Chapter XIV

At her request, Angel dropped Buffy off at her apartment to get ready for their evening out.  After he showered, he dressed hurriedly in the suit he’d picked up earlier from the cleaners.  Even this short amount of time was more than he cared to spend away from her.

When he arrived to pick her up to meet Cordelia and Wesley her heart skipped one or two beats at the sight of him in his tux.  He was devastating.  Buffy thought, with his dark hair and velvety deep brown eyes along with his classic features that he looked like he’d stepped out of a dream.  His broad shoulders seemed to want to burst out of the straining material.  She’d been all in favor of helping them do just that.  Leaving the apartment was a feat all by itself.

Angel, who as a rule, had no lack of discipline, found he had absolutely none when it came to Buffy.  She opened the door when he knocked and he almost fell in when he saw her.  She was a vision wearing a provocative, emerald green, silk cocktail dress.  There wasn’t a curve hidden as it clung to her like a second skin.  Her hair was a fire of gold and her eyes were like glittering green jewels, matching the color of her dress.  Breathtaking didn’t begin to cover it, he thought.  In fact he couldn’t think of a word that had been made to describe how she made him feel.  ‘Love’ was all he had, but it seemed there should be more words to capture all she was to him.

One look ignited a fire that raced through him and he pulled her into a passionate embrace.  It took all his willpower to keep from picking her up and heading for her bedroom.  Instead, after several heated kisses that she shared with equal fervor, he regained control of himself with a concerted effort.  He calmed down enough to lead her outside and help her into the car.

He couldn’t believe he had let Cordy talk him into going out, then rephrased it to ‘forced’, admitting to himself that she’d given him little choice in the matter.  Cordelia had insisted that Angel and Buffy meet her and her boyfriend, Wesley, while he was in town.  So now here Angel sat next to the most ravishing woman on earth and he had to share her with his sister and her boyfriend for an evening of dinner and dancing.  Every time he took his eyes off the road to glance over at his deliciously dressed lover a certain part of his body made it clear what he’d rather be doing.  ‘Can’t do that all the time,’ he mused as he chuckled softly, tempting as the idea was.

“Care to share?” his companion asked in a soft, sultry voice as he felt a slim hand slide onto his thigh.

Angel swallowed hard, his pants growing even tighter as his glance caught her openly lustful gaze.  It had been unseasonably warm for the past couple days, even for the West Coast.  He felt the temperature rise, knowing it had nothing to do with the weather.  “If I do, chances are we’d never make it to the restaurant,” he said honestly, trying to control his breathing and watch where he was going.

It was Buffy’s turn to chuckle as she listened to his swift intake of air.  She couldn’t believe how her shy, quiet Angel had turned into an unquenchable sex maniac overnight.  Not that she was complaining, nor had she since he’d so recently become one.  Releasing one more evil sounding chuckle she thought of all she’d done to help him ‘overcome’ his problem.

“And that would be a bad thing, how?”  Buffy snickered back at him, as she caught him smiling at her wicked laugh.

He laughed then, a sound Buffy had heard more often the past few days then in all the time she’d known Angel.  “You don’t know Cordelia,” he said.

“Not well,” Buffy answered, “But I know she loves you.”

That sobered him for a moment as he thought of Cordy saying those words when he had called her.  Although he had laid many ghosts to rest during his weekend with Buffy, he still wasn’t comfortable with the subject.  To find she’d gotten the bare facts from Cordelia had prompted him to call his sister about it.

“Cordelia,” he said in a tight voice when she answered the phone.

Cordy had been waiting for his call.  She knew after sharing Angel’s past with Buffy that it was only a matter of time before she heard from him.  “Angel?  Wow, did you lose your calendar?  It’s not even a Wednesday,” she rattled on, waiting for the blast.  It wasn’t long in coming.

“I hear you made a visit while I was away,” Angel said, ignoring her vain attempt at humor.

“Yes, I did,” Cordy replied in her trademark straightforward manner.  She knew he would be angry, but if he thought she’d be afraid of him – well, she wasn’t.

“You had no business telling Buffy …” his voice starting to rise before she cut him off.

“And you would have, Angel?” she snapped.

“It wasn’t up to you to make that decision,” he growled.

