So here's the chapter I've been putting off writing for a little while…my attempt at Angelick smut. Feel free to let me know if it's awful or clumsily written so I can improve or let me know if you enjoy it and I'll include some more lemons in chapters. Thanks to all the new followers that I've recently gained for subscribing! :D

"Not that I'm unappreciative of Wichita's lovely public parks, it's very romantic really, but isn't this illegal?" Angela questioned, holding his hand as they walked across the park. He laughed quietly and could smell that it was going to rain soon so pulled her along before she could get too distracted by the pretty Christmas lights decorating the picturesque town.

He had to find a place that was just on the outskirts of the main city in the older part of town but it was still so intriguingly new to her that she was looking around with wide and inquisitive eyes. As soon as he'd parked the car down the street and let her out (after the "jumping out of the moving car in a fit of anger during an argument" incident a year ago, he'd started utilising the child locks on her side when he could get away with it), she had jumped out and ran down the street, dragging him behind her looking at every shop window, building and bench in amazement.

"They have a book store that's open all the time, Patrick!" she said excitedly and pointed to the neon sign, practically bobbing up and down on the spot.
"That's an adult book store, Angel," Patrick said taking her momentary lapse in fierce independence to slip his black jacket on to her bare arms.
"Like John Grisham books?" she wrinkled her nose and he laughed and kissed her hand as they continued walking past a crowded bar. He shouldn't laugh. This was like a different planet to her. How her grandparents kept her from running amuck and getting into all kinds of trouble in Paris was beyond him.

He held her hand as they walked down the parks pathway, worried that she might float away if he didn't keep her on the ground not to mention how naïve Angela was about how dangerous city people, or any marks for that matter, could be. It wasn't her fault, he knew, as she was the carnival princess so everyone since she was born had shielded her from it. Angela was holding her flats in her spare hand and enjoying swidging her toes in the slightly damp grass. Patrick was keeping his eyes out in front of her path for any syringes, broken glass and other unpleasantries that tended to be present in areas such as this but didn't say anything because he was elated at how happy she was.

It started to drizzle as he led her up the steps to the small hotel off a side street that his car couldn't possibly fit down. Even barefoot, she tripped over several uneven cobblestones. The reception room was very narrow but warm with a dusty chandelier, peeling wallpaper and a big display of tourism and backpacker information on the walls and a wilted sad looking Christmas tree in a pot in the corner. It wasn't nearly as good as what Angela deserved, Patrick thought to himself sadly. A bored-looking teenage boy with auburn hair sat at the end of the narrow entrance hall playing with his guitar with his feet up on the desk behind the booth.

"Name?" the boy asked monotonously in a British accent to Patrick without looking up from his instrument.
"Patrick Jane," he said and the boy slid a key on a chain across the counter. Angela came over next to Patrick from inspecting all the brochures.
"Is that a Fender?" Angela asked him and the boy looked up with an annoyed expression and then when he saw Angela his eyes widened and struggled to talk. If Patrick hadn't been so annoyed, he would've sympathised with the boy since he felt this way on a regular basis.

She leaned over the counter and looked at it.
"Oh, it's a Yamaha. Good choice for a basic acoustic. Fender does amazing electrics but their acoustics are better for batting practise."
"Urh, yeah I've heard that," he said nervously but didn't look away from her and put his guitar on the table. "You play?"
"Yeah, on an old Taylor," she smiled while Patrick made impatient scuffling noises with his feet. "Are you from England?"
"Urh, yeah, Manchester. You?"
"Everywhere. My mother was born in England. It looks very lovely."

Patrick interjected before the boy could reply to her.
"England's great. Guitars are great. Everyone's great. Let's go," he said taking the key and wrapping his arm around Angela's waist and lifted her up and away with him.
She struggled to get free from his grip as he walked up the first blue carpeted crooked stair case with tinsel wrapped around the wooden banisters. He placed her on her feet when they reached the first landing.

