"This is stealing, and it's wrong," Buffy tried to say firmly as she wagged her finger at Spike.
The stern effect was ruined as she burst into a fit of giggles a second later and had to clutch the door frame to keep from falling over.
"That's why it's fun, kitten," Spike told her as he helped his inebriated childe into the store. "Besides, I thought you didn't like wearing white."
"Ooo, red," Buffy said as she pushed past Spike.
Spike smiled as his tipsy childe began searching through the clothing racks.
He hadn't meant to get her drunk, the fact was she only had one drink to his three. However, their meals for the evening had been intoxicated, and that tended to affect a vampire more than the regular kind of drinking. Even Spike had a slight buzz going.
He tried to help her pick out new clothes, but she seemed to have some sort of aversion to skirts or dresses, complaining that they were impractical for fighting. Still, considering the tight black leather pants she picked out, he couldn't really complain. Besides, between his slightly intoxicated state and the painfully hard erection she'd given him at the club, he was having a hard time concentrating.
Spike's plan for drawing attention had worked beautifully. It wasn't long before the entire establishment had been buzzing with the news that William the Bloody had turned a slayer.
Spike's serious little slayer had never been the center of attention before, and didn't realized she was the one in which they were all interested in. She assumed that everyone, especially the women, were looking at Spike and became jealous. So she'd crawled onto his lap and begun nuzzling his neck, which had slowly led to her rubbing against him in all the right ways. The fact was she had spent most of the evening covering him with her scent, and marking him as hers.
Spike hardly minded. In fact he hoped news of the slayer's lap dance would make it back to the Master. Hopefully it would lead him to believe that Spike's only purpose in kidnapping and turning the Slayer was his own immediate gratification.
The advantage of having your enemy underestimate you was, after all, one of the first lessons Spike had learned as a vampire. Spike could still remember how naively his childhood 'friends' had invited him into their houses. How they had laughed at him when he'd told them he wouldn't put up with their treatment of him anymore. At least until he'd started impaling them with railroad spikes. That had pretty much put an end to their laughter.
As Spike's mind wandered, Buffy had slowly acquired a small collection of hangers so he suggested she go in the back and try on the things she'd picked out.
"Don't you want to watch me undress?" she giggled.
He shook his head. "It's more fun this way. You go try this stuff on, and then you come out and I tell you how you look."
She shrugged and headed towards the changing rooms. As soon as she left, Spike began trying to figure out how he could hide a leather mini skirt from her, and how to get her to wear it later on. Before his plan had gotten very far, he heard a quiet "Ouch," and then Buffy calling for him.
He made his way through the dark store until he found Buffy in one of the changing rooms, struggling with the zipper on her dress.
"My hair got stuck," she complained. "I told you that dresses were dangerous."
Chuckling, he moved behind her. He had no idea how she'd managed to get so much of her hair stuck in the zipper. On the other hand, he knew better than to question the ability of a drunk to get themselves into trouble.
He began to carefully pull her hair out of the zipper.
"Ouch," Buffy complained again. "Go find some scissors and just cut it," she suggested.
"Never. Just stop squirming and I'll have you free in a moment," he told her.
However, she didn't seem capable of not squirming. More than once he was ready just to yank her hair out, but slowly, strand by strand, he got her free.
To make sure she didn't repeat the incident, he decided it was safer if he undid the zipper the rest of the way himself.
As the dress slipped down over her waist, Spike saw something white fluttering out of the corner of his eye. Both he and Buffy turned automatically, to watch as Buffy's dress magically appeared in the dressing room mirror, as it came free from her body.
Suddenly Buffy pulled away from him and put her hands flat against the mirror.
"I'm gone," she whimpered.
"It's okay, luv," Spike comforted her. Feeling the distress coming from his childe, he put an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I'm not there either."
But Buffy didn't seem to be aware of him.
"I'm not real," she whispered.
Spike spun her around violently, forcing her to look away from the empty mirror. As soon as she was facing him, his lips crashed down against her as he tried to devour her with a passionate kiss.
At first her body was hard as stone in his grasp. But slowly she began to respond to his kiss. First she relaxed, then her tongue began to counter his own tongue's attacks. Finally, her hands began to grab desperately at his hair, his arms, his back, as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.
As soon as she did so, he backed her hard enough against the offending mirror to crack it. Buffy grunted slightly, but she only kissed him harder as the scent of her blood filled the air.
"Doesn't that feel real?" he asked when he finally pulled away from her eager lips.
"Yes," she quietly moaned as she rested her forehead against his.
"Good, that's all that matters, kitten. What you feel."
He took a couple of steps back so that he could set her down, without cutting her feet on the broken glass. Once he set her down, he moved behind her to make sure he hadn't hurt her too badly, and that there wasn't any glass embedded in her back.
He had intended to simply make sure she was okay and then leave to let her change. But once he got behind her and saw the tiny rivulets of blood running down her back and across the pale skin of her bottom, he forgot everything else.
He fell to his knees behind her and began licking the blood from her skin. He started with the smoother skin of her ass. Making sure to lick and suck off even the slightest hint of blood as he slowly worked his way up. The few cuts that hadn't already healed did so as his tongue delicately ran over them.
