The table trembled, the wood groaning in protest with them. "The tables going to bust." Wrapping his arms around her, Angel straightens. He carries her this way, speared on him, his arms cradling her. They don't have a good history with furniture.

Angel moves them to the bed and lays her down. He takes a second to just look at who he was with, a hand to gently move a piece of hair out of her face. Smiling coyly, he begins moving again, his hips rolling his length into her, just like they'd promised before the pants were lost.