Pet, Part Fourteen

[thebratqueen]

PART FOURTEEN

Angel sat back in the leather-covered seats of his limousine. He watched the city pass by him as his driver aimed them towards the highway and what was to be his fifth offsite meeting that day.

He was seriously bored. Also annoyed. Tough call on which was the more intense emotion.

He pulled out his cellphone.

"Luigi's Pizza."

"Spike, why can't you answer the phone like a normal person?" Angel asked.

"Because I am not normal and I am not a person," Spike replied. "You of all people should know that."

Angel thought about making some kind of 'birds of a feather' joke but dropped it when he realized it would only backfire on him. "Where's Wesley?"

"Right here," Spike replied.

"Where's here?"

"With me."

Angel shut his eyes for a moment. "Spike, I own dungeons now. Twelve, actually."

"Let's see," Spike said, not thrown in the slightest. "Middle of the workday, Wes is your second in command… yeah we're off at the racetrack."

He wasn't going to sigh. Sighing would give Spike too much satisfaction. "Why can't you just *say* you're in his office right now?"

"Making you squirm's more fun," Spike said. "Want me to put him on?"

"No," Angel said. He sat up and began fishing for a remote control in one of the drawers of the limo's entertainment center. "He alone right now?"

"We *did* just cover the bit where *I'm* with him, right?"

"*Besides* you," Angel said. "And by the way this is *so* coming out of your hide later."

"Knew you mentioned dungeons for a reason," Spike purred. "And yeah. Nobody here but us Angel boys."

"Close his blinds and stand outside his door," Angel said. He found the remote then squinted at it, trying to read the tiny buttons. "Don't let anybody in until I tell you. And be subtle about it, would ya?"

"Right, Da," Spike said and clicked off.

Angel turned the remote over then aimed it at the entertainment center. A push of a red button brought the TV to life. A few more buttons and he was able to get the channel he was looking for.

He smiled as a full color image of Wes came into view. He was at his desk, apparently busy with paperwork.

Angel gave it a few moments to make sure Spike was done, then dialed his phone again.

"Hello, Angel."

Angel frowned. "How'd you know it was me?"

He watched as Wes cradled his phone against his shoulder. "Spike told me."

"What?"

"He said, and I quote, 'Da's going to call you. Try to act surprised or something. I'll be outside if you need me', unquote."

"I notice you're not," Angel said.

Wes wrote something down on a sheet of paper. "What?"

"Acting surprised."

"Given Spike's tone I took that to be more of a general suggestion than a direct order," Wes said, "but if that displeases you I can try it again. Perhaps answer the phone in a higher octave?"

"You know I told him to be subtle," Angel pointed out.

"Angel, it's Spike," Wes said. "For him that *is* subtle."

"Higher octave, huh?"

"I never took acting courses," Wes said. "It's the best I could come up with."

Angel settled back in his seat, watching Wes work. "I have a new toy."

Wes paused, a frown touching his eyebrows. "Should I be jealous?"

"An *electronic* toy."

"Given your family's history I'm not entirely certain that answers my question."

"Spike told you about the robot?"

"He's very chatty when he's drunk."

"When he's sober too."

"Indeed."

Angel pushed another button on the remote. The angle of the camera changed, this time giving him a view of Wes from the side. "You know you're cute when you bite the end of your pen like that."

"I do *not* - " Wes stopped, then looked around. "Where are you?"

"In my car."

Wes smiled, looking up in the direction of one of the cameras in the room. "You have a new toy."

Angel pushed another button. Now he was looking at Wes from the front. "Yup."

"Enjoying the view?"

"You could say that."

Wes's voice became a little lower. "Could I improve it for you?"

"Sit back."

Wes did as he was told. "Anything else?"

"Wouldn't kill you to undo a few shirt buttons."

"Fast or slow?"

"Surprise me."

Wes casually undid the top of his shirt, pulling the lapels apart once he was done. "Better?"

"Much," Angel said. His eyes lingered on the expanse of Wesley's chest, enjoying what the overall effect did to his neckline. "Nice shirt by the way."

"Thank you, it's one of yours."

Angel sat forward and squinted, realizing Wes didn't mean it was one of the ones he'd bought for him as a gift. "You got that out of my closet."

"Yes."

"Why?"

There was only a half-second of hesitation before Wes admitted, "I miss your touch."

"Touched you this morning," Angel said, not unkindly.

"You're not touching me now."

"Could touch you later."

"I could happily beg you for the privilege."

"I'll keep that in mind," Angel told him. "What are you doing?"

"At the moment sitting and talking with you," Wesley said, without any of the sarcasm that Spike could have given a reply like that.

"I think I want to see more of your chest," Angel said. He changed the angle again, viewing Wes now from a few feet higher than the last camera. "And what were you doing before I called?"

"Work," Wesley said. He unbuttoned the shirt entirely and untucked it from his pants. He looked around, curious. "Where are you?"

"Told you, car."

"No, I meant," Wes gestured, "which camera?"

"Does it matter?"

Now Wes was giving an intimate look, mostly directed at the phone. "I want you to have the best view."

