"Never," he says, rising from his seat to face her. "What you're doing? You, like this? It sickens me."
Smiling her sweetest Fred-like smile, she approaches him. "Oh lord, we both know that ain't true."
"Stop it!" Wesley warns, avoiding eye contact with the coy demon. "Change back, be blue...be anything," he cuts his eyes over to her, "but don't be her."
He starts to walk away, and she stops him.
"You want this, Wesley. Do not lie. I can feel the heat radiating from you. I'm drawn to it. You desire me."
Illyria takes a fist-full of his sweater and pulls his lips down to meet hers. He tries to fight her, at first, but despite his better judgment, he ends up returning the kiss.
Lifting her from the floor, he spins them around, knocking books and papers off as he deposits her onto the desk.
Wesley leaves her mouth and rains kisses down her neck, making short work of the top and bra to attack one perky breast with teeth and tongue. She runs her fingers through his hair and lets the new sensations take over. He sucks and nibbles on each small creamy globe, and then pushes the short min-skirt up, yanking the delicate silk panties off.
Pushing a finger inside, he finds her wet and ready.
Wesley undoes his pants.
Illyria gasps as he slides into her.
Something coils in her belly, and instincts tell her to wrap her legs around his waist. They kiss and bite and claw at each other like animals until, finally, they come together in an explosion of orgasmic pleasure.
Once he regains control of his breathing again, Wesley extracts himself from her embrace, letting the full weight of what just transpired sink in.
Illyria changes back to blue, hops off the desk and makes her way towards the door. She pauses and turns to address him. "That was most satisfying. I look forward to other such experiences."
And with her parting words, she exits the office.