"Are we done taunting the staff, Miss Ruskin," he teased. She looked scandalised and punched his arm.
"I was not taunting! I was being polite! A concept I'd be more than happy to teach you."
He laughed as they walked side by side up the next rickety staircase. Their room was on the top floor.

"Maybe that was your intention," he said. "But when you are totally unprepared and a beautiful girl in a stunningly sexy red dress with the most mesmerising eyes and smile you've ever seen just wildly appears out of nowhere and starts talking to you about guitars only to disappear to a room for the night with her boyfriend, it sounds pretty taunting to me. You're dangerous to our gender, Angela Ruskin. I don't want to be leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you all over Kansas before I return you back tomorrow."
She jumped onto his back like a monkey and pressed a kiss to his neck. "You don't seem to think I'm very dangerous."
"On the contrary," he said piggybacking her up the stairs. "I love you but I'm still terrified of you. I may very well end up being one of those broken hearts one day."
He could tell she rolled her eyes. "You'd be fine. I can't imagine you being one of those broken-hearted people who take, like, ten years if not forever to get over someone. Like my father."

Patrick highly doubted she was right and hoped it would never come to that but didn't want to argue tonight even playfully. He put her down in front of the dark blue door with their number on it and wrestled with the sticky lock and key to no avail. Angela shrugged her backpack off of her shoulders and pulled a pin out of her hairdo and picked at it until it unlocked a few seconds after. He looked at her in fake shock and she rolled her eyes and whacked his shoulder again.
"What?! If I'm going to have to put up with being a carnie kid for the rest of my life, I should be able to use the good stuff."
Patrick chucked and opened the door. He tried to flick on the light but it didn't work however the twinkling festive lights that shone through the outside window illuminated the room enough to make things visible. The room was small but pleasantly decorated and it was very warm. He was suddenly reminded of the reason they were here and instead of getting lost in his suppressed fantasies like he usually did, he felt a flutter of panic spread across his chest that he hadn't felt before. Especially regarding this.

It occurred to him for the first time that he was going to hurt her and it was going to be unavoidable no matter how gentle, patient and careful he was. Angela dropped her backpack with a thump to the floor and shrugged his jacket off and laid it on the bed with comically comparative care. Even though Patrick needed her more than he had ever needed her before, he decided it was safer for him to stand next to the door and let her wrap her head around what was about to happen and give her a chance to think about if this is what she really wanted. Angela put one hand across her stomach and the other fiddled with her necklace as she looked around the room. What are you thinking? Patrick desperately wished to know.
"It's quite warm, isn't it?" she said to him and the hand on her necklace moved to the side of her neck. He tried to answer but his mouth had become frustratingly dry. She walked over to the window, lifted it open and leaned out of it.
"Be careful, Angel," he managed to get out and moved to stand closer to her in case she fell headfirst out of the window. It wouldn't have been the first time she had a window mishap.

She was absolutely breathless at how lovely the view was from up here. They could see all of Wichita. The lights, the tall buildings and the roads. The heavy rain that was pelting against the ground and building drowned out the muted city sounds of traffic, sirens and music and made the colourful scene look like a Van Gough painting.

Patrick noticed that she must've been warm despite the cool air outside as a bead of sweat had formed on the nape of her neck where her hair was starting to fall apart. He stepped forward against his will and wiped the bead of moisture away before wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a kiss to the side of her neck. Her eyes drifted closed and her heart began to accelerate.

"Are you okay?" he asked mistaking her reaction for fear.
"Yeah," she answered trying to be casual but her voice shook a little and she knew that he would notice. "I'm just a bit nervous."
"You don't need to be."
"I just…what if I'm bad at this…or I do something wrong?" she admitted her worries out loud and determinedly stared out the blurry open window.
"You won't be," he told her. "You'll be fine, but if you are this nervous then I'm fine with not doing anything tonight. I'm with you because I love you, Angel. Nothing will change that."