“Maybe not, but I knew you wouldn’t and she had a right to know.  She loves you,” Cordelia shot back.  “And you love her, don’t you?” she asked.

“That’s not the point …” he managed to get out before she interrupted him again.

“That’s exactly the point!” she exclaimed. “Tell me, Angel, honestly.  What happened after I told her?”

“It doesn’t make any difference ...” Angel started, not getting much further than before.

“Just answer the question, Angel!" she demanded, “Tell me she didn’t make you talk to her about it.  Tell me she doesn’t love you.”

She heard Angel’s labored breathing, then after a few eternally long moments, he said softly and wonderingly, “She does love me.”

Cordelia felt a grin smugly plant itself across her lips.  She’d been hoping, praying and dying for Angel to call her and tell her exactly that for days.  “Angel,” she told him more softly after she’d enjoyed her moment of triumph, “I’m sorry if you’re angry with me, but I love you.  Yes, I interfered and met Buffy when you weren’t there.  I knew the first time I heard her say your name that she loved you.  It wasn’t fair to her, Angel, or you.  I couldn’t let you throw away your one chance of happiness.”

Angel had tried to hold onto his anger, but he knew, in spite of her meddling, she was right.  He could hear how happy Cordy was for him in her voice and he couldn’t deny her that.  “I suppose then,” he said thinking about a certain golden-haired fighter who wouldn’t give up either, “you expect me to thank you?”

Cordy laughed into the phone, tears standing in her eyes, “Yes, Angel, a thank you would be really nice.”

“Thank you, Cordy,” he said simply.

“You’re more than welcome ... and it’s about time!” she ended.

“Yes, I know Cordy loves me and she also knows I hate to get dressed up and go out,” Angel finally replied as he came back to his conversation with Buffy.

“You can’t blame her for wanting to see us together in person.”  Buffy knew how much Cordelia was looking forward to this evening.  She was the one who had made the arrangements with his sister after Angel had finished talking to her.  “And the fun,” Buffy promised him, “will be later when we get un-dressed up.”

He started getting warm all over again.

A short time later, Angel found he had forgotten just how beautiful his own sister was as he stood and watched her enter the restaurant on the arm of a tall, thin, dark-haired man.  She was dressed in a crimson gown that accentuated her abundant gifts to a fault.  There wasn’t an eye that wasn’t drawn to her as the pair made their way across the room.

“Angel, this is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.  Wesley, my brother, Liam Angelus,” Cordelia introduced them.  “And this,” she said, after he shook hands with Angel, “is Buffy Summers.”

Wesley nodded politely to Buffy, giving her an open, warm smile before returning his attention to Cordelia's brother.  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Liam,” Wesley greeted him, “If I may call you that.”

“Have you?” Angel queried, cocking an eyebrow at his sister.

“Relax, bro, I didn’t tell him that much.” Cordy swatted Angel lightly. “I warned him if I did you’d have to kill him.”

They all sat down and ordered drinks from the waiter.  Cordelia had chosen the restaurant and, of course, it suited her with the dramatic black leather clamshell enclosure that surrounded them and their table.  Cordelia and Buffy both glimmered within it, catching the eyes and breath of their respective dates.  Only the finest crystal and cutlery were laid out before them.  Buffy thought it was a bit rich for her tastes, but she enjoyed the privacy it afforded them.  Although Angel showed a new ease when in her presence, she knew he still abhorred being in places with large groups of people.  She was sure Cordelia had been of the same mind when she made the reservations.

Cordy could see that Buffy was making every effort to keep Angel from being uncomfortable, but thought amusingly, she didn’t really have to work at it.  Even in the company of his sister and her boyfriend, Angel couldn’t tear his eyes off the dainty, green-eyed beauty nestled beside him.  And Cordelia found she couldn’t take her eyes off Angel.  This was ‘Angel’, her brother.  At least he looked like the man she remembered.  But he was smiling and, oh God, laughing!  She had a dim memory of how he did that once very long ago.  The light glowing in his eyes matched the one in Buffy’s.  They were polite to their companions, but it seemed neither could keep their attention away from the other.