Angel smiled. "Let me worry about my view, Wes. You do what I tell you."

"Yes, Angel."

Angel felt pretty sure he was *never* going to get tired of hearing that. "So what kind of work?"

"I had the meeting with Field and Tunley," Wes said.

"Move your right hand up and down your chest," Angel told him. "And how'd it go?"

Wes began to trail his fingers along the lean muscles that lined the path from his neck to his navel. "Well enough. I've a follow-up with them next week after the G'nar conference."

Angel watched the movement of Wes's hand, finding the rest of the world very unimportant to look at in comparison. "Think we've got a shot here?"

"I think you'll be satisfied."

Angel grinned. "You haven't disappointed me yet. Start pinching yourself."

Wes obeyed, moving his fingers over to his nipples. "Yes, Angel."

Angel watched the lines around Wes's face soften. "Say that again."

"Yes, Angel."

"Good boy."

A faint smile touched Wes's lips.

Angel brushed a fingertip of his own across the monitor. Then a thought caught up with him. "Did he look at you?"

"Pardon?"

"Tunley. Did he look at you?"

Wes's hand stopped as a look of confusion crossed his face. He remembered to obey Angel's commands and resume touching himself before he asked his question. "I'm sorry, did he - what?"

"*Look* at you."

"During the meeting?"

"Yeah."

"Well he…." Wes tried to puzzle it out. "He didn't *not* look at me. The meeting lasted over an hour, he didn't exactly stare at the walls."

"Not what I meant," Angel said. "And undo your pants. Did he *look* at you?"

Wes's hand moved down to work at his belt buckle. "Forgive me, Angel, I don't understand."

"Tunley *looks* at you," Angel said, remembering the meetings with him and Wes that he'd sat in on. "I don't like it."

Understanding dawned on Wesley's face. "Ahh, you meant *look* at me - "

"Yeah."

" - improperly," Wes finished.

"Right."

Belt taken care of, Wes unbuttoned then unzipped his fly. "No."

"You sure?"

Wes laughed. "Angel, he didn't."

Angel clicked the remote again. "Push your chair back. Maybe half a foot."

Wes did as he was told. "Is that better?"

Angel tried another camera, then nodded with satisfaction as he was able to see all of Wes, undone clothes and all. "Yeah. Now touch yourself."

"In or out?" Wesley asked.

"In," Angel said, enjoying a good tease. "For now."

Wes moved his hand into his open fly and began to stroke himself.

Angel watched through half-lidded eyes, feeling his own cock begin to stir. "He looks at you."

"He does no such thing," Wesley replied, his voice softer now, and husky.

"He does," Angel said. "I've seen him do it. He *touches* you."

"We shook hands!" Wesley protested.

"I don't mean that," Angel said. He shifted position, then decided he wanted Wes to do the same. "Spread your legs more. And he touches you with his eyes."

Angel heard the catch in Wes's breath as his fingers touched a sensitive spot. "He's not a demon."

"Don't mean literally," Angel said. "Mean he looks at you and he's fucking you with his eyes. He's not allowed to do that."

"I've seen no such thing," Wesley told him.

"He does it."

"I'm sure he didn't."

"Take your cock out."

"Yes, Angel."

Angel watched Wes's fingers move up and down the hardening shaft. "That's mine."

"Yes, Angel."

"He can't have it."

"I don't want him to have it."

"He *can't*," Angel said, stressing this. "It's not up to you, Wesley, it's up to me. You know I could tell you to go suck off every man in that office if I wanted you to."

Wes's tongue touched his lips. "Are you going to?"

"That's for me to know," Angel said. "I own you. I do whatever I want with you."

Wes was breathing faster now. "I know."

"You're my property," Angel said, knowing Wes got off on hearing it. "You don't make these decisions anymore. I do."

"Yes, Angel."

"*Mine*."

Wes swallowed. "Angel - "

"Slow it down."

Wes's hand began to move up and down in a crawl. "I want you."

"I can see that," Angel said. "Did you know your cock looks great like that? You're damned pretty when you're hard."

"Thank you."

"I fuck you with my eyes all the time, Wes," Angel told him. "Whenever I look at you. *Every* time I look at you."

Wes made a quiet sound as he bit his lower lip.

"Like right now," Angel said. "I'm watching your mouth and thinking of what my cock would feel like inside of it."

Wes's lips parted as he took in a shuddering breath. "Come home. Find out."

"I'm going to a meeting now," Angel said, "And I want you there. I want you underneath the table as I'm surrounded by twenty demons I couldn't give a shit about and I don't care because I've got my Wesley sucking me off."

Wes moved to stand. "I'll - "

"Sit."

Wes obeyed.

It was a long moment before Angel reminded himself it would be too dangerous to allow Wes to go through with that impulse. He filed the obedience away for future reference. "Good lad."

"Thank you."

"Squeeze yourself harder."

Wes's hips moved forward on the chair. "Angel - "

"Nobody's allowed to fuck you with their eyes except me," Angel said. "Not if I don't allow it. You're my property. Somebody does that then they're insulting me."

"Yes, Angel."

"Nobody can look at you if I don't say so," Angel continued. "Nobody can *touch* you without my say so. This isn't up for discussion. It just *is*. You got that?"

