who requested: something from Angel with Lindsey/Angel
This isn’t about emotion. It’s not about caring. It’s about the rough sparks of passion that fly between them and the only way either of them can find to prevent a full fledged fire.
Open mouths and teeth, tongues and scraping nails trace scars, tattoos and ridges of muscle. There’s no kissing…never has been, never will be. It’s rare that their heads are even on the same vertical plane. Angel’s fingers tangle in Lindsey’s hair, knees to toe as Lindsey bobs and chokes on his cock. Lindsey’s palms press deep into the muscles of Angel’s back as he fucks in and out of Angel’s ass.
It’s never predictable this storm of sex--sometimes it’s in Angel’s office, sometimes it’s on the roof of Wolfram & Hart, sometimes it’s in the dark chrysalis of Lindsey’s car. It doesn’t matter where or when, all that matters is the need and the searing heat that pulses between them.