Title: Scattered Thoughts: Promise You Forever
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 If you shouldn’t be here, be somewhere else.
Episode spoilers: Doppelgangland, Prom, G1 & 2, set between G2 and Buffy season 4/Angel season1
Archive: My site only! If you want to link to it, please contact me to let me know where.
Series/Sequel: Follows ‘Scattered Thoughts: The Road Has Come to an End’, but you *don’t* have to read that before this -- this one can stand alone.
Previous parts: www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html.
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: As always, to Carrie and to Marius especially for coming through at the 11th hour. You two are the best :-) Thanks so much for all the work you do!

...I squeak.

“You...you can’t...you shouldn’t....have to.”

“But I do,” Angel says with an air of finality. Boy, and I thought I had the ‘resolve face’.

“Angel...” I whisper. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I’m fighting this so much. I mean, I know better than almost anyone the foolishness of ignoring his curse.

“Either you chain my other hand or this stops right now.” The way Angel says the words, I know that it’s a threat, not an idle promise.

Swallowing hard, I nod my agreement and reach out to snap the second metal cuff in place. I feel stupid as I balance myself directly on his crotch, but I’m terrified that if I lift off of him for even a moment, he won’t let this thing between us continue. To make matters worse, I find that I can’t seem to look Angel in the eye, which -- of course -- he notices.

“Will,” he says softly, some of his earlier tenderness returning to his voice. “If something...happens, there’s a copy of the spell and all the supplies you’ll need in the top drawer of the night table in my bedroom.”

“O...okay,” I whisper, leaning forward to hide my face against the cool but sweaty surface of his neck.

But Angel will have none of it. Instead he leans down and takes my lips prisoner in a deep, hungry kiss. Once he has ravished my mouth, his tongue makes a scenic journey to my ear.

“Now then,” he starts in a breathy whisper that raises gooseflesh all over my body. “Where were we?”

Getting back in the mood, I lean forward and nibble on his neck.

“Right about here, I think.” Even I’m surprised at my own boldness, but any embarrassment quickly fades as I lock my arms and slide myself as far down onto Angel as I can go.

He rewards me with a hiss of pure pleasure, which I make him repeat...

...over and over again she slams herself down on my cock. Her rhythm is slowly increasing, leading us both to where we’re longing to go. And yet I get the feeling that something is wrong.

Despite my recent drought in the lovemaking department, I still have centuries of experience to call upon. That’s how I know that Willow is...stuck...as in not getting enough stimulation to reach another climax. I, on the other hand, am straining to hold back my own.

I refuse to come without her.

Opening my eyes proves to be an almost fatal mistake. To see Willow, eyes closed, head thrown back in reckless abandon as she moves over me almost sends me over the edge. It doesn’t help matters that I’ve been so hard so long that my erection is starting to get painful.

My gaze drifts downward of its own volition, coming to rest on the sight of her breasts swaying with her movements. These fucking restraints keep me from leaning forward to suckle her rock-hard nipples, which are beckoning me like some biblical forbidden fruit.

Another groan escapes me as I continue to meet her every thrust. C’mon, Will. I’m not gonna be able to hold out much longer. You’ve got to help me...

“Touch yourself, Willow,” I command. My words come out more as a growl than anything else. I’m hard pressed as it is to keep my human-appearance from slipping into my demonic one.

“Wha..?” Willow gasps, her eyes flying open as my words penetrate the sensual haze surrounding us.

“Touch yourself,” I repeat, my eyes boring into hers. There is no mistaking the blush that creeps onto her cheeks for the flush of sexual arousal. I can’t help but get a little annoyed over her sense of propriety. Here we are, her riding me like a jockey on a thoroughbred, and she’s embarrassed by a simple request? I don’t think so.

“Do it.”

I say the words flatly, without raising my voice, without letting the demon put in an appearance. It’s just me...and my determination. I’m barely aware that our movements have slowed slightly because of this distraction. Good, it’s the only thing that going to keep me from exploding. Nevertheless, I continue staring into the burning green of her eyes as Willow makes her decision.

Finally, I feel her adjust slightly, switching her weight over to her other arm. Slowly...painfully slowly, I watch with rapt fascination as Willow’s now-free hand moves up from the carpet. Her eyes break away from mine and stay gone, looking anywhere else but at me. That’s fine, though, because it frees me up to watch as her hand hesitantly comes to rest on her thigh.

It’s almost like watching that slow motion stuff on television. Our movements come to a complete standstill as she acquiesces to my demand. I’m not sure whether I’m frustrated, enchanted or aroused by the way her fingers slowly creep up her leg. All I know is that it turns me on so much that the part of me that is buried within her twitches in anticipation.