"Yes, Angel."

"If I find out Tunley looked at you I'm ripping his eyes right out of his head."

"Angel," Wes gasped, but Angel knew it wasn't an unhappy one. "That's - you shouldn't - "

"Not up to you."

"I - yes, but - "

"No buts," Angel told him. "No 'no's either. You get one word, Wes, and it's…?"

Wes's hips were moving again. "Yes, Angel."

"Good boy," Angel said. "Now touch the tip of your dick and tell me what you're thinking about."

A smile flickered over Wes's face as though he was considering responding with a joke, but ultimately he said, "You."

"Good boy. What else?"

Wes's eyes were closed. A dreamy expression was on his face. "Your hand touching me like this. Making me hard. Making me hot."

"Be a good boy and say something dirty to me."

"Fuck me," Wes said, his voice rough and scratchy. "Good and hard. So hard I can *feel* it. I want you to take me. I want you to *fuck* me. Fuck me so hard - "

Angel watched as Wes's arousal made his words a little more honest than usual. "Go on."

"I…"

"Go on, Wesley."

A flush colored Wes's face. "I - I don't - "

"I'm fucking you," Angel said, his own dick aching at this point. "I'm fucking you so hard you can't stand it, so hard you're begging me for more. So hard that - "

Wes was sweating now, his hand moving faster. "That - "

"That?"

Ragged breaths were going in and out of Wes's lungs. "That - "

"Don't you dare come."

"Angel, *please*."

"I'll leave you like this all fucking day if I want to," Angel reminded him. "Your whole body belongs to me."

"Yes," Wesley gasped out. "*Please*."

Suddenly Angel knew how to translate that. "I fuck you so hard I *hurt* you, don't I?"

Wes nodded, nearly dislodging the phone from his ear. "Yes. Angel, *please*."

"Do you want marks, Wes?" Angel asked. "Is that it? You want me marking that pretty skin?"

"Yes, Angel, *please*."

Angel was rock hard now but no way was he going to ruin his suit to take care of it. Instead he channeled it all into his voice, watching Wes get closer and closer to the edge as he heard it. "What do you want, hum? Bruises? Scratches? Cuts? More?"

"*Anything*," Wes moaned. "Dear God, Angel, anything."

"Think I don't have that planned, Wes?" Angel asked him. "Think I don't have all kinds of ideas how of to make sure everybody knows you're mine?"

"Please…"

"Be my good boy, Wes," Angel told him. "Be obedient and perfect and do everything I say and I'll make sure nobody doubts who you belong to."

Tremors were going through Wes's body now. He was close enough Angel could practically taste it. "Please. I - please."

"Such a good boy," Angel said. "Who's not going to come until I tell him to, right?"

"No, Angel," Wesley said, his body so wrapped in arousal now he was practically talking in a stutter.

"Would you do anything I said, Wes?" Angel asked him. "What if I told you to get on your knees?"

Wes moved to drop down to the ground. "Yes, Angel."

"Stay where you are," Angel said. He smiled, completely enchanted by the view. "God do you exceed expectations. Such a good boy, Wes. Think you'd like a collar?"

Wes practically hummed with need. "Angel - yes. Please. Yes."

"You'd look pretty with a collar," Angel said, tracing his finger over the image of Wesley's neck. "Something nice. Made of leather. Rest against your skin and make you think of me every time you breathed."

"I already do."

Angel smiled at that. "See why I like you?"

Wes almost looked shy at that. "I - thank you."

"How close are you now?"

"Very."

"Still thinking of me fucking you?"

"Yes."

"Nice and deep?"

"Yes."

"So hard you ache? So hard you feel it in your bones? So hard I'm bruising your hips with my hands as I just fuck you again and again and - "

"*Angel*!"

Angel smiled. "Want me?"

"Yes," Wes said.

"Wanna kiss me?"

"Always."

"How long do you think you can stay like this?"

Wes whimpered. "I - "

"Stay like this," Angel told him. "All day. Don't answer calls, don't leave your office, don't do anything but sit there and stay this hard and think of me. Can you do that?"

"All day?" Wes asked, sounding helpless.

"Until I get home," Angel assured him. He checked his watch. He knew Wes could handle it. "Stay like that until I'm back in the office and if you do I'll fuck you so hard everyone in the lobby will hear you scream. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Angel," Wes said, the words a needy moan.

"Good boy," Angel said. "Who owns you?"

"You, Angel."

"Who gets to fuck you?"

"You, Angel."

"What will I do to anyone who touches you without my permission?"

"Probably kill them dead."

"That's right," Angel told him. "Now keep giving me that sexy view and I'll be back to take you later."

"Angel?"

"Yeah, Wes?"

"Can I still suck your cock?"

Okay, definite stroke session before the meeting. No denying it now. "Yeah, Wes. You can."

On the TV screen, Wes smiled. "Thank you."

Angel gave him a quick possessive growl. "Later," he promised.

He hung up the phone and jerked himself off to the sight of Wesley doing things Angel once thought would happen only in his imagination.

Reality, he decided, was *much* better.