Chapter 21: Party of Three

Sure enough, the hotel room had a table that was set up for dinner for three. Appetizers and drinks were already laid out. At least the room was a suite. They wouldn’t be eating with a bed looming over the table. It was discreetly hidden behind a half open wooden door.

“Took you long enough. You decide to take the scenic route?” Spike was still in his wheelchair. Buffy blinked but didn’t say anything. Spike apparently didn’t trust Angelus enough to let him know that he was already healed. Or perhaps he wasn’t? Perhaps Spike had been at the limit of his capabilities when she had seen him the other night, and had lied to Buffy instead? Either way, she wasn’t going to even allude to that conversation. What Spike told Angelus was none of her business.

“Took a bit of convincing.” Angelus shrugged. “Should I apologize for keeping you waiting?”

Spike didn’t appreciate Angelus’s sarcasm. “Not me you should be apologizing to. Restaurant was getting testy about holding the table, so we came up with a compromise. They should be bringing the food up eventually, if they don’t forget about us completely. Come on in, and let’s enjoy the drinks at least.”

As he gestured expansively towards the bar, Spike nearly knocked over one of the bottles. It was only then Buffy realized that Spike had started without them. He was already more than half drunk. Perhaps that was why he had chosen to remain in the wheelchair. If he was having trouble pouring them drinks, he would probably have trouble standing, no matter how well healed he was or wasn’t.

Spilling only a little, Spike handed Angelus a glass of amber liquid. Buffy shook her head when he tried to pass another to her. It smelled nasty.

“Champagne for our girl, Spike. Wouldn’t want the Slayer to get too tipsy.”

Spike just smirked and handed Buffy a different glass and watched as she discovered that she rather liked the taste. “Right. You two love birds patch everything up then?”

Uncomfortable standing while Spike was in the chair, Buffy found a seat on the sofa. Angelus refilled all their drinks, then took a seat beside her.

“I think we’ve reached another truce.” Angelus began. “An agreement we all can live with. Except the Slayer isn’t sure what she wants to do with you, Spike. She doesn’t know you the way that I do.”

Angelus had finished his whiskey again, and this time he moved the entire cart closer to the couch so they wouldn’t have to keep getting up to refill all their glasses. He noticed that Buffy had barely touched her second glass, and casually moved some appetizers, spicy wings and some fried onion things, from the dinner table onto the drinks cart so they lay within easy reach of both Buffy and Spike. Dutifully, Spike began to munch, and the Slayer followed suit. The onions were spicier than she had anticipated, and finding no water, Buffy settled for downing her champagne instead. Angelus smiled as he refilled her glass again.

“I’ve told Buffy what’s been on my mind. That I plan on sending Dru and the others away. I think she’s almost forgiven me for what happened between the two of them. I told her she should thank you for your part in her rescue.”

Spike was relieved at the implications of that statement. Buffy hadn’t told the poof that they’d already discussed it, or that he’d been standing upright at the time. That was good. Spike was liking this girl more and more. It was nice to know that she’d sometimes take his part against her honey. Or at least that she could be discreet.

Both vampires looked at Buffy expectantly, wondering if she would she really say it.

Buffy took another swallow of champagne. It was amazing how easily it went down. It didn’t seem like she was drinking at all.

When she looked directly at Spike it was as if Angelus disappeared from the room. “Thank you, Spike. I hadn’t really thought about what must have happened after I left that night. I…I wouldn’t have asked that of anyone. I’m glad that Drusilla will be gone.” She glanced over at Angelus, then back at Spike. “But I’d be grateful if you stayed in Sunnydale.” It was heartfelt. Angelus didn’t know it, but Buffy felt that Spike was her last line of defense. Of course she wanted him to stay in Sunnydale where he could step in and protect her from her lover if necessary.

There was something seriously wrong with that statement, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure it out just then, and that thought made her giggle. Maybe she had had more to drink than she had thought.

