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Punishment	By : QueenB Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Wesley > Angel(us)/Wesley Views: 6147 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Punishment
- 1
Email: queenboadiceaoftheiceni@yahoo.com
Spoiler Warning: Spoilers for AtS season four episode “Cavalry”
Disclaimer: This belongs to the great and powerful Joss and the usual gang of idi…uh, geniuses
Pairings: Angelus/Wesley
Feedback: Do your worst--it can’t compare to my worst ;)
Warning: This contains bondage, m/m slash, nonconsensual sex and bloodplay.
Thoughts are shown in italics.

“He doubled back.” That’s what Connor says and the boy’s sense of smell is unerring. Idly Wesley wonders if that’s mere training on Holtz’s part or whether the teen comes by it naturally.
He’s human but his strength is beyond that of any normal human. Gunn mentioned that he once leapt off a six-story building and walked away. He is the product of a union between two vampires. That probably accounts for it. The strangely calm thoughts run through his mind and then he ruthlessly pushes them to the background. The mysteries of Connor’s abilities aren’t important now.
Wesley knows what he’s trying to avoid thinking. He’s screwed up--again. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Not that he’ll admit that in front of the others, especially Gunn. He messed up an important prophecy and got Connor abducted. He’d thought it was all for the best. He’d wanted to explain that to the others. But they wouldn’t listen. Instead they just turned on him, one and all.
That wounded him more than he let on. He was driven from them and his sense of purpose--right into the arms of Lilah Morgan. Part of him hates them for their lack of forgiveness. But another, larger, part knows he has only himself to blame.
He should have consulted with the others. He should have trusted Angel. Angel would never kill his son. Even when Connor came back from the Quortorth, bitter and filled with loathing for his own father, Angel would never kill him.
That makes two major prophecies he’s misinterpreted. And, thanks to his latest bright idea, Angelus is unleashed and on the loose. He will kill Cordelia and Lilah. Intimately familiar as he is with Angelus’s pattern, however, Wesley knows he’ll probably torture them first. That will buy them some time. But Angelus has a 100-odd-room hotel to hide in…
They stand in the Hyperion lobby watching Connor as he sniffs around the area. “His scent’s all over the place. I can’t tell which trail is fresher than any other,” the teenager mutters in frustration.
Wesley speaks in a low, even voice. Since Angelus’s return he has resumed his role as leader and hopes his calm demeanor will steady the others…unless his most recent errors have damaged him irretrievably in their eyes. “Right. Then we split up. Gunn, you’re with me. Connor, you should go with Fred. Take the lower areas. There’s lots more corners for Angelus to hide in and you have the best chance of sensing him before he can strike.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Gunn replies without looking in Fred’s direction.
The brunette Texan starts forward. “Wait! Shouldn’t we all stay together?”
“We’ve got too much ground to cover, Fred--” Wesley starts.
“Well, why can’t I be with Gunn? W-we kinda know each other’s moves.”
“Bad idea. Angelus already tole us what he’d like to do to you. And I ain’t too proud to say that Connor’s got a better chance of beating down his ass if he runs into the two of you than Wesley and me would. Connor’ll take care of you.” The black man hefts his axe and walks to stand beside Wesley.
Wesley feels a small pang of jealousy as Fred looks unhappily at her former lover. Gunn may have broken up with her but that doesn’t mean she’s turned off her own feelings so quickly. She bites her lower lip as if she means to argue then she turns without another word to follow Connor. Wesley watches her for a moment before he turns to Gunn.
They stand in a tense uncomfortable silence for a second before Gunn decides to speak. “So which way you think he may have gone? I mean, you being such an expert on him and all.”
“Cordelia will probably be his first choice. Angelus might be ambivalent in his feelings towards Lilah Morgan--she was an adversary for a long time but also a possible ally if Wolfram & Hart had ever really managed to get him on their side. But Angel’s recently developed feelings for Cordelia. Angelus might take her first simply to display his dominance over Connor.”
“I hear that. Men can get real nasty when they know some other guy’s trying to muscle in on their women folk.” The ex-Watcher doesn’t miss the underlying bitterness to that comment but chooses not to call Gunn on it. Angelus has already managed to play them against each other once. The Englishman is determined not to fall into trap again. There are too many lives at risk.
Gunn halts for a moment and Wesley pauses with him, raking his eyes around the immediate area. “What is it? Did you see something?” They are on the second floor and so far have encountered nothing, a situation that is beginning to strain Wesley’s nerves.
