The Deal, part 4

By Tango

Buffy went through her day trying not to think of Angelus. His personality changed so often and so randomly, she was beginning to wonder how many people he hid inside that sexy, muscled body of his. She managed to keep him out of her mind until a little after lunch, when she went from working happily in her little gallery to storming into his office building.

She took the elevator to the stop floor and strode right past Harmony’s desk, ignoring her sputtering that Buffy wait for him to finish his current meeting. She stomped past her and swung open his double wooden doors to find Angelus behind his desk, sitting in his big leather chair, with a gorgeous blonde in a tight red dress on his lap.

She wasn’t jealous, she assured herself. She was just pissed and seeing him in a “meeting” with some tramp.

The blonde looked over her shoulder and smirked. “Is this the little live in?” she asked, in a throaty voice.

“Umhmm,” Angelus grunted, pulling her harder against him in the chair, kissing along the delicate column of her throat.

“Angelus,” Buffy ground out, crossing her arms over her chest, “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m in the middle of…lunch as you can see,” Angelus said with a smirk. “Come back in an hour and I’ll be glad to talk to you.”

“You’ll talk to me now,” she demanded, slamming his office doors and went inside. “You can finish your *lunch* later or should we discuss what a worthless piece of shit you are in front of your…meal?”

“Feisty,” the blonde said, standing up with a broad grin on her pretty face. “I like her, Angelus.”

“I thought you would,” he said, running his hands over her hips. “Will you wait?”

“No, I have a meeting,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. Somehow Buffy doubted she had ever suffered anything – including an honest day’s work – in her life. Buffy fumed as she waited for the blonde and Angelus to have a very long, very loud, extremely *wet* goodbye. She promised herself that it did not bother her in the least that he had virtually ignored her this morning after she had woken up in his arms, but acts like this no name blonde is leaving the damn country. When finally the woman - who turned out to be the model, Darla Weston – left his office, Angelus settled back in his big leather chair with an amused expression on his face.

“So anxious to be alone with me,” he said. “I’m all aflutter with anticipation.”

“I saw Riley this today,” she spat angrily. “You broke his arm and he has seven stitches in his face! In his face, Angelus! You said he was fine!”

“And he is,” Angelus answered calmly.

“A broken arm and stitches is not fine. It’s a damn sight from fine.”

“I was defending myself,” Angelus answered. “Not that I need to explain that to you.”

“Since I broke up with him to be with you, I think you do need to explain that to me. You can’t just break people’s arms and then act like it’s no big deal.”

Angelus crossed the room, walking toward her. Buffy backed up until she bumped against a wall. Leaning on the wall, he cornered her, looking directly into her eyes. “You belong to me,” he said, in a low voice. “Your precious Riley Finn tried to lay claim on what was mine. He attacked me not once but twice. I defended myself. If he tries again, I’ll break his legs. Am I making myself clear?”

“I don’t think anything you say is ever as clear cut as you make it,” she said, staring off across the room rather than at him.

“Well, Darla left, and now,” he said, taking her hand and placing her hand over the place where his pants were tented with his obvious arousal, “I’m left without a lunch date. You’ll need to fill in. How clear cut is that?”

“If you think I’m going to just fuck you after I saw you did to Riley-“

“Oh, I don’t want to fuck you,” he purred. “I want you on your knees with that pretty little mouth of yours wrapped around my cock.”

Buffy almost gasped but caught herself. She couldn’t let Angelus know that his callous words got to her. She yanked her hand back from him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, but until the STD tests come back, you’ll just have to make do without.”

“ I’m glad you brought that up,” he said, a slow, evil grin spreading across his face. He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a file folder and walked back across the room to hand it to her. “As it turns out, we’re both fine.”

“W-what?” she sputtered. “But it takes four to six weeks to get AIDS tests back and the others shouldn’t be-“

“Yes, well, money talks, lover,” he said.

“You aren’t supposed to have access to mine!” she shouted, staring at the pages in disbelief. “What about doctor-patient privilege?”

