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By The Wicked Sluts

See Part 1 for Disclaimer

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Part 3


***** They sat silently on the couch, clinging to each other, not saying a word. Willow was in shock. He bit her neck… the act he had deemed far too intimate for what they were sharing, yet he had done it.

Angel’s mind was racing, thinking over many of the same thoughts as Willow. As soon as she walked in the door of the mansion, he knew that she had been with Oz, and that she had orgasmed, and it drove him nearly insane with jealousy. He had wanted to punish Willow… not for being insolent with him, or even because she had wanted to be punished. He wanted to hurt her for wanting someone other than him.

And that was crossing a very dangerous line.

Willow’s breaths were finally slowing down, her heartbeat idling to a manageable pace.

“Angel?” she questioned, receiving only silence in return.

“Angel, please talk to me.”

He had nothing to say—or, rather, a million things to say, but not one of them that he could vocalize to Willow at this moment.

So he fell back on his defenses.

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped at her.

“Don’t do this, Angel. You bit my neck.”

Wincing at the accusatory tone in her voice, he turned her head, checking her neck to see how much damage he had inflicted.

“You didn’t hurt me, Angel. That’s not what this is about,” she said, brushing him away.

Angel sighed, “Why don’t we start at the beginning then? What happened tonight with Oz?”

It was Willow’s turn to fall silent.

“Willow, we have to talk about this. What just happened shouldn’t have, and we have to figure out why it did.”

With a deep breath, she quickly recounted the night’s events, emphasizing that she simply knew that she needed to be with him after her encounter with Oz, but not knowing why.

She looked at him questioningly, hoping he had the answers that she needed.

“I don’t, Willow,” he said, instinctively knowing what she was thinking. “I don’t know… Damn it.”

Disentangling himself from her, he stood from the couch and moved to look out the French doors onto the patio, frustration evident in his sagging shoulders.

“I think it’s safe to assume that we care more about each other than we should. I think I was trying to mark you as mine. A stupid, animalistic thing of me to do, but for some reason in the throes of passion, I wanted—needed to make sure that other men would know you belong to me. As far as what’s happening between you and Oz—he doesn’t satisfy you. You have needs and wants and desires that you haven’t told him about.”

“And after his reaction tonight, I never can,” she said quietly, tears leaking from her eyes.

“Maybe if you tell him…”

“Angel… I can’t.” She was sobbing, yet Angel didn’t make a move to comfort her.

“Why not?”

“Because… when I think of Oz doing to me the things that you do, it turns my stomach. I don’t ever want him to touch me the way you do… to do the things you do. Only you, Angel… that can only be you.”

“Only me, Willow? Are you certain?”


Angel turned from the doors and leaned his back against them, quiet reflection settling over his features for a few moments while Willow struggled to get her tears under control.

Finally, he spoke, “It’s time to stop the tears, Willow. I want you to go in the bedroom and get undressed.”

Willow acquiesced, rubbing the tears away with her palms. Once again, she intuitively knew that he was testing her… testing her strength and resolve. She had no doubt that they were about to engage in something different from their previous games and, while she was frightened, she could still hear his words from their first night together echoing in her head. <I couldn’t hurt you, Willow.>

She obediently moved into his bedroom, stripping her clothes and lying them on the back of a chair.

Angel followed her, watching her every movement.

After she removed her clothes, she turned to stare at Angel.

“What?” he asked.

“You didn’t tell me what to do after I took my clothes off.”

He briefly smirked, amazed and elated that she followed his orders so closely.

“Sit down in the chair, Willow.”

She did as she was told, watching his hands as he unfastened his pants, pulling his member free. He moved in front of her.

“Suck,” he commanded with a single word.

Her eyes fell shut, grateful. This was something she could do. She slid her lips over the head of his penis, sighing softly as she perched on the edge of the chair, her hands clenching the arms. His shaft quickly hardened with her assistance, and he pulled away, not wanting to come in her mouth.

“Do you know what I want to do to you, Willow?”

She shook her head no.

“Do you want to know?” he asked darkly.

Her teacher was back, and Angel was gone. It was time for a lesson. She shook her head yes.

“Lie down on the bed,” he instructed.

When Willow started to spread out on her back, he stopped her, “On your stomach.”

Cautiously, she turned over.

Angel sat on the bed beside her, and reached between her legs. Despite her fear, she was sopping wet. Angel plunged two of his fingers into her vagina, scooping some of her wetness out, and let his fingers drift backwards, spreading her cheeks. He casually slid his fingers back and forth across her tight hole.

Bending over, he whispered in her ear, “I want you here, Willow,” he pushed the tip of one finger inside her.

She gasped aloud, nearly jumping out of her skin. Angel removed his hand and pressed it against the small of her back, holding her gently down on the bed.

“Can you do this for me, Willow?”


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