Angelus smiled. “That’s settled then. Let’s toast the three of us.” Angelus raised his glass, then drained it. The others followed suit. Pouring refills all around, he continued.

“Here’s the bad news, Spike. Slayer says we’re not to drink her blood. Shouldn’t be much of an imposition on you, Spike, though I know you’ve tasted it. But apparently it has some addictive qualities, so it may be hard on the Slayer and myself.” At Buffy’s blush and Spike’s stare he explained. “Buffy feels a craving for it too. I explained to her that’s what we feel all the time. We’re learning to live with it. Now she will have to also. There may be some backsliding now and again, but that’s to be expected. After all, no one can forgo chocolate cake forever, just have to learn not to eat it at every meal.”

He laid his hand on her thigh, moving the skirt up and out of the way as he brushed his fingers casually over her mound. “I’m hoping that I’ll be able to keep the Slayer distracted with other things.”

Buffy was blushing furiously. It was impossible that Spike had missed the gesture. And the vampires claimed to be able to smell her arousal. Spike would know that her blood was pulsing between her thighs. Angelus had made it abundantly clear what type of distraction he was talking about. It had been more than a week since they’d actually made love. Her eyes wandered to the half closed bedroom door and she licked her lips. She hadn’t expected Angelus to be so obvious with Spike just sitting there. Plus this frank discussion of her own craving for a taste of the aphrodisiac in her blood was only making it worse.

As if reading her mind, Angelus moved to stand behind Buffy, nuzzling her throat. “Spike, why don’t you go downstairs and check on the Slayer’s dinner?”

Spike began to protest that he could just as easily use the house phone, but one look in Angelus’s eyes stopped the words in his throat. He had known this was how it was going to be. Didn’t know why he thought it might be otherwise. He was just their errand boy. No better than a minion himself. Obedient for the moment, he rolled towards the door.

As soon as the door closed, Angelus pulled Buffy from the couch and into his arms, caressing her lips with his own. The kiss was soft, languorous, and left Buffy wanting more. “He’ll be gone for a while,” Angelus whispered. “Let’s go in the other room.”

Mumbling a reply, Angelus easily carried his Slayer and a second bottle of champagne into the next room. She was already tipsy, but perhaps not quite drunk enough for what he had in mind.

Slipping back into a slight brogue at the thought, he whispered in her ear as he lay her carefully on the bed. “I’ll not drink from ye lest ye say, but on ye…”

Undoing the halter top of her dress, he carefully poured a sliver of champagne between her breasts, then knelt over her to lap it up. Her first reaction was to sputter at the cold, then she gasped as his lips lapped up the liquid from her skin. Once he was sure he had licked up the last traces of champagne from her flesh, he filled his mouth with more directly from the bottle, then quickly covered the Slayer’s mouth with his own, letting the champagne spill from his lips to hers. The familiar action spurred the Slayer to swallow greedily, so he did it again and again, nearly humming as she moaned her pleasure and ground her body against his. So much for her protestations of not wanting to taste her own blood from his lips.

Suddenly seeming tired of the game, Angelus flipped her so that she was the one on top, and helping her remove her sodden dress, handed her the remnants of the second bottle of champagne. Without missing a beat she took one swig from it, then ripped open his shirt and poured the cool liquid onto his bare chest. Licking with kitten laps, she slowly moved lower, pouring the bubbling liquid, and lapping it up.

Caressing her eager form he moved around behind her and stroked the perfect globes of her ass as he removed her soaking panties. A quick glance at the clock showed him it was nearly ten already. He had promised the Slayer’s Mom that she’d be home by midnight. They were running out of time.

Nuzzling the scars on her throat while fingering her clit, Angelus waited until he heard her sigh before gently slipping into her from behind. No rough and tumble for his girl tonight. This was going to be long and slow, not hard and fast. He was going to make her beg for release.

Grinning, he finally heard the other sound he’d been waiting for. The rustle of carts through the suite door as Spike and the waiter returned with the main course. He waited until he heard the man leave, then called to Spike.

