Patiently, I wait for his response, knowing he’ll need some time. I watch him mull over my words and can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. Does he think I’m nothing but a mere child in his eyes? Does he think I’m not worth the trouble? Or does he think.. I’ve no idea what he’s thinking, but I’m willing to wait and find out. Though, I cannot help but bracing myself against some kind of rejection. Automatism, I suppose. I need to be careful of that and not blurt out things that may hurt him in my automatism.
When I look over at him though, he looks at me rather speechless. What? What did I say? Did I say something stupid? Mulling the words over in my own mind, I come up blank, but I *can* be pretty naïve and not even realize it. I’m about to open my mouth and apologize for whatever it was I said wrong this time, but he’s moving around. Where’s he going? Is he leaving? God, what did I say? Oh…
I blink up at him when he’s suddenly hovering above me. His eyes are locked on mine and I can’t look away, even if I were to try. That look alone takes my breath away, and when he starts to talk, I can only look at him stunned. Words get caught in my throat and I suddenly feel self conscious again. Sucking in my breath, I swallow the small sob that wants to escape at his words. Get a grip, Pryce, he doesn’t need you to do this now. He may not understand that it’s not the pain, or humiliation you’ve felt in the past that makes you feel like this. But his words do.
I’m speechless, a novelty. Without the kisses that is. Oh… Oh my.
His lips are moving over the marred skin on my chest. Kissing scars, from Faith, from the explosion, from fighting… from my father, though I doubt Angel knows that. He’ll never need to know either. I’m starting to tremble harder with each kiss, with each claim that I’m hiss. My throat tightens nearly closed and it hurts as I keep swallowing down on the emotions wanting to pour out. I suddenly find myself laying there, unable to move and looking at him with stunned adoration.
“Yours,” I whisper, tilting my neck to expose it further. He’s not the only one with a neck fetish it seems as a violent shiver goes through me. Or maybe it’s just Angel that has this effect on me. “All yours.” My hand comes up to cart though his hair as my eyes close and I finally let my breath out. Slow and shuddering, trying to keep control of myself. Don't loose it now. Angel needs you.
Ignoring his neck for now, but seriously appreciating the gesture, I give him a lick along my mark and move away with his breath fluttering over my face.
I cover the hand in my hair with my own, and bring it to my mouth to kiss his palm, then his wrist. An idea sparks, and I run my teeth lightly across his wrist. "That's mine, too. Could take it any time I wanted." I give the thin skin there a light suck so he gets my full meaning. Kissing up his arm to his elbow, I gently guide his arm down onto the bed. My other hand finds his other wrist and presses that to the bed too. "And I will." I meet his eyes again. I *will* claim him.
I feel all the trembles and shudders as they go through him, all these nervous vibrations of a man trying desperately to stay in control. He can do this, if I can just find the right words. I squeeze his wrists tightly with my hands, circling, letting him feel the strength of them
“I’m never letting you go.” You never have to worry about anyone abandoning you again. You never have to be alone. I'll always be here. I squeeze a little tighter, but not to the point of bruising. He’s so exposed, so vulnerable right now, but I need him to feel safe.
“Close your eyes.” My hands release his wrists. “You still feel that? Feel me holding on, keeping you safe? That’s never going to go away.” I run a swift hand along his side before getting out of bed. “Keep your eyes closed. Focus on your wrists.” It’s a fine line playing this game with Wesley. I know how easily he can be broken in a bad way instead of a good way. But I need him to break. I want him to give his control to me. Let me take that burden for a little while. I rifle through his closet and find two ties still perfect and waiting for that old Watcher to come back and wear a perfectly pressed suit again.
Back in bed I press kisses to his palms and wrists, encircling them again just for a few moments. “Good. You’re doing so good.” Lashing the ties around the slats of his simple headboard, I circle the cool silk around his wrists. How perfectly ironic. The ties from his old life being used to release him from that same life.
I slide my hands along his arms, and then kiss his mouth where it has parted. He needs something to ground him. I take my time tasting him, letting him know I'm here with him. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth once I’ve pull back to let him breath.
Shuddering with the need to stay in control, I keep watching him. Or try to, his hands and lips on my body making that damn near impossible. But when he takes hold of my hand and kisses the palm, my eyes fly open and I look at him. Swallowing hard makes my throat hurt even more as he moves on my wrist. I glance at them. Thin, fragile, blood running so close to the surface. He’d not even have to try hard to break them. Hell, if a normal human can will little effort, he can do it in the blink of an eye. When he sucks on it though, I gasp out loud, looking at him with a mixture of shock and trust at the same time.
When he takes hold of my other wrist, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sure he can hear it too. A slight case of panic rises through me and I keep telling myself I can do this. Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. Without hesitation, or at least not much. His hands tighten their grip and my heart hammers louder, stomach fluttering as I push down the fear trying to come to the fore. Automatism. Breathing in shallow pants, much to quick, I try to take in his words.