Cordelia wasn't the crying type, but she forced herself more than once not to do just that while watching her brother fawning over his beautiful golden goddess.  She’d waited so long for the impossible to happen and there it finally was in front of her.  Cordy still wasn't sure she even liked Buffy Summers, but she was realistic enough to concede to herself that it didn't make much difference.  Angel loved Buffy and after all his years in painful self-imposed isolation he needed her, badly. Not to mention that Cordy knew what Angel was like once his mind was made up.  He would never allow anyone or anything to come between he and Buffy, even his sister.  She could live with that as long as Buffy never hurt him.  But the look Buffy returned to Angel was just as intensely loving and adoring as his own.  Neither of them could stop touching the other, sitting closely, twining their fingers together.  There was no doubt the two were deeply in love.  Cordy sat back and feasted her eyes on the sight.  It had been a long time coming and she figured she deserved to enjoy it.

After their dinner was served Wesley cleared his throat to get Angel’s attention, “I’ve been trying to convince your sister of the benefits of the East Coast as opposed to the West,” he told him.  “She seems to think her career can only flourish in the dubious shadows of Hollywood.  I thought, perhaps, you could support my argument that ‘real’ acting is to be found in New York.”

“Tell the truth, Wes,” Cordelia interjected, “You prefer the East and want me in it for your convenience.”

Wesley laughed dryly, “I would hardly think of you as convenient in any sense of the word,” he told her.

Angel laughed, a sound that Cordelia thought she could get used to, coming from him.  “He already seems to know you well, Cordy.”  Turning his gaze suddenly to Wesley, Angel questioned him, rather severely, “It is her best intentions you have in mind, right?”

He looked at Wesley so piercingly the other man felt as though he was being interrogated.  “O-of course,” Wesley stammered, surprised at the sudden change in Angel’s demeanor.  One moment he was smiling softly at the petite blonde tucked securely within his embrace, the next he morphed into a rather daunting inquisitor.

“Down, boy,” Cordy directed her brother, placing a hand warningly on his arm.  “I’ll be the judge of my male friends’ character, if you don’t mind.”  Glancing back to Wesley she said, “Sorry, Wes, he’s the overprotective type, should have warned you.  I’d forgotten just how protective he can be.  You might want to take note of that, Buffy.”

Buffy chuckled as Angel reddened slightly, “Umm, think I’ve seen that side of him, Cordelia,” she said, thinking of Riley, then Lindsey, knowing Angel was having similar thoughts.  Feeling a bit sorry for poor Wesley and in an attempt to hide Angel’s embarrassment, she asked, “You live in New York, Wesley?”

“Yes,” Wesley answered hesitantly, now keeping one eye on Angel, “but, I’m forced to travel extensively, the West Coast in particular.  I suppose I call neither place home any longer.”

“What is it you do, Wes?” Angel asked with what he considered to be normal curiosity.  The woman on either side of him both gave him points for trying, but Wesley’s nervous reply showed Angel had a ways to go before he reached normal.

“I’m a lawyer for the talent agency where Cordelia is signed.  They have a considerable number of listings on both coasts,” he supplied.  “Although I have had no dealings with the contracts she’s presently agreed upon,” Wesley added primly.

“Wes doesn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure,” Cordy smiled.

It was Wesley’s turn to blush a little.  “I was merely pointing out that we are not professionally connected.  I have no ulterior motives for seeking your company.”

“Just the normal motives of any red-blooded man, right?”  Cordelia teased.

Wesley flushed even more deeply in response.  “Cordelia …” he fumbled for an answer.

“Just kidding, Wes!  Nervous much?” Cordy laughed, then caught Wesley sheepishly looking in Angel’s direction.  “Honest, Wesley, Angel doesn’t bite.  He just growls convincingly,” she laughed again.  “C’mon, Angel, I want to see if you remember how to dance and don’t worry, I’m sure Wesley will be the pinnacle of propriety if he dances with Buffy.”  With that she caught her brother by the hand, looking at him commandingly.

Angel lifted his investigatory look from Wesley and tried silently begging with Cordelia not to force him to dance, but to no avail.

“I didn’t teach you how to dance just to have you choke up on me now,” she grinned wickedly.

“No,” Angel countered, still giving her pleading looks, “but as I recall I wasn’t given any choice then either.”

"Hey!  Can't pin that on me," she reminded him, "I did you a favor, secret agent man."

