Meet me in the Alley - AtS, Cordelia/Angel, NC-17
Fandom: Angel, the Series
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia
Rating: So very NC-17
Summary: Alley sex
*cross posted to AO3*
The smell of the alley was strong, part rotted food, part urine, part melted blacktop. She crinkled her nose and stepped over a cardboard box filled with wilted and rotting lettuce. The note had been cryptic, but clear. Cordelia had followed it carefully, though she was having second thoughts. The alley deepened, and she hesitated just before stepping across the threshold that marked the sunny side of LA from the shadows.
His hand closed around her wrist and pulled her to him, his other hand covering her mouth to stifle her surprise. Before she could speak, he pushed her against the wall, his face in her hair. She pushed back, his cock rubbing against her ass. He hissed into her ear, his hand snaking down her belly and over her thighs to pull the skirt up. His nails made contact with the skin of her thigh, and she gasped, her hand fluttering to the spot, but his hand was gone.
He turned her, pressed her back into the wall. His hands wandered up under her shirt, caressing, then squeezing her breasts. His knee held her to the spot, pushed up between her legs, pressing against her. She reached for him, but his hands caught hers before they found flesh and he held them out to her sides while he kissed her. It was deep, his tongue sweeping the back of her mouth as he pressed her harder into the wall.
He pressed her arms up over her head and held them there in one large hand. His other returned to her breast while his lips bruised her neck. His knee rocked against her, pushing against her clit, then away. She moaned, turning her head so he could reach the spot that drove her crazy. Out there, in the sun, people passed, never even glancing into the alley. They were only just inside the shadows, but no one would see them.
His hand moved down, bunching up her skirt even more and sliding one finger between his knee and her already damp lips. She gasped as the rough skin glazed her clit and tried to move to get more of him. He growled and moved his hand away, pushing up with his knee. She felt her feet leave the ground, felt his knee grinding into her and wanted to rock to get the pressure right against her clit.
He kissed her again, hungry, bruising, his tongue lapping at her lips as she heard the sound of a zipper. In almost a single movement his knee left her and his cock entered her, deep and full in one stroke. She breathed out his name as he pulled out and slammed back in, banging her against the filthy wall. Her legs wrapped around him. Her breath came in short, ragged rhythm, syncopated against the sound of their flesh colliding. His hands came to her hips, pressing her downward to meet each stroke.
The smell of sex was stronger now than the smell of the alley and she was sure they could be heard on the street as he grunted and she groaned and their bodies ground together. Her hands found purchase in his hair as his movements slowed to enjoy to friction, drawing out the act…She closed her eyes to the dirt and trash, concentrating on the pleasant fire building in her stomach. His face was cool where it touched her cheek, his lips on her ear, then sliding down…yes…his tongue pressed against it, the curve just above her collarbone. “Oh God,” she whispered as he slammed into her, his cock driving in deep, her back against the wall, and that spot in his teeth. She shuddered as she came, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Her hands dropped to her side, and it was little more than his cock pistoning in and out of her that kept her balanced.
His moaning turned guttural, his hands pressed against the wall while his hips ground into her. She caught her breath as he looked into her eyes, hungry, predatory. There was blood on his lip. She leaned forward to kiss it off and he came inside of her, falling against her as the spasm passed.
Cordelia was still panting when he pulled out and let her slide down the wall. She heard his zipper, felt his hand brush over her head. He dropped a piece of paper in her lap and faded into the dark of the alley.
“Midnight, the park on 8th. Wear something red.”
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia
Rating: So very NC-17
Summary: Alley sex
*cross posted to AO3*
The smell of the alley was strong, part rotted food, part urine, part melted blacktop. She crinkled her nose and stepped over a cardboard box filled with wilted and rotting lettuce. The note had been cryptic, but clear. Cordelia had followed it carefully, though she was having second thoughts. The alley deepened, and she hesitated just before stepping across the threshold that marked the sunny side of LA from the shadows.
His hand closed around her wrist and pulled her to him, his other hand covering her mouth to stifle her surprise. Before she could speak, he pushed her against the wall, his face in her hair. She pushed back, his cock rubbing against her ass. He hissed into her ear, his hand snaking down her belly and over her thighs to pull the skirt up. His nails made contact with the skin of her thigh, and she gasped, her hand fluttering to the spot, but his hand was gone.
He turned her, pressed her back into the wall. His hands wandered up under her shirt, caressing, then squeezing her breasts. His knee held her to the spot, pushed up between her legs, pressing against her. She reached for him, but his hands caught hers before they found flesh and he held them out to her sides while he kissed her. It was deep, his tongue sweeping the back of her mouth as he pressed her harder into the wall.
He pressed her arms up over her head and held them there in one large hand. His other returned to her breast while his lips bruised her neck. His knee rocked against her, pushing against her clit, then away. She moaned, turning her head so he could reach the spot that drove her crazy. Out there, in the sun, people passed, never even glancing into the alley. They were only just inside the shadows, but no one would see them.
His hand moved down, bunching up her skirt even more and sliding one finger between his knee and her already damp lips. She gasped as the rough skin glazed her clit and tried to move to get more of him. He growled and moved his hand away, pushing up with his knee. She felt her feet leave the ground, felt his knee grinding into her and wanted to rock to get the pressure right against her clit.
He kissed her again, hungry, bruising, his tongue lapping at her lips as she heard the sound of a zipper. In almost a single movement his knee left her and his cock entered her, deep and full in one stroke. She breathed out his name as he pulled out and slammed back in, banging her against the filthy wall. Her legs wrapped around him. Her breath came in short, ragged rhythm, syncopated against the sound of their flesh colliding. His hands came to her hips, pressing her downward to meet each stroke.
The smell of sex was stronger now than the smell of the alley and she was sure they could be heard on the street as he grunted and she groaned and their bodies ground together. Her hands found purchase in his hair as his movements slowed to enjoy to friction, drawing out the act…She closed her eyes to the dirt and trash, concentrating on the pleasant fire building in her stomach. His face was cool where it touched her cheek, his lips on her ear, then sliding down…yes…his tongue pressed against it, the curve just above her collarbone. “Oh God,” she whispered as he slammed into her, his cock driving in deep, her back against the wall, and that spot in his teeth. She shuddered as she came, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Her hands dropped to her side, and it was little more than his cock pistoning in and out of her that kept her balanced.
His moaning turned guttural, his hands pressed against the wall while his hips ground into her. She caught her breath as he looked into her eyes, hungry, predatory. There was blood on his lip. She leaned forward to kiss it off and he came inside of her, falling against her as the spasm passed.
Cordelia was still panting when he pulled out and let her slide down the wall. She heard his zipper, felt his hand brush over her head. He dropped a piece of paper in her lap and faded into the dark of the alley.
“Midnight, the park on 8th. Wear something red.”