He’ll never let me go. I keep telling myself that. He’ll never let me go. I’ll never let him go. Unless he needs to go eh? Weakling. He’ll never let me go. I’m safe, this is Angel, nothing can happen. He’ll not hurt me, not willingly. I’m his, to do with as he pleases, up to a certain point. But he’ll never hurt me. And what about Angelus? Are you safe from him as well? I keep breathing much to fast as I look at him, trying to quell down the fear that keeps trying to bubble up. Slowly licking my lips, I do what he asks, and close my eyes.
His voice is still there, but others are trying to drown him out. It’s quite a battle for the stronger one to be heard. “Shut up, Pryce! Unless you want me to gag you as well.” “Stop crying. You call yourself a man?” “ Don’t make me hit you again. There’s nothing you can do anyway.” “Don’t hurt me.” Please, please don’t hurt me. I can feel the bed dip and the panic nearly becomes to much. “Angel?” I call out weakly, not opening my eyes. He’s not said I could, but where is he going? He’s not leaving. He’ll never let go, remember?
He may only have gone for a split second, but it seems like an eternity when I finally feel the bed dip again. I feel naked, and vulnerable, and so very, very weak and small. That only increases when I suddenly feel my wrists tied to the bed. I had not expected us to do this so soon, but I’ll do whatever he wants. Needs. I’m struggling to keep a tight reign on my control now. Concentrating on him, his nearness, the way he feels, my own breathing would be nice too. Hyperventilating now would probably panic Angel as well.
Calm down, nothing’s going to happen. Letting out my breath slowly as his lips brush against mine, I finally open my eyes to look at him, swallowing hard. I can feel my hands clenching and un-clenching into fists, pulling only slightly to feel how tight they’re tied down as he kisses me. We take our time and I use it to try and calm down. His kisses seem to have the usual desired effect of shutting my brain off. "Angel,” I breathe out, still trembling hard. Harder even now. Searching his eyes I try to find that center, that one acknowledgement from him that this’ll be fine. I’ll be fine and he’s going to catch me no matter what.
I knew he'd be scared, and nervous, but the smell of fear is too strong. I need to back down a little. This is going to take more than a few words and some neckties. The trembling and the weak cry when I left the bed I expected, but the shallow, almost panicked breathing and the too fast heartbeat, I didn't. And I'm trying not to think that his plea not to hurt him wasn't directed at me.
"Kiss me, Wes. I'm the only one here, and you know I would never hurt you. Trust that." I ask, giving him back a little of that control, letting him have something familiar, something he's confident in. My mouth is inches from his, and he doesn't have to move much to fulfill my request, but it feels like eternity before he moves. The worry that I might have pushed too far too fast might have made it seem longer than it was. That tiny seed of doubt took an instant and turned it into a year. What if I break him too much?
I let him control the kiss, responding as much as he needs. I let both hands run through his hair, cupping his head. You're safe. You're safe here. I've got you. Just me. No one else. When the kiss ends, I kiss his forehead and let him breathe. "You tell me if you need me to untie you, okay?" I catch his gaze to show him I mean it. I'll do it in a heartbeat. This stops the minute he wants it too. It's hard to tell if he can really trust me to do that, though. I think he thinks this is about me, about showing power, but it's not. We both know I could master him physically without any bonds, so it's not about that at all.
I can feel his arms straining slightly in the bonds, testing them, and I can't help it, it arouses me a little. Predator and prey. Him trapped at my mercy...but that isn't how I want to play this. He knows that game, and I think that's what scares him. He knows what's it's like to be powerless, but I don't want him to feel that way with me.
Kiss him? I thought I was? Well, if one wishes to be technical, he was kissing me, but that’s just details isn’t it? Kiss him. He’s the one here with me, no one else. It’s then I realize that those loud voices have turned into a distant whisper for now. I can still hear them, but I can easily ignore them. For now, Angel’s voice has won, has managed to drown out the others. I’m not sure anyone else ever accomplished that. I certainly never have able to do so.
I keep looking into his eyes, seeing the desperation there. His need for me to trust him, to not be afraid of him. Even if he realizes it’s not him I’m scared of, he still worries. Kiss him. There’s a tiny, nervous smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I lift my head up. Only needs a few small inches, he’s so close by. My eyes dart to his lips, my own already parted before looking into his eyes again. My arms strain above my head against the headboard as I move that last bit of distance and press my lips to his.
My eyes close as I groan into his mouth. The kiss is slow, gentle while I try to show Angel that I do trust him. I trust *him*, but I seem to have the same problem he does. Which takes me quite by surprise to be honest. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself to keep it together and I’m not at all sure if I should. Keep it together I mean. Angel’s hands burry themselves in my hair and all thoughts fly out the window. I tilt my head to deepen the kiss, tugging at the bonds because I want to touch him as well. Instead I pull my legs up and wrap them around him, pulling him closer.
When we finally pull back for air, or I am once again, - really a annoying thing that - I lean my head in his hands, quite comfortable there for now. When he kisses my forehead, my eyes flutter for a moment but I can feel another wall cracking. There’s still that lingering fear, but not as much as before. He’s got me, rather literally at the moment. And I want to give him this, even though I’m not sure if I can. My mouth opens several times as I try to push the words past my throat.
