A faint tickle on the back of her neck had her turning with a slight frown.



There he was, standing motionless beside one of the many fire trucks, his fathomless dark eyes focused on her. They simply stood there, looking at each other; her eyes begging him desperately not to go, his casually indifferent to her pain.



Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, more to keep herself from reaching out to him in need than for any warmth. Firemen scurried to and fro between them and plumes of smoke shifted like an eerie fog. With a quick, decisive move, Angel stepped back, slowly pivoted on his heel, and walked away without a backward glance.



She refused to cry. She wouldn’t beg. If she had nothing else left, she had her pride. That would be enough to get her home so that she could break down in private. She forced herself to watch him go, to watch him fade away into the smoke and disappear from her life.



After taking a few minutes to get herself under some sort of control, she turned to join her friends and Watcher. Before she could take a step, a thick cloth soaked with chloroform was slammed over her face. While she fought valiantly, the fumes were too strong for her and she slumped unconscious into the arms that waited for her.



In the blink of an eye, she was gone.



~*~*~



It was the music that woke her, finally. Sid Vicious at ear splitting levels was so not the best way to regain consciousness. Her head was pounding and she could barely breathe with her face mashed against the upholstery beneath her.



Upholstery… Okay first clue, Buffy. You’re in a car. She forced her eyes open only to be met with darkness. Blindfolded, then. When she bit down she could taste something really nasty on the gag between her teeth. Hoping she wasn’t attracting the attention of her anonymous captor, she wriggled her hands and feet. Whoa, girl. Don’t panic. You can bust these ropes, no problemo. Yay for slayer strength!



Only she couldn’t. No matter how much she flipped and flopped, it was no use. When she finally quit squirming she was on her back and panting like a winded horse, her helpless arms pinned beneath her. Must be some kind of magically enhanced rope. How cliché, she huffed. In a fit of anger, she drew up her bound feet and kicked out with all her might. She felt the rush of air as the back door on the driver’s side blasted completely off its hinges.



Whoever was driving roared in anger and slammed on the brakes, pitching her forward to land in a painful, bruised lump on the floorboard. It smelled even worse down here. The car skidded to a halt and Sid was blessedly cut off mid-scream. She heard the driver’s door open and the measured crunch of feet on gravel. Heavy footsteps. A man.



Buffy could feel it now. That little tickle she always felt when there was a vampire in the vicinity, only this was no tickle. This was a maddening itch that made her want to jump out of her skin. She drew her feet up again, eagerly making use of the only weapon at her disposal. Come on, vampy-boy. Just a liiiittle closer. Buffy just wants to kick your fucking head off! Here boy!



Snarling behind the gag, she lashed out; only to have her attempt foiled as her lower legs were grabbed and restrained beneath a powerful arm. Equally strong fingers fisted around the waistband of her jeans and she screamed around the gag as she was dragged from the floorboard and out of the car. Dropping her legs, his free hand found her throat and bent her sharply backwards over the trunk. He held her there, his fingers unbearably tight around her neck while his lower body pinned hers against cold metal.



Desperate to free herself, she thrashed and bucked against him, but at this angle and with her legs effectively immobilized, it did her no good. He simply held her down until she wore herself out and lay limp and breathless beneath him. Shifting just the slightest bit, he pressed into her. Buffy froze when she felt the rigid column of flesh grind into her cleft, more from her body’s reaction than from the act itself.



Oh, no WAY this was happening! Fighting the incipient arousal, she renewed her struggles to get away but only succeeded in driving him harder against her clit. The cool hand gripping her throat loosened, fingers splaying wide as they slid over her collarbone and pushed aside her blouse to trail tauntingly over the lace cups of her bra. With a vicious jerk that wrung a muffled shout of surprise from her, he ripped her shirt open. She heard the faint ting of the buttons hitting the car before he leaned over her and bit thru the front clasp of her bra.



Buffy laid there, chest heaving, breasts vulnerable and exposed to the chill night air. Tears of frustration soaked the edges of her blindfold and she thrashed her head back and forth in denial as she felt the rough pads of his fingers circle the pert nub of her nipple. The hand that still held her by the waist of her low-slung jeans unfurled, and the tips of those long fingers worming under the tight denim just brushed her damp curls.



She moaned, cursing her traitorous body as she tried to squirm away from him. This was so, so wrong, but she couldn’t stop the insidious tickle of arousal that swept through her. She hadn’t been touched by anyone but herself since that fateful night with Angel, and the hands that held her in thrall seemed to know just where she liked to be touched.



He quickened his thrusts against her, breathing his own excitement into the tender flesh of her throat. Why is he breathing at all? she wondered irreverently. Angel hadn’t; she remembered that much.



The sweet tension continued to build down low in her pelvis and she knew that no matter how much she fought it- fought him-he was going to get her off. Thought became deed as she felt the first waves of pleasure crash over her and she screamed into the gag.



Body arched taut, she rode it out, mindlessly thrusting her lower body against his. Buffy didn’t even feel the shifting features of the face pressed against her neck, but she felt the bite. Oh, yeah, she felt it. And it wasn’t pain that made her scream again.



He clamped down hard, sucking down greedy mouthfuls of her blood. Each tug of his mouth set off another orgasm, each more intense than the last. Slamming into her one last time, he collapsed against her with a harsh groan of repletion.



She wasn’t sure if the weakness in her limbs was from the orgasm or the blood loss, but she lay quietly under his weight and waited patiently for the world to right itself on its axis. Only the pain of her imprisoned arms forced her to finally nudge him into moving off of her.



A low, sinful sounding chuckle rumbled forth, mocking her efforts, but he shifted to the side so he wasn’t crushing her. Buffy frowned. There was something familiar about that smug little laugh…



The vampire reached behind her head and worked the gag loose. When he peeled it away she tried to speak, to hurl insults and promises of the direst retribution, but only managed a croaky squeak.



An impatient hand ripped away the blindfold, making her cry out when more than a few strands of silky blonde hair went with it. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she lifted her head to get a look at her captor. Her eyes widened and she let loose with a frustrated screech when she saw who had been holding her down and grinding his dick into her crotch.



“Hello, cutie.”

NEXT~~>

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