TITLE: Dust Bunnies Can Be Deadly
EMAIL: lex@bitchenvy.com
SPOILERS: Angel, "City of"
SUMMARY: BADFIC. Cordelia discovers Doyle's demon side at a rather inopportune moment.
DEDICATED: To Tamara, because she's sick and needs a few happies

With a quick sweep of his arm, Doyle had the desktop cleared off and the brunette in his arms perched on top of it. Cordelia was luscious, all rounded curves and sweet smelling flesh, and he had to have her right then. He couldn't even wait until they made it downstairs to the relative comfort of a bed. No, time was of the essence, and he needed to be inside her as soon as inhumanly possible.

She clung to his shoulders, her mouth sealed to his as he worked her skirt up her thighs. His brain nearly melted when he discovered that only a teeny tiny thong had been covering her all day long.

"Delia," he groaned into her mouth, "Delia, you're goin' to kill me one day."

She tilted her head back and smiled wickedly. "Like you don't get off on it..." Then she whimpered as his searching fingers found her aroused flesh, her succulent moisture wetting him thoroughly.

"Doyle, please," she begged, her hands sliding around his back, dipping down beneath the waistband of his pants to cup his ass.

He ground himself against her, relishing the way her head fell back and her eyes shut. Unable to stand it a moment longer, Cordelia attacked the zipper of his pants, yanking them roughly away from his cock. He winced, her hands not precisely gentle as she drew him from the constricting cloth. And then he was free, and her hands were petting him, and it was all he could do not to come right then.

"Now," he muttered, drawing her hands away. She wrapped them around his neck as she folded her legs around his hips, holding on to him. With his forehead pressed to hers, he slowly slid inside, accustoming her to his girth.

"Doyle," she sobbed, trying to roll her hips to gain more of him.

But he was ruthless, controlling her movements with restraint he hadn't known he possessed. He thrust shallowly at first, delighting in her sobs and moans of pleasure, then gradually picked up speed until he was slamming her against the desk. She would have bruises the next day, but she didn't care; nothing else mattered besides the feeling of him inside her, rasping over swollen, aroused flesh. Cordelia slid her right hand down her torso, to her clit, which she started to rub in time with his thrusts.

Just then, a piece of a dust bunny disturbed when he had shoved everything off the desk floated through the air, stopping to tickle his nose. With something akin to horror, he felt the sneeze build up from his toes.

Gripping Cordelia's pumping hips tightly, Doyle turned his head to the side and loosed a massive sneeze. Her eyes had been shut until then, but when she heard him sneeze, she opened them.

And screamed.

And then screamed some more.

The decibel level assaulted Doyle's ears even as he sneezed again, trying desperately to hold on to her suddenly hostile form.

"Damn you, Doyle, I KNEW there had to be something freaky about you!!! A demon that looked sooooo human, I knew there had to be something! Oh, that's so gross!! Get off of me!" she shrieked, her fists beating against his chest.

At the sound of the first scream, Angel was dragged from a peaceful sleep and a really good dream about Buffy, some leather, and a whole lot of wild fucking. He shook his head to make sure the scream hadn't come from Dream-Buffy, but then it happened again.

It was Cordelia.

He was on his feet seconds later. He dove up the stairs, intent on getting to her and saving her from whatever it was that was making her scream. The sight of Doyle's naked ass stopped him for a second, but another ear splitting shriek from Cordelia propelled him forward.

"Cor, what the hell is going on?"

Cordelia peeked around Doyle's straining body. "Angel, get him OFF ME! He's all freaky and he won't let me go!"

Angel looked at Doyle and saw his demon face, which had to be the cause of Cordelia's screaming fit. "Doyle, man, shake it off!"

"I canna, until she stops screamin' bloody murder."

Cordelia opened her mouth, drawing in air to assault them again. Angel's one hand clamped over her mouth, while his other hand covered her eyes. "Hush," the vampire whispered. "Just be quiet for one minute, and Doyle will be back to norm--OW!"

He whipped his hand away from her mouth, only to see blood pouring from the bite mark on his finger. "Damn it, Cordelia, what did you do that for?"

Doyle suddenly shook his head, and his face returned to its far more pleasing human countenance.

Angel took his hand from Cordelia's eyes, so she could see him glaring at her. "What the hell did you bite me for?"

Eyes narrowed, she ignored Angel and snarled at Doyle. "GET. OFF. ME. NOW."

Doyle groaned, even as his hips bucked forward. "Christ, Delia, I'm so close...it would be cruel to make me stop now..." He turned to Angel for help.

Angel shrugged. "It is kind of mean, Cor."

"You think I want to have sex with you after I saw YOUR HEAD do that freaky Hellraiser pincushion thing? Are you out of your little pea brain? As if!"

Even as she berated him, Doyle thrust forward a few more times, gaining just enough friction to send him over the edge, coming gratefully into her no longer welcoming depths.

Angel closed his eyes. He had no desire to see one of his business partners seizing and jerking into the other.

"Ewww, gross much?"

Angel silently echoed the sentiment.

"Now will you get off me? Now that you've had *your* fun?" Cordelia sounded seriously peeved, and Angel didn't know how Doyle was going to manage to get back into her good graces.

"This is the last time I ever let you get near my--ooooooh..."

The sound of a low, sensual moan coming from Cordelia's lips made Angel's eyes snap open.

Doyle was on his knees. His hands were grasping her hips, his head was between her thighs. *Her* hands were running frantically through his hair, while her body arched backwards, thrusting her pelvis towards his mouth.

And she had definitely stopped complaining.

Angel had no desire to see that. Wincing, he fled to the safety of the basement. He crawled back into bed, drew the covers over him, and tried to fall back asleep. With any luck, Dream-Buffy would still be there waiting for him.