“I know,” I whisper, once again giving him that small smile. It wasn’t what he asked, but it was what he thought. It was easy to read on his face. I know he’d not hesitate the minute I would utter so much a negative peep. “I’ll be fine, love. I trust you. We’ll be fine.” We have to be, dammit. No matter what.
I catch his groan into my mouth, loving that at least there's a part of him that's enjoying this. It's such a slippery slope and I'm worried we're sliding the wrong direction. I return the groan, at the feel of his arms straining next to mine as I hold his head. I want him to trust that I will catch him when he's ready to let go. His mouth opens wider and he's pressing up against me wantonly, and I feel like I'm the one who might need catching for a moment.
His legs around me surprise me and I moan at the contact, and at how much he needs to be closer. After I kiss his forehead, I flex my hips a little, nudging him out of that comfort zone. Obviously, we're naked and sex seems like a given, but the emotional part was hard for him and I'm not sure how he's going to react as it turns sexual.
I smile back at how easily he reads my thoughts. That's exactly what I wanted to say. He's really catching on to what I hold back. I have got to be the luckiest vampire...and we *are* going to be fine.
Feeling more sure of him and myself, I rub my hands along the thighs wrapped around my waist. I ease them off, missing the contact, but he's got to trust me to make this work. I do keep my body close so he doesn't feel like I'm far away, though. "Let me." Let me show you, Let me love you. "Just feel. Try not to talk." That could go either way on making him feel more secure. I know sometimes it helps to babble, but this way he can't protest or worry that he'll say the wrong thing.
I move back up to his neck, biting his ear playfully. "I love how you hear what I want to say, even when I can't say it." I nibble along his jaw, rubbing my skin against the beginnings of stubble there. "I love how strong you are underneath everything." My survivor. Angelus would love to break him. Really break him. I move down to his neck, smelling his scent, his blood, and I feel him open his neck to me. "And I love how willing you are to please me. Gets me hot when you do that, Wes." I tell him other things I love as I kiss across his shoulders, and bite his biceps that are taut and tense.
I know it's hard for him to hear these things, even though they're good things. Sometimes it hurts more to hear the good things because you want so badly to believe them. I stop talking for a little while as I lick and kiss across his chest. Slowly, I suck one of his nipples into my mouth, and involuntarily grind against him. This is getting me hotter than I thought, I really wasn't paying attention to my own reactions. "Do you...have anything...for lube?" I ask between my attentions.
The moment we pull back, he nudges against me and I just want to lock my ankles around him. Needing that bit of closeness to comfort me, since it’s all I have left in means of touching him. I feel a bit lost when not touching him, lost when he should need comfort and I’d have to ask him to untie me. Not really the kind of comfort he’d need… if he’d need it. It doesn’t escape me that I’m thinking these things so it doesn’t occur to me that I’m the one who’ll need the comfort right now.
His smile though, at my words, make me feel a bit more at ease. Not much, there’s no chance in hell I can forget my current position, but it’s still something. Of course then Angel moves his hands to my tights and I can feel a tremble going through me at the touch. My back twinges a little, mostly because of the awkward position I’ve moved myself in, but I can once again easily ignore it. I need my concentration on something else now. Must keep that tiny bit of control I’ve left.
Except, he moves my legs down and that small feeling of panic comes back. I push it down, focusing on his face. Watching his lips move, trying to hear the words. Let him. Let him what? Do this, I already was letting him do this. Even though I’m not entirely certain what exactly ‘this’ is. He seems to know though and that’s what I cling onto or else I’d be completely lost. Then he starts to move and I'm trembling again. Lips moving over my skin, words whispering and hammering at the walls I’ve put up around me. I feel defenseless, as though him tying me down left me without my armor.
I’ve nowhere to go, now where to hide. All I can do is…let him. I close my eyes and tilt my head again, swallowing hard. Don’t talk, he’s said, just feel. But it’s hard not to talk, because the words of protest are ready to spill out of my mouth. I’m not what he tells me, he seems to believe otherwise though. My throat is closing up again, making breathing even harder. It’s about the same time I realize how terribly arousing this is. And once again I’m floored by the realization. Angel seems to be teaching me new things the entire time, making me feel humbled.
My body arches into his touches without much thought from me, especially when he comes close to my throat. I’m panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering my body as I try my best to obey his words. Don’t talk. Just feel. “I’m not,” rushes out anyway at his words of praise, though barely audible through my ragged breaths. Moaning at the feeling of his lips, his teeth, his tongue, I close my eyes again and try to…just feel. What? Lube? I blink at him, letting those words sink in before I catch their meaning. “Oh, Uh….soap?” But the bathroom is so far, far away suddenly. Don't leave me. "M-maybe in the nightstand?"
Staring at the picture of him struggling and sweaty, I momentarily forget what I asked him, but a moan that escapes me, reminds me what I was doing. Leaning up across him, I reach for the nightstand drawer. Peering in, I don't see anything at first, but a small bottle of lotion grabs my attention. I feel a spark of jealousy that it might have been Virginia's. But that disappears quickly as I look back at the beautiful man beneath me.
