Demon On My Mind
CONTENT:  m/f (Buffy/Angelus) semi-nonconsensual intercourse
RATING: NC-17 for smut and stuff.  <EG>
DISCLAIMER:  Not mine.  PoJ (property of Joss).
SYNOPSIS:  The night after "the night after", Buffy runs into her nemisis/lover in an alleyway.  You can figure out what happens next. NOTE:  This is the sequel to "Demon In My Bed", which can be found at The Naughty Slayer,
DEDICATION:  To Alex, because if she hadn't nagged me incessantly for the last few months, this story would have never happened.  Can I have peace now, Alex?  :-)

 Demon On My Mind
Irritated by the wailing band currently tormenting the patrons of the Bronze, Buffy shifted anxiously.  She had to get out of there, the sheer number of people in the Bronze were making her antsy.  Leaning over, she shouted in Willow's ear.  "I'm gonna get out of here...maybe patrol some
and head home."

Willow looked at her friend from the corner of her eye.  "Are you all right?  You haven't seemed okay all day.  Did something happen while you were patrolling last night?"

Buffy winced, all color draining from her face.  "N-no, nothing.  Just want to take a swing by tonight, just in case."

"What are you patrolling for, specifically?  The uh...thing that uh...well...I'll shut up now."

"Willow, you're stuttering.  No more coffee for you."  She abruptly switched topics.  "I'm going to hunt for Angelus before he can kill someone else.  And I want you to go right home from here, walking with Xander and as many others as possible.  Promise me.  Ang -- he'll try to
get you too if he can."

With that, Buffy swept her jacket from the back of the chair and vanished into the night.

"You know," Xander leaned toward Willow, "She reminds me of Angel when she does that."

"You mean the thing where he's gone?"

"That thing."

"Oh.  Yeah."


Outside the Bronze, away from the noise and the smoke, Buffy's head began to clear.

The dull throbbing in her head that permeated her waking hours was slowly releasing its viselike grip on her brain.  She actually felt as though she could handle a crisis.  She threw her shoulders back.  She was the Slayer. There.  That felt much better.  More in control.

She walked around the corner, keeping her eye out for any suspicious movements.  How many times have I done this, she wondered to herself. Strolling around Sunnydale for hours on end, keeping the streets safe for average citizens.  She thought of Teresa.  Apparently not safe enough.

Not safe from *him*.

But then again, she couldn't even keep herself safe from him.  Last night was proof enough of that.  He had crawled into her room and had her.  In her own house.  In her own BED.

Suddenly, she heard a cat screeching,  breaking the silence of the night. Her head swung from side to side as she realized she was farther from the Bronze than she had intended.

//Serves me right for daydreaming while on patrol.//

She looked up, noting the unforgiving brick walls of the buildings surrounding her.  This was a dead end  alley, with no outlet at one end, and a gate at the other, where she had entered.  Buffy turned on her heel, beginning to walk back the way she had come when the world tilted around her and she was thrown face first into the brick facade.

"Ooof," she gasped as the air fled her lungs upon impact. Instinctively, she struck out with her arms, trying to catch her assailant off guard.

"C'mon Buff, I'm harder to hurt than that."  He grabbed her, pushing her forcefully into the wall.

The low, hateful tone slid down her spine like ice.  It was him.  She should have known better.  He was never going to give up until she was dead.  Giles was right.

"What do you want, Angel?"  She shifted, trying to wrest herself from his grasp.  He quickly countered and neutralized her efforts, yanking her around to face him, and pushing her back against the wall, subduing her completely.


The single word, uttered in that soft, menacing voice, sent shock waves through her nervous system.

Panic laced her voice as she stammered, "But...I hate me and besides you said I wasn't even that good in bed so why would you bother when I'm sure you could find some receptive bimbo to uh...get up close and personal --"

He cut her off.  "You're babbling.  You always babble when you get nervous.  I used to think it was cute.  Now I just think it's annoying."

"Nervous?  Me?   I never get --"

She never managed to get the last part out because he silenced her rambling with a ferocious kiss.  Her eyes widened and she tried to squirm out of his arms, jerking her head to the side to evade his mouth.

Not again, she screamed mentally, I can't handle it again. Nononononononono.  Her heart, already torn freshly in half from the previous night's events, gave a sickening lurch as she heard the
unmistakable sound of cloth tearing.

That noise galvanized her shaken nervous system. Quickly, she pushed off from the wall, upsetting his balance.  Seizing the opportunity, Buffy darted forward towards the gate, only to be brought to her knees by a flying tackle.

She hit the dirt, Angelus landing heavily on top of her.

"Now, Buffy," he purred, "Is this all really necessary?  All this violence...I'm beginning to think you actually get off on it."

Buffy struggled against him, not realizing her squirms and wriggles were causing him to become more fully aroused.

"Enough," he bellowed.  "I'm tired of you fighting.  This is inevitable, so just accept it and maybe I won't kill you when I'm done."  For a second, his weight was gone as he rolled her over, but an instant later, he resumed his position on top of her.

She froze.  And glared.  "You couldn't kill me, you overgrown mosquito."

His eyes darkened.

"You know, on the way here, I was debating whether to snatch your precious Willow off the street and take her here, and fuck her until she died.  I decided not to, because even fighting me, you are so much sexier."

"Go.  Fuck.  Yourself."

"Nah, I'd rather have you do it for me.  I'd rather have you take those little hands and run them down me, maybe follow them down with your tongue --"

"-- Dream ON, Dead Boy."

"Oh, I think you will, Buff.  Because if you don't...I think I can arrange for little Willow to be...initiated, shall we say, with much more force than you really would want for her."

"If you touch one hair on her head, so help me GOD, I will rip you apart with my bare hands."

"Would it be rude if I pointed out that you are in no position to be threatening me?".  He grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her head to the side, baring her neck.  Ducking his head down, he traced a vein with the tip of his tongue.

Buffy's eyes dilated as the lust ran undiluted through her bloodstream.

//I CAN'T want him, I can't...he's not my Angel, he's not the one...he's just a fiend wearing Angel's skin.//

Her body didn't seem to care.  Traitor that it was, it flexed and arched under him, striving for the most body-to-body contact.

Angelus read the signs well; the loosening of her muscles, the arching of her neck, the force where her hips pressed against his, begging for the pressure, deep, where she needed it.

"Do you ache, Buffy?  Do you ache deep inside where only I've been, where only I've touched?"

She shook her head, mute with shame.

"I know, I know," he said in a oddly soothing tone.  "You can't help wanting me, any more than I can help wanting you.  So I say we just go with it."  He let go of her chin to stroke her face.  "You are so beautiful...I could make that beauty last for all eternity.  You could be beautiful and young until the end of time.  With me."

He knew he would never be able to convince her that she should allow him to bring her across, but he had hoped to arouse her to the point of no return, where she wouldn't realize what he was doing until it was too late and she was his for all time.  Sneaky, but efficient.

Down deep, he could feel Angel fighting him, fighting for control of the body, but he would never give in.  Once Buffy, his reason for living, was turned, Angel would have no reason to come back, and he, Angelus, would have peace for once in his over two hundred years.

//She will be mine, Angel, and she will rule over the vampires at my side.  With her strength, her character...only imagine what kind of vampire she will make.  She will be a goddess among our people.//

Buffy raised frightened eyes to him.  The sight of her fear struck his nervous system with a shot of pure adrenaline.  He had won.  She was vanquished.

"Do you yield?" he rasped.

She looked at his chest, refusing eye contact.  He tilted her head up, needing to see the surrender he knew he would find written there.

So it came as a surprise to him when he suddenly found himself flat on his back, with the bouncing fury that was the Slayer astride him.

"Never," she hissed.  " I will never *surrender*.  You will bow before me first.  The tables have just turned, Angelus."

He sucked in a breath as she pressed herself to his chest, the large cross she wore burning him.

"You want me, and I can't seem to stop wanting you, so like you said, we should go for it.  But I think I like my rules better.  So from now on, I'm the boss.  What I say goes.  You can have me when *I* say.  No more nailing me in a darkened alley."

Angelus snarled.  "Bitch!  You will rue the day --" He broke off with a moan as she ground herself down onto him, rubbing against the powerful erection that was prodding her inner thigh.

He looked at her, seeing the lust play across her face, noting her head tilting back, her muscles tightening.  //Two can play at this game.//

Snaking his hands down, he gripped her waist, lifting her slightly off of him, just preventing contact with his hardness.  Buffy moaned, a harsh, wanton sound.

"I thought you were offended by the alley, by my choice of ambience," he grinned maliciously.  "Or have you changed your mind?"

Buffy glanced down, her body already on fire for him.  "Shut up, Angel."  Ducking her head, she assaulted his mouth with her own.  He was ready for her, and his tongue battled hers.

His fingers found the edge of her skirt, pushing it out of his way.  She moaned as he found her, hot and soaking wet, the ache between her thighs nearly consuming her.

She wriggled against him, needing his touch desperately.  He knew that, and so he avoided the spot that needed his attention the most, taunting her.

Snarling against his lips, Buffy ground herself down on him, trying to attain some of the pressure she craved.

Angelus laughed, a low, wicked sound.  "All right, my love, all right. I wouldn't want you to go without..."  He pushed aside the crotch of her panties, exposing all of her weeping flesh to his skilled touch.

She squirmed on those magical fingers, the pleasure running hot through her.  Moving her hips, she rubbed her ass against his cock, seeking to blow the remainder of his control.

At the pressure of her body against his cock, his eyes rolled back in his head and a low growl erupted from his throat.

Their eyes locked and all playing, all teasing, stopped.  Moving as one being, they tugged his zipper down, exposed his cock, and ripped her flimsy panties away from her body.

Bracing her hands on his chest, Buffy lifted up slightly, and sank down on Angelus' shaft.  She whimpered slightly, his girth stretching her inner walls.  She bit her lip as he grabbed her hips, forcing her the rest of the way down.

Her head spun.  //I'm fucking Angel in the middle of an alley, where the whole fucking world can see.  I've lost my mind.//

Angelus' eyes narrowed, as though he could hear her thoughts.  Seeking to bring her back to him, he snaked a hand down to where she was filled with him.  Tracing a finger over her swollen flesh, he flicked her clit, rubbing gently with his thumb.

Buffy's attention snapped back to him.  Moaning, her hips arching toward him, she began a rocking motion, lifting up off of him, then slamming back down.

He gripped her hips harder, aiding her, making her speed up until she was bouncing on his cock.  Her eyes closed, her body slick with sweat, Buffy rode her fallen Angel into ecstasy.

The orgasm took her by surprise, pushing her over the edge.  "ANGEL!" she screamed, convulsing around him.  Angelus smiled ruthlessly as she collapsed on his chest.

When she came to, long minutes later, she realized two things.  The first was that he had not joined her, that he was still unsatisfied, and the second was that he was snickering.

Looking at him, she frowned.  "What's so damn funny?"

His eyes were uncharacteristically gleeful.  "Spike was right.  I can't kill you, because I can't stop fucking you.  It's a catch 22."

Her eyes narrowed and she tried to stand in an attempt to deny him his own release.

He was having none of that and grabbed her by the hips and rolled abruptly so that she was on her back, with him looming on top of her. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Buffy, being a cocktease is not nice."

"Fuck.  You."

"You are, lover, you are."

Lifting her leg so that she held him within the cradle of thighs, he resumed his thrusting, pounding forcefully into her.  She whimpered, his cock rasping over already tender flesh.  Suddenly, he moaned, a deep gutteral sound, his muscles rigid, braced for release.  He hovered there, on the edge of satiation until she took pity on him and bit his neck, hard.

Angelus howled, his body exploding within hers.  For long moments, he continued to thrust inside her warmth, draining himself within her.  He moved to complete his satisfaction, ducking his head to feed from her. Buffy took that opportunity to push him off of her, denying him the pleasure of her blood.  He was still weak from his release, and he could do nothing but clumsily roll to the side.

As he realized what she had done, he snarled, muscles bunching as he leapt towards her.  She dove out of his way, rolling away from him, from his rage.  "DAMN IT BUFFY!" he bellowed, enraged.

Grinning wickedly, Buffy backed away from her irate lover, holding out calming hands.  "Well, lover...let's just say we're even now."  She yanked her skirt down to cover her moist sex.

He just snarled, anger stamped across his vampiric features.  He leapt to his feet, aggravatedly jerking up his pants.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of approaching people.  Both heads jerked up, trying to discern from where the voices were coming.  Buffy froze as she heard the unmistakable sounds of Cordelia's bitching.

She looked at Angelus, panicked.  He knew what she feared, and he winked at her.  "Go ahead, my love...I won't tell your friends that you're fucking your soulless ex-boyfriend...for now."

She nodded, knowing that he would keep his mouth shut for his own purposes.

As he backed away into the shadows of the night, Angelus whispered, "'Till next time, my love...'till next time..."  With those words, he disappeared into the inky blackness.

Watching him fade away, Buffy shuddered.  He would be back for revenge for her latest stunt.  She knew that.  And when the time came, she would pay.



For now.

To be continued in "Demon: Unbidden".  Praise, flames, and hunky undead
guys to me at

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