Title: Surrender
Author: tnbella(illyriajunior@earthlink.net)
Dedication: This story is dedicated to Lara and Louise from weslyria.
Disclaimer: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Illyria belong to Joss Whedon and ME
Rating: R-for adult situations
Spoilers: Not Fade Away from S5 of Angel
A/N: Pretend for a moment that Wesley fought alongside Angel and the others. This is set right after the Big Battle in the alley, and it’s how I would have ended the finale. (Lara, that wallpaper gave me this idea. Louise, you wanted me to write something humorous. Well, here you go. I hope you ladies enjoy it.)
She moved closer; he moved closer.
The sky lit up with electricity as their lips met in a torrent of water and mixed blood.
They surrendered to the heat. They surrendered to the love. They surrendered to each other.
His hands roamed over her wet-slicked hair while his mouth battled with hers.
They kissed until the need to join became too intense. Dropping to their knees, together, the former God and her Guide began peeling away the layers of clothing between them. Wesley pulled out of the kiss to shuck out of his jacket and pull off his sweater. He went to help her out of her own, when she stilled his movement. Illyria’s bodysuit had become torn in the war, and it practically disintegrated when she touched the center portion, making it disappear, instantly.
Wesley looked at the lightly bruised, blue line of her neck; recalling how he had bandaged it for her a few hours prior to the battle. He trailed delicate, butterfly kisses across her shoulders and collarbone, marveling at the notion that such a tiny body could be so powerful. He had looked on with pride, watching her kick and punch and destroy any creature that came her way.
She truly was an amazing warrior…and now, Wesley had come to realize he'd developed strong feelings for her.
Illyria had worked her way into his heart. And speaking of working, she was currently trying desperately to figure out how to undo the zipper on his jeans.
“How do I remove this offensive metal fastening?” she asked, clearly irritated with the tiny object that refused to cooperate with her.
Trying to repress the chuckle that was rising to the surface, Wesley answered, “Just pull it straight down and the pants will release.”
Illyria nodded her head; understanding his explanation and doing as he instructed, and then proceeded to yank the denim completely off him, effectively ruining the jeans.
“Illyria, that was unnecessary. I could have removed them the rest of the way.”
She ignored his statement.
“It was concealing a portion of your anatomy that I am curious about. I am most pleased with what I see.”
Wesley blushed slightly under her scrutiny. “I’m…uh…happy you’re pleased.”
Before he could say anything further, Illyria leaped up and kissed him, ravenously. They landed on the ground with a loud ‘thump’, followed by an ‘ow’ when Wesley’s head hit the pavement.
Illyria seized her attack on his mouth when he called out in pain.
She surveyed his head and then said, “I do not see any sign of injury. We can continue,” before kissing him, yet again.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle. The storm was over, the battle was done, and life would go on. It was time to celebrate, and Illyria knew exactly what kind of celebrating she wanted to do.
She sat up, running her hands over his chest--working her way down, down, down…stopping when she reached his hardening member.
“I wish to have this inside me,” Illyria stated, closing her fist, tightly, around the warm flesh.
Wesley gritted his teeth and tried to think of a quick way to calm her before she damaged him. “If you will be so kind as to loosen your grip, I would be happy to oblige.”
Illyria considered this for a moment and then let up on the pressure.
Wesley sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
He leaned forward and shifted them into position. Holding her hips in place, he entered her.
Illyria gasped and on instincts she didn’t think she had, she began rocking back and forth in pleasure. She embraced Wesley, and they drank from each other’s lips while their bodies danced in tandem. Strong muscles clenched around him, and her blunt nails dug into his back--almost painfully--as she screamed through her release. Wesley soon joined her and once they were both too exhausted to remain upright, the two lovers collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Are you all right?” he asked, moving her sweaty, slightly damp hair from her face.
“Oh yes, very much so. I have no words to describe the sensations I just experienced.”
He smiled and wound a lock of sapphire blue hair around his finger. “That means you enjoyed it.”
Illyria relaxed in his arms and quietly slipped off to sleep.
“Rest now. Tomorrow will come soon enough,” Wesley whispered to the precious creature that taught him how to love again.