Buffy broke the kiss reluctantly, breathing definitely becoming an issue. Clear blue eyes gazed at her flushed face, eyes full of adoration. She almost ignited with the passion blazing in their depths. Why hadn’t she seen this before? During the whole time they’d been having sex – because there was no doubt about it, Buffy’s participation in their earlier couplings wasn’t any deeper than that – she’d avoided looking at him. Even when her eyes were on him, she’d been thinking of something else. Anything else to hide the fact that the place she ached to be was right where she was. In his arms, and in his bed.
But with her walls crumbling, she could drink in the sight of him, the way his pupils dilated and the blue of his eyes became almost violet as his ardour increased. She took the time to capture every nuance of his face and commit it to memory, the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the way they led down to his full lips, pink from his blunt teeth nibbling on them nervously. She watched his nostrils flare as he drew in unneeded air, feeling the flood of moisture between her thighs as his lids lowered and his tongue moistened his lips. She knew he could smell how much she wanted him, his sensitive vampire nose picking up the heady scent of her arousal and the knowledge set off more tingles between her legs. Buffy reached out a finger and ran it along his even brow, lingering on the scarred eyebrow and reminding herself to ask him how he got it. She liked it. She wanted to lick it. Later. Stroking down, she felt the swell of his cheek and moved onwards to rub softly over his lips which parted, eagerly awaiting her ministrations. The finger was withdrawn and replaced with her tongue and mouth, tracing the same path with moist kisses to culminate in her claiming his lips again. Spike growled, the sound hitting her right in the solar plexus and making her gasp for breath.
“Did I ever tell you I love your sexy growl?”
Spike’s eyes darkened to an unbelievable shade of blue, his jaw clenched as he struggled to maintain control. Little minx. She had no idea how close she was to being stripped naked and shagged into the stone floor, gentle poet be damned.
“No love, don’t think you did. But feel free….”
Buffy peppered him with little kisses and nips, all over his face, his neck, catching his earlobe between her sharp little teeth and nibbling before letting it slip from between her lips with a soft pop. Her warm breath stirred his platinum curls, released from their usual gelled condition by her roving fingers. “I love your sexy growl”. The husky whisper was his undoing. He surged to his feet, grabbing her to him as he rose and wrapping her legs to lock round his waist. He strode towards the opening to the downstairs cavern and jumped through, air rushing past them, Buffy’s head on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his back to hold him to her. He hit the ground with a thud, striding away to the bed as he landed. The devastation from the grenades after soldier boy’s visit was still apparent but he’d tried to clean it up, hanging tapestries on the walls to hide the burn marks and covering the floor with rugs. The bed was new, the covers too, and the soft golden shade complemented her hair as it spread out beneath her where he’d laid her, leaving her momentarily to light the candles scattered around the room.
They were both fully clothed and horny as hell, but there was something different in the air affecting the way they were with each other. Buffy leaned up on her elbows watching the way he moved, gracefully, sparingly, each stretch of his limbs precise and with minimum effort. His back was outlined by the tight black tee he wore and she thanked the powers that be that he’d ignored every fashion dictate since the eighties and stuck with his own particular style. Because it suited him. Made him unique - apart from the copy cat look of a certain Mr Idol. She’d ridiculed his hair so many times when she’d really wanted to tug at its gelled perfection and allow the curls she could see straining to be free of the sticky product set loose. The colour was just right too, the pale sheen setting off his equally pallid features and highlighting the black eyebrows and full, pink lips. And then there were his eyes. God. She could write poetry about his eyes.
She chuckled to herself. One thing about her, when she decided to go for it, she really went for it wholeheartedly. Where were these thoughts coming from? Anybody would think she’d spent years staring at Spike’s obvious attributes and committing them to memory so that she could recall his beauty in the cold, empty hours of the morning while she lay, alone and aching, in her bed. Oh. Well, yeah. They’d be right.
Spike turned back, the candles all lit now and shining behind him to outline him in a halo-like soft glow. She couldn’t stifle the gasp that tumbled from her lips. Spike smirked. “What’s so funny, love?”
“Oh, nothing. Just kicking myself. Thinking of all the times I could have been here with you instead of watching everybody else be happy. I’ve been so stupid….”
Was he hearing her right? Was this actually Buffy admitting she felt something for him? Okay, not in so many words but she couldn’t mean anything else.
His eyes widened when she patted the bed beside her and shifted over to make room. “Come here.”
