Part 11

Leisurely flipping through a rack of dresses at an upscale department store, Angelus came across one with promise. Holding it up for inspection, he had trouble making sense of it. He was specifically looking for something to give Willow’s wardrobe more variety.

A sultry voice behind him said, “It’s a wrap dress.” Coming to stand in his line of sight, a young saleswoman smiled up at him. “Hangers don’t do them justice. Is there something I can help you with?” Her eyes said shopping assistance was the least of the things she’d be willing to do for him.

Angelus looked the girl over and liked what he saw. Her face was lovely; she had beautiful brown eyes surrounded by lush, dark eyelashes and her full, pouty lips were doing their best to look tempting. She had short brown hair, stylishly cut to make the most of her pretty features. Most significant, though, was her body: it was quite similar to Willow’s. At times such as these, a human mannequin could be advantageous--the other things she offered just added spice to the shopping experience. Smiling and looking at her flirtatiously, he said, “Yes, I believe there is.”

Thrilled at his receptiveness, she responded in kind, eager to please, “Just name it.”

“Well,” he glanced at her nametag, eyes lingering on her breast, “Bettina, I have a…friend just about your size. She tends to wear clothes that don’t make the most of her…” his eyes drifted meaningfully along the sales girl’s body, “Very. Sexy. Figure.”

A flustered Bettina placed her hand on his, sliding her fingers across until she came to the hanger and left it there. In a husky voice, she said, “I could try it on for you.”

With a half smile, Angelus looked deeply into her eyes, making silent promises. Quietly, he replied, “That would be very generous of you Bettina. Thank you.”

Her mouth was dry, so speaking was hard and she had trouble tearing her eyes away from his. “I’ll be right back,” she finally managed to say, reluctantly pulling her hand away from his, taking the dress with it.

Angelus watched her walk toward the dressing room, admiring her charming assets. Glancing around, he confirmed what his ears and nose had already told him:  there were no other customers or sales people around to spoil his fun. He grinned. Killing two birds with one stone was successful time management. He’d get to see what the dress could do for his redhead *and* get his rocks off in the process. Splendid! If Bettina was any good, she could live and they could do it again sometime. He frequently saw clothes he’d like modeled in order to determine if they would properly suit Willow.

Bettina emerged from the dressing room looking good enough to eat. Without speaking, she approached him, doing her best to show him the dress and look alluring at the same time. Yes, indeed, Angelus thought, that was a Willow dress. It had various retro ‘70’s green and black geometric shapes and was a perfect complement for her body type. It had a v-neck that didn’t show cleavage, but definitely drew the eye to the breasts, which were nicely framed by the criss-cross style of the wrap. The pulse pounding rapidly at the base of Bettina’s neck added to the whole pleasing effect.

Angelus raised a brow seductively and looked down at her, placing his fingers where the dress tied at her waist, “I like the dress very much. Maybe we could find a more private spot and you can show me how it works.”

Mesmerized and aroused, Bettina croaked, “Yes, stockroom,” she took his hand shakily and led him there.

Once in the box filled room, Angelus gently pushed her shoulders, pressing her back against a wall. His eyes followed his splayed fingers as they slowly traced a path down her collarbone, chest and breasts. One hand lingered at a breast as the other continued to the bow fastening the dress. Delicately he pulled the cloth tie loose. His gaze took in the convenient way the dress parted, once untied, and admired the appealing flesh and undergarments exposed. The girl hadn’t spoken and her breathing was labored.

Angelus lowered his mouth to hers and said, “I’ll take it,” then gave her the kiss she’d been fantasizing about since she’d first seen him on the sales floor. Distracting her with the kiss, he relieved her of her satin panties and opened his pants. Her fevered moans encouraged him as he gathered her firm bottom in his hands and lifted her. She was so excited her inner muscles quivered when he entered her. Kissing her harder, he thought: other vampires could be great lays, but hot, human pussy surrounding his cold, hard cock was…“Nnnnmmmm,” he growled. She was about to come, so he picked up the pace and helped her out. Supporting her ass with one hand, he reached down and massaged her clit with the other until she came…after all, she deserved it. With her taken care of, he shut his eyes, pretended he was fucking Willow and let loose his own satisfying orgasm.

