To be fair, Angel had been talking women into his bed for his entire life after puberty and she had tangled herself with Doyle fairly quickly. He understood the drawing power of letting his old accent slip through. The 1900's were over and being Irish wasn't a sin anymore.
His grin stayed wicked as he leaned his head back towards her mouth slightly, but encouragingly. Angel bucked back against her, slipping to the left and behind to switch their positions, pressing himself against her and them both against the wall. Angel brought her hands up, mimicking the hold she had him in, but he could hold with one large hand. It left his other hand to curve over the back of her hip and down her stomach, fingers drifting just above her pant line.
"If I'm so horrible, are you sure you want to feel me in action again?" He whispered the word along the back of her neck.
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His grin stayed wicked as he leaned his head back towards her mouth slightly, but encouragingly. Angel bucked back against her, slipping to the left and behind to switch their positions, pressing himself against her and them both against the wall. Angel brought her hands up, mimicking the hold she had him in, but he could hold with one large hand. It left his other hand to curve over the back of her hip and down her stomach, fingers drifting just above her pant line.
"If I'm so horrible, are you sure you want to feel me in action again?" He whispered the word along the back of her neck.