He felt her tense body relax in his arms and spin around and he had to suppress a moan at how perfectly her body fit against his own and how natural it felt at this proximity.
"Can I have a minute?" she asked and he let her go. Angela went into the small adjourning bathroom and splashed some water on her face to cool herself down. Unfortunately since she wore it so rarely, she forgot about the makeup Sam had applied to her face and she nearly died when she looked in the mirror and saw a streaky mismatched panda staring back at her.

Angela swore loudly and scrubbed at her face with a cloth hanging over the bath faucet until most of the offending cosmetics had been removed. She wished she had grabbed her bag off the bed and brought it in with her so she could brush her teeth and possibly fix her hair as the elegant up hairstyle she had done was unbecoming and there were tendrils and curls trying to burst out in rebellion all over the place. Super attractive.

Her heart was racing and she focused on her reflection in the mirror to try and get a hold of herself. Although she was nervous, it was outweighed by her excitement and the butterflies in her stomach felt more like fireworks at this stage. She examined her body up and down to see if there was anything she could do to fix herself up with what she had.

She ran her hands down her smooth legs and thanked god for how smooth they still were and ripped off the bandaid her father had put on her leg that morning. Angela underestimated how painful it was to rip the sticky strap off your skin and swore loudly again and had to assure Patrick that she was fine through the door. She knew if she spent any more time fussing over herself, Patrick would panic and break the door to make sure she hadn't smacked her head and was bleeding out all over the floor. It wouldn't be out of character for either of them.

She composed herself and smoothed out her dress before walking out to meet him again. Patrick was lying on the bed, still fully dressed but his vest was unbuttoned and his shoes were off. He was propped up by one hand and was flicking through a book from the small shelf next to the bed and smiled up at her to acknowledge her and went back to reading. It's was her virginity losing night and he was going to read a book?! He pulled another off the shelf, bored with the first, and started skimming it. Angela was ready to kill him.

"I've finished in the bathroom," she told him loudly. "So, yeah…I've finished."
"Okay, Angel," he smiled at her and went back to browsing through the pages.
She stood there awkwardly for a few moments longer, waiting for him to get on with it, but he closed the book, put it back on the shelf and chose another.
Angela felt frustration well up inside of her and snapped.

"PATRICK JANE-!"
His low laugh, dark and intense instead of its usual humour, interrupted her and he put the book on the bedside table and stood up from the bed. His eyes were all but burning with desire and Angela was fighting the urge to punch him in the nose for purposely dragging out the torture and wondered where he got the nerve and the unmitigated gall to play games with her now.

Patrick could feel her anger dissolve as he pulled her against him and kissed her face a number of times before reaching up to remove her hairpin and revelled in the feeling of her soft curls falling across his hand and down her back. He tucked the disobedient tendrils behind her ears to gain him better access to her face which he kissed thoroughly and passionately until her heart was all but racing against his chest. His kisses became deeper and more forceful and he pulled her even tighter against him as his hands gripped harshly at the fabric on her back.

Angela briefly wondered whether Sam would be capable of sewing the buttons back on Patrick's shirt as she hadn't had the patience to deal with them in the customary way of pulling them through the holes and instead opted for the ripping them all off at once and not giving a damn where they landed approach. Sam would probably string her up by her toes for such disrespect for clothing but it wouldn't be nearly as bad as Angela showing her the long tear down the back of her lovely dress. Apparently, Patrick hadn't had much patience for buttons or zippers either and removed his pants for good measure.

She felt him gradually push her backwards towards the bed however her legs were bound by her dress that was tangled around her ankles in a puddle causing her to topple backwards. Ideally, in her head, this could've replicated how they both fell onto her bed last time things had gotten this heated and it would've made for a cute and effective way of getting them to their destination. However, she was chronically unlucky and grace evaded her as she fell to the floor on her butt while Patrick landed harshly on his elbows trying to catch her in time.