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Assuring Bettina he was most satisfied with her excellent service and would be back, Angelus paid for the dress. Her boots looked so fetching with the dress that he asked her where she had gotten them. Leaving a sighing, sated Bettina in his wake, he headed for the escalator.

The content vampire wondered why more men didn’t enjoy shopping. What wasn’t to like? He found it very satisfying. Humming softly, he headed for the ladies shoe department to purchase boots for Willow before going to get a bite to eat. He’d certainly worked up a hearty appetite.

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Taking the stairs two at a time, Angelus was anxious to present Willow with the new outfit. Since the kiss they’d shared, Willow had watched the door with ill-concealed anticipation every time it opened unexpectedly. Her disappointment was apparent when it turned out to be James delivering fresh towels or sheets--the poor man was going to develop a complex. He’d been observing her particularly closely since his meeting with Barrett earlier in the day; the timing was right for another encounter. He admitted to himself that the clothes were just an excuse. He *wanted* to visit her. Now his enthusiasm was increased by the high he’d gotten from feeding and screwing the ‘Willow stand-in’ salesgirl. The latter should’ve taken the edge off; instead it just made him want to be with the real thing all the more.

As he knocked and opened the door, he made a mental note to view her reaction to its opening later. Willow was reclining on the sofa with her feet stretched out on it. She looked so nice in the scooped neck, navy blue sweater and long, straight skirt with swirling designs in several shades of blue. Her mouth was opened slightly as she stared at him in surprise. Apparently she had been watching television; it was on and her hand was in mid-air aiming the remote control in that direction.

He smiled in a friendly fashion and said, “Good evening, Willow. You look bonny, as usual.” She still looked stunned to see him. He took a few steps in her direction. “I see you’re watching television. Am I interrupting?”

She shook her head and murmured, “No.” Turning off the television, she laid the remote on the coffee table and said, “Just flipping.”

Adjusting her position, she moved her feet to the floor and straightened her skirt. The skirt was mid-calf length and the eighteenth century man in Angelus did so love a glimpse of pretty ankles. Willow’s were spectacular, he thought, and her bare feet added to the allure. Following his captivated gaze, the redhead slightly lifted them one at a time, examining them for the reason of his interest, unknowingly increasing their attraction for him.

She cleared her throat and he snapped out of his momentary trance. “You have very nice ankles, sweetheart.”

Willow flushed and said, “Thank you,” awkwardly, discomfited by the blatant perusal.

Angelus flashed her a grin and dropped his shopping bags on the coffee table as he went to join her on the sofa. Her pulse had quickened the instant he’d entered her room and now the rapid drumming of it at her throat was threatening to distract him.

He wanted to have a conversation with her and refused to let himself be deterred by her delightful ankles and the blood rushing temptingly through her. Instead, he concentrated on assessing her mood. Mmm. Tantalizing. She smelled nervous and excited. Relaxing comfortably on the sofa, he laid his arm across the back and focused. Everything about Willow drew him like a moth to flame. Inexplicable, he thought. She watched him expectantly. Looking into her eyes, he asked, “How are you, Willow?”

Automatically she replied with a polite, “Fine.”

He was about to respond when she grunted indignantly and stomped her foot. Her heart pounded all the harder and she took a deep breath. Scowling fiercely, she said, “No! No, I’m not fine. I don’t know why I even said it. You…you confuse me with all the…” She stopped abruptly, having alarmed herself with the outburst.

Willow was still reticent, but there was a distinct improvement in her manner. She was significantly more assertive and confident in her…one could *almost* call it confrontational approach towards him. He looked at her with avid interest and unconsciously his fingers drifted down from the sofa back to briefly brush her shoulder encouragingly. Restraining the hungry look that tried to reach his eyes, he quietly said, “Please, go on.”

