Hungry and Horny

They moved quickly, a preternatural grace flowing through their sluggish veins as they stalked the streets of LA. 

The town was theirs; every being on the planet knew that. But still there were those who thought that the rules laid out before them weren’t really for them. That the papers allowing one to be branded, which allowed them to be out at night, were not necessary to them. Or they didn’t care and hoped for a quick death. 

Death was never quick. 

And in those last moments, as the predators closed in, time slowly ticking away for the hapless human, they realized that. They all realized that. And they ran. Running was their second mistake. It was also their last. 

It made the chase better, more entertaining. It made the couple hunger more; for the hunt, for the win, for the blood they barely needed, now, to sustain themselves, and for each other. Most especially for each other. But that always came later. 

The night was black, the new moon hiding her light from all, the stars twinkling in the dimness of a city that once rivaled New York’s claim of never sleeping. Down one street, quickly turning left and up another. It was intoxicating, that smell of fear, the scent of sheer terror that the human gave off as he realized this was it, this was truly the end, there was no one coming to his rescue, there wasn’t a knight on a pure white charger galloping down the asphalt street to save him. 

This was reality, his reality, and it was rapidly closing in on him. 

Hope vanished, another stimulating scent, replaced by the ultimate in human primitiveness. Survival. The urge to survive was strong in all humans, though it rarely came out unless that human was threatened. Once it did, it was all consuming; it was everything. It was the only thing left. 

The street lights that once shone the way for a variety of patrons who used the streets as a means of travel no longer lighted the way for this human. Electricity was strictly conserved, used only for Family ordained events. Vampires had excellent night-vision, why cloud their senses with artificial means? 

Half the planet was blacked-out, candles again making a come back as the primary means with which to see. Mass transit was used more and more, the congestion of American highways limited to those who could afford the extravagant taxes levied on their toys. As an after-effect, pollution was cut by over a quarter, though the people didn’t seem to appreciate that as much as they should, the Family often thought. 

Another right, then a left, he was close to a friend’s house, close to safety if only he could get inside, they couldn’t get to him. Weren’t invited, weren’t allowed to enter, he’d be safe…the fact that they ruled the majority of the world should have clued the hapless human into the fact that if they wanted entrance, they were going to get it. Plus there was the added fear of burning the edifice to the ground and catching the screaming humans as they streamed out of the structure. 

Fear coursed through him, making him careless, making him forgetful. 

Death no longer held any meaning except to escape it and he ran faster. Breath panting in his overburdened lungs, legs rubbery from fatigue. His insides felt like they were about to explode from the strain on his body. But he was close, so very close. 

Risking a look behind him, even as he admonished himself for such foolhardiness, he tried to spot his pursers. They weren’t there. 

Turning back around, his head whipping in the night breeze, he wondered if he somehow managed to lose them, somehow manage to escape Death one more time, escape to live another day. He no longer sought Death, he ran from it; it was something he didn’t examine too closely. 

He ran straight into the man. Somehow he wasn’t surprised to realize the vampire was before him, even as he fell backwards, stumbling to the ground only to swiftly crawl backwards on his hands and feet, hoping…. But no, he knew it was futile. And he should have known that, should have known the vampire would find him, that it was always a fatal mistake to look behind you because they’re always in front of you.

Preternatural senses meant just that: the ability to scale buildings, run faster than a human, move quieter, see farther. 

Where was the woman? 

She was with the vamp, and he knew, hell everyone knew, that they always traveled together. That they were together. Their names were splashed across all the tabloids, the ones still in print, and most of the major newspapers, state run as they were. Everyone wanted to know about Angelus and Buffy, the vampire king and queen. 

“Damn it, baby, you found him first,” she said in a husky whisper that ran up the human’s spine, causing him to tingle with want and fear and somehow making them merge into something indescribable. Lustful terror, a heady aphrodisiac. He wanted her, he realized, eyes locked on her form, he wanted her with his last breath. 

She was petite, graceful in her flowing white dress, so inappropriate for hunting. Her long hair was tied back, so as to not get in her way, a few loose strands blowing in the wind. Her bright green eyes shone in the darkness of the street, and he noted that even heavily lined as they were, they still drew him in. She was beautiful, seductive, the embodiment of all any man wanted in a woman. 

He was helplessly lost in her eyes, the way she ran her tongue over her red lips, the way she walked, elegant, seeming to glide across the cracked pavement. Need pumped through him, arousing him to the point of pain as he watched her eyes, watched her move slowly around him, watched her smile at him. 

Smiling back, he never noticed the malicious gleam in her eye or the way she wound herself around her lover. Never noticed that he was still smiling mindlessly at her though she had forgotten all about him. 

“I wanted to play with him first, baby,” Buffy pouted up at Angelus, her eyes gleaming with lust and love. “No fair trapping him.” 

“They always run into an alleyway, lover,” the vamp said as he drew her close, hand a possessive grip on her waist. He hated when she toyed with their prey, even as he enjoyed it. Jealously streaked through him, making him demanding in his kiss. His mouth crushed hers, drawing a moan from her sweet lips as her hands crawled up his arms to encircle his neck. The passion surrounding them was enough to make the human want to beg to join, no, not even that, he wanted to plead, supplicate to simply watch. 

“I win.” Angelus growled, eyes glowing golden in the darkness. 

She laughed then and for a split second, as rational thought returned and the spell was broken, the human thought that he could get away. Inching backwards once more, he tried for quiet, but after the first cautious move, the pair turned golden eyes on him. 

“Looks like your meal is trying to get away, baby.” She whispered, again in that husky voice that spoke of sex and need. “I don’t think he likes it here.” 

The vampire laughed, low and dangerous, “That’s too bad now, isn’t it, love?” 

With those words he released the blonde, setting her firmly away from him as if protecting her from a weak and frightened human. Reaching down, the taller man grasped the human by his throat, raising him to eye-level. Face shifting, eyes slitting, fangs teasing out from the corner of his mouth, Angelus laughed again. 

“Running, I do love it when they run.” In the next instant his fangs pierced the human’s throat, drinking the terror and passion laced blood that gushed from the twin holes. Angry with the miserable human over the lust he felt for his, Angelus’, mate, he tore into his throat, vicious. 

Buffy was next to him in an instant, maneuvering her body behind the human’s and tearing into the other side of his neck. Draining him in moments, Angelus threw him into a corner and pulled Buffy to him, bloody mouth finding hers before the dead body crashed against the wall. 

Swiftly walking her to the wall opposite the fallen human, Angelus lifted her up, smoothing the muslin skirt up her thighs, as he spread her legs to accommodate him. His long fingers found her center instantly, teasing the outer folds. 

“I won, my love,” Angelus repeated against the soft skin of her collarbone, his lips following the path of skin down to where her breasts all but spilled from the bodice. “Anything I want you, as my willing slave, must do.” 

“Agreed, lover,” Buffy said on a moan of pure need as his lips closed over a hardened nipple through the material. “What is your first wish, my master?” 

It wasn’t often she called him that, insisting, as was her right and as was the simple truth, that she was his equal. He couldn’t deny that, he’d taken her as his Joined Mate, after all, but it still turned him on like little else when she submitted. Later, in the comfort and privacy of their rooms, he’d make her say it until she was hoarse from screaming; submitting was one thing, doing so where others could possible see her exquisite body another. 

“Fuck me, Buffy,” he commanded, hardening more at the thought of her yielding to him. 

Nimble fingers quickly undid the snaps on his leather pants, his preferred hunting attire, pushing the offending pants low on his hips. Small cool hands slipped in to fondle his already hard cock, taking bare moments to tease him further. Buffy wanted to take her time, wanted to taste him, to tease and torment until he moved with her so hard and so fast even she had bruises in the morning. 

Foregoing those pleasures, she instead guided him into her wet core, settling over him as he turned to place his back to the wall. Placing her hands on his shoulders for leverage, Buffy set a quick pace, moving up and down him as her mouth explored the dark recesses of his, as her teeth nipped along his jaw, as she clamped down on the mark she’d left there ages ago, during their joining. 

Faster and harder she moved, reveling in Angelus grip against her hips as he guided her faster and harder against him. How his fingers bit into her soft flesh, his lips moving against her mark. Squeezing her inner muscles once more, knowing her loved that as much as she did, Buffy stiffened in climax as Angelus’ fangs stabbed into her neck, his own orgasm washing through him in a violent wave of need. 

Still gently rocking against him, as if unaware of her actions, Buffy rode out their orgasms, humming softly to herself in the blissful aftermath. Running her tongue across his lips, a gesture she knew he enjoyed, Buffy purred, “That satisfy both your cravings, baby?” 

Angelus laughed, brutally kissing her once more before setting her on the ground. “Hungry and horny, is that what you call it?” At her nod, he pulled her out of the alley. “It’s abated a little, love, but you still have hours to go before you fulfill your duties to your master.” 

Buffy stopped, tugging him around to face her. Smiling, a brazen grin that promised untold pleasures, she leaned up, soft breath tickling the outer shell of his ear. “Yes, my master.”

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