Angela just wanted to die at the mental image of how ungraceful, unsexy and positively ridiculous she must look. Patrick leaned to kiss her forehead to console her adorable but grumpy expression however he couldn't help but laugh at how funny the situation had turned. Instead of being mortified and unhappy, she laughed as well and put her fist up to her forehead, wondering what crime she had committed in her past life to deserve this constant torture.

Patrick picked her up gently, hoping that in doing so he would deter her from maiming either of them before reaching the bed. Angela looked more relaxed than before as he lowered her to the bed in nothing but their underwear. Her eyes were wide, but didn't seem hesitant or nervous anymore and there was laughter and love in them now. The only sound was their uneven breathing and the heavy rain as he entwined his fingers with hers and lifted them on the pillow above her head and battled internally whether he wanted to start with her lips and work his way down or start with her toes and work his way up. It thrilled him that he had all night to explore the wonderland that was her body.

He brushed her long unruly hair back off of her face and neck, spreading it like a fan over the pillows and kissed her. She tasted sweetly of champagne and strawberries and the taste of her lips and mouth was so intoxicating that he spent a while gently tracing their plump shape, exploring her mouth and sucking delicately at her lips with deliberate drawn out slowness until he paused to let her catch her breath. She was gasping in short panting breathes through lips that looked slightly swollen and he cursed himself and frantically tried to recall if he had been too forceful against her mouth.

It seemed Angela was kind enough to answer for him and pulled him against her again. They tangled in his hair and pulled his face back to her. He reluctantly avoided her lips, afraid he might actually bruise them and desperately retained control over a portion of his mind. His lips, desperate for her taste, ended up behind her ear and trailed down the lavender and cream delicately scented skin of her neck.

He slid further down her body now, anxious to caress the rest of her. Patrick committed the sight of her bare ivory skin in lacy black underwear to his memory before removing her bra and marvelling at the sensation of her soft breasts in his hands.
Slowly, he circled the rosy tip with his tongue and focused on the sound of her breathing over the pounding rain while his hands explored the plains of her velvety skin making sure he was paying attention to all her bodily responses in case she became hesitant or unwilling. Patrick moaned in his throat as he felt her gentle hands clenching and unclenching in the hair at the back of his neck. He looked up to her face to see her eyes were squeezed shut and her head was thrown back to leave her tantalising neck exposed. She was a vision of absolute sensuality and he burned the sight of her into his memory palace forever.

Patrick continued this with both of her breasts until she started to moan incoherently and her body started to shudder beneath him. He pressed her back down against the sheets and rained kisses over her neck to relax her highly stimulated body. She made a frustrated noise that made him smile against her skin and after a few soothing kisses and caresses, he continued down her flat stomach. Patrick paused the trail of his lips to dip his tongue into the dent of her belly button which caused her to squirm and he pressed an apologetic kiss over the ticklish spot (committing it to his memory for future reference) and continued down lower.

As he got dangerously lower, he could tell that she knew at that moment that he wasn't going back upwards and her knees instinctively tried to draw together but his body was lying between her legs and she was wonderfully unsuccessful.
"It's okay, are you alright?" he asked her and she nodded but she was biting her lower lip and he knew that he needed to take this slowly. He pressed kisses to the inside of her thighs and let his lips slide slowly up until he was void of all rational thought. Patrick caressed the band of her black panties to silently ask her subconscious body's permission to remove them which was granted by her lifting herself up so he could slide them down her silky legs.

Keeping his eyes on her face, his hand slipped down between their bodies and her breathing became even more unsteady. His fingers brushed over the curls hiding her most secret and alluring area and slid through the folds that were unbearably warm and slick. Patrick could feel her pulse pounding underneath her skin and the vibration sang up his arm and spread heat to every cell of his being. He carefully moved his finger up and down the length of her to determine whether she was ready for him. His finger easily slipped just a little bit inside of her and she cried out deliciously in response.

