“What did you do?”
“Buffy...” There’s a pained note in Angel’s voice. “I told you. I kissed her –”
Faith’s mouth is wet and warm against her stomach and she wants it lower so she takes a fistful of dark silk hair and pushes her head down so that hungry mouth’s on her clit, sucking fiercely.
“You touched her. I know you did. Tell me where.”
His hand smacks the wall in frustration. “Her breasts. Buffy, I had to –”
Full and heavy, nipples hardening as she stares at them, crinkling under her tongue, tightening as her teeth tease and bite.
“Did you see her naked?”
With every promise her body makes when it’s clothed met in full. Curved and sleek and strong. Skin that heals so fast it begs to be hurt, all juiced-up heat and no limits...
“Did you come for her?”
Writhing, arching, hips slamming down, fingers on each other, deep in flesh, soaked in heat, words she’s never said aloud spilling out in a breathless rush.
“I didn’t fuck her!”
He walks away, fast footsteps fading.
She wishes she could say the same.
And her forehead burns where Faith left her final kiss.
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