"Beautiful." I say reverently, returning to my place between his thighs. I lay the lotion next to him, not quite ready for it, but I wanted to have it before things got carried away...more. I return to kissing his chest, each rib, dipping my tongue into his belly button. "You are so beautiful, Wes. I want to draw you sometime." Show you all these beautiful muscles, this skin, your eyes darkening with lust, lips parted and chest heaving for breath.
"You think you're not strong," I heard that protest, that belief he couldn't keep hidden "but...I've seen you, I know you. Better than all those people who said otherwise." I stroke his arms, his sides as I return to a nipple. "Trust me, not them." I tug on one with my teeth and suck until it's small and hard between my lips. Groaning, I let go. "Strong and beautiful. This stomach, your long legs, this," I whisper as my hand wraps around his cock. "Those eyes I can't seem to tear myself away from."
I stroke him lightly, until he's truly hard. "Let go, Wes." Don't listen to those voices. Listen to *me* "I've got you. I want to please you. Let me see what I do to you. Let go." I let go to stroke along the inside of his thighs, feeling the heat there, spreading my hands in that warmth. Grabbing the lotion, I spread a little quickly over my fingers. I tease his entrance, drawing his attention to my hand. "Stop doubting yourself. Feel." My finger stills over his opening, pressing lightly, but not bridging that barrier yet. "I've got control, I'll catch you. ...You can't fail me." I say as I slip one finger inside him finally.
Please, please let there be something in the nightstand. I don’t think I can keep calm if he had to move away from me now. Even if he were to return within a few seconds. Craning my neck, I watch him rummage through my nightstand, shifting my body close to his. I’d say it’s tracking his heat, but I know that’s not true. I just want to be with Angel, don’t even have to think about it. He’s back before I know it though, and tosses some bottle on the bed. I’m guessing he was successful then.
It doesn’t matter, since I’ve only eyes for him. He’s kissing my skin again, my body and I want to protest each word he says. But the words forming in my mind, don’t make much sense, let alone the fact that I’ve no idea if I actually can speak. Don’t talk, just feel. My breath is coming with short, sharp gasps now, sucking in my breath everytime his tongue touches me, his lips, his hands. Angel. His, I’m his and his touch is marking me, burning me. Drawing me…. Drawing me? I frown and look at him confused at that. Why’d he want to draw me? Does he expect me to answer him?
But he’s still busy, his mouth is still moving, and my brain has apparently kicked in again. Worthless. Look at you. You had a choice, and you still allowed yourself to be tied down. Pathetic. And then there are Angel’s words, washing over me like heavens tongue. Lapping at me to believe. It’s hard, it’s so very difficult to believe Angel and so very, very easy to believe….the others. Them. Him. Squeezing my eyes shut, my head tosses from side to side to drown out the voices and do as he said. Just feel.
Oh god! I certainly felt that. A stab of pain shoots through my back as my hips arch up into his hand. Listen to him, not to the voices. As if you can hide from the truth. You’re still what you were. Spreading them wide without complaint, because you know you’re a weakling. Wider! Pryce, wider! Let it go, Angel whispers. But I can’t, I can’t seem to let go, I’m hanging on by the fingernails, barely. A cry that may have been a sob pushes past my lips when one finger slips inside me.
“Angel,” I whisper with a trembling voice. Shut them up, please, please shut them up. “Kiss me, please." Shut off my brain, make me stop thinking. Now. I need you, I want you, I trust you. Please, catch me.
His breath is some rhythm or music that I can't make out, but it keeps constant, little gasps and whispers creating a small symphony against my ears. There's a hint of fear I'm smelling again, but it's faint and sweet. He feels close. My finger's barely inside him when I hear his sob. It makes me think we finally got somewhere, but that thought is short-lived.
His whisper breaks through my focus like a stake. I slide my finger lose in an instant, even the thought of hurting him or making him panic doesn't make me change my mind. He needs hands on him, hands that he can't use. I should let him go.
It's less than a moment before I'm kissing him my hands splaying across his cheek, fingers in his hair. I'm here, I'm here. I've got you. Did I go to far? Was it too much? Obviously it was too much...but it was also not enough. I didn't get it right. But I told him I would be here and I am. I'm here to keep him safe.
"Mine," I murmur between desperate kisses. I kiss him over and over until the trembling slows. His voice was so desperate... I don't know what those demons are chasing at his heels, but I want them gone now. He's mine. I feel a growl rising at the thought. Fighting the urge to untie him and cradle him in my arms, I try to find some more words that will make some sense to him.
"Whoever's hurt you, you don't belong to them. You're mine." That last word is a growl. "They don't know you. They don't know the man who keeps me safe. Who keeps fighting even when he knows he's sending people to die. They don't know the man who saw the good in something that has been evil far longer than good, and still trusts in that goodness. ...They don't love you." I whisper, swallowing hard, my dead heart aching.