A moan escaped his lips at the sound of her which was more luscious than anything he had dreamed. Holding her hips down gently, he slid his finger out and back in a little further to try and be sure that there would be as little discomfort as possible when his erection replaced his finger. The mere thought of this being put into action in only a few moments made his body become painful with anticipation and he took a moment to get a handle on his own lust. Tonight was about her and making everything perfect for her. He briefly considered this was also his life's purpose and he was more than happy to dedicate the rest of his life to this goal.

Patrick went back up to her face and kissed her hard on the mouth, stroking both sides of her face with care in contrast.
"Angela," he said raggedly and love laced each syllable of her name. "You must tell me if you want me to stop. If it hurts too much…tell me okay?"
"I will," she smiled at him and he felt his heart start to falter when he leaned down to kiss her and tell her he loved her more than anything in this world. Patrick reached down to the pocket of his pants on the floor where he unwrapped a condom and settled himself between her legs and shifted above her so that the part of him that was aching for her was pressed in against the scalding hot entrance of her body. He paused to take a deep breath and waited for her eyes to open and find his own. He saw his entire future in their sapphire depths.

He positioned his arm underneath her to hold her body and the other hand held her face so his thumb could still brush reassuringly against her cheek as he pushed his way in slowly and tried to ignore how amazing she felt already. She was unbelievably wet and warm and tighter than he'd ever experienced before. There were waves of shock and love coursing through him and he paused only briefly when he encountered an unfamiliar resistance inside of her. He captured her lips suddenly to hopefully let the surprise dull the pain when he broke through and pushed his entire length into her. Patrick felt Angela whimper quietly in surprise and bite down on his lip softly. He rested his forehead against hers and didn't dare move and looked at her to determine her reaction and it was clear despite her infuriatingly unreadable face.

Her eyes were shut tightly and her lips were slightly parted. Pain. He wished she would open her eyes so he could see how bad it was. If there were tears in her eyes, he would make the decision for the both of them to not continue and take her home if she wished.
"Angel?" he said worried and started to brush her hair off her face with shaky hands. He was not coping well with the pain on her face and being the one that had put it there.

"I'm okay. I just need a second," she told him and ran her fingers along his back to ease the panic in his eyes. He kissed her forehead lightly and stroked her hair until she asked him to move. Ignoring his own urges to grab hold of her hips and make love to her as thoroughly as possible, he slowly pulled back marginally and moved forward cautiously.

Slowly and gently, he began to move more steadily and it was difficult to maintain such a slow pace because it felt more amazing then anything he had experienced or dream of experiencing before but he didn't want to inflict anymore pain on her. He hoped that her tightness, although being unbearably amazing for him, would subside to make it a little less uncomfortable for her and he worried that he hadn't taken enough time to prepare her. Patrick felt Angela's body relax a little more but her muscles were still slightly tensed. He knew this was a new and big experience for her body and she wouldn't find it overly pleasurable and comfortable the first time.

Angela let out a soft sigh to his relief and he could feel her body finally moving and raising her hips to meet his gentle thrusts. Her eyes were closed and she was chewing her lower lip as she adjusted to the many foreign different feelings that kept enveloping her body. "Can you move a bit faster?" she asked and he was more than willing to comply.

Pleasure gradually took over the pain in her face he noted as he rocked their bodies together, not forcefully but enough that the bed began to move with them. She kissed his face as he explored hers. Her nose, cheek, chin, ears, everything was so wonderful and a moan escaped his mouth. He bent her knee so he could move deeper and more comfortably inside her warmth. Angela began to cry out slightly, gasping at the air but never moving away from him. He lost himself in the rising and falling of her body which made him reach a new high he had never imagined. Angela's strawberry champagne breath washed over his face as her head tossed from side to side and it was so overwhelming that he froze for a second.