Visibly firming her resolve, she did. “You act all courteous and, and genial. What am I supposed to make of that? Hmm?” She gestured vaguely at the room at large without pausing. “Here I am, in this nice room with great room service, books, a computer, cable TV and…stuff. Lots of fancy clothes that aren’t mine, with fashion plate shoes and accessories. No communication with the outside world. Then you bop in here periodically to…to, I don’t know what. Tell me ambiguous things for one thing…about how you saved me and I don’t understand myself. I don’t get why I’m here. It’s like some alternate universe where nothing makes sense.” She pointed at him, “Angelus: Scourge of Europe, acting like it all makes *perfect* sense…and being all amiable and concerned about my welfare. Newsflash! I’m just plain Willow: studious Sunnydale high school student, faithful friend and sidekick, computer nerd and…like that.” She was too worked up to note the angry expression that flashed across his features at her description of herself. “Scourges *aren’t* fairy godmothers for heaven’s sake! Maybe soul lossage made you kinda…crazy or something. I just don’t get it. Demons *don’t* typically adopt wallflowers and, and turn them into, um, princesses in towers or whatever. It’s not the done thing. And then on top of all the other weirdness…you *kissed* me,” she finished with a thorough blush and clamped her mouth shut.

Much to Willow’s chagrin, Angelus laughed. “I’m not laughing at you, sweet Willow. I just thoroughly enjoy it when you express yourself so charmingly in verbal bursts like that. She squirmed, uncertain how to take those remarks, but looked just a tad bit pleased, if he wasn’t mistaken. “Now, were you just venting or would you like me to address the issues that you raised?”

She peered at him enigmatically--a rare feat for her. “Um. Addressing is good.”

Angelus smiled sincerely; at the moment he had a rare opportunity--his face could accurately reflect his mental attitude. Willow was showing signs of marked growth and development. She was a vision; flatteringly dressed in a tasteful outfit, erect posture, giving him a determined look. True, uncertainty could be detected, but the woman before him presently was just a hop, skip and jump away from…haughtiness. It seemed too good to be true. Break out the champagne, he thought, this is a red letter day indeed. His extended silence received a curious look and arched eyebrow from Willow as she waited for him to speak.

“I’m sorry darling; it took me a moment to process changes I see in you. You are an extraordinary individual, *not* the mediocre one you alluded to in your self-description. You just gave a demon a piece of your mind…*that* requires backbone.” He chuckled, “While you perceive my behavior as ‘un-scourge-like’…the evidence of its benefits is before me now.”

Willow was caught off guard and he could see her quick mind scrambling to absorb his words. Taking the opportunity her distraction afforded, he moved closer to her and took her shoulders in his hands. Capturing her eyes and noting the increased tempo of her heart, he continued, “As to the kiss…there’s no denying we *both* enjoyed it.”

Before Willow could complete the sputter she started, he took her in his arms and kissed her. She struggled briefly, but he felt, rather than saw, her whole body flush. Tentatively, she placed her hands on his shoulders and returned the kiss. Her surrender, despite her reservations, sent a jolt of electricity through Angelus. Deepening the kiss, he buried a hand in her hair and placed the other at the small of her back, kneading it gently. When Willow wrapped her arms around him, he was suffused with euphoria and his tongue swept into her mouth. Her tongue shyly brushed his instead of retreating and the blood in his erection pounded like a bass drum in response. She was moaning and holding him to her tightly, completely immersed in the experience. Time stood still as the fervent kiss went on and on…inhibitions were completely forgotten. Passion was ignited and taking off like a wildfire. As his hand slid to her ass and squeezed, her moans increased in volume as her tongue became bolder. Angelus was emitting a humming purr and some small, rational part of his brain was trying to send him a warning. The intensity of this was sorely testing his control. That foggy part of his mind reminded him that master vampires exhibited more self-discipline. He knew he was fucking up if he let this go on. Teenagers were warned about the dangers of making out and heavy petting for a reason. If he pushed this inexperienced girl too far too fast there would be repercussions he’d come too far to risk.

God! The air was permeated with the scent of her arousal…she was so immersed in lust right now, he could *easily* take this so much further. Her hands moved feverishly over his back, neck and hair and her hips were moving with the rhythm of the kiss. All he could think about was baring her breasts and sucking her nipples until she screamed with pleasure, sliding his hand up her skirt and burying his fingers in her, bringing her an orgasm that would rock her world as he tasted her succulent blood. Jesus, he’d never wanted a woman so badly.

