AUTHOR'S NOTES:  The original NC-17 version of this chapter is available at my website Yseult's Passion (http://yseultspassion.com)

When he thought about it several hours later, there was never any question about whether or not he was staying. It was the "Please" that clinched it. That and the sight of his lover clinging emotionally to the last bit of sensible freakiness in her life.

In one fluid motion, he crossed the floor and pulled his shirt over his head. He towered over her for a moment and silently asked her if this was what she wanted. Then he closed his eyes and sank into her embrace.

Angel held Buffy so tightly she squeaked in pain. "Sorry," he said, "I just …" He kissed her tenderly. "It doesn't matter," she whispered. "Just stay until I go to sleep." You can leave after that.

She made room for him on the bed. He slipped beneath the covers and reached for her. Her head found that niche in his shoulder that belonged only to her. She wrapped one arm around his waist and closed her eyes. He held her close, one hand running lightly up and down her arm while the other played with her hair. One of her legs entwined around one of his. Her breathing slowed, and she finally fell asleep.

It had been days since he'd last seen her asleep. After the breakup, he had stayed away from her to minimize the hurt for both of them. Each night, he had battled the desire to climb to her bedroom window and watch over her as she slept. He placed soft kisses along her hairline and the top of her head. She sighed as she drifted deeper into sleep and vaguely heard him say, "I will always love you."

Buffy awoke an hour later because someone was using a jackhammer in her ear. It took her a moment to realize that the sound was coming from a purring Angel. Then her brain kicked into overdrive. I'm in bed with Angel. I'm in bed with Angel and he has no shirt on and I only have a shirt on. This is a big no-no. She tried to move out of his embrace, but he wouldn't loosen his grip. "Where are you going?" he whispered.

She wriggled some more as she said, "The other side of the bed, if you'll let go of me." He released her and she rolled away from him. Angel spooned his body to hers and ran a hand down the length of her body. Buffy shivered at his touch. What the hell is he doing? Angel nuzzled her neck and ears. She could feel his erection pressing into her back. Has he totally lost it? We need to stop.

"Angel, stop. We can't do this." Buffy hated to say the words. The last time he'd touched her like this, she was seventeen. She couldn't kill him again. She would die first. Or I could just die right here from his unbelievable touch. She audibly gulped as his hand traveled back up her body and underneath the silk shirt that separated them. His hand rested on her hip as he pulled her closer and ground his arousal against her back. "Buffy," he breathed in her ear.

She rolled in his embrace, put her hands against his chest, and pushed him away. "Angel! What are you doing?" He gazed at her with lust- and love-filled eyes. "What you want me to do," he replied and moved his hand from her hip to her waist.

His answer shocked her. Where is this coming from? "Okay, mister, I know I was hit on the head. What's your excuse?" The sarcasm in her voice momentarily stopped him. "What?" He was lost. What is she talking about?

"Hello, earth to Angel. Is anybody in there? Don't give me that innocent look. We can't do whatever we're about to do. You do remember that?" She was getting annoyed. What the hell was wrong with him?

Angel smiled at her and kissed her so deeply and thoroughly she shook from its effects. "Trust me," he whispered against her swollen lips. "Angelus --" she said and was swept up in another heady kiss. "Trust me," he said again. She pulled her head back so that she could see into his eyes. Love and desire stared back at her.

"I trust you," she said quietly and guided his head to the mark on her neck.

He slowly undid the buttons on the shirt and pushed it off her shoulders. His hands freely roamed her body for the first time since that fateful night. He touched every inch of her skin, his tongue following his hands as they felt each cut and scar on her body. This was carnal worship in its purest form. He had only done this once before and that memory had sustained him through the years in Hell.

Her breasts were fuller than he remembered, but they tasted the same. He circled each breast slowly, deliciously avoiding the erect pink nipples that beckoned him. Buffy mewled, "More, Angel." He obliged and she was left breathless by the orgasm that overtook her. She shuddered against Angel's chest.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Angel placed her hands on the waistband of his pants. Together, they pushed his pants off.

Angel lay on his back and let Buffy explore his body. She was intimately acquainted with his chest. But she'd hardly seen the rest of him. The night he took her virginity she had been too afraid and awed to do much more than follow his lead. This time she wanted to please him as much as he pleased her. She tentatively touched him and his body moved in response. "Is it supposed to do that?" The question was out of her mouth before she realized it. Angel laughed as much at her question as at the blush spreading over her face. "Yes."

Her hand delicately closed around the shaft, and he took an unneeded breath. "See," she said coyly, "two can play at this game." She moved her hand up and down. Angel bucked his hips on the bed.

The next thing she knew she was underneath a very heavy and determined vampire. "If you don't want this, tell me and I'll stop. No matter what." Angel hoarsely spoke these words as he searched Buffy's face for any sign of denial. He hovered above her, his weight supported on his hands.

She cupped his face in her hands. "I've only ever wanted you, Angel. Always. Forever." She felt a cool touch between her legs as he ascertained if she was ready for him. Then another cool pressure followed by a feeling of completeness. Angel hesitated once he was inside her. She was still incredibly tight; she needed time to adjust to his size. When he judged she was ready, he set a slow rhythmic pace. If he could freeze time, this is the moment he would choose: buried deep in his lover as she lay beneath him. Their lovemaking quickened as they lost themselves in their passion. Angel timed it so they both climaxed at the same time. Buffy's moan echoed through the mansion followed by Angel's inhuman growl.

Downstairs, Wesley looked up at the ceiling and smiled.