Angelus could tell that Spike was in a bad mood. This was going to be fun. “Close the door for me, will you Spike?”

Swearing lightly under his breath, Spike moved to comply, but Angelus’s words stopped him. “No, Spike. You’re to stay on this side – with us.”

Spike swallowed heavily as surprise was quickly replaced with anticipation. He swallowed again and licked his lips, staring at the couple intertwined on the bed. “You want me to watch?”

“No. I want you here.” Angelus’s voice was husky, and tinged just slightly with the Irish.

Wasting no time, Spike quickly threw his shirt over his head and rolled the chair closer until he could climb onto the bed. Angelus hadn’t specified, so he chose the side of the bed next to the Slayer. He unzipped himself, but getting the pants off without revealing the state of his injury to Angelus was going to be a bit of a problem.

Up close Spike could tell that the Slayer’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, but she remained unprotesting as he slid into bed next to her. The two of them lay on their sides, Angelus gently pumping into the Slayer from behind in a position sometimes known as the lazy man’s screw. It was a position Spike knew Angelus did not normally favor – it was far too gentle for his tastes, but it did leave Buffy in a position where she was facing Spike, her front totally exposed. Fondling the rosy peaks of her breasts, he fleetingly wondered if it was intentional.

Bending to his work, Spike noted that her skin tasted like champagne. Her eyes opened again briefly at this new sensation, and she smiled lazily at Spike, then let her eyes close in ecstasy as he took her pebbled teat into his mouth. Suckling at her breasts, he let his hands move lower, to where Buffy and his sire were intimately joined.

The Slayer writhed between their two male bodies, a long slow struggle towards climax. This position didn’t provide enough clitoral stimulation to allow for a quick culmination. Obligingly Spike caressed her pussy lips with his left hand, stroking her engorged nub with his fingers, and occasionally dipping lower where he could feel his sire’s length plunging in and out of her core. Glancing over Buffy’s shoulder’s and into his sire’s eyes, Spike knew what he was expected to do, and letting go of her breast he slid lower down the Slayer’s body.

As he neared his goal, Angelus tilted Buffy’s top leg back, opening her to his view. The sight of her was breath taking. Her pussy lips were pink and engorged, her clitoris firm and proud, and he could watch as his sire’s cock pumped gently into her from behind. Spike could read the promise in his sire’s actions. Another time, perhaps, and they would take her front and back between them. But she wasn’t ready for that yet. He knew what he was supposed to do now. Tonight was all about Buffy. Convincing her that two lovers was better than one. Spike was all for that.

With a last lick of his lips, used his hands to open her pussy wider and ran his tongue around the line where her hair disappeared and her core began. Leaving gentle nips and tugs against the sensitive flesh he slowly worked his way closer to her center. Buffy was becoming more frenzied now, her hands in his hair urging him onward. The sounds coming from her getting louder as she continued her struggle towards orgasm.

With just a little effort now he could slip his tongue in alongside his sire’s girth, stretching her just a little bit wider. Tasting Buffy’s cream and his sire’s precum was almost enough to bring him to completion, but Spike schooled himself to be patient, knowing that his turn would come later. They were both getting close now. He moved his eyes away from the erotic dance before him and turned his attention back to teasing the walls of her vulva. As he heard her breathing begin to quicken he stopped worrying her sides and slipped his lips over her clitoris, sucking hard at the little nub.

Just as she was about to come, Spike felt his sire’s hands tear his head away from her center. Eyes blazing yellow, Spike glared over Buffy’s hips at his sire, ready to reclaim his prize. But Angelus’s hand held him still another moment, and then he heard it.

“Please. Angelus, please,” she whimpered.

Still glaring back at Spike, Angelus whispered back to Buffy. “Tell me. Tell me what you want, Buffy.” He smirked. Over the past few weeks, she had begun to associate the feel of his fangs with her own release. “Tell me what you need.”

Buffy whimpered once or twice more before managing to squeeze out the words. “Please. Please, bite me.”

Neither vampire hesitated to comply.