Angel shook his head with the ghost of a smile, "Even your lessons didn't keep me from sticking out like a sore thumb," he told her, "I was so bad doing surveillance at that ball, they ended up putting me in a van to watch it from a monitor."  At Buffy's deeply curious look he explained, "They were desperate for dancers to mingle, but seems I only dance well with shadows."

Both Cordelia and Buffy burst out laughing at Angel's unusual stab at humor while Wesley looked on mystified.  Still smiling, Cordelia dragged her brother away in spite of his protests, motioning to Wesley to follow them with Buffy.

Once on the dance floor Cordelia told her brother, “You don’t have to scare my men away, Angel,” she smiled, “I can do that all by myself if I need to.”

“I’m sorry, Cordy,” Angel sighed, “I, uh … didn’t mean to …”

“Give him the third degree?” Cordy finished for him. “Yes, you did and I love you for it, but I don’t want Wesley to swim away before I reel him in.”

Angel’s eyes had wandered helplessly to where Wesley was dancing with Buffy.  He couldn’t keep them from finding and settling on the center of his universe.  At Cordelia’s words, he tore them away from Buffy and looked down at his sister sharply, “Reel him in?  That sounds serious coming from you,” he said.

“I’ll never know if he doesn’t live through the night, will I?” she scolded him gently.

“Okay, okay,” Angel relented, “I won’t say another word to him,” he promised as his eyes were drawn back irresistibly to the other couple.  He knew Wesley had no interest in Buffy, he knew that.  But, it didn’t stop the possessive feeling from overtaking him anyway.

“I don’t want you to ignore him, Angel,” Cordy told him, “just don’t eat him.”  Her gaze followed Angel’s, “And I promise, he’ll give Buffy back to you just the way he found her.”   Then she looked back up at him,  “Angel,” she said more softly, “I, umm, brought you something I thought you might like to have.”

He dragged his eyes back once more to his sister with an enquiring look.

Cordelia opened the tiny purse that matched her outfit and handed Angel a small, worn looking, velvet-covered box.  At the question written on his face she nodded at him to open it.  Inside Angel found two very familiar rings, very old and very beautiful.  They were identical except for size, one being much larger than the other, and a stone in the smaller one.  The first, which was obviously a man’s ring, was made of platinum with an intricate design of a heart topped by a crown and a hand holding either side.  The smaller ring differed only in the heart being filled with an exquisite diamond.

“Cordy,” Angel breathed, “are these …” he couldn’t get the rest of the words out as he fingered the smaller ring.

She merely nodded.

Angel’s great-grandfather had given the rings to his grandson on his deathbed and told him the rings belonged to whomever it was who found their true love.  The tale and the rings had always fascinated Angel for some reason, even after the terrible things that happened when he was young.  His father had often told him the rings were there for Angel if he ever found the love of his life.

“How did you …” Angel still couldn’t finish a sentence.

“Shh …” Cordy whispered, “Mom and Dad don’t know I took them, but they wouldn’t care.  They were always meant for you.  I thought you might want to have them.”  She saw Angel’s expression as he looked at the rings reverently.

“I-I don’t deser …” was as far as he got.

“Angel!” Cordy fumed at him, “If you dare say you don’t deserve some happiness, I swear I’ll give the damn ring to Buffy myself!” she threatened him.

“Cordelia,” he said in a desperate voice, “What do I have to offer her?”

“Yourself, Angel,” Cordy answered without hesitation.  “Has Buffy ever asked you for more than that?”

“But,” he tried to continue.

“No, ‘buts’, Angel,” Cordy told him, “Give the girl the choice, don’t make it for her.”

Angel smiled at that, “You sound just like her,” he said softly, as his gaze once more found the subject of their conversation.

He tucked the box inside a deep pocket of his jacket and steered them over to Buffy and Wesley.  “If you don’t mind, Wesley,” Angel asked as calmly as he could, “may I cut in?”

Wesley stepped away without a word, taking Cordelia’s hand and dancing away.

Angel looked down at the lovely woman before him and whispered softly, “Dance with me?”

She beamed up at him fully aware of the possessive way he had moved in front of Wesley before the man barely had time to get out of his path.  Her heart melted at the love that stared down at her from dark, soulful eyes and she lifted her arms, still smiling, in silent acquiescence.