“No, I just thought of something. Angel might not hurt his kid, but Angelus might. And if he’s got so much reason to hate him like you say then he might just kill the boy and then take Fred.”
Wesley hasn’t considered this possibility. “Gunn, I understand your concern. But Connor would be in danger no matter what arrangement we’d settled on. You were right about him; he’ll be a far better protector for Fred than either of us could ever be.”
“Maybe. But putting her with him might make her a target. Angelus’d get two people he wanted in one spot. Two birds and all that.”
“We should keep quiet from now on.” Wesley doesn’t want to argue the point. In spite of his own growing misgivings, he still thinks Connor is the best bodyguard for Fred. Connor is a superb fighter and seems to know his father’s moves better than the rest of them. Fred is in good hands. In any case, he isn’t going to start second-guessing himself at this late date.
“Shit!” Gunn swears as he swats at his leg. He looks downwards and his eyes widen in shock. “Wesley, look out…” He gets no further as he slumps to the floor and Wesley sees a telltale stun dart sticking out of his thigh.
The ex-Watcher swivels, bringing up his gun. His instincts are screaming that he’s too late, he’s foolishly miscalculated Angelus’s moves, he will be too slow. The last thing he sees other than that eternally handsome aspect smirking at him is a fist flashing towards his face.
__________
Wesley comes to gradually, a mad throb all along his jaw. There is an all-too-brief moment of bewilderment before knowledge of his predicament comes crashing down on him. He is in a dark room lying face up on a soft surface--probably one of the hotel beds. He’s merely been attacked not drugged as Gunn has been. In the short time he’s been out, Angelus can’t have taken him anywhere else but the hotel. At least that’s what Wesley is desperately hoping.
He tries moving only to discover his hands are restrained over his head. A couple of experimental tugs and the rattle of metal tell him he is chained to the bed. His legs are similarly bound, spread-eagled to the lower bedposts. There’s tape over his mouth; efforts to speak produce only muffled sounds, too weak for anyone to hear him if they are too far away.
“I was wondering when you’d wake up.” The deceptively silken whisper comes from somewhere on his left and he freezes. It’s Angelus; there is no mistaking that caressing voice for anyone else. There is a long drawn-out sniff and he continues, purring in satisfaction.
“Fear. Always a delicious smell. I prefer it on warriors and fighters. It adds a kind of spice. It’s not so good on children and women, though…tends to spoil their sweetness.”
The voice ceases and Wesley strains his ears, trying to ascertain exactly where the soulless demon is. The pitch-blackness of the room is unnerving and the utter lack of sound from the outside means they must be fairly high up, far away from the street. He nearly jumps out of his skin as the mattress dips down slightly; Angelus has come to rest on the bed beside him. A cool hand clasps his knee and begins idly stroking him up and down his leg.
“Man, you’ve really put on some muscle tone since you left us. You’ve gotten so strong and your body’s so…firm.” The hand leaves his leg and brushes its knuckles over his stomach and across his chest. With the traveling of that hand, Wesley comes to the realization that he is naked.
The fingers expertly twist and pull at his nipples and Wesley gargles behind his gag in protest. His eyes open wide as he tries in vain to see something, anything, of his captor. Angelus’s body presses close and he sags in relief when he realizes the vampire is still clothed. Maybe this isn’t going to be what he first thought…
But the hand is manipulating his left nipple and the Englishman is finding it hard-put not to respond. Don’t give him the satisfaction of… Just hold on and wait for the others to find you. Connor and Fred should be here soon.
“Don’t count on the cavalry charging over the hill,” Angelus drawls. “Gunn’s down for the count and I locked him in one of these rooms. He’ll be out for quite a while. I managed to tag Connor and Fred, too. Boy’s got some moves, I’ll give him that. But he’s no match for his old man.”
Angelus picks up on his fear. “Don’t worry. They’re not dead--yet. I’ve got them locked in that cage you so handily provided for me. I wish I could have taken you there. Maybe I might if you play your cards right.”
The bed shifts again as the weight is removed and Wesley tries tugging once more at his cuffs. He can’t help but wonder where Angelus is and what he’s doing. That’s part of the torture, he knows--that he worry himself frantic as to what his tormentor will do next. There is a soft sighing of cloth against skin and then…
There’s once more a dip of the mattress and a frigid body lies alongside his. The ex-Watcher’s heart speeds up in alarm as he realizes the vampire has stripped and he knows the fiend can hear it. A gentle kiss is pressed to his throat and there’s a deep inhalation of the tender skin between neck and shoulder.