I see her pause right as her hand reaches the red thatch of hair. Sensing her eyes on me for the first time since I made my request, I glance upward. My encouraging eyes meet hers, and I do my best to communicate my reassurance -- and insistence -- that she should continue.

Finally, Willow seems to reach a decision. I feel more than see the movement as her right hand grazes over the coarse hair of our lower bodies. My eyes never leave hers as I sense the first, hesitant touch on the place where our bodies are joined together.

Willow’s first touch is hesitant, almost as if she’s afraid of her own body. I’m not overly surprised by it, though. In spite of the turn of events tonight, this is still *Willow* after all.

“Pinch it,” I instruct gently, not wanting to scare her already tenuous acceptance of my demands.

There is a moment’s pause as she comes to terms with what I’m asking her to do, but finally she gives in. I can feel her eyes on me, watching me as I watch her comply with my request. Placing her fingertips around the tiny hood, Willow carefully squeezes the bundle of nerves hidden within.

Almost as soon as she does, her inner muscles clench so tightly they almost squeeze my cock entirely out of her sheath. Willow, however, grinds her hips down on me, making damn sure that my dick isn’t going anywhere but straight back into her moist depths.

God above, she feels so good around me. Her interior muscles are squeezing me like a velvet-gloved hand as they take me to a level that I haven’t visited in well over a hundred years. I’ve missed this more than I knew -- feeling the connection that two people have when they share their bodies with one another.

She’s close now; I can feel it. Her thrusts are becoming sporadic, almost as if maintaining a pace is no longer as important as the pleasure that is already underway. She’s stop pinching herself, preferring steady brushes of a solitary fingertip.

Wrapping my hands around the chain that bind me, I hold on for dear unlife as I pick up the rhythm that she has abandoned. My thrusts are short and fast but nevertheless deep, insuring that Willow will reach her intended destination. What I wouldn’t give to have the use of my hands right now, to roll her under me and pound into her until she cried out for mercy.

“Angel,” she gasps in between her harsh, panting breaths. “I’m...close...I’m...gonna...”

“Yes,” I encourage her, “that’s it. Let it come, Will. Let me make you come.”

“Aaaannngeeeeel!” she screams. The sound of her voice wavers, interrupted by staccato rushes of air my hard stroking forces out of her. She is throbbing around me like nothing I’ve ever felt before, her tight passage milking my cock for all its worth until I just can’t take anymore.

My own muscles strain to the breaking point as I throw my head back against the wall. To my horror, I can’t keep my face from changing into my true appearance. My lapse of control frightens the hell out of me, but even that is not enough to stop the chain reaction happening below my waistline. It takes all of my considerable control to hold myself back from sinking my fangs into her neck, because right at that moment, I am...

...coming. He’s coming...with me...in me.

I can actually feel each twitching pulse as he pours himself into me. With each one, a deep, earthy, passion-filled grunt escapes his throat. There are seven of them in total, each one marking the transfer of his essence into me.

In me.

Even as I shudder spasmodically in the aftermath of my own powerful explosion, I notice a recurring theme in my thought patterns.

In me. Angel came *in* me. It’s a first for me -- unprotected sex. That is, unless I count the chains binding Angel to the wall. The handful of times I’ve done this with Oz, we’ve always used condoms -- along with the birth control pills I’ve been taking faithfully. Hey, I believe in being thorough. And we can’t be too careful. Eighteen is way too young to switch from shopping at Contempo to buying at Motherwear.

But back at my original thought, I’ve never felt somebody *actually* do...that...in me before. And boy did he ever! I can already feel his semen overflowing out of me. Somehow, though, knowing that I have it inside of me makes me feel closer to Angel in a weird way.

Needing to express my newly-discovered feelings, I adjust my position so that I can lean forward. As I do, Angel shifts from his ‘game face’ to the ‘normal’, gorgeous exterior that I prefer. Our bodies kind of slide against each other, the sheen of perspiration covering me making us both slick and slippery. Angel’s muscles are randomly twitching, including the one that is still buried deep within me. I giggle each time I feel it jump inside, but Angel simply smiles and shrugs. I manage to hang on, though, far enough forward to press my lips against his and kiss him with all the hunger that still remains within me.

At first Angel matches me kiss for kiss, but as the minutes pass, our ardor fades into comfort. Eventually, even the soft, easy kisses fade into something else entirely: uncertainty.

I guess it’s time to figure out what we’re...




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