Buffy was light as a feather as they moved slowly to the music, his cheek resting gently on her head.  He started out with a hand around her waist, holding one hand in his, but he couldn’t draw her near enough.  Enveloping her with both arms, he caged her tightly against him, so close he could feel her heartbeat with his.  Buffy gave no protest, surrounded by a dream and waltzing on a cloud.  She thought if she could write her own fairy tale with a happily ever after, this would be hers.  He made her feel like a princess and he was all the Prince Charming she could ever ask for.

*****

On the ride home, once they’d made their good-byes to Cordy and Wesley, Angel pulled over suddenly and stopped the car.  Not saying a word to Buffy, he came around to open her door.  She was so startled, he was out of the car before a question could escape her lips.  He stopped her both in word and motion by pressing a finger to her lips.  She watched as he took off his shoes and socks.  Kneeling down first to remove her shoes, he helped her out of the car.

The air was thick and warm, still caught in the unexpected heat wave of the last few days.  Never making a sound, he clasped her hand and tugged her gently along.  Buffy was so mystified, she kept her eyes on Angel as he led her carefully through the soft sand along a path only he knew.  After a little while they came to a steep bank, Angel picked her up and carried her.  Once he safely navigated his way to the bottom, he settled his precious cargo on her feet.  He looked down on her as a secret smile played on his lips, then nodded his head in front of him.

Buffy drew in her breath as she followed his gaze.  They were standing on a tiny secluded beach, surrounded by sand dunes.  The sky, a clear midnight blue was scattered with clouds of stars.  There was a full moon, round and yellow, sitting almost on the water, shining a wide track across the gently waving sea.  But what caught her breath was the sand.  It lay twinkling and glittering, reflecting the moonlight as if the stars had come down to earth.  She couldn’t help but remember the fairy tale feeling she had dancing with Angel earlier.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered as if talking out loud would break the spell.

“I’d forgotten all about it until tonight when we passed this way,” he whispered back, caught in the same enchantment.  “I wandered across it a long time ago when I was on an assignment, but it turned out to be a false lead.  I don’t think anyone even knows it’s here.”  Reaching his arm around her shoulders, he guided her across the beach to a small alcove.  “I used to come here back then, when I wanted to be alone.  I never brought anyone here.   I-it was my secret,” he faltered.

Buffy was so taken by the scene she couldn’t think of anything to say.

"So beautiful," he echoed, but when she turned to look at him, he was gazing down at her.

He pulled her back against his chest and slid his arms around her waist as they looked out over the sparkling sands and the quiet surf, bathed in moonlight.  The softly shining trail ended at their feet.  “I don’t ever want to have anymore secrets from you – even this,” he breathed. “I want to spend eternity with you.”  He bent by her ear. “Stay with me?” his voice cracking with the undertone of his need for her.

Feeling his love flowing into her, filling her heart and soul, she looked at the stars glimmering across the vastness.  How often, she wondered, did it ever happened that two people could be as deeply in love as she knew she always would be with Angel.  “Forever,” she promised him softly, “that’s the whole point.”

Angel summoned up every bit of courage he possessed.  He still believed she was entitled to more than he had to give her, but the thought of a lifetime without her in it was unbearable.  He knew he was being selfish.  Even if it was Buffy’s decision, he wondered if there would come a day she would be sorry for it.  There was still a part of him missing, undone, and he didn’t know how to get it back or finish it.  But he had to let her make the choice and he had to know.  Now that Cordy had given him the rings, they felt like they were burning a hole in his heart.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the small box.  Turning her to face him, he handed it to her.  After she opened it, he heard her breath catch as she stared at the contents.  He lifted the smaller ring out and told her, “My people ... they exchanged this as a sign of devotion.”

Buffy looked from the ring up to him, then back down at it as he explained, “It's a Claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty.  The heart, well, you know ...  Wear it with the heart pointing towards you, it means you belong to somebody.  It was a custom in Ireland back then, if you exchanged rings and consummated the vows that it was the same as being married.”

Buffy was so overwhelmed she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move her eyes as Angel removed the other ring, tucking the box back in his pocket.  She looked at them lying in his hand and finally reached up her own hand and closed it over them, looking up into his eyes, smiling.

“Do you want to belong to me?” she finally asked in a hushed whisper.