“Mmmmmm. You smell good, Wes. Combination between your cologne and Lilah’s perfume. It’s a heady blend, let me tell you. You smell like a man and a woman. Fitting, I suppose.”
Her perfume? That can’t be. He washed himself thoroughly after his last sexual bout with Lilah; there shouldn’t be any residue. Of course, he hasn’t laundered his bedsheets lately. Yes, that’s probably it and the corner of his mind gibbering in panic is telling him that thinking about bed linen isn’t going to intricate him from his current dilemma.
“Honestly, Wes, I’m wondering why you chose Lilah over me. If you wanted to bed a ruthless, cold-hearted monster, you could have just asked me.”
No, Wesley doesn’t want to have sex with Angelus. At the automatic denial, the memory of those smoldering dark brown eyes, the cropped brunette hair and muscular body rises up to taunt him. Against his will, his cock begins to stir lazily.
If Angelus senses it, he says nothing. The knowing hand slips down his chest and runs idly from his breastbone to his stomach. A swath of goosebumps is left in its wake and Wesley bites back a moan as his belly flutters under those long digits. The tapered fingers caress his skin in thorough sweeps as if the vampire seeks to memorize the contours of his body through touch alone.
The mouth is trailing downwards as well. The cool lips run along then catch the skin of his upper chest playfully between still-blunt teeth. The tongue comes out and darts in fleeting licks against one nipple and the sensation elicits a muffled gasp. He can still recall the warmth of Lilah’s body. This icy touch should repulse him. But he knows his nipple has crinkled with that probing tongue. He’s well aware of the responses of his own body and he unconsciously arches upward to press closer to the source of his excitement.
The hardening left nub is tweaked but the tender mouth has removed itself. Suddenly it comes back and bites him hard enough on his other nipple to hurt though it doesn’t break the skin. Wesley lets out a muffled yelp at the unexpected pain. But his dick immediately goes rigid, curving along his belly.
“Ooh, you like that, don’t you? You and Lilah ever got into the really kinky stuff, Wes? I’m betting she did; she looks like the type. I could see the signs of handcuffs on your wrists, you know. I’ve learned to recognize them in my long existence. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? If that’s what you wanted, you definitely should have come to me. Two centuries of experience means I’ve forgotten things that Lilah bitch hasn’t learned yet.”
Those lips course a path downwards. Wesley’s eyes flutter shut as he loses himself in the passage of that coolness like an ice cube tracing mystical patterns on his flesh. Trying to see is a futile effort, anyway. The whole affair possesses an air of unreality so that Wesley wonders if he isn’t experiencing some drug-induced hallucination.
The idea vanishes at once as a hand slaps at his cock. He jerks and whimpers before he can stop himself.
The voice resumes, floating eerily in the darkness. “Pay attention, Wes. I want you to remember every detail of what’s happening to you. This isn’t just about pleasure. It’s about payback. You stole my son. He’s an arrogant little snot, but, hey, he just takes after his old man. He is still mine and you shouldn’t have taken him.”
Stern menace has entered that voice but Wesley feels no fear. If Angelus wants to hurt and punish him, so be it. That means he isn’t going to die, not anytime soon. Besides, by the way the hand is tweaking and yanking his pubic hairs, the demon has something else in mind.
The fingers play with the coarse curls and glide around his trembling hips without actually touching the source of his tension. The sensitive skin on his thighs is caressed in teasing circles. When nails are added, Wesley’s legs shake with increased desire. Then a hand encircles his cock and long, steady strokes begin making their way up and down his shaft.
The voice returns, lazy admiration coloring its tones. “Nice length. I can see why Lilah kept coming back for more. Of course, that doesn’t mean so much to me as I’m going to be the one doing the fucking.”
Wesley can’t frame any coherent response to that even if he weren’t gagged. Of course, he knows what Angelus intends for him. But to hear it out loud is something else and a rush of hunger seizes him.
Then the vampire rolls on top of him and Wesley freezes again. There is a substantial, heavy weight resting against his leg and the feel of it suggests… Oh god, it can’t be true. Something that size isn’t possible. He curses the darkness and wishes he could see what he is sensing. Then again, he isn’t sure he wants to.