He was right. I was right as well. All I need to do is say the word and he’s there. His hands on my face, lips hovering over mine. I throw myself into the kiss as much as I can, using it to banish the ghosts of the past. They’re fading away deep and deeper inside me with each brush of his lips. No, they’re not supposed to fade into me, I want them gone. I want them out of me, away from me, stop bothering me. Stop taunting me, stop scaring me. His hands are grounding me, his kisses are like an anchor on a stormy sea.
It takes quite a while for the trembling to stop and the voices to quiet down. They’re not gone yet, but they’ve been silenced once again. And once more it was Angel who managed to do that. Swallowing hard, I look at him, eyes searching his desperately. His words hit me like a hammer, there’s another sob trying to get out of me. My control is slipping and slipping fast. He’s all I have to hold onto, the only one left to make me feel safe. Straining my arms to wrap them around him only makes me realized that I’m tied up, at his mercy.
I’m his and he’s mine. But I’m his, that’s more important. He can never fully be mine, but I’m his. I’m trembling again at his words, his touches, but this time it’s because I’m trying to keep the emotions to keep from bursting out. I don’t want to scare Angel off, but he’s very persistent that I do let go. The problem is that I’ve no idea how, I’ve never done that before. Never needed to, never wanted to. You’re safe. Angel will be there, he’ll never hurt you. Never let anyone hurt you again. I want to, I want to so desperately.
Parting my lips, I take a shuddering breath as he keeps on talking. “Yours,” I whisper, and that was a mistake. The moment one tiny sound gets past my throat, it’s as though a dam breaks. Oh god, don’t tell me I’m crying. No, no, no, not that, anything but that. It’ll scare Angel, it’ll frighten him away. Taking a deep breath, I try to swallow it down, quite annoyed about the fact that I can’t wipe my face. It’s vulnerable and quite open for Angel to read. Which was what he wanted, I suddenly realize. Another deep breath, I allow my eyes to meet his again, and even though I’m scared, I let him read everything there is to read. Giving myself over to him….hoping that my trust it answered.
When I look over at him though, he looks at me rather speechless. What? What did I say? Did I say something stupid? Mulling the words over in my own mind, I come up blank, but I *can* be pretty naïve and not even realize it. I’m about to open my mouth and apologize for whatever it was I said wrong this time, but he’s moving around. Where’s he going? Is he leaving? God, what did I say? Oh…
I blink up at him when he’s suddenly hovering above me. His eyes are locked on mine and I can’t look away, even if I were to try. That look alone takes my breath away, and when he starts to talk, I can only look at him stunned. Words get caught in my throat and I suddenly feel self conscious again. Sucking in my breath, I swallow the small sob that wants to escape at his words. Get a grip, Pryce, he doesn’t need you to do this now. He may not understand that it’s not the pain, or humiliation you’ve felt in the past that makes you feel like this. But his words do.
I’m speechless, a novelty. Without the kisses that is. Oh… Oh my.
His lips are moving over the marred skin on my chest. Kissing scars, from Faith, from the explosion, from fighting… from my father, though I doubt Angel knows that. He’ll never need to know either. I’m starting to tremble harder with each kiss, with each claim that I’m hiss. My throat tightens nearly closed and it hurts as I keep swallowing down on the emotions wanting to pour out. I suddenly find myself laying there, unable to move and looking at him with stunned adoration.
“Yours,” I whisper, tilting my neck to expose it further. He’s not the only one with a neck fetish it seems as a violent shiver goes through me. Or maybe it’s just Angel that has this effect on me. “All yours.” My hand comes up to cart though his hair as my eyes close and I finally let my breath out. Slow and shuddering, trying to keep control of myself. Don't loose it now. Angel needs you.
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I cover the hand in my hair with my own, and bring it to my mouth to kiss his palm, then his wrist. An idea sparks, and I run my teeth lightly across his wrist. "That's mine, too. Could take it any time I wanted." I give the thin skin there a light suck so he gets my full meaning. Kissing up his arm to his elbow, I gently guide his arm down onto the bed. My other hand finds his other wrist and presses that to the bed too. "And I will." I meet his eyes again. I *will* claim him.
I feel all the trembles and shudders as they go through him, all these nervous vibrations of a man trying desperately to stay in control. He can do this, if I can just find the right words. I squeeze his wrists tightly with my hands, circling, letting him feel the strength of them
“I’m never letting you go.” You never have to worry about anyone abandoning you again. You never have to be alone. I'll always be here. I squeeze a little tighter, but not to the point of bruising. He’s so exposed, so vulnerable right now, but I need him to feel safe.
“Close your eyes.” My hands release his wrists. “You still feel that? Feel me holding on, keeping you safe? That’s never going to go away.” I run a swift hand along his side before getting out of bed. “Keep your eyes closed. Focus on your wrists.” It’s a fine line playing this game with Wesley. I know how easily he can be broken in a bad way instead of a good way. But I need him to break. I want him to give his control to me. Let me take that burden for a little while. I rifle through his closet and find two ties still perfect and waiting for that old Watcher to come back and wear a perfectly pressed suit again.