“Let’s just say I acquired them,” he said, taking a seat in the chair behind his desk again. “Now, it’s time for you to do your job.”

“You disgust me,” she snarled.

“And you belong to me,” he answered pleasantly.

“I don’t belong to you,” she hissed. “You’re paying me to have sex with you. That’s it.”

“No, I’m paying you to service me sexually,” he corrected. “That leaves quite a lot to the imagination and I intend to show you just how creative I can be starting tonight. But first things first.”

He crooked a finger at her and fuming, she crossed the room. “Crawl under my desk,” he said.

“Um…what for?” she asked, looking at him warily.

“Because that’s where I want you,” he answered. He watched her crawl under his massive desk with his eyes sparkling with anticipation. He had often fantasized about her under his desk, sucking him off while he conducted a meeting. Course, in his fantasies, she wanted to be there and was just excited about the idea of getting caught as he was, but as far as fantasies coming true, this was as close as he was going to get – at least for now.

She crawled underneath and looked up at him, irritated and incredibly beautiful. Her top gaped from her position on her knees and he got a lovely view of her breasts. He licked his lips as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, freeing himself for her.

She stared up at him. She hadn’t really done this that many times and he looked so obscene slumped in his seat, looking down at her with those deep brown eyes, his cock standing out large and hard before him. Her stomach flip-flopped. He stroked himself with one of those large hands, showing her how he liked to be touched, then he stopped and looked down at her expectantly.

With a sigh, she reached up for him, but he shook his head. “Oh no, lover,” he said. “You don’t need your hands, just your mouth.”

Narrowing her eyes at him in obvious disgust, she moved forward to take him into her mouth. Every move she made, he stopped to instruct her. He guided her through wet, sucking kisses all over his length, nibbling in exactly the right places, all the time keeping eye contact. Finally, when he guided himself into her mouth, he was beyond instructions. Her pink mouth covering just the tip and sucking, her twirling tongue massaging him was almost more than he could take. He threw his head back and screwed his eyes closed. She was perfect. Beyond perfect. She was everything he had hoped for.

“Take as much as you can,” he hissed, shifting in his chair, all thoughts of being in control flying away with every movement of her hot mouth. “Yesss,” he hissed. “That’s it, that’s it.”

He was mindless in his pleasure and could care less at that moment that Buffy was now in far more control than he was. He didn’t care. She was simply fantastic. Her hot, sucking mouth was more than he could have dreamed up on his own. As he reached the edge, he was groaning in perfect pleasure, telling her to keep going. Almost begging. Just as he came, his intercom sounded so loudly that it startled them both.

“Angel?” a woman’s voice sounded in the office. Buffy looked up at Angelus questioning. *Angel?* Who in their right mind would call this man “Angel?”

He groped for his phone, breathing heavily and slapped a button. “What do you want Harmony?”

“Wesley called and said that he acquired the building. He wants to know what you want to do with it.”

“Demolish it,” he grunted and slapped the button again, leaning back in his chair and looking down at her. “That was a nice start, Buffy,” he said, feigning a casualness that he knew should have been completely beyond his abilities. He had just had the best blow job of his entire life, but it was worth a shot.

“A start?” she said, pushing back his chair and crawling out from under his desk and glaring at him with frustration. “I have meetings today. I can’t just stay here and be your under-the-desk-girl.”

“I’ll need to teach you some manners,” he said, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up. “Tonight, you’ll be home at 5:30 naked in my bedroom.”


Buffy had planned to be on time but there was a very rich, very interested buyer in the gallery and she couldn’t walk out until he was finished. Normally, she would have just let Anya close, but normally, there wasn’t such a big sale waiting to happen.

She was cheerful when she arrived at the mansion, having just made the largest sale she ever had. She hopped up the steps and checked her watch. Fifteen minutes wasn’t really all that late, not that she was overly concerned with the idea of making Angelus wait. As far as she was concerned, he could wait all night.

She opened the door to the bedroom and found that Angelus was indeed waiting for her. He was waiting in nothing but leather pants. She let her gaze flit over his hard chest and tight muscled stomach. His shoulders looked broader without clothes. He was so gorgeous and severe looking, her heart skipped a beat.