“Do you even have to ask?” he questioned softly.

“I already belong to you,” she told him.

Angel felt the lump in his throat as she lifted her hand and held it out to him.  He slipped the ring on her finger with the heart pointing towards her.  Her hand trembled as she took the other ring out of his hand and slid it onto his finger in the same direction.  Buffy leaned in and kissed the ring she had just placed there, then watched as Angel lifted her small hand and felt his lips against her fingers as he kissed her ring in return.  Their promises needed no spoken word.  She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, matching the ones in his.

 “Please don’t cry,” he softly pleaded.  The pads of his thumbs came up to catch them before they fell as he held her face, gazing at her with so much love Buffy thought she would die right there.

She laughed tremulously, smiling up at him, “But you’re crying too.  And these are happy tears.”

Angel could count on his fingers the times he had ever cried, but this … this was one of them.  It still pained him to see tears on that small, exquisite face.  He wanted to make her happy, he never wanted her to cry.  Thinking of how pleased she was only a short time ago suddenly inspired him.  He gazed into those eyes, those beautiful, mesmerizing, hazel eyes and asked once again, “Dance with me?”

She giggled-cried, looking first at him with a smile that lit his world, then down at her toes scrunching themselves into the sand.  “I … umm … lost a few inches with my shoes.”

He held her arms, slipping one foot under hers, tipping her, allowing her to stand on both of his feet.  She had such a look of open glee on her face that he grinned.  Moving her in slow circles across the sand, arms tightly holding each other, they danced to a melody they heard in their hearts.  Buffy felt like she was floating, that they could travel to the stars if they just held on and kept dancing.  She kept looking at the small star twinkling on her finger knowing in some way they had already reached them.

Angel couldn’t see the stars, his attention was firmly fixed on the heavenly body he had captured in his arms.  He had kept her in his arms and in his bed, any and every time he’d had the chance.  He had a lifetime of emptiness he was making up for and only one thing filled it … Buffy.  Since they’d made up and made love after they argued, he had been insatiable.  Now he would make her his … forever.  Just thinking about her made his blood simmer – touching her, all reason fell away.

She felt his arousal pressed firmly against her stomach, setting off a responding flame that shot to her core.  She ground against him, bringing her arms tighter around his waist.  He groaned, tipping her head back and capturing her lips.  Hers opened in invitation and he slid his tongue in to taste the ambrosia within.  He loved her so much, this was the only way he knew how to show her.  He deepened the kiss, seeking out every corner and surface, softly sliding her tongue against his.  Angel couldn’t bear it a moment longer, he had to feel her skin beneath his fingers and mouth.  He had to show her, with everything he had, what she meant to him.  Breaking the kiss, he pulled off his jacket, spreading it on the sand.  He reached for her and lowered her tenderly to where it lay.

As if handling a fine, porcelain doll, he gently pulled her dress over her head.  Without hesitating in his self-appointed task he gently removed her bra and panties.  His heart lurched with indescribable joy as he looked at her lying there, her creamy white form glowing in the starlight.  His gaze reverent as he lovingly perused it.  He still couldn’t believe she was really there …and really his.  His heart ached with his need for her.  She stirred, overcome once more by the profundity of love she saw shining in his eyes and he saw himself reflected in hers.  He found himself falling, as he always did, into the misty depths of those eyes that followed him into his dreams.  She answered his actions by reaching for the buttons on his shirt, undoing each one slowly until she unveiled the skin covering the taut muscles beneath.  He reveled in the caress of her soft fingers and the flats of her hands as they smoothed over his chest and shoulders.  He moved back and stood for a moment to take off the shirt and the rest of his clothes, sinking back down over her.

Knowing his intent, Buffy covered Angel’s hand as it slid towards his jacket pocket, where he kept his wallet.  She shook her head gently when he lifted inquiring eyes, “Just tonight, Angel,” she whispered.  “To consummate our vows there should be nothing between us.”

“Buffy,” he hesitated, “what if …”

Raising the same hand to his face, she simply pressed her fingers against his lips.

Angel hadn’t thought he could love her anymore until that moment.  It was her gift of total acceptance that she loved him just as he was, no matter what he thought of himself, no matter what their future held.

