La Belle Epoque #2
Title: La Belle Epoque #2
For smut_69
Pairing: William/Angelus
Rating: Mature
Setting: Paris, 1889
Follow-up to La Belle Epoque #1
Prompt word: #67 Writer's choice - fantasy
Progress: 30/69
My Smut Table
La Belle Epoque #2
Make no mistake, he liked women. Liked to stalk them, torture them, fuck them, devour them. Soft and trembling, fierce and filthy-mouthed, they all held their own attractions, offered their own delights. But his women, here and now? One sullen and withdrawn, the other uttering strange portents of doom. He could cheerfully snap their dainty necks! But then he'd have Will's moods and whining to endure, so attached to the girls was he, which would defeat the object somewhat…
Fuck it, he wanted to have him! Have him to himself. Wanted to be back beneath the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, pinning Will to the metal, tearing at his fine clothes, savagely biting at his pretty, pale skin, pounding into him so hard and so fast, tearing him, making him howl, making him plead.
Hell, yes! Making him beg. Begging for more, for worse, for never-ending intense pain and pleasure. Clutching and clawing at his master even as he was driven to his knees, bloodied and semen-soaked. Broken and desperate. Promising him anything, everything, just for the mere possibility of one more touch, one more blow, one more…
Drusilla's prattling rudely shattered the exquisite fantasy, stilled the stirrings in his pants. Fucking stupid insensitive woman!
"I've seen things. Far away things. Bad things" she confided to William.
"The bad things can't hurt you, Dru. Not with me here."
Angelus gritted his teeth as Will wrapped a protective arm around the little idiot's waist, pulling her in close. Narrowed his eyes as Drusilla cast an anxious glance back towards him.
"Terrible things" she whispered.
Pathetic! Both Drusilla's ramblings and Will's tenderness. And if truth be told, his own jealousy.
"If you tell me about them I can drive them away" William soothed, pressing his lips to her prettily-scented hair as they walked.
Patience! It's what he was known for. Well, one of the many things for which he was famous, infamous. His fantasy would be made real, but not tonight. Probably not for many nights, weeks, months, or even years to come. But so be it. There would be plenty of enjoyment to be had, pleasure to be taken together and in each other, as he forged the bonds of loyalty and need, working towards his goal.
He and Will, they had all the time in the world afterall. Time steeped in mayhem and danger and unquenchable lust. And when that special time came, it would be even more satisfying, more beautiful than he could begin to imagine.
Angelus smiled, fists slowly unclenching, confident swagger returning to his walk.
A beautiful time indeed.
For smut_69
Pairing: William/Angelus
Rating: Mature
Setting: Paris, 1889
Follow-up to La Belle Epoque #1
Prompt word: #67 Writer's choice - fantasy
Progress: 30/69
My Smut Table
La Belle Epoque #2
Make no mistake, he liked women. Liked to stalk them, torture them, fuck them, devour them. Soft and trembling, fierce and filthy-mouthed, they all held their own attractions, offered their own delights. But his women, here and now? One sullen and withdrawn, the other uttering strange portents of doom. He could cheerfully snap their dainty necks! But then he'd have Will's moods and whining to endure, so attached to the girls was he, which would defeat the object somewhat…
Fuck it, he wanted to have him! Have him to himself. Wanted to be back beneath the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, pinning Will to the metal, tearing at his fine clothes, savagely biting at his pretty, pale skin, pounding into him so hard and so fast, tearing him, making him howl, making him plead.
Hell, yes! Making him beg. Begging for more, for worse, for never-ending intense pain and pleasure. Clutching and clawing at his master even as he was driven to his knees, bloodied and semen-soaked. Broken and desperate. Promising him anything, everything, just for the mere possibility of one more touch, one more blow, one more…
Drusilla's prattling rudely shattered the exquisite fantasy, stilled the stirrings in his pants. Fucking stupid insensitive woman!
"I've seen things. Far away things. Bad things" she confided to William.
"The bad things can't hurt you, Dru. Not with me here."
Angelus gritted his teeth as Will wrapped a protective arm around the little idiot's waist, pulling her in close. Narrowed his eyes as Drusilla cast an anxious glance back towards him.
"Terrible things" she whispered.
Pathetic! Both Drusilla's ramblings and Will's tenderness. And if truth be told, his own jealousy.
"If you tell me about them I can drive them away" William soothed, pressing his lips to her prettily-scented hair as they walked.
Patience! It's what he was known for. Well, one of the many things for which he was famous, infamous. His fantasy would be made real, but not tonight. Probably not for many nights, weeks, months, or even years to come. But so be it. There would be plenty of enjoyment to be had, pleasure to be taken together and in each other, as he forged the bonds of loyalty and need, working towards his goal.
He and Will, they had all the time in the world afterall. Time steeped in mayhem and danger and unquenchable lust. And when that special time came, it would be even more satisfying, more beautiful than he could begin to imagine.
Angelus smiled, fists slowly unclenching, confident swagger returning to his walk.
A beautiful time indeed.