His feet obeyed before his mind told them to, his hand straying to the fastenings of his jeans as he walked. Buffy stared, spellbound, as his fingers popped each button until a sliver of pale skin shone through the open fly. She moistened her lips. Her pulse raced even faster in anticipation when the bed dipped with his weight where he knelt. She heard the thud as his boots hit the floor, and without conscious thought, her own boots were removed by her shaking hands to tumble off the bed. With one hand gripping the neck of his tee, Spike yanked it off to reveal his sculpted chest and abdomen, his pink nipples hardened to biteable peaks and just at mouth level as he knelt besides her.
Trembling with barely suppressed desire she reached for him, her small hands stroking the firm planes of his chest, his stomach, and snaking down to dip below the open waistband of his jeans. She swept her eyes up to watch his face as he closed his eyes in ecstasy, sucking on his bottom lip and letting out a small moan of pleasure. Her fingers tugged at the coarse curls hidden by the denim, searching for and finding his stiffening cock and circling it at its base with a firm grip. She stroked him, once, twice, the guttural moans that emanated from his mouth proof positive that he was lost in the moment. Still stroking him slowly, she leant forwards to lick and bite at his nipples, tongue circling one then the other, delighted with the response she got from him more than evident from the further hardening of his jutting member.
Spike gripped her hair and pulled back her head so that she was looking up and directly into fathomless blue eyes, stormy with passion. “Lie down,” he commanded, and she obeyed without thought, eager to feel his weight on her. She heard the swish of heavy denim when his jeans were dragged down his legs and off to leave him standing naked in the flickering candlelight. Beads of sweat speckled her skin as her body responded to him, her throat and shoulders flushed with her heated blood where it raced through her system. Firm, cool hands set to opening the buttons on her shirt; carefully at first, but suddenly pulling hard to part the garment, buttons popping and rolling away across the floor. His hand caressed her stomach and up to cup a lace-clad breast rolling her nipple between finger and thumb to tingling intensity. She was on fire.
Buffy lifted her hips to ease the removal of her unwanted trousers, eager to join him in his unabashed nudity. Cool fingers tapped up her legs, pushing her knees apart to come to rest with his thumb pressing the damp gusset of her panties along her slit and slowly circling her clit. Spike flicked at the front clasp of her bra which popped open immediately, falling to her sides and leaving her breasts uncovered to his hungry gaze. He bent his head to take one nipple between his teeth, chewing gently and rolling the nubbin with his tongue, moving his free hand to pay attention to her other breast while continuing his assault on her pussy.
Buffy’s breathing was speeding up as the sensations of his teeth, his tongue, his fingers, all centred and focused on her sex. She was moaning, eyes closed, incoherent sounds and pleas for satisfaction. Spike smiled against her breast as he snagged her panties to one side and slid two fingers inside her wet passage. She arched off the bed, the stimulation almost too much for her, her heart-rate rocketing and her hands grabbing for him frantically. Spike relented, releasing the nipple he was teasing with his teeth and moving up her body, brushing her hair from her face before capturing her lips with a searing kiss, tongues and teeth clashing as they fought for dominance. His cock pressed into her hip so she shifted to seat him fully between her open legs. Spike slipped his fingers free and ripped the tiny scrap of lace that passed for her knickers from her body then moved to press his throbbing length at her opening. Buffy’s eyelids were fluttering, and she was scrabbling at his back, fingernails digging in as she desperately tried to get him to enter her.
He thrust inside her, filling her entirely, the warm heat threatening to have him coming before he could move again, his lips moving away from her mouth to trail along her cheek and down the side of her neck. He whispered against her skin - her name, his love, the raw things he wanted to do to her. His voice was stroking every erogenous zone she had, and she was rapidly racing to a bone-melting orgasm. Spike started to move slowly, withdrawing his cock almost fully before sliding back home, sensing that she was near to the edge and wanting to draw it out for her, make it good. Buffy locked her ankles behind his back, thrusting up to meet him as he increased the speed slightly and begging him for something, anything…..she didn’t know what she wanted but she knew she wanted it. She wasn’t making any sense, her head simply processing the sensation of his body with hers and nothing more.
