a lengthy groan as her hot mouth enclosed over his already re-aroused cock.

He may not have been able to love, for love was a weakness neither of them were stupid enough to indulge in, but there was one thing in this world he needed, craved and lusted for, and that was his little Willow.