DISCLAIMER: I wrote this type of smut for a friend who wanted Buffy to return this way. (You'll understand that comment when you finish this) There is a reason for it. So, suspend your belief. I hope it isn't horrible. :)



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He pushed her against the bed and she lay back, shaking a little. He kept one hand on her, trying to anchor her against the Alliance, and with the other he worked his belt and jeans, finally slipping them down just enough for his erection to spring free. He saw her eyes widen when she saw the size of him and smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation. He slipped a finger into his mouth, moistening it, then slid it along her cleft, dipping inside to test her.

She was already wet and his smile lingered.

Buffy saw the expression on his face and pushed her legs closed. "Are you lying to me to get in my pants?"

"No. And you aren’t wearing pants."

"I’m not kidding! If you’re doing this to -" The tingling was more pronounced now and she shook her head, wild eyed. "He’s really trying, Spike. I can feel him."

Wasting no time, he pulled her legs apart and thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out in pain and pushed her hands against his hips, trying to hold him back. "Wait!"

"Stop, Buffy," he growled, slamming into her again. "He’s not getting you."

"Oh god." She hissed as he picked up the pace. She could feel herself rending, tearing. "Spike, please -"

He let the demon break free and gazed down at her. Her skin was tanned except for the areas that had been covered by her bikini. He licked his lips and leaned forward, laving one pink nipple, then the other. His tongue traced her tan line, tasted the salt of her skin and it almost pushed him over the edge. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. "It’s time, love," he whispered.

She whimpered, feeling her body attempt to stretch enough for him. She wasn’t ready. It was almost as painful as the first time with Angel. No, it was actually more painful. What had happened? How could she feel so - virginal? And how could she still want him despite the pain? "Hurts," she murmured, trying to hold his hips again.

"Turn your head."

"Please stop moving!"

He stilled and leaned down low, licking the artery in her neck. He felt her tense and bit into her, pulling her blood roughly. The chip in his head zapped a little, but seemed to recognize that it was not bloodlust driving him, that he didn’t want to kill her. No, he wanted to save her.

He heard her gasp and cry out, then felt something completely astonishing. She climaxed, her inner muscles squeezing hard on his cock as she surged up against him. That was unexpected. Most mortals didn’t have that reaction to their life's blood seeping away. He pulled his fangs free and bit into his own wrist, watching as his blood splashed against her neck, her chin.

"When I come, drink."

She was still trying to come down from her own orgasm, but she nodded her understanding. He slammed against her, hard, fast and furious. She was tighter than he could have imagined and he was almost certain that he had felt something inside her, like a barrier. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? She was hot, too. Her flesh felt like an inferno wrapped around him and god, it was perfect. He’d had many dreams of this moment, but they paled in comparison.

It was real.

It was amazing. She was finally his.

He was close, so close. He pulled one of her legs over his shoulders, angling deeper still and grunted, nodding at her.

She latched onto his wrist, sucking hard as he pumped into her. His blood was cool and slid easily down her throat. He shouted her name, his hips hammering relentlessly, and then she could feel him swelling and his seed splashing against her womb.

"That’s enough, love." He pulled his wrist free and used his thumb to wipe away the blood on her chin. Leaning down, he used his tongue to rid the blood on her lips, then kissed her, his hands plowing into her drying hair.

She cried out again as he moved inside her and he pushed up on his elbows. "Are you okay?"

Was she? she wondered. He had taken her without preamble and she hadn’t been ready for him. She moved him aside and he slipped from her, grumbling as he did so. She sat on the edge of the bed, then looked down between her thighs. She was bleeding. Not much, but enough to stain the inside of her legs.

Spike moved next to her and followed her gaze. "What the hell?"

"It hurt."

"You’re not a soddin’ virgin."

"It felt like I was."

He pondered that for a second, then went into the bathroom and wet a cloth. Kneeling between her thighs, he bathed away the blood and the traces of their coupling. "You sure it’s not your per-"

"I know when my period is, Spike. Just had it last week." Embarrassed, she pulled her robe over her thighs. "It’s because you hurt me. You didn’t let me get ready. Foreplay is-"

"I should kiss it better then, hmm?"

She gasped when he pulled her to the edge of the bed and pushed her legs open. Her mouth would not comply and tell him to stop and her eyes wouldn’t look away as he slipped the cool rag against her flesh again, showing her that it came away clean, then he lowered his head. She watched as his tongue darted out and rubbed against her. In that moment, she realized that she had been aching for it, for him to touch her, to know her this way. She had been begging him to without realizing it.

Spike parted her flesh, gently, and tasted her. She was perfect.

Buffy’s head fell back and she whispered his name, gasping as he slipped his finger into her. "Oh god."

He loved her slowly with his mouth, nipping and suckling at her flesh until her thighs tightened on either side of his head and she bucked up against him. "Spike!" she cried, holding him against her.

After a few more caressing strokes with his tongue, he sat back on his heels and stared at her mons. "You’re healed," he proclaimed, then eased her back against the bed and covered her body with his. "Let me try again."