Raining tiny kisses over her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, he found her lips once more, softly melding them with his own.  Buffy felt like she was floating again, as if they were on the water, not solid ground.  Her small hands roved over his back, up his neck, sinking into his thick dark hair.  As they gasped for air once more, her lips ran over his arms, his shoulders and chest, anywhere she could taste him as they shifted in the sand.  He raised his head for a moment, overtaken with the feel of her lips and fingers wandering over his skin, catching in his hair.  “I love you so much,” he whispered hoarsely, looking back into her eyes.

Buffy saw the blazing heat smoldering in his dark eyes, almost black with desire. “I love you,” she echoed, and brought her mouth back to his for another soul deep kiss.  He bent over her carefully, kissing a path down her jaw to the delicate skin behind her ear, then down her neck.  Every time he was with her like this felt as if it was the first time.  As if he was in a new land only he was allowed to explore.  He never liked to hurry when he made love to her.  His hands came up to palm her breasts as his thumb and finger traced tiny designs around her nipples.  He was awed by the way they fit so perfectly in his hands, made for him.  Buffy reached around his waist and pulled him closer.  Loving the feel of her enclosing him in her arms, Angel caught one nipple, sucking it lightly, then scrapping his teeth gently across it.  There was so much to feel and taste.  She arched into his mouth as he drew his large hands behind her, holding her to reach the other breast to his lips.  Buffy felt like she couldn’t breathe, his tongue and lips were burning into her being.  He stayed there worshipping her without any sense of time.  Finally, after laving every inch of her breasts, he nipped the pleading peaks before he covered them with butterfly kisses one last time.

Moving down, he rediscovered the hills and valleys of her curves.  He didn’t think he’d ever tire of tracing their lines.  Tiny grains of light glittered on her arms where they had touched the sand.  Trailing long trembling fingers in soft caresses, he could feel her satin skin, raising tiny goosebumps as he brushed gently over her ribs and stomach, then her hips.  His lips followed, giving devout homage to each rib, each bone, each swell and hollow.  He gave her open-mouthed kisses, as she gifted him with small tastes of vanilla and the slight tang of salt.  His hands roamed up, over her breasts, her shoulders, then down her back.  They kept traveling a different path, trying to touch and feel every inch of her, memorizing every texture and turn.  Buffy’s hands were on a similar journey over his back, his hips, his buttocks, wherever she could reach.  She felt his muscles ripple and cord in response to her touch.  They reveled in their bond, the faint pulse that surged and hummed when they were skin to skin – as if their bodies were telling each other where to touch and how.

His lips finally found their way past her navel where he planted tender kisses, further down until he reached her nest of curls.  Sitting back on his knees, he gently parted her legs with his broad hands and lifted her hips upward.  Gently placing a leg over each shoulder he drew her up to his mouth.  Buffy sighed as she felt his warm breath stir her arousal even more.  She reached out to twine her fingers through the softness of his dark hair.  She could see the moonlight glinting behind him, making his outline glow.  He parted her soft, moist folds with his tongue and laved a long slow line from bottom to top and down again.  She shivered beneath him.  Seeking her core, he plunged his tongue in, tasting the nectar now flowing freely from his ministrations.  He suckled the bud that begged for his attention, feeling it swell between his lips.  Angel breathed deeply, his senses reeling in her essence, he lapped in the moisture, drowning in the taste and feel of her.  He knew he could make love to her forever and still never get enough of her.  He continued to drink his fill and wander his tongue and lips from deep inside her to the small bit of flesh that throbbed under his touch.  Buffy was shaking with passion, she pushed her hips closer to the teasing, tantalizing feel of his mouth.  Angel loved the sweet, crooning sounds she made as he searched for every delectable spot he could find to increase her pleasure.  When he felt her orgasm drawing near, he suckled harder on the flash point of her desire until she came in long, quivering waves, his name escaping from her throat, in a high, warbling trill.

He released her legs, then slid up her body in seconds, sheathing himself in her molten passage, feeling her muscles contract all around him as he drove deeply into her.  She was so soft, so warm, pulsing around him.  Sealing his lips over hers, his tongue started moving in and out of her mouth, keeping time with his thrusts.  His fingers twisted into her hair keeping her locked in his love.  He thought for the thousandth time since they had become intimate, how perfect she felt against him and how perfectly she molded around him as she surrounded his throbbing sex.  He couldn’t imagine now how he’d lived a lifetime without her.