Back in bed I press kisses to his palms and wrists, encircling them again just for a few moments. “Good. You’re doing so good.” Lashing the ties around the slats of his simple headboard, I circle the cool silk around his wrists. How perfectly ironic. The ties from his old life being used to release him from that same life.
I slide my hands along his arms, and then kiss his mouth where it has parted. He needs something to ground him. I take my time tasting him, letting him know I'm here with him. “I love you,” I whisper against his mouth once I’ve pull back to let him breath.
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When he takes hold of my other wrist, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sure he can hear it too. A slight case of panic rises through me and I keep telling myself I can do this. Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. Without hesitation, or at least not much. His hands tighten their grip and my heart hammers louder, stomach fluttering as I push down the fear trying to come to the fore. Automatism. Breathing in shallow pants, much to quick, I try to take in his words.
He’ll never let me go. I keep telling myself that. He’ll never let me go. I’ll never let him go. Unless he needs to go eh? Weakling. He’ll never let me go. I’m safe, this is Angel, nothing can happen. He’ll not hurt me, not willingly. I’m his, to do with as he pleases, up to a certain point. But he’ll never hurt me. And what about Angelus? Are you safe from him as well? I keep breathing much to fast as I look at him, trying to quell down the fear that keeps trying to bubble up. Slowly licking my lips, I do what he asks, and close my eyes.
His voice is still there, but others are trying to drown him out. It’s quite a battle for the stronger one to be heard. “Shut up, Pryce! Unless you want me to gag you as well.” “Stop crying. You call yourself a man?” “ Don’t make me hit you again. There’s nothing you can do anyway.” “Don’t hurt me.” Please, please don’t hurt me. I can feel the bed dip and the panic nearly becomes to much. “Angel?” I call out weakly, not opening my eyes. He’s not said I could, but where is he going? He’s not leaving. He’ll never let go, remember?
He may only have gone for a split second, but it seems like an eternity when I finally feel the bed dip again. I feel naked, and vulnerable, and so very, very weak and small. That only increases when I suddenly feel my wrists tied to the bed. I had not expected us to do this so soon, but I’ll do whatever he wants. Needs. I’m struggling to keep a tight reign on my control now. Concentrating on him, his nearness, the way he feels, my own breathing would be nice too. Hyperventilating now would probably panic Angel as well.
Calm down, nothing’s going to happen. Letting out my breath slowly as his lips brush against mine, I finally open my eyes to look at him, swallowing hard. I can feel my hands clenching and un-clenching into fists, pulling only slightly to feel how tight they’re tied down as he kisses me. We take our time and I use it to try and calm down. His kisses seem to have the usual desired effect of shutting my brain off. "Angel,” I breathe out, still trembling hard. Harder even now. Searching his eyes I try to find that center, that one acknowledgement from him that this’ll be fine. I’ll be fine and he’s going to catch me no matter what.
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"Kiss me, Wes. I'm the only one here, and you know I would never hurt you. Trust that." I ask, giving him back a little of that control, letting him have something familiar, something he's confident in. My mouth is inches from his, and he doesn't have to move much to fulfill my request, but it feels like eternity before he moves. The worry that I might have pushed too far too fast might have made it seem longer than it was. That tiny seed of doubt took an instant and turned it into a year. What if I break him too much?
I let him control the kiss, responding as much as he needs. I let both hands run through his hair, cupping his head. You're safe. You're safe here. I've got you. Just me. No one else. When the kiss ends, I kiss his forehead and let him breathe. "You tell me if you need me to untie you, okay?" I catch his gaze to show him I mean it. I'll do it in a heartbeat. This stops the minute he wants it too. It's hard to tell if he can really trust me to do that, though. I think he thinks this is about me, about showing power, but it's not. We both know I could master him physically without any bonds, so it's not about that at all.
I can feel his arms straining slightly in the bonds, testing them, and I can't help it, it arouses me a little. Predator and prey. Him trapped at my mercy...but that isn't how I want to play this. He knows that game, and I think that's what scares him. He knows what's it's like to be powerless, but I don't want him to feel that way with me.
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I keep looking into his eyes, seeing the desperation there. His need for me to trust him, to not be afraid of him. Even if he realizes it’s not him I’m scared of, he still worries. Kiss him. There’s a tiny, nervous smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I lift my head up. Only needs a few small inches, he’s so close by. My eyes dart to his lips, my own already parted before looking into his eyes again. My arms strain above my head against the headboard as I move that last bit of distance and press my lips to his.
My eyes close as I groan into his mouth. The kiss is slow, gentle while I try to show Angel that I do trust him. I trust *him*, but I seem to have the same problem he does. Which takes me quite by surprise to be honest. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself to keep it together and I’m not at all sure if I should. Keep it together I mean. Angel’s hands burry themselves in my hair and all thoughts fly out the window. I tilt my head to deepen the kiss, tugging at the bonds because I want to touch him as well. Instead I pull my legs up and wrap them around him, pulling him closer.