Angelus laughs, the rich deep sound buzzing along Wesley’s nerves like a mild electrical current. The vampire rocks his hips lazily so that his length rubs against Wesley’s own. In spite of his overwhelming terror, his cock stiffens again and he undulates on the bed as that imposing body shifts unceasingly over his.
The cockheads bump and brush each other as Angelus maintains his steady rhythm. His hand sweeps again and again across Wesley’s chest, bringing the flat nubs back to life. All the while, that sultry voice pours into his ear.
“When you were in the Council, you spent so much time researching my past. That’s a little obsessive, even for an anal-retentive Watcher like you used to be. I can’t help thinking there must have been something else going on, Wes.” The full hips jerk faster and the ex-Watcher’s breath wheezes out through his nose. He isn’t getting enough air and he’s starting to experience a lightheadedness to accompany his arousal.
“How long have you wanted me, Wesley? Was it when you came out of the darkness clad in leather like me? Was it when I called you Doyle without meaning to? Or was it even earlier, when I was still with Buffy? I could feel your eyes on me sometimes, looking me over, appraising me. Were you assessing whether I was a threat to the Slayer? Or did you picture yourself like this, stretched out under me, your naked flesh pressed against my own? Did you fantasize about your body locked in my arms while my cock split you in half, ramming you so far up the ass you’d be limping for days?”
He wants to choke out his agreement to those whispered statements. Yet part of him still rebels, grimly resolved not to give Angelus the satisfaction of his capitulation. But how can he deny what he feels when his treacherous body is so determined to give him away? Yes, he’d had a crush on the vampire dating back from their days in Sunnydale. He’d thought it a well-hidden secret. Apparently not.
He considers his infatuation with Cordelia, the empty hate- and lust-filled sessions with Lilah Morgan, his tender feelings for Fred. A medley of dark hair and eyes--so like Angel’s. In time, he might have transferred his frustrated longing to Groossalug if the muscular Pylean giant had stayed at A.I. long enough.
The grinding stops and Wesley squeaks angrily. He hasn’t cum yet and his cock is so engorged it hurts. Angelus’s answering laugh barely cuts the air. Then his mouth presses against the weeping head. The tongue curls over the crown, jabbing the little slit. It laps along the throbbing vein under the shaft, then runs around the corona. His balls are being handled, nails tracing the convoluted wrinkles as the testicles are rolled and squeezed alternately in a manner both critical and caressing.
Wesley’s moans are uninhibited now, as are his heaving motions on the bed. He can’t move much with his arms and legs bound but he does what he can. He thrusts up into an invisible cool space as all his attention narrows down to one small point. The mouth disappears and several vicious slaps are given to his upright member. The sensitive skin stings with each blow and Wesley grits his teeth to prevent his cries from escaping. But somehow his erection doesn’t disappear. If anything, it increases until he thinks he’ll pass out from the ache.
Then that skillful maw engulfs the head again and takes him all the way to the base. Angelus’s head bobs up and down languidly as his tongue slides along the pulsing veins. It is as if his cock is being swallowed in a long cold tunnel. The demon swallows and Wesley can feel the tip nudging the back of the throat and then sucked down even farther. Lilah had never been able to take him this far.
He doesn’t need to…breathe…that’s why… The vampire’s throat flutters and seals itself around him again and Wesley abandons the urge to think.
The ex-Watcher lets out a garbled scream as a sudden twinge blooms along his length. When the sucking noises change slightly to a wet slurping, he realizes what has happened. The demon has bitten or nicked him with one of his fangs and now blood is being drawn. There is pain, yes, but the thin line between discomfort and pleasure is fast blurring. Lilah has trained him to associate the two; in a bizarre way, it is as if she readied him for Angelus.
He closes his eyes and concentrates on the tension coiling between his thighs. He’s so close, so close…he can feel it. A moment more--
And the mouth withdraws. He moans in disappointment and twists futilely in his bonds. The fingers resume stroking but now the motion is brisker, almost businesslike. They gather up pre-cum and blood and he shivers when the first finger pushes against his anus.
He is being prepared. That huge cock he hasn’t seen yet is going to be forced inside. Now that the moment is at hand, dread rises up to choke him again. God, it’s never going to fit. Angelus is going to rip him in two.
Still, Buffy was able to endure it and the vampire towers over her. She’s even smaller than Wesley. But he is certain that Angel took care to keep it from hurting. He doesn’t think Angelus will show him the same consideration.