Buffy could taste herself as he kissed her, she sucked his tongue in, continuing the motion he had started.  She pushed him back suddenly with eager hands as she craned her head, her mouth seeking his chest.  Sucking a nipple in, biting down lightly, she reached her fingers to grab the other and pinch it softly.  Angel shivered at her touch, feeling ecstasy shoot through him wherever she made contact.  He could feel his every cell tingle.  His motions became more frenzied as she roved one hand over his back and hips.  Still holding onto his nipple, sucking and nipping it, she heard him groan her name.  Buffy loved how he filled her.  She could feel the hardness, the full length and breadth of him as he pistoned in and out.

Tremors shook his arms as he held his weight on his elbows.  Leaning to one side, still catching her close, he reached up one hand, “Buffy,” he puffed in a hard breath, as he pulled the shining tendrils from her face, “Look at me, love.”

It took her long moments to swim up from the pleasure that was washing in and through her.  She finally opened her eyes and fixed them on the deep chocolate ones staring down at her.

“Keep them open, love,” he begged her as he moved deeper within her, touching off more of the heat that was burning through both of them.  “I want to watch you come with me.  Please,” he whispered before his breath was gone.

She nodded slowly, too caught up in the intense feelings that were building by the second.  Once more he circled his arms around her and pulled her to him.  He rocked in and out of her, never letting his eyes leave her face.  She met every movement, raising her hips in perfect synchrony with his.  They met in an endless circle of flesh, moving as one, hearts joined in a racing staccato beat, souls melding and merging.  He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, bringing her hips smashing against his in a sweet violence. The ripples of bliss, turned to waves of white-hot pleasure.  Feeling him pulse and grow within her, her own climax racing towards her, Buffy clung to his eyes, forcing herself to keep hers open.  She arched into him as delirious ecstasy filled her, her muscles clenching and grasping him, her eyes flooding with rapture and love.  “Angel,” she breathed, “I love you.”  She was lost in wave upon wave of almost unbearable release.  Letting it pull her as she was swept into the vortex of its grasp.  He filled her to bursting, in her, around her, a part of her, moving and melting into her.  She used all of her strength and will to keep her eyes focused on the wild brown gaze that bore into her from above.

She showed him what he meant to her as she kept her eyes locked on his.  He could feel every nerve ending in his body alive and attuned to every single thing around him; the satin of her skin, the grit of the sand, the blush of desire his kisses had brushed onto her face, the moonlight making her translucent beneath him, the soft sea air and the mingled musk of their union, her sweet moans of love above the lapping of the waves of the sea, the rings they had sworn each other.  Every sight, sound, smell and touch kaleidoscoped and swirled around and within him as he felt her rush through his every cell.  His veins were shot through with a feeling so intense it overloaded his senses until it gathered in his groin and exploded into her liquescent heat.  Her eyes, deep and endless as the sunlit sea, were the last thing he saw as he fell over the precipice, rapture overtaking him as it took her.  He knew there could be no bliss in heaven to compare.  “Buffy,” he managed to whisper breathlessly, “I love you,” as he spilled deeply into her womb, lowering his arms on either side, folding himself down over her before losing consciousness.

When Angel finally opened his eyes, gray-green ones floated below him.  A small face looked up with love and concern etched in every line.  Smiling softly he lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking the skin, then wordlessly let his lips fall onto hers.  His other hand held her near as his fingers wound through the whisper soft strands of her hair.  He finally withdrew and rolled over bringing her close beside him, where he could see her face.  They lay looking at the moon as it offered them a path to its door.  The night shimmered with the twinkling stars in the sky and sand around them.  The air still blanketed them in its velvet warmth.

Entwined in each other’s arms, he stroked her hair as she traced letters of love across his chest.  She reached for his hand and slid her fingers through his so their rings lay together.  Deep down he knew he didn’t deserve her or the love she gave him so freely and deeply.  He desperately wanted to be the man she thought him to be.  But she had promised him forever and he knew there was nothing without her.  He’d give her everything he had, whatever it was – whomever he was – because he had every intention of holding her to her promise.

[end chapter 14]

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