Wedding Bell Blues—Chapter 9


It was amazing what a little application of magic could do.

Although nobody saw her do it, Tara waved her finger and magicked up some decorations and a cake. Guilt coursed through her, because she had castigated Willow for doing the same thing, but she knew that it was needed, and therefore of the good. Anya and Xander laughed like children at the sight of the white bells on the porch, the streamers decorating the living room and dining room, and the cake on the dining room table.

Everyone was standing around admiring the decorations while they cut cake and talked, and Spike found his hand captured in the Slayer’s. She pulled him toward the hallway, sneaking toward the closet door under the stairs.

She opened it quietly, then pulled him inside, glad that she’d had the forethought to clean out the small space. She pulled him to her, her mouth hungry for his, and he allowed her to be the aggressor, her hands skimming his body and cupping his asscheeks, pulling him closer to the heat he knew was about to consume her.

“Have to be quiet, pet. Can’t scream.”

“I know. I’ll find something to stuff in my mouth.”

He thought of a dozen replies, each one dirtier than the next, then all thought deserted him as she slipped her hand into his pants to stroke his cock and teased his balls.

“Come on, Big Bad. You seem awful quiet for a villain. What are you going to do with me now?”

“God, Buffy. I’m going to shag you until neither one of us can walk.” He buried his face in the tender spot behind her ear, licking and sucking it until her moan rumbled against his chest. “Cor, pet, love you so much.”

His admission sent a shiver down her spine and into her clit. “Love you, Spike. Love you, too. Please…?”

He knew what she was asking for, and he obliged her. Sitting her firmly on the shelf behind her, he tugged on the silk panties until they parted at the seams, then tucked them into the pocket of his duster for later. She lifted her skirt, wrapping her legs around his waist, and drew him slowly toward her. He purred when he heard his zipper being lowered, her hand reaching inside his jeans for his already hard cock. Her scent slammed into his nostrils, and he grew in her hand.

She teased them both by rubbing his velvety head against her juices, over her clit, the pressure not great enough to relieve her building tension. Completely in control, she brushed him against her until she thought she would explode, then positioned him at her entrance, her legs closing around him and bringing him home.

He almost yelled, she was so hot. Hot, tight, wet—adjectives burned through his mind, searing her memory on his cells as she drew him in deeper, closer, their crisp curls merging and meshing in a tangle as she started to rotate her hips. His cockhead raked against the hard bump of her cervix, and he tried to withdraw, afraid of hurting her. She locked her ankles behind him, unwilling to let him have even a bare amount of movement.

She flexed the muscles buried deep inside her, and he panted unnecessarily at her strength. Clenching against him, her peak coming closer to the surface with every spasm of her muscles, every movement of her hips, she whispered, “Spike, come closer. Baby, I’m gonna come. Now, baby…now….”

He leaned forward, and she reached to bite his neck before he could claim her mouth to swallow her screams. He stood still, her teeth worrying his siring scar, and couldn’t control the spasms that rocked his body or the jets that erupted from the end of his cock.

Breathless, he pulled away from her, and she shivered. “Don’t stop, lover. Coming close…maybe I’ll let you move now….”

She loosened her grip on his waist, and he began moving inside her slowly, angling himself to rub the nerves buried deep inside her as well as hitting her cervix with every move. She tore at his shoulders with her fingers, the scent of his blood flooding the closet, and she gushed clear fluid over his cock when the scent hit her nose. She brought her fingers to her mouth, and licked his blood off of them, and he almost came at the sheer erotic bliss the sight offered his demon.

He felt his face change, his fangs flowing into his mouth, and saw Buffy clearly for the first time in the dark. Her hair was falling down around her face; her eyes were wide, pupils dilated with desire and darkness. She raised her hand to his cheek, and felt his ridges, and said, “Yes, lover. Bite me. Make me yours. Now and forever.”

He stopped moving. “Are you sure, Buffy?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I missed this. I don’t want to ever lose it.”

“Not if I can help it, pet.” He kissed her gently, mindful of his fangs, and tasted his blood on her tongue. “Bite me too.”

She nodded, suddenly nervous, and pulled him closer to her. He started thrusting into her harder, brushing his hands over her legs, the globes of her ass. She reached under his shirt, her hands all over his back as he sucked the skin on her neck, where the ponce had bitten her once. There would be no other bites for his Buffy, none but his, he thought to himself.

It built, catching them both unawares, raging through them like wildfire as it caught on their passion. She caught her breath in her throat, and as her orgasm consumed her, she clamped down on his scarred skin as before. Her bite was stronger, and she bit through, his blood gushing onto her tongue. It wasn’t unpleasant, she thought, before the magick hit them both.

Spike slipped his fangs into her neck in time with his thrusts, and his guts twisted when the Slayer’s blood rushed down his throat and into his system. His demon well satisfied with the taste, he sucked at her neck hungrily, his cock slamming into her as she spasmed around him. When she bit him, it drove him over his carefully controlled edge, and he growled, then gritted, “Mine, Slayer. Mine.”

“Yours, vampire. Mine forever.”

“Always yours, Buffy.” The magick forced them to come again in unison, and this time they couldn’t hold back the screams.

They heard a small knock in the sudden silence in the closet and in the house. “Buffy? Are you okay?”

The door opened before she could reply, and she looked into the faces of her friends, family, and Watcher.