“I said 5:30, not 5:45,” he growled, crossing the room toward her.

“Sorry, but we had a buyer and –“

“I don’t want excuses, I want obedience, Buffy,” he said, pulling her hard against his chest. “Perfect obedience.”

“Then you want a pet,” she snarled back, undaunted.

“Oh, you will be a pet,” he whispered. “Tonight, you’ll learn how to serve and obey. Tonight you’re the slave and I’m the master.”

“Look, Angelus, I know you’re all into this belonging to you stuff but-“

“Master,” he corrected.

Her eyes widened. “You’re serious.”

“Very. For the duration of this evening, you will call me ‘Master.’ You will do exactly as I say and you will not deviate from what I command of you.”

“All right, you’re freaking me out,” she said honestly.

“You will call me ‘Master,’” he repeated.

Oookay,” she said quietly, her lips tightening. This was so not funny. Trying to control her was one thing but ‘Master’?

“’Okay, Master,’” he corrected again.


“Good,” he crooned, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Very good. Now tell me how sorry you are for being late.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said, not meeting his eyes. It was just the two of them in the bedroom. There was no one to witness how humiliating it was to call him ‘Master’ and yet, she felt a blush forming on her cheeks.

“I don’t think you sound sorry,” he said. He slapped her ass hard through her thin skirt. She yelped more in surprise than in pain. “What the hell is your problem?” she demanded.

“Pleasure and punishment is what the evening is about, little slave,” he said huskily. “Now tell me you’re sorry again.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said, her blush deepening.

“Strip,” he said, going over to the bed and lounging back on it. He looked depraved and indolent, like some ruler on his throne. “Slowly,” he added.

With shaking hands, she shed her clothes slowly for his enjoyment and from the glances in his direction, she could see that he was definitely enjoying himself. He avidly watched as she removed each piece of clothing and let it drop to the floor.

“Kneel,” he commanded and she did as he ordered, but felt utterly confused about whether she wanted to stay to see what happened next or run screaming from the mansion. He stood and pulled a gift-wrapped box from the top drawer of the bedside table. He crossed the room and dropped it in front of her.

“What’s this?” she asked. He raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed. “What’s this, Master?” she asked, in a monotone voice.

“Open it,” he answered.

She carefully untied the elegant red bow and removed the silver wrapping to find a white box. She opened it, feeling weird about the receiving of gifts when she was naked and kneeling on the floor, but when she looked inside the box, she got it. It was a thin black leather collar, complete with a silver ring on the front, which no doubt would be connected to something before the end of the night.

“Do you like it?” he asked, grinning at her.

“It’s a collar,” she answered.

“Yes,” he said. “And if you don’t start calling me ‘Master’ the punishment will only get worse. Now what do you do when someone gives you a gift?”

“Thank you, Master,” she said, raising her eyes to him and giving him an insolent glare, “for giving me a gift that I couldn’t possibly like, want, or have any use for whatsoever.”

He laughed. “Put it on.”

He watched with avid interest as she fumbled with the collar, strapping it around her neck, flipping her long blonde hair to get it out of the way. His heart pounded in his chest. He had waited for so long to do so many things to her and with her. Seeing her on her knees wearing that collar was almost enough to make him forget about what he had planned for the rest of the night. Almost.

“Crawl to me,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She did. The hardwood floor made it a slow process and ever the better for viewing, if Angelus had any say in the matter, which, of course, he did. That was the whole point.

“We’re role-playing just for tonight. The safety word is ‘Apple,’” he said, when she stopped right in front of him. “If at any point, I’m hurting you or you can’t take any more just say ‘Apple’ and I will stop. Understand?”

She nodded. “Apple,” she said.

“We haven’t started yet,” he said, smiling.

He gently pulled her forward until her face was even with the bulge in the front of his leather pants. “Lick,” he said hoarsely. She made a frustrated noise, but did as he asked. He watched her intently and she felt the weight of his stare.

