Birthday
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Author: Dark Star Summary: It's Buffy's
birthday… Disclaimer: Joss
Whedon is creator and owner of
all things Angel Rating: Adult Pairing: B/A Category: Fluff - no
plot Written for the Angel
Elders Birthday. Oh - and Ares? Since I
couldn't do what you wanted on the Project - will this do? ** Buffy found Angel
sitting at the desk in the office. He smiled a greeting when he saw her, and
held out his hand. She went to him without hesitation, and let him pull her
closer. She perched on the edge of the desk, and leant down to kiss him
gently. After, Angel said, “I’m
sorry I missed your birthday. But I have something for you.” Buffy watched with eager
anticipation as he pulled open the desk drawer and drew out an oblong parcel.
The parcel was wrapped in red paper and had a little silver bow on it, and
Angel passed the package across to her. Buffy thanked him and took the gift,
carefully removing the bow and unwrapping the paper to reveal a black velvet
box. With trembling fingers she opened up the velvet box to expose a silver
necklace. “It’s beautiful,” she
whispered, taking the necklace by its delicate chain and holding it up to the
light. The crystal that hung
suspended from the silver chain shimmered in the dim light, tiny freckles of
colour that sparkled around the stone like a miniature halo. “I love it.” “Here.” Angel stood up
and took the pendant from her hand. He went behind her, swept her blonde hair
to one side and fastened the chain round her neck. “Thank you,” Buffy said
again, reaching up to pull his head down for another kiss. When the kiss
ended, Angel sat on the desk with her and draped an arm round her shoulders. “You can wear it
tomorrow when I take you out,” Angel informed her. “We’re going out?” Buffy
asked in surprise. “We are,” he confirmed.
“I thought you might like to go somewhere for a change.” “That would be nice,”
she agreed. “But why not tonight?” “I have something else
planned for tonight,” he told her. “Something new.” He smiled slightly. “And
painful.” “Painful?” she repeated
in a small voice. “Yeah, “ he grinned.
“Painful.” He paused, then explained, “We’re going shopping.” Buffy blinked; the
thought of Angel going shopping with her – and without twisting his arm – was
awe-inspiring. “I didn’t expect that,”
she mused. “Are we going for groceries?” “Clothes,” he corrected.
“For you.” He watched her eyes open in wonder and added, “I’ll pay for them.
But there's one condition - I get to say what I like on you." This was just too
bizarre to take in, and Buffy wasn’t certain what to make of it. She had to
admit to being curious as to what Angel would find attractive, and it
appealed to her to have a new wardrobe of clothes to leave here with Angel. Buffy was surprised by
some of Angel’s choices; she’d had the disturbing image in her mind that he
might want to dress her all in black, complete with black duster, but
fortunately that had turned out to be wrong. Mostly, he chose
different types of dresses for her. Full length dresses, shorter mid-calf
length dresses, and one beautiful burgundy ‘posh’ dress for use if they went
somewhere 'special.' Many of dresses were
fairly plain, with figure hugging curves and clean lines, and had none of the
frills and flounces that she thought that he would like. Some were downright
tarty, with slashed seams and obscene necklines; a few he bought simply
because she loved them so much. He also bought her
matching shoes, and Buffy smiled at the obvious influence that Cordelia must
have had on him. Finally, he purchased lots of underwear, gorgeous
confections of satin and lace, and Buffy couldn’t wait to wear them for him. After transporting all
of the bags and packages back to the hotel, Buffy had a wonderful hour or so
modelling everything for him in privacy. Angel’s appreciation was obvious,
and although some of the clothes weren’t exactly what she would have chosen
herself, she loved the adoring way that he was looking at her; she felt
beautiful and sexy under his intense scrutiny. Angel selected a set of
satin baby blue underwear for her to keep on at the end of her fashion
parade, and watched as she happily packed everything away in the drawers and
closets that he had allocated to her. It was what she had wanted to do in
Sunnydale, but had never been allowed to before. Not only did she have her
own things that she could use when she visited Angel, but also the
domesticity of it all made her feel as though they were a ‘proper couple’ at
last. By this time it was very
late, and Angel suggested it was time to turn in. Buffy was really tired, but
she was still very excited, and she wasn’t certain that she would be able to
sleep. Angel informed her that sleep wouldn’t be a problem, and she realised
that the evening wasn’t over yet. Buffy went off to the
bathroom before turning in. When she returned, dressed in her new underwear,
she found Angel lying stark naked on top of the bed waiting for her. Buffy paused, mesmerised
by the sight; he looked good, lying confidently on his back, and she
hesitated, wondering what she was expected to do. “Go to the bottom of the
bed, “ he suggested helpfully. Buffy did as he asked,
and waited at the end of the bed, wondering if she was being incredibly
stupid, because she didn't know what it was that he wanted from her. “Come to me.” His voice was low and
sensual, and Buffy swallowed nervously.