Without warning, the tape is yanked loose. He gasps at the sting and opens his mouth to yell. A solid hand clamps itself over his mouth while a low warning is given. “One scream for help, Wes, and I’ll fuck you dry. Besides, do you really want the others to catch you in bed with me like this?”
Wesley moans against his hand as the intruding finger becomes two. They hook and his entire body goes rigid as a certain spot within him is touched. It’s like another shock to the nerves and, when the pressure becomes relentless, he clenches his buttocks together to trap those fingers.
Angelus chuckles and the stifling hand is withdrawn. Before Wesley can speak, firm lips unerringly find their target in the dark. The tepid lips pull at his upper and lower ones and Angelus growls, the strumming causing Wesley’s mouth to vibrate. The vampire bites at his mouth and the moist tongue flicks all along the skin.
Wesley can’t lock the other man out of his body perhaps, but he isn’t going to kiss him. A kiss has an odd kind of intimacy that he isn’t prepared to give. He can dismiss the imminent invasion of his body. He’s tied up. What happens is out of his control. But he’ll be damned if he’ll surrender his will entirely.
But the demon has other ideas. The fingers increase to three and they press upward in Wesley’s passage, causing the lean hips to tilt up. Another twist of the fingers and Wesley gasps, taking aback by the sudden exhilaration. Taking advantage of the unguarded space, the large tongue sweeps into his mouth before he can prevent it.
It plunges within, sweeping in delicate arcs across the palate, teasing his own tongue. Before Wesley can respond, the nimble bit of muscle is gone. He moves his head up to recapture those lips and mentally curses himself when he hears the vamp snicker. “Easy, Wes. We’ve got a while yet. No need to rush.”
The lips course over his chin again and he stiffens as his jugular is brushed. Does Angelus mean to bite him? His pulse jumps under those lips and he feels them part over his skin. His heart is racing--whether in fear or desire he isn’t sure. He arches his head back, exposing his throat, as he waits breathlessly for the fangs to sink into his flesh.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not going to bite you on the neck. I’m not willing to claim you as my mate. That title belongs to another. Maybe after I finish with you, I’ll go pay her a call.”
He means Buffy. Even as Angelus the petite Slayer isn’t far from his thoughts. There’s a sting of--what? Hurt pride? Disappointment? Jealousy? Ridiculous. But his thoughts are dragged out of his unhappy confusion as the mouth fastens on his nipple again.
A broad flat tongue brushes across the peak and it awakens once more. The teeth pull at the nipple, worrying it until an ache blooms in the small point. “What sweet nubs you’ve got. Makes me want to bite them off and roll them on my tongue.”
He’s hard again. His erection never really left but any flagging vanishes at the images running through his mind. There is now a fist pumping steadily within his body--when did that happen? He knows how large the vampire’s hands are and there is that sensation of almost-pain-nearing-pleasure as he’s stretched to the bursting point. The hand buried in him up to the wrist pushes his hips up with every thrust so that his erection plops against his belly with a constant slapping sound.
Short, harsh pants are rising out of him. In spite of the fact that his cock is no longer being touched, he is going to cum soon. He recognizes the small changes in his body that signal the upcoming climax. But Angelus senses them as well. The movements of his hand stop and he carefully removes it one finger at a time from the hot passage.
“N-no.” The tremulous protest flies from his lips before Wes can think. Does Angelus mean to leave him in agony all night? He can feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.
“What was that, Wes? I didn’t quite catch that.” He can hear the taunting underneath the voice. Damn him, the sadistic bastard. Angelus continues in a musing tone as if trying to figure out something. “Is that a ‘no’ you want me to stop? Because I don’t think I will.” He draws one cool finger up the pulsing flesh against Wesley’s belly and the ex-Watcher whimpers at the renewed contact.
“Or is it ‘no’ you don’t want me to stop? Help me out here, Wes.” A nail--or is it a fang?--is drawn across the sensitive tip and Wesley grinds his head into the pillow, biting the cloth to keep from screaming.
When he recovers his breath, he whispers, “I-I want to cum.” There, that states his wish without making it a plea to the monster.
“Me too.” Without another word, Angelus thrusts himself up to the hilt in Wesley’s waiting passage.
It hurts. It hurts more than he could have imagined. In spite of being well greased, the sheer size of it makes him feel as if he’s being torn apart. He instinctively squeezes against the assault but this only adds to the raw agony. He gives a wail of pain before his cry is muffled by Angelus’s mouth.