He urged her to climb on to the bed and only then did she notice the manacles already attached to the bedposts. She crawled to the pillows at his order and he leaned over her as if he was going to take her from behind and rubbed his leather clad body against hers, showing her how much he wanted this, wanted her. She knew from how quickly she was bound to the bed that this was not the first bondage play he had done. Her arms were stretched far apart, almost as far as they would go.

He slid a whip sort of tool that had a handle on one end and bunch of leather strips on the other over her arms, breasts and face. “This is flogger,” he said, rubbing against her once more. His voice was so deep and she could feel his rumbling voice as his chest pressed against her back. She closed her eyes and let her mouth slacken as he pinched her nipples and ground against her.

Suddenly, he was gone and she felt the soft slap of the flogger against her ass. It didn’t hurt as much as she had thought it might and she relaxed slightly. She bent her head forward and waited for the next blow to come. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Do you know why you’re being punished, little slave?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“I was late, Master,” she answered in a groan as he slapped her ass a little harder. She wiggled knowing she was probably already covered in red marks.

“And I didn’t think you were very sorry, Buffy,” he said, laying another strike. He reached between her thighs and spread her wider apart, entranced by her reddening ass and her glistening curls. She was excited as he hoped she would be. He rubbed between her thighs, finding the center of her and rubbing there. When she began to moan and press herself against his fingers, he stopped.

“Are you sorry for making me wait?” he asked. “Fifteen minutes,” he whispered, rubbing his chest against her back again and lightly rubbing her nipples. “Hard and ready,” he added, “waiting for you to come…home.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” she whimpered.

“How sorry?” he asked, biting and licking along her neck as he pinched her nipples and twisted them until she cried out.

“Very sorry!” she shouted.

He reached between her thighs again. “Do you want me to fuck you, Buffy?” he asked, giving her just the barest of caresses.

She bit her lip. Now she understood. He wanted her to beg him to have sex with him and that was the whole point. She squeezed her eyes closed. She wasn’t going to give in that easily. She shook her head side to side.

Almost immediately, he stopped touching her and another slap hit her ass. She jumped. The blow was unexpected. He took his time, using the flogger to caress as much as he used it to strike. It was artful in the way he kept her waiting, guessing, anticipating what would come next. Her ass was stinging and she was close to giving in or shouting out the safety word when he was against her again, this time no leather separated him from her. He rubbed his cock along her velvety opening; caressing her body in long, slow strokes.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Buffy?” he asked again, his breath hot against her ear.

Again, she shook her head. She refused to give in, even though she was dripping with need and the feel of him rubbing against her was overwhelming. He was gone again and she was waiting for another slap of the flogger, but instead heard him rummaging in a side drawer. She looked over in time to find him emerge with a leather leash, which seemed to match her collar perfectly. He attached it to the ring at the front of her collar and wrapped the length of leather around his hand again and again until he arched her head back.

He caressed her face. She was beyond beautiful, tied to his bed, spread so perfectly, her hair streaming down her back. Perfection. He reached between her thighs with his free hand, keeping her leash taught, her head pulled back. He rubbed in slow, maddening circles, pausing to plunge his fingers inside her and then back out again to tease and torment. He pressed himself tightly against her red ass, wedged there and waiting. He was beginning to think she wouldn’t give in, even when she was nearly sobbing and panting for release. He was moments away from giving up, when she whispered, “Please.”

He nearly came right then. “Please what, slave?”

“Please fuck me, Master,” she said, her voice still a whisper.

“I can’t hear you,” he growled, rubbing her harder until she was trembling and whimpering.

“Angelus, fuck me,” she cried. He didn’t make her wait. He slammed himself home, dropping the leash to grab onto her hips. He angled inside her, moving more shallowly, searching for that spot that he knew would make the whole session worth her while. From the hitch in her breath and the moan of pleasure, he knew when he found it.

They writhed together, arching and groaning, until they were mindless with pleasure. When she reached her climax, he went with her, biting the back of her neck and panting around his bite.