Spike was in trouble; the combined assault of Buffy’s scent, her fingernails drawing blood on his back, her little nips at his lips and the way she was moaning and begging him, saying his name over and over like a prayer were seriously undermining the last shred of control he had over the demon. He’d played nice for weeks letting the softer side of Spike’s psyche come to the fore while he wooed the girl but now, with her lying prone beneath him and begging him to….. whoa! Begging him to bite her? She was actually saying the words………
So yeah, in trouble.
He shook off the demon, increased momentum with his thrusts and clutched at her hip hard enough to leave bruising finger marks – but try as he might he couldn’t shut out the little cries of ‘bite me’ that she was whimpering. He found himself nuzzling at her neck, the pounding of her blood through her veins sounding loud in his ears and calling to him. His primal urges were getting harder to control. Brow ridging and fangs lengthening, he gave in, Buffy’s last whimper swallowed by her cry of ecstasy as he pierced the skin of her throat gulping down the crimson nectar that washed over his tongue. Buffy started to shudder, screaming his name, her hips bucking as the dual penetration of fangs and cock set off the most powerful climax she’d ever experienced to pulse through her body. Her pussy gripped him tight and his ejaculation was seconds behind her orgasm leaving him satiated and falling forward to lay heavy on her, his fangs still embedded in her throat. Slowly, he withdrew them licking and nuzzling at the marks he’d left, sealing the puncture wounds and adrift in a haze of vampiric pleasure.
Buffy had begged him to bite her, had craved the feel of his fangs in her flesh. His bite had made her come. Nothing could be better than this. He continued licking at her flesh, cleaning up the last remnants of her delicious blood, and murmuring his love for her against her neck.
Buffy’s eyes opened with a start. Panic. Huge panic. She struggled to move with Spike’s dead weight on top of her, his cock still buried deep inside her and his fingers twined in her hair. And his tongue……what was he doing? Oh god, he’d bitten her. She’d asked him to…..oh god………
Buffy shoved at his shoulders, wriggling to get away. “Off, Spike. Get off me!” Finally getting leverage she pushed hard, Spike tumbling to the floor in a heap of confused limbs. He sat up, hair in disarray, face masked with hurt and perplexed questions.
“Buffy…….” He didn’t know what to say, what had caused her to change so quickly. Whatever it was, she was up and grabbing at her clothes and yep…….up the ladder to the crypt. The slam of the door confirmed that she was gone.
Deja bloody vu.
Kicking at the single boot she’d left behind like some twisted Cinderella he took his anger and frustration out on the new furnishings, vamping out and using teeth and claws to shred them.
The next night he waited until dark and was up and out the minute the sun dipped below the horizon. He walked angrily towards Willy’s, determined to have it out with her one last time. Either she wanted him – man and demon – or she didn’t. He’d had enough of hiding one side or the other, and truly thought over the last weeks they’d become friends and more. He knew she felt something. She’d been so close to admitting it last night. And what was with the ‘bite me’ thing if she didn’t want him?
He shoved open the doors hard enough to have them bounce off the walls. More than one startled demon dropped their glass as he stalked through the room and pulled up a stool at the bar. He’d expected see her serving drinks but she wasn’t there. Well, he could wait. He’d reacquaint himself with a bottle of bourbon while he was there.
“Oy! Willy! Usual over here, make it a bottle.”
Willy sidled over, trying to weigh up the vampire’s mood. He knew something was up. He was a waitress down for a start.
“Here ya go, Spike. You need a glass?”
“No. Just leave the bottle.” Spike pulled on the stopper with his teeth, spitting it out to ping off the mirrored back wall. He took a huge swig of the fiery liquid, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Where is she?”
“She quit Spike. No reason, just stalks in here says she’s through. And I’ve got folk coming in here solely on the strength of the Slayer waiting tables. I tell you, the girl’s irresponsible. I’ve a good mind to…”
“You’ll do nothing to her. You hear me? You lay a finger on her, or get somebody else to….” The threat was spoken softly but was none the less menacing for that. Willy backed off, palms held up and out in supplication. He could do without a pissed off master vampire on his tail. He was just mouthing off anyway. Although he would lose some business….
Spike turned his attention back to the bottle, mind racing as he figured out what to do next. Try as he might, he couldn’t hurt the girl. Couldn’t let anyone. What a piss poor excuse for a vampire he’d become. Sitting alone in a demon bar and warning a sorry wanker off the Slayer? He drained the rest of the bottle and signalled for another.
An hour later, he’d finished off two bottles and was ready to start on his third, well on his way to drunken oblivion. He felt the tap on his shoulder and angrily told the dