“As you wish,” she uttered to the man who continued to intrigue her.

Too bad he had left. Well, he may have walked away this time, but Illyria knew she was getting to him.

However, that was before Illyria pretended to be Fred.

Every time Wes thought he was making progress with Illyria, she would pull something, effectively derailing all his efforts. It was as if she was intentionally trying to get a rise out of him.

“I afford her some amusement,” he had said to Angel a few days ago. ‘I guess I wasn’t too far off with that assessment,’ Wesley mused as he unlocked the door and stepped into his apartment.

Hopefully, he would have a little peace and quiet before Illyria found him.

‘May as well make the most of it,’ he thought, making his way to the bedroom.

Perhaps, a nice warm shower would soothe his nerves.

She had watched as Wesley got in his vehicle and drove off. Following him had been so easy.

The water was running which meant he was bathing and would be returning to the room soon. She would wait until Wesley was asleep and then, she could set her plan into motion.

Unfortunately for him, his torment carried over into his dreams…

“I love you; you love me.”

“Oh lord, we both know that’s not true.”

“I wish to explore it further.”

Wesley woke with a start. Illyria was everywhere. It didn’t matter what he did, because she was like a ghost he couldn’t shake. He rubbed his hand over his tired face and started to get out of bed to retrieve a glass of water, when he heard someone say his name.

“Wesley?”

His blood froze.

“No,” he whispered, closing his eyes. ‘She found me after all,’ he realized as he felt Illyria move towards him.

Illyria knelt on the end of the bed, cocking her head to the side…soft curls bouncing with the movement. She was dressed in a burgundy top and short skirt.

Fred’s clothes.

“What’s wrong?” Fred’s voice asked, piercing his heart like a blade.

“Get out,” Wesley said with barely contained emotion.

The bedclothes shifted as Illyria crawled up his body with feline grace and settled across his lap.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she questioned.

“Please, don’t,” he responded.

“Come on. Open those baby blues. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad.”

“Why are you doing this?” Wesley sighed, opening his eyes; blurry with unshed tears.

“Oh, Wesley. You poor thing,” Illyria crooned, continuing with her ruse.

“Do you find this amusing? Torturing me like this? Does it make you feel powerful?” he inquired, shaking off his grief.

Anger was more effective than grief.

Shifting back into her normal voice, she answered, “I’m not torturing you. This is merely an experiment. I want to understand you.”

Okay. Now, he was curious.

“You’re studying me?”

“Yes. You’re fascinating.”

“Really? Wow, I’m so touched,” Wesley replied, sarcastically.

“What does that mean?”

“What?”

“What you just said? You said it with a strange tone in your voice.”

“It’s called sarcasm. I’m sure it’s a foreign concept to you.”

“I’m aware of humor.”

He gave her his best menacing glare and then said, “Good. I’m not going to be funny this time. Change back, Illyria. NOW.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘no’.”

“Are you forgetting what I told you in my office?”

“I haven’t forgotten; however, your words offer me nothing but lies. Your body tells me everything I need to know.”

Wesley chose to ignore that statement.

“Change back. I MEAN it.”

She squirmed around on his lap, pleased by his body’s reaction and asked, “Why do you insist on fighting this?”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“I want to know.”

“This isn’t real.”

“What is your definition of real?”

“Something that isn’t this.”

“You haven’t answered the question. Why are you fighting so hard to conceal your feelings?”

“It’s a coping mechanism. Satisfied?”

Illyria didn’t say a word.

“Don’t want to talk anymore? Okay. Get off me and leave me alone, because I’m done with this conversation.”

She shimmered back to blue and kissed him.

Wesley was too shocked to move. For a moment he almost forgot who he was kissing, then he snapped back to reality.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, getting very angry.

“Releasing you from the pain.”

“By kissing me?”

“By letting you feel something other than grief.”

“What concern is it of yours?”

Illyria paused, momentarily taken off guard, but eventually came up with something suitable to say.

“You are no good to me in this grievous state.”

“I’m in this state, because you reopened a wound.”

She tilted her head.

“Did I truly upset you that much?”

Wesley looked away and whispered, “Yes.”

Illyria studied his face in profile. His eyes downcast, long lashes lying against high cheekbones, she could see the sadness etched into every line, curve, and shadow.

It used to repulse her-this blatant showing of grief. Somehow, though, things had changed. Illyria was beginning to feel affection for the tragic man before her.

She couldn’t stop herself as she reached out to stroke his cheek.

“Oh, my Wesley.”

There was something about her touch that felt so right. And it made him furious.

“I am not your Wesley!” he roared, flipping her onto her back.

Illyria stared up into his burning eyes, watching the rage burst out like licking flames.

Emotions were definitely interesting on Wesley. He was on fire, and she loved it.

At least he was expressing himself to her, instead of hiding behind his biting words and lies.

“I can give you what you desire.”

Wesley’s grip tightened. “Stop it, Illyria.”

“You need this.”

“You don’t know what I need.”

“Yes, I do.”

Illyria reversed their positions.

“The more you fight this, the more the want builds. It’s pointless to fight something inevitable.”

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Did you think I had forgotten what you’d done to me? You used this body to satisfy your needs. It was a most unusual experience, but I found it to be somewhat pleasing. I wish to do it again.”

She kissed his neck. “Do not deny me.” She trailed kisses down the middle of his chest and stopped at the waistband of his sweatpants. “I have grown accustomed to your scent. Share yourself with me.”

Illyria closed her eyes, lifted her chin to the ceiling and before Wesley could blink, she was completely nude.

She quickly divested him of his pants and locked her lips onto his, nearly sucking all the air from his lungs.

‘This isn’t kissing; it’s devouring,’ he thought as the naked demon continued to assault his mouth.

Illyria finally let him up for air and then in one swift move, she slid herself down on him. “I can recall a memory of this act. Fred had many fantasies, as you have, as well. Allow me to demonstrate what I’ve learned.”

She rocked back and forth, enjoying the friction her movements created. She could see colors dancing behind her closed eyes. Blood was roaring in her ears- her entire body pulsing…rising…and buzzing with pleasure.

Wesley tried not to give in to the demands of his body, but he was a male, after all, and the male anatomy had a mind of its own; especially the part that was currently encased inside tight, slick flesh. He grabbed her waist, laying Illyria on the bed and pounding into her with ferocious thrusts.

“You drive me mad…absolutely mad,” he said, grounding out each word through gritted teeth.

They fought for superiority until their climax overtook them.

He rolled off Illyria, panting from exertion. He fell into a dreamless sleep, instantaneously. When he woke, she was gone.

‘She never ceases to amaze me. I wonder what she’s going to try next,’ Wesley thought as he realized how relaxed and rested he felt.

From the shadow behind the door, Illyria observed the smirk on Wesley’s face. Letting a smile grace her usually stoic features, she slipped out, unnoticed