Part 3

Angelus was very pleased with his new home. The real estate agent had done a great job given very little time. The grounds were extensive, with over 80 acres beautifully landscaped and tended; the house was old, elegant and came furnished; and the décor was quite impressive. So far, his plan was coming off without a hitch. He expected no less.

Relaxing in a comfortable chair, he surveyed the room. It was large and airy with high ceilings and tall diamond paned windows. This was the bedroom he had carefully chosen for Willow. The furniture was massive mahogany with a fairly light finish: bed, nightstands, dresser, armoire and an entire area arranged to suit her needs…a fully equipped entertainment center, desk, bookcases, divan, reading chairs, ornate tables and lamps. Yes, she would be very comfortable here.

The colors were tasteful and feminine…reds, yellows, and greens in solids, stripes and florals for the upholstery, bed coverings, decorative pillows and rugs. Angelus was satisfied that the colorful, eclectic mix suited its occupant well…understated and pleasing to the eye.


Raising a brow at the fish, Angelus had to admit that they did add to the ambiance of the room. The tank sat on a cabinet specially made for it and the wood and design coordinated with the rest of the furniture. Evidently the man assigned to the task had had a hell of a time finding it. The unit was in the center of the room, so it could be viewed from any vantage point. The fish swam around contentedly in the bountifully appointed tank and the sounds it made added to its overall pleasant and calming effect. Angelus made a mental note to acquire more fish, because there were too few residents for a tank that size.

Resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, he propped his chin on his fist to admire the sleeping beauty on the bed. The only illumination came from the flickering fire in the fireplace, complementing Willow’s face and hair magnificently. In fact, nighttime in general flattered her dramatic coloring. Moonlight enhanced her fair, clear skin, and her face had been luminescent in the moon’s glow as he carried her into the house earlier tonight. Firelight gave her complexion a golden radiance and flickered and danced in her glorious red hair. She looked lovely.

As Willow remained blissfully unaware of her change of circumstances, Angelus fondly imagined her making use of her new surroundings. He could see her tapping away at the elaborate computer he’d purchased for her, deeply absorbed in her work or watching the large television discreetly hidden in its cabinet. He imagined her curled up on one of the cozy chairs, under the soft glow of a tiffany lamp, enjoying a good book. No doubt, she would love the lavish attached bath once she adjusted to being here. Angelus fully expected her to initially be unhappy about her abduction and confinement. Once she realized that resistance was futile, she’d be sensible enough to appreciate the comforts he’d arranged for her. In the meantime, he’d be patient. It was all part of his master plan. Holding all of the cards made him feel benevolent. Willow’s first step would be coming to see him and this place as her reality. Cut off from all outside ties, she’d become dependent on him for everything.

He’d seen to every contingency…or would soon. Angelus preened at his ability to anticipate and see to every detail.

Her environment was designed to accommodate both of them. During the day her room would be light and cheery, promoting a positive mental attitude, yet the north facing windows never received direct sunlight. The windows had unbreakable glass and were high enough off the ground to prevent escape in any eventuality. It was, in essence, an esthetically pleasing prison. Many of Willow’s possessions were here, brought along for practical purposes as well as aids to adjustment.

The only variable he was unable to predict was what Willow’s reaction would be when she woke up. Would she be terrified and cowering? Would she be furious and spitting like a kitten? Would she be submissive and resigned? He couldn’t wait to find out! No matter what direction her emotions took, he would enjoy them, he thought, smirking. Willow’s temperament made any number of responses possible. Angelus looked forward to whatever challenges her myriad of potential moods posed. Learning to manage her in any given situation would be exciting. The most accomplished manipulators could turn every eventuality to their advantage and still play it so the recipient was pleased with the outcome. Angelus had no doubts about his own ability to do so.