"But-"

"I’ll go slow."

He was extremely large. Even if she had been with him before she died it would have hurt. She acquiesced, albeit with a hint of trepidation, and nodded at him. "Okay."

And he did go slow. He eased into her, his forehead pressed against hers and barely rocked his hips at all. She let out the breath she had been holding and concentrated on the feel of him, filling her body so completely. He leaned down, kissing her thoroughly and she could taste herself on his tongue.

It drove her wild.

Hooking her heels behind his legs she arched against him. Her body responded to his like it had been made solely for him, for his pleasure. And hers. "Harder."

He complied and picked up the pace, his hips pistoning, grinding. "That’s it, love," he growled and fastened his lips over the bite mark on her neck, sucking hard.

She bucked off the bed as another orgasm, her third, rocked through her core. He gripped her hips and slammed against her, not capable of holding back for another second. Urging both legs over his shoulders, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh was the only thing louder than their moans. He gripped both of her hands holding them above her head, palm to palm with his, as he came again, her name a hoarse cry on his lips.

Spent, he collapsed over her, gently massaging the bite mark with his tongue to help close the wound. "Better?"

"God yes." Her arms were still over her head and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to move again. She found the energy to smile at him when he leaned down to kiss her. "I didn’t think -"

"What?"

"I didn’t think I had that in me."

"Well, you do. And I love it." He kissed her again, tugging her bottom lip with his teeth. "Did it hurt that time?"

"I felt like a virgin again. How is that even possible?"

"Maybe when you came back you were literally reborn. Maybe the things you did to your body before you went to heaven were erased and you came back completely whole." He nuzzled her ear. "Stranger things have happened."

"Maybe."

"I’m sorry. If I had known I would have-"

"We had to do it. Right?"

"I wanted to do it as much as we had to do it."

"Me too." She glanced over at him to see if he was as shocked by her admission as she was. For weeks she had relied on him for almost everything and it dawned on her with sudden clarity that she had sought him out because she wanted him, wanted to be with him. Part of her had known all along. Part of her had fallen the night she came back and he had held her hands, telling her how long she had been gone. Yes, it hit her like a sledgehammer and she was positive that it had nothing to do with the bonding they had shared. She had fallen just a *little* when he had let Glory beat him half to death and still wouldn't tell what Dawn was. But just a little. Now, though...

He was staring at her intently and she realized that her confession had not jarred him in the least. She swallowed hard and said, "Do you think it worked? The bond thing?"

"Yes. I can feel it inside me." He studied her face. "Can’t you?"

She stared up at him and was overwhelmed with the desire to touch every inch of him, to kiss him from head to toe, to give him everything she had to give. "I can."

"Do you hate it?"

She pulled him back down for another kiss, then flipped him effortlessly onto his back. Her robe was tossed across the room and she loomed over him, straddling his hips. "Do you hate it?"

"God, only when you stop." He watched her, shocked by the raw emotion coursing through him. "Which you should. If you really were a virgin again then-"

"Shut up, Spike. I’m the Slayer. I can take it and I can do what I want."

"Is that right?" He grinned at the cocky way she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Show me what you can do then, love."

Easing up a little, she slipped him inside her and moaned, gyrating her hips in a slow circle. "You won’t believe the things I can do, Spike."

His eyes bulged a little as she squeezed him with her vaginal muscles and leaned down, kissing him hard.

For the next few hours she showed him things that he had never dreamed possible.

They napped until noon and Buffy awoke, stretching and yawning loudly, then she smiled. Really smiled. The previous night had been incredible and the life that she had resented was suddenly exhilarating. She felt *alive* and while she still mourned for what she had lost, she also had something to live for. Finally. She rolled over and smiled at the reason. "Spike?"

"I’m not awake."

"Yes, you are."

"Stop talking to my unconscious before you wake me up."

"We have to go home."

"If you expect me to keep up with you after last night, I need rest." He kept his eyes closed. "Sun’ll be down in about six or seven hours, pet."

Buffy darted out of bed and grabbed her bag, digging inside. She pulled the talisman out and let it dangle from her fingertips. "I stole something from you once. A gem of amara. Consider my debt paid."

Spike caught it when she flung it at him and ran his thumb over the stone. "This isn’t a-"

"Not exactly, but it does the same thing. It’s like a designer knockoff. Fits just as good, looks just as good, but doesn’t have the pretty label." She held her hands up innocently. "Just try it on and walk outside."

"I’m taking a huge leap of faith here."

"After last night you can’t trust me?"

He slipped the necklace on and padded to the door, barely opening it and peering outside. Part of his face was hit with direct sunlight and he jumped back, then touched his cheek. It was fine. "Bloody hell."

Darting out into the parking lot, he stared at his hands, then up at the sun. "BLOODY HELL!"

"Spike!" Buffy stood just behind the door, hiding her nude body. "While I don’t mind the view ... I think other people might."

He looked at a couple of elderly people who were staring at him in shock, then realized why.

He was naked.

"Bloody hell," he said again, racing back to the hotel room. He kissed Buffy, then said, "Let’s go home."

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