When we finally pull back for air, or I am once again, - really a annoying thing that - I lean my head in his hands, quite comfortable there for now. When he kisses my forehead, my eyes flutter for a moment but I can feel another wall cracking. There’s still that lingering fear, but not as much as before. He’s got me, rather literally at the moment. And I want to give him this, even though I’m not sure if I can. My mouth opens several times as I try to push the words past my throat.
“I know,” I whisper, once again giving him that small smile. It wasn’t what he asked, but it was what he thought. It was easy to read on his face. I know he’d not hesitate the minute I would utter so much a negative peep. “I’ll be fine, love. I trust you. We’ll be fine.” We have to be, dammit. No matter what.
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His legs around me surprise me and I moan at the contact, and at how much he needs to be closer. After I kiss his forehead, I flex my hips a little, nudging him out of that comfort zone. Obviously, we're naked and sex seems like a given, but the emotional part was hard for him and I'm not sure how he's going to react as it turns sexual.
I smile back at how easily he reads my thoughts. That's exactly what I wanted to say. He's really catching on to what I hold back. I have got to be the luckiest vampire...and we *are* going to be fine.
Feeling more sure of him and myself, I rub my hands along the thighs wrapped around my waist. I ease them off, missing the contact, but he's got to trust me to make this work. I do keep my body close so he doesn't feel like I'm far away, though. "Let me." Let me show you, Let me love you. "Just feel. Try not to talk." That could go either way on making him feel more secure. I know sometimes it helps to babble, but this way he can't protest or worry that he'll say the wrong thing.
I move back up to his neck, biting his ear playfully. "I love how you hear what I want to say, even when I can't say it." I nibble along his jaw, rubbing my skin against the beginnings of stubble there. "I love how strong you are underneath everything." My survivor. Angelus would love to break him. Really break him. I move down to his neck, smelling his scent, his blood, and I feel him open his neck to me. "And I love how willing you are to please me. Gets me hot when you do that, Wes." I tell him other things I love as I kiss across his shoulders, and bite his biceps that are taut and tense.
I know it's hard for him to hear these things, even though they're good things. Sometimes it hurts more to hear the good things because you want so badly to believe them. I stop talking for a little while as I lick and kiss across his chest. Slowly, I suck one of his nipples into my mouth, and involuntarily grind against him. This is getting me hotter than I thought, I really wasn't paying attention to my own reactions. "Do you...have anything...for lube?" I ask between my attentions.
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His smile though, at my words, make me feel a bit more at ease. Not much, there’s no chance in hell I can forget my current position, but it’s still something. Of course then Angel moves his hands to my tights and I can feel a tremble going through me at the touch. My back twinges a little, mostly because of the awkward position I’ve moved myself in, but I can once again easily ignore it. I need my concentration on something else now. Must keep that tiny bit of control I’ve left.
Except, he moves my legs down and that small feeling of panic comes back. I push it down, focusing on his face. Watching his lips move, trying to hear the words. Let him. Let him what? Do this, I already was letting him do this. Even though I’m not entirely certain what exactly ‘this’ is. He seems to know though and that’s what I cling onto or else I’d be completely lost. Then he starts to move and I'm trembling again. Lips moving over my skin, words whispering and hammering at the walls I’ve put up around me. I feel defenseless, as though him tying me down left me without my armor.
I’ve nowhere to go, now where to hide. All I can do is…let him. I close my eyes and tilt my head again, swallowing hard. Don’t talk, he’s said, just feel. But it’s hard not to talk, because the words of protest are ready to spill out of my mouth. I’m not what he tells me, he seems to believe otherwise though. My throat is closing up again, making breathing even harder. It’s about the same time I realize how terribly arousing this is. And once again I’m floored by the realization. Angel seems to be teaching me new things the entire time, making me feel humbled.
My body arches into his touches without much thought from me, especially when he comes close to my throat. I’m panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering my body as I try my best to obey his words. Don’t talk. Just feel. “I’m not,” rushes out anyway at his words of praise, though barely audible through my ragged breaths. Moaning at the feeling of his lips, his teeth, his tongue, I close my eyes again and try to…just feel. What? Lube? I blink at him, letting those words sink in before I catch their meaning. “Oh, Uh….soap?” But the bathroom is so far, far away suddenly. Don't leave me. "M-maybe in the nightstand?"
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"Beautiful." I say reverently, returning to my place between his thighs. I lay the lotion next to him, not quite ready for it, but I wanted to have it before things got carried away...more. I return to kissing his chest, each rib, dipping my tongue into his belly button. "You are so beautiful, Wes. I want to draw you sometime." Show you all these beautiful muscles, this skin, your eyes darkening with lust, lips parted and chest heaving for breath.
"You think you're not strong," I heard that protest, that belief he couldn't keep hidden "but...I've seen you, I know you. Better than all those people who said otherwise." I stroke his arms, his sides as I return to a nipple. "Trust me, not them." I tug on one with my teeth and suck until it's small and hard between my lips. Groaning, I let go. "Strong and beautiful. This stomach, your long legs, this," I whisper as my hand wraps around his cock. "Those eyes I can't seem to tear myself away from."