The self-assured vampire reminded himself that his own tempestuous nature was his worst enemy at times. Keeping his temper in check would be imperative. He growled at the quiet room, admitting any weakness displeased him. Willow would surely evoke his anger at times and expressing it would be a setback. So, he told himself firmly, he would exert self-control and refrain from striking her or screaming at her…unless it was called for…to the best of his ability. Angelus snarled impatiently and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, for while it was essential to keep his intended role in mind, it annoyed him to have to concern himself over obstacles that may or may not arise.

The doctor had said that it was impossible to predict how long Willow would sleep, as all individuals reacted differently to the drug. Angelus was not about to pass the time with any more critical self-analysis; that was the arena of losers like Angel, for crying out loud. He had every intention of being present when Willow awoke, so he would pass the time by entertaining himself at her bedside with something he enjoyed. Leaning over the side of the chair, he retrieved the sketchpad and pencil he’d brought. Studying his subject, he thought he could never tire of capturing her image on paper. As he began to draw, his hand flew over the page.

Angelus lost track of time as he moved around the room creating sketch after sketch of Willow in poses real and imagined. Sitting on the foot of the bed, he noted that her breathing and heartbeat still indicated deep sleep. Assured she was fine, he lay across the bed from her, making himself comfortable. Flipping pages, reviewing his work, the vampire was satisfied with the results. A wicked grin accompanied his perusal of a particularly erotic rendering of Willow on this very bed. Seeing her undress earlier had provided inspiration and watching her body’s enthusiastic response to her own touch had fired his artistic interpretation of what her responses would be to *him*. He closed his eyes and the drawing came to life in his mind…Willow naked; her creamy skin exposed to his lustful gaze, her eyes dark with desire, beckoning him to touch her and bring her the satisfaction that only *he* could. Her firm, flawless breasts reacting to his mere presence, with her pink nipples tightening, begging to be sucked. Turning her head and arching her graceful neck because she craved the feeling of his fangs sinking in as her blood flowed into his mouth. Legs spread in invitation, her body undulating with need. He saw himself leaning over her as she slid her feet up the sheet, in a silent plea, raising a long, slender leg to caress him with her silky inner thigh in blatant invitation for him to pound her into the mattress.

Angelus’ eyes snapped open. “Shit!” He said to himself, his red-hot fantasy had made him rock hard and he was panting like a sex crazed maniac. Thoughts of fucking her brains out *had* to wait. Raping her as she lay there unconscious *or* her waking to him diddling himself by her side would *not* help him achieve his objective. He squeezed his eyes shut and ordered himself to get a grip. Jesus! What had gotten into him? This vicious cycle was nothing but trouble. It seemed like all he’d done tonight was watch Willow, work himself into a hot and bothered state, jack off, and then repeat the process all over again. That idiot Xander could probably conduct himself with more self-control than he, Angelus, Master Vampire and Scourge of Europe, had exhibited this night. Completely. Fucking. Ridiculous. And how the bloody hell had he forgotten to change out of his goddamned leather pants? Rearranging himself to prevent chafing, he muttered insults and self-recriminations as he got up to do some calming pacing. Pausing intermittently to glare at Willow, in hopes it would prod her to wakefulness, he stalked back and forth across the room. Once, she had rolled to her side, tucking her hands charmingly beneath her cheek and mumbled something about Buffy’s homework. *That* was helpful, nothing could deflate his dick faster than mention of the Slayer, who was a totally disappointing lay. With a sly grin he remembered that banging Buffy was actually what had finally rid him of the miserable soul. Just goes to show, he thought cheerfully, even bad sex can be good.

Yesiree, he chuckled with amused disdain, time in the sack with Buffy was proof positive that her seductive outfits were nothing but false advertising. Of course, experience had taught him long ago not to judge a book by its cover: doing so led to all kinds of missed opportunities. *Although*, he was very glad the male population of Sunnydale had been misled by Willow’s manner and wardrobe choices. Her frumpy overalls and baggy sweaters had served him well…his darling had remained unsullied and pure.