This kiss is demanding, as punishing as the cock lancing his ass. The bold tongue curves along his teeth and trades short forays with his own. The demon’s mouth draws away to let him breathe and returns in quick hit-and-run attacks. Wesley concentrates fiercely on the kiss; it is almost enough to make him forget the thick rod spearing his insides. Almost.
Angelus sets a savage pace and his teeth capture the Englishman’s every groan. Wesley doesn’t think he can survive the ferocious shagging the bloodsucker appears willing to subject him to. Does the demon mean to fuck him to death?
But the pain is easing somewhat. In fact, it’s starting to feel rather good. It fades away slightly, leaving a mild contrast to the definite tingling from within whenever his prostate is stroked. He twists his mouth away to gasp, “More! Harder, Angel, harder!”
A sharp smack across his face snaps him out of the cloud surrounding his senses. “It’s Angelus, Wesley. You’re not with my sappy souled half here. So don’t call me that again.”
Wesley’s frightened all over again but he can’t dwell for long on his mistake. Those big hands dig harshly into his shoulders so the bones creak with the distress. Then the violent thrusts are resumed. With each rocking motion, the cuffs bite into his wrists and ankles. There will be bruises, lasting for days. It’s even possible they’ll cut into his skin; will Angelus lick the blood off if they do?
He wants the demon to bite him. Blood combined with sex is an intrinsic part of the vampiric existence and he’s crushed that Angelus doesn’t see him as being worthy. Wesley’s subservient nature that never really left him even during his brief stint as the leader of A.I. surges to the fore. Here in the dark with the Master vampire, he wishes to yield himself where the others will never see, never know.
“Listen to me, Wesley. I don’t care if you cum or not. I don’t care if you leave this room satisfied or so hard you can’t sit down. You took my office from me.” This is punctuated with another brutal push. “You stole my son.” Thrust. “You dared lead the others after I came back to you.” Another push. “I want you to know who’s Master here, Wes.” He pauses after this as if waiting for an answer from the recumbent form pinned to the bed.
Wesley sobs softly at the cessation of movement. Angelus is perfectly capable of leaving him hovering on the brink, keeping him from the orgasm Wesley craves more than anything else in the world right now. “Yes. Y-you’re the Master. Please don’t stop. Not now.” Unvoiced pleas run through his mind. I need this. I need you. Anything you want. Just don’t leave me like this.
Angelus rotates his hips in a slow circle so his penis comes in contact with every spot in Wesley’s tight rectum. The man under him groans and concentrates on squeezing his ass around the fleshy cock. When a low-pitched grunt rumbles out of the massive chest, he knows a small sense of achievement. Maybe if he pleases Angelus enough, he will be allowed some relief.
The motions resume but this time they are unhurried, almost tender, and the abrupt shift confuses him. Everything Angelus has done has kept him disoriented and off balance. This isn’t fucking anymore. It’s almost like--lovemaking.
But it is too leisurely, not nearly fast enough, and tears run down his face. It feels as if he’s been erect for ages but he isn’t going to be able to cum. “Please.”
“Please what? Be specific, Wesley. I know the Watchers Council taught you better than that. Please what?”
“Harder.” The whisper barely carries and the vampire’s pace becomes even more deliberate.
“What? Speak up…tell me what you want.”
The ex-Watcher is suddenly furious. The denied arousal is causing his whole body to throb excruciatingly and he’s enraged at the demon that has done this to him. “Harder, dammit. I want it harder.”
“Be careful what you wish for.” The vampire begins murmuring but in a strange language Wesley doesn’t understand. The pace is picking up again as the cock plunges repeatedly into his body. A dark thrilling ripple runs through Wesley’s lean frame and he’s shaking again from the force of it. Angelus’s weighty balls are thudding against his ass and it’s almost as if he’s being beaten. He gives a choking gasp as one cold hand locks around his throat, restricting his breathing. He’s growing dizzy; the lack of oxygen combined with his hard-on is almost too much for him to stand.
The cold body that never gets any warmer pushes against his and withdraws in a never-ending cadence of desire and need. There is no sound in the unlit room save the Englishman’s wheezing breaths, the bizarre muttering in his ears and unceasing slap of skin. He is being helplessly drawn towards the finish like a fish on a line and he no longer cares.