She climbed carefully onto the bed, where she crouched tentatively
over his feet. Angel had told her once that when the women were called for in
the Harems, they weren’t allowed to approach their master directly; it was
customary to crawl respectfully up his body and pleasure him. Buffy wasn’t certain how
respectful she felt, but the position did have the effect of making her feel
subservient to him. That was an alien thought to her, and as she crawled
along his body on her hands and knees, she deliberately rubbed herself
against him in a blatant display of defiance. It felt good; skin on skin, and the chafing of her breasts
– encased in the baby blue satin - against his body excited her. She tried to
clasp her thighs together in the forlorn hope of curbing the ache between her
legs, and it didn't help that she knew that her movements were arousing the
hell out of her partner. When her head was level
with his groin, he growled, “Stop.” Buffy stopped
immediately, and waited expectantly for the obvious instruction. “Lick it,” he told her.
“Like a lollipop.” Buffy paused and glared
reproachfully at him. A lollipop? Oh,
please… Angel shrugged,
unrepentant. He didn’t care how original she thought he was, just as long as
she took him in her mouth. Buffy leant down, her breath
tickling his skin, and ran her tongue slowly along the underside of his
shaft. Angel shuddered, and closed his eyes so that he could lose himself in
the amazing sensations that her mouth was giving him. Buffy’s talented tongue
licked, lapped, and caressed. She stroked his entire length; she swirled her
tongue round the leaking tip, and she teased him with barely-there touches. Angel groaned, a deep
reverberation in his chest. He had only intended to let her lap at him for a
while, before getting her to carry on moving upwards. But she was so damn
good at what she was doing, that he didn’t want her to stop. “Suck it,” he hissed,
and when her hot mouth finally encompassed him, he almost arched right off
the bed. “Jeeeeez,” he moaned. Excited by the effect
that she was having on him, Buffy bobbed her head, taking a little more of
him with each downward stroke.
Angel’s body pushed up to meet her, his movements growing jerkier by
the moment. Then he was coming, spilling over her tongue, and Buffy drank him
down eagerly. Panting, Angel finally
became aware of Buffy’s wide-eyed attention on him, and he had the grace to
feel embarrassed. Whose birthday was it, anyway? Clearing his throat, he
managed to croak, “Come to me.” Buffy willingly complied,
crawling up his still tingling body, and squirmed against him with the
undeniable needs of her own body. She kept crawling, up and up, and only when
her knees reached his shoulders did he tell her to stop. Angel’s hands went to
her hips, and he pulled her down to his waiting mouth. He pulled aside the
tiny scrap of damp blue satin, and Buffy wailed as his tongue explored her;
she ground frantically down on his face in a desperate attempt to cure the
aching longing deep inside her. “Angel…..” she moaned,
squirming urgently against him, and he wriggled a hand between their bodies,
searching for the opening. She moaned again when he pushed a finger inside
her tight channel, and proceeded to pleasure her with it. At the same time,
he lapped at her throbbing clit, and she hurtled over the precipice with a
shrill wail. When her thoughts slowly
returned to her, she realised that neither Angel’s finger nor his tongue was
inside her, and that he was staring up at her with a smug pleasure. She
settled back against his chest, her legs feeling very unsteady, and Angel’s
hands instantly began to caress her hips. “I love you, “ he said
softly. “I love you,” she
confirmed, forcing her tired legs to move, and she wriggled back down his
chest so that she could stretch her body over his. She was so very tired, and
she began to drift away into sleep. Just before she let it claim her, she
heard Angel murmur, “Happy Birthday, Buffy.” End Return to Fiction Index
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