His hands, which had started on her hips, wandered up her body until they found her breasts. He could feel her nipples harden as his fingertips began to trace them.
She began to twist in his grasp, denying him her sweet essence which was still on her back. His hands moved quickly back to her hips to keep her in place.
She protested, but his mind was too clouded by blood and lust to pay much attention. When she began to squirm in his grasp, his right hand moved down her front, past her curls, and between her legs.
"Oh, Spike," she moaned as his talented fingers began to gently explore her moist folds.
Finding her wet and ready, Spike slipped his fingers inside her without even thinking. At least until he felt her flex the muscles of her tight passage and squeeze his exploring fingers.
His mouth broke away from her back as he threw his head back and moaned, "Fuck," as he imagined what it would be like to have his cock inside her.
Then he started to get up off his knees. He was no longer slowly licking her back, but eagerly cleaning the blood from her body as quickly as he could.
As he did so, his left hand began trying to free his cock from his pants. Unfortunately this wasn't a very easy thing to do while trying to stand up, lick Buffy's back, and finger her.
He stumbled forward, forcing Buffy flat against the wall. She cried out in pleasure as her sensitized clit was jammed against the palm of his hand.
Then she reached behind herself, and began to bat away the hand Spike was using to try and free himself. She took over, letting her fingers traced the outline of his straining cock, as she searched for the zipper.
Her fingers found it, and the next thing Spike knew, his cock was spilling out into her eager hands. She began to stroke his throbbing member and Spike cried out as her strong hands began to pleasure him. To make matters worse, as Buffy's body moved to the rhythm of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, her ass kept hitting the head of his cock.
Spike realized he only had once chance to take control of the situation before he came all over her. He quickly pulled his fingers out of her.
"Hey," Buffy protested, as her hand likewise let go of his erection.
That was fine with Spike, since it gave him the chance to take hold of it so he could thrust it inside her. Buffy threw her head back to scream with pleasure, and Spike used the opportunity to sink his fangs into her waiting neck.
The next thing Spike knew he was holding onto her tiny body with all his strength as she bucked and convulsed around him. It took everything he had not to come as she did her best to milk his cock, but he managed to hold out until her body had stilled beneath him.
Finally her body calmed, and Spike began to slowly thrust in and out of her, while he took small gentle draughts of blood from her throat. He wanted their first coupling after her turning to take time.
Buffy, however, had a different idea. She quickly got her second wind and placed her palms against the wall so she could push back against him. She began moving against him faster, urging him to keep pace with her.
He might have been able to resist. To reassert control over her, had she not started begging him. "Fuck me harder."
After only a few such entreaties, Spike found his body willingly obeying his childe and he began thrusting harder and harder into her, while one hand roamed down her body to tease her engorged clit.
When her second orgasm hit, Spike was helpless to do anything but follow her over the edge.
When it was over the only thing keeping them standing was the wall Spike had sandwiched Buffy against.
Slowly Spike regained control of his limbs and reluctantly pulled away from his Buffy. Stumbling back, he fumbled with his zipper again until he'd put his cock safely back in his pants. Then he began searching through his pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter.
In the meantime, Buffy managed to roll herself along the wall until she could sit on the small bench in the changing room. As she turned and sat, Spike could see the rather goofy and satisfied smile on her face. That and the way her legs were obviously refusing to function filled him with male pride.
As he took a long drag on his cigarette and looked over the very satisfied ex-slayer, he realized that if they stayed there it wouldn't be long until they started going at it again. It wouldn't have been a problem except that sunrise was only a little more than an hour away, and he didn't fancy being trapped in the store when the owner showed up.
He took a last pull on his fag, then dropped it to the floor and smothered it with the toe of his boot. Then he shrugged out of his duster and wrapped it around Buffy's shoulders.
"What. . ?" she started to ask as he thrust the clothes she'd picked out but never tried on, into her hands.
"We best be going before the sun's up, kitten," he explained.
Then he scooped her up into his arms and began to make his way out of the store and towards his car.
"Can I stay up late . . . err early?" she asked as she rested her head against his chest.
"Why?" Spike asked curiously.
It didn't really matter if he gave his permission or not. As a fledgling she was sure to fall asleep the moment the sun peeked over the horizon, no matter what he said.
"To watch cartoons," she told him.
He put her in the car then got in himself. She pulled his duster tightly about her, and rested her head against the seat. He could tell she was already feeling sleepy.
"I thought slayers didn't watch TV," he teased.
"I'm not the slayer anymore," she yawned. "Besides, my parents said I could. They had these old videos they saved from when I was a kid. I like cartoons. Some of them are silly, like the mouse with the pointy hat and all the brooms. But then there's this one with a big mean looking demon in a volcano, and the sun comes up and he goes away, so that's pretty realistic," she rambled.
Spike chuckled. "Sure, baby. You can watch cartoons." He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.
"Yay," she said sleepily as she stretched out on the front seat, and put her head in his lap.
Spike smiled and absently stroked her hair. Then he made a mental note to get up once she was asleep and set the VCR to record some cartoons for her. After all, he was pretty sure he had an hour or so left on his Passions tape and since it was the weekend, there wasn't a new episode to record anyway.
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