All at once he wishes his hands were free so he can clutch the divine form to his own. Fucking Lilah had been partially about the sex but mostly a desperate attempt to feel close to someone again.
The withholding of physical connection is part of the torment; he realizes this. This parody of affection--wilder and more passionate than anything he experienced with the brunette bitch from Wolfram & Hart yet at the same time more remote--will ultimately leave him more desolate, degraded and lonely than when it began. Wesley is aware this is the purpose and yet he cannot help himself. The human soul within him longs too much for contact to wish this away or withhold his own desperate yearning.
The wide frame above him is acquiring a kind of tenseness and Angelus no longer speaks. He’s driving himself harder and faster, without holding back. Wesley digs his heels into the bed and slams his hips upward in a jarring meeting of hipbone against hipbone. Tremors of delight whip through his frame and he moans, offering himself to the monster. “Yes, Angelus, yes yes. Hurt me. I want it. I’m yours.”
There is a sonorous growl from the demon. A final thrust and the vampire shoots his load. Wesley sobs as his ass fills with cold seed. Angelus’s lust has been eased but he still hasn’t cum.
The hand releases his throat with a caress that is mocking in its gentleness. “You’re a good little fuck, Wes. Too good for only one go.” Before Wesley can think about what that means, there is a sharp crunch as Angelus bites through the skin above his left nipple.
A scream is torn from him, as much from surprise as actual pain. The vampire’s hips move against his once more. Wesley can’t believe it--how can Angelus be erect again so quickly? Is it from the bite? The lips close around the wound and Wesley trembles as the vampire suckles like a newborn child.
The blood seems to excite the demon as his fucking regains its frenzied edge. Angelus grabs the Englishman’s ass and forces him to match the vampire’s accelerated rhythm. He slams ever faster with a mindless violence as if he’s forgotten the frailty of the human form.
Sucks alternate with licks as the brunette vampire tries to force every drop of blood from the punctures. The pain has vanished again and turned to ecstasy as if there were a mysterious line connecting the pierced flesh on his chest to his throbbing cock. In the ex-Watcher’s delirium, it’s as if he were no longer mere human flesh.
His cries become a high mindless keening and he cums in powerful, violent spurts. The orgasm is prolonged beyond all expectation as his body thrashes in the vampire’s embrace. His ass squeezes around the vampire’s cock and Angelus cums again, his subterranean growls echoing through the Englishman’s flesh.
Wesley lies limply on the bed. He blinks tiredly as odd colors seem to bloom in the dimness. He is momentarily incapable of movement or speech although the demon continues to stir over him in languid shifts. The Englishman is distantly aware that the vampire is still sipping blood from him and he shudders in faint arousal as the tongue swirls around the acorn-tipped peak.
“Get off.” Wesley means to sound commanding, but the hoarseness in his voice makes the order seem more like begging.
The lips part from his bruised nipple to whisper briefly. “I thought I just did.” He makes no mention of Wesley’s orgasm as if what the ex-Watcher feels is of no consequence.
“No, I mean--you’re heavy. Move. Please.” The request comes out shyly and Wesley wants to kick himself for his meek tone.
A loud purr is his only answer. I didn’t know vampires purred. Watchers diaries don’t mention that. The thought slips through his mind, followed by others of no real consequence. He’s too weary in flesh and bone to hold onto anything. The vampire continues to feed from his tit and, to his consternation, Wesley can feel himself getting stiff again.
His hips start bobbing, trying to find relief, when the vampire pulls out of him and climbs off the bed. “Damn, that was pretty good, Wesley. Now I’ve had Slayer and Watcher blood. Can’t wait to tell Giles about that.”
Wesley can tell by the sounds that Angelus is getting dressed again. There is a small clinking noise and the ex-Watcher flinches as a small chilly object lands on his chest.
“There are the keys, Wes. I’m going to give the others the keys to their cage. They may have woken up by now. Maybe not. I’ll tell them where to find you. If you’re half as resourceful as you think you are, maybe you’ll have gotten out before they find you in this…compromising position. Either way, I’ll be long gone by the time you all get free. I’ve got things to do and people to visit.
“Don’t wait up for me, honey.”
The mocking voice ceases and Wesley hears the door open. There is a faint light from the hallway and the vampire is momentarily silhouetted in it. He leaves without looking back. Wesley lets his head drop back on the pillow as he struggles not to weep.

Finis
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Punishment