With monumental self-restraint, he growled and pulled away slightly. Willow grabbed his head and tried to pull him back…he was hanging on by a thread. Right now she’d let him do whatever he wanted. Jesus fucking Christ, he wanted to fuck her so badly he could taste it. Pulling away from her further with a pained groan, he murmured thickly, “Baby, we have to stop.” Gazing deeply into her glazed eyes, he had to force the words out, “If I fu…I mean, if we…” Angelus took her shoulders and sat her back from him then scrubbed his face and hair briskly with his hands. Her lips were swollen, her hair mussed, her clothing askew, her breath was coming in pants, her eyes were full of desire, her blood was speeding through her veins…her siren’s song was calling to him.

He grappled with his bearings. “Willow love, if we went further…it would…” He took her hand in both of his and chose his words carefully. “You are so innocent. If we made love right now…and that’s where we were headed, make no mistake about it…you would doubtlessly feel regret and self-recriminations later. I want you so badly, but I need it to be something you consciously choose to do...and so do you. Anything less and…” He brought her hand to his lips. “Sharing your body is a gift, one you need to give with a clear head, *not* a lust addled one.”

Her forehead wrinkled and she opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted. “I mean, of course, it happens in a ‘lust addled’ state…but it’s different when a conscious decision was made beforehand. Your inexperience makes you unable to make an informed decision yet. When you and I make love, it will be because you’re *sure* it’s what you want…not because your hormones got ahead of your brain. It would ruin what should be a beautiful experience if you were sorry after.” He couldn’t fucking believe the words coming out of his mouth, yet he knew they would yield huge dividends in the future.

She hadn’t moved a muscle and he couldn’t get a read on her reaction to his words. Placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, he asked, “Do you understand?”

A jumble of emotions crossed her face; disappointment, hurt, frustration, confusion, irritation and resignation…they came in such rapid succession he couldn’t catch them all, but he got the idea. She concluded the facial slide show with an adorable pout and hissed, “Yes, I understand.” She was bitter he wouldn’t fuck her; the stroke to his ego was so gratifying, it helped ease his own case of sexual frustration. Growling internally, he wished the air’s sex laden aroma would dissipate, which was moot since Willow was so very wet for him.

He smiled fondly, “Believe it or not, you’ll thank me later.” He traced the contours of her face with his fingertips, “Let’s both take a deep calming breath.”

Willow rolled her eyes, snorted and snapped sarcastically, “You don’t need to breathe, remember?”

Angelus chuckled, “True, but oddly enough it still works. Some things the body never forgets, I don’t claim to understand it.”

That fascinating little fact was interesting to her and Angelus was glad because it distracted her from her unsated urges.

Willow’s head tilted, “So what else is your body still in the human habit of doing?”

“Well, my mouth still waters at the smell of baking bread, for one thing.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

Angelus smiled at her, “As fun as it is discussing my quirks, darling Willow, let’s talk about presents instead. I brought you two.” He motioned to the bags, “Take a look.”

Willow looked at him curiously as she reached for the smaller bag and he gloated at how far she’d come tonight. In a short time, she’d become less hampered by fear and was demonstrating abundant pluckiness in his presence, he’d become the object of her unbridled lust, and now she was totally relaxed in his company. An embarrassment of riches, he thought, immensely pleased with himself. Damn, I’m good. His vainglorious self-congratulation was short lived.

As Willow emptied the bag holding the dress into her lap, the receipt fluttered to the floor. Bending to pick it up, something caught her attention and she straightened abruptly as she read it. Fixing an icy glare on him that could’ve frozen hell itself, she gritted her teeth, grabbed both bags and the dress, then shoved them at him.

He was flabbergasted, “What…what just happened?”

“Get out,” she bellowed, “And I believe this is for you,” she thrust the receipt into his hand.

Mystified, his eyes flew to the slip of paper that had initiated this bizarre turn of events. Angelus began to seethe with fury as he read the neatly written words that had made Willow so angry. That worthless cunt whore of a salesclerk would pay for this. The amount of torture she endured at his hands before she begged for death would be in direct proportion to the effort involved in getting back into Willow’s good graces. He re-read the receipt in disbelief; it had caused the tides to turn on him in the blink of an eye. Just a minute ago he had everything he’d wanted in the palm of his hand…now this:

Angelus,

You were fantastic. Call me.
555-1148...Anytime, any place.

Yours again for the asking, Bettina

end part 11