"Don't stop…Patrick, please.." Angela sighed out, sensing his hesitation but still gasping from the pleasure of it all as her hand gripped delightfully into the skin of his back.
"I won't," he promised kissing her passionately on the mouth and resumed their rhythm. "Oh god, I love you, Angela…I…you're so…uh, oh Angela…"
He felt his restraint begin to loosen and he went faster and deeper and if the noises she was making were any indication, it was far from hurting her. A few times through the cries of pleasure mixed in with the moans of his name, she told him to be closer and he was only too happy to oblige. Patrick still felt like they were too far apart even though they were one and he felt her teeth teasing his lower lip as she moved her mouth along his jaw line to his ear and whisper 'more, please' needlessly into his ear.

Patrick gently took her arms and rolled them to the side, keeping her tightly against his body and thrusting steadily as they continued to move around the bed, getting everything from each other and he knew in that moment that not being with this woman for the rest of his life would surely kill him. He pushed himself into her again and again and her sweet release was repeated with gasps and moans from the both of them. Patrick had no idea how up until now, he had lived without this and didn't think he could survive another night without her.

"Angel," he whispered when her ear was near his lips. He felt her body shake again and her moan his name as another orgasm racked her body and her hands gripping into his back seemed to push through his skin and radiate to his very bones with pleasure.
"You're perfect…you're so beautiful," he whispered to her as he continued the assault of kisses on her neck. He could feel his pleasure beginning to heighten and knew he was close. Everything about this was better than any of his fantasies. Angela's movements, her sounds, her body, it was more than what he had dreamed it to be and he couldn't hold on for much longer.

Patrick waited for her muscles to tense up and her fingers pull desperately at his hair before he let his self control go and held her body against his while his free hand gripped a handful of sheet next to her head. He yelled her name as both their climaxes rocked their bodies and lights exploded in his eyes. Patrick had never been so physically and emotionally exhausted in this life. The experience was so surreal and foreign it had felt like it had been a first time for him as well as nothing he had ever done in his life had compared to that.

His body collapsed on top of hers which was also damp with sweat, taking his weight on his elbows. He unclenched his fist to discover he had torn the handful of sheet he was gripping on to and attempted to calm his frantic heartbeat and shaky breath by focusing on the rain and the feel of her fingers tracing patterns on his damp back that was probably going to be marked with little fingernail indents in the morning.

Patrick weakly lifted himself up to look at her face which was buried into his shoulder. She was panting as well and looked completely worn out but sufficiently loved and content. She had a tired but breathtaking smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to his neck. He knew he should ask her if she was okay or if she was hurt or tell her he loved her at least but he was not capable of producing words and instead just lay in her arms and hold her close, occasionally watching the twinkling lights bounce off her hair in a wonderful fashion.

"I love you, Angela Ruskin," he said when he managed to gain control over his body and let a limp dark curl wrap around his finger.
"I love you, Patrick Jane," she said hazily but just as sincerely as her body began to settle into sleepiness. He felt her lower muscles relax around him but cursed internally when she still made a pained noise when he removed himself from her and disposed of the condom.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said kissing her hair when he rolled next to her. "Are you hurting? Are you alright?"
"Sssh," she shushed him pressing a finger to his lips as her body shape easily settled into his own and she snuggled into his hot chest, grateful for the cool rainy breeze the window let in. "Stop fussing. I'm more than alright."
Truthfully, her whole body was aching especially in areas she hadn't known existed but it was nothing compared to the warm and bursting feeling that was taking residence in her chest. She felt like she could sleep for days if he didn't move from beside her.
"Everything's perfect."

He thought about how far away from his father and the carnival they were and how indeed perfect it was being just the two of them in their own safe little bubble existing neither in the carnival world or the real world but in one their own. His own little world with his best friend, his girlfriend and now his lover. There were many other words he knew he could eventually be able to attach her to and his heart soared with longing. All in good time. And if there was something he did have with this woman, it was time. His whole life in fact.
"Yes, it is."