The most delicious scent filled the air and stopped Angelus in his tracks. “My, my, and what do we have here,” he said quietly as he went to stand over Willow. The smell of her arousal told him she was dreaming about something sexual, but what…or rather who…was the million dollar question. At some point she had rolled onto her back, and as the captivated vampire continued to watch her, she made the tiniest mewling sound. Very carefully, so as not to disturb her, Angelus sat down next to her, wincing at the discomfort of the erection in his confining pants. Tomorrow he would send someone to fetch Angel’s clothes. It was no accident that the soul’s slacks had a roomy fit in the crotch. For now, practical considerations would have to take precedence over fashion. Willow remained still for several moments, but she continued to emit the heady aroma, so he just waited. His patience was rewarded when she fisted her hands and pushed her bottom into the mattress, moaning something unintelligible. Angelus’ cock throbbed in response and he was completely rapt. When Willow’s back arched and her mouth formed a silent “oh,” his hand ached to slide beneath the covers and bring her to orgasm. He forced himself to remain still. She could wake at any time and he sincerely doubted she would greet his fingers buried in her wetness with welcome, no matter how much pleasure they brought her. It wouldn’t do at all for her to perceive him as a pervert who would assault her as she slept. The poor girl writhed in need and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. She probably wasn’t even aware, in her innocence, that a little attention to her swollen clitoris would provide the relief she craved. Angelus placated himself with the knowledge that when the time came, *he* would be the one to satisfy the yearnings of her young body. In the meantime, he sorely wished he could read her mind: *who* starred in Willow’s lust filled dream?! Did she have those dreams often? As he continued to watch her in the throes of an erotic dream, he thought hard about her body’s past indicators. He knew for a fact she had been turned on when his hard-on had been pressed against her at the school, in spite of her fear. Angel had smelled her desire a number of times, but in a group environment, so he never knew who had caused it…and he was always so busy trying to hide his own response, that he couldn’t analyze it. Angelus stared hard at her, as if he could will her to utter a name.

“Mmmm,” Willow murmured dreamily and he waited anxiously, but she gave no clue as to the identity of her dream lover. Not knowing aggravated him to no end, but at the same time, he was perfectly aware it quite possibly wasn’t him *or* Angel…which he didn’t like one bit.

The curiosity and sexual frustration were maddening. Angelus rose with a sigh and wandered to the windows to gaze outside. Clasping his hands behind his back, he considered a cold shower and ‘beat the meat’ session, but Willow could waken in his absence, so he ruled that out. The sun would rise soon; hopefully it would set into motion her body’s natural waking mechanism.

A small, surprised, “Oh!” came from the bed. Angelus turned around to see a groggy, confused Willow sitting up, looking appealingly tousled. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her mouth was opened slightly as she looked at the crackling fire. Angelus remained silent as her gaze turned to the fish tank. He couldn’t help smiling when her head cocked to the side. She probably thought she was still asleep. He’d give her a moment to take in her surroundings and shake off drowsiness. She still didn’t look in his direction.

Willow rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, said, “Huh,” then laid back down and closed her eyes. Angelus thought resignedly that she was going back to sleep. Soon, her hand reached out and traced the satin sheet she was laying on. Slowly she sat back up and stared at the hand touching the unfamiliar feeling sheet. He thought she looked very small and sweet, alone in the king-sized bed. As if she sensed his presence, her eyes slowly traveled from her hand to him, standing several feet away from her. He remained in place, awaiting her reaction. Willow’s eyes narrowed and her face turned to the side as she looked at him in wonder.

Since she wasn’t showing the slightest inkling of distress, Angelus could only surmise that she didn’t believe the evidence of his presence that her eyes were presenting her with. Blinking slowly several times, her gaze remained puzzled, but undisturbed. He stayed perfectly still and smiled, making every effort to appear non-threatening. Willow rubbed her face briskly, said, “Weird,” then pinched herself. The pinch must’ve been a doozy, because she yelped and her eyes became huge as she gaped at him.

end part 3