I stroke him lightly, until he's truly hard. "Let go, Wes." Don't listen to those voices. Listen to *me* "I've got you. I want to please you. Let me see what I do to you. Let go." I let go to stroke along the inside of his thighs, feeling the heat there, spreading my hands in that warmth. Grabbing the lotion, I spread a little quickly over my fingers. I tease his entrance, drawing his attention to my hand. "Stop doubting yourself. Feel." My finger stills over his opening, pressing lightly, but not bridging that barrier yet. "I've got control, I'll catch you. ...You can't fail me." I say as I slip one finger inside him finally.
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It doesn’t matter, since I’ve only eyes for him. He’s kissing my skin again, my body and I want to protest each word he says. But the words forming in my mind, don’t make much sense, let alone the fact that I’ve no idea if I actually can speak. Don’t talk, just feel. My breath is coming with short, sharp gasps now, sucking in my breath everytime his tongue touches me, his lips, his hands. Angel. His, I’m his and his touch is marking me, burning me. Drawing me…. Drawing me? I frown and look at him confused at that. Why’d he want to draw me? Does he expect me to answer him?
But he’s still busy, his mouth is still moving, and my brain has apparently kicked in again. Worthless. Look at you. You had a choice, and you still allowed yourself to be tied down. Pathetic. And then there are Angel’s words, washing over me like heavens tongue. Lapping at me to believe. It’s hard, it’s so very difficult to believe Angel and so very, very easy to believe….the others. Them. Him. Squeezing my eyes shut, my head tosses from side to side to drown out the voices and do as he said. Just feel.
Oh god! I certainly felt that. A stab of pain shoots through my back as my hips arch up into his hand. Listen to him, not to the voices. As if you can hide from the truth. You’re still what you were. Spreading them wide without complaint, because you know you’re a weakling. Wider! Pryce, wider! Let it go, Angel whispers. But I can’t, I can’t seem to let go, I’m hanging on by the fingernails, barely. A cry that may have been a sob pushes past my lips when one finger slips inside me.
“Angel,” I whisper with a trembling voice. Shut them up, please, please shut them up. “Kiss me, please." Shut off my brain, make me stop thinking. Now. I need you, I want you, I trust you. Please, catch me.
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His whisper breaks through my focus like a stake. I slide my finger lose in an instant, even the thought of hurting him or making him panic doesn't make me change my mind. He needs hands on him, hands that he can't use. I should let him go.
It's less than a moment before I'm kissing him my hands splaying across his cheek, fingers in his hair. I'm here, I'm here. I've got you. Did I go to far? Was it too much? Obviously it was too much...but it was also not enough. I didn't get it right. But I told him I would be here and I am. I'm here to keep him safe.
"Mine," I murmur between desperate kisses. I kiss him over and over until the trembling slows. His voice was so desperate... I don't know what those demons are chasing at his heels, but I want them gone now. He's mine. I feel a growl rising at the thought. Fighting the urge to untie him and cradle him in my arms, I try to find some more words that will make some sense to him.
"Whoever's hurt you, you don't belong to them. You're mine." That last word is a growl. "They don't know you. They don't know the man who keeps me safe. Who keeps fighting even when he knows he's sending people to die. They don't know the man who saw the good in something that has been evil far longer than good, and still trusts in that goodness. ...They don't love you." I whisper, swallowing hard, my dead heart aching.
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It takes quite a while for the trembling to stop and the voices to quiet down. They’re not gone yet, but they’ve been silenced once again. And once more it was Angel who managed to do that. Swallowing hard, I look at him, eyes searching his desperately. His words hit me like a hammer, there’s another sob trying to get out of me. My control is slipping and slipping fast. He’s all I have to hold onto, the only one left to make me feel safe. Straining my arms to wrap them around him only makes me realized that I’m tied up, at his mercy.
I’m his and he’s mine. But I’m his, that’s more important. He can never fully be mine, but I’m his. I’m trembling again at his words, his touches, but this time it’s because I’m trying to keep the emotions to keep from bursting out. I don’t want to scare Angel off, but he’s very persistent that I do let go. The problem is that I’ve no idea how, I’ve never done that before. Never needed to, never wanted to. You’re safe. Angel will be there, he’ll never hurt you. Never let anyone hurt you again. I want to, I want to so desperately.
Parting my lips, I take a shuddering breath as he keeps on talking. “Yours,” I whisper, and that was a mistake. The moment one tiny sound gets past my throat, it’s as though a dam breaks. Oh god, don’t tell me I’m crying. No, no, no, not that, anything but that. It’ll scare Angel, it’ll frighten him away. Taking a deep breath, I try to swallow it down, quite annoyed about the fact that I can’t wipe my face. It’s vulnerable and quite open for Angel to read. Which was what he wanted, I suddenly realize. Another deep breath, I allow my eyes to meet his again, and even though I’m scared, I let him read everything there is to read. Giving myself over to him….hoping that my trust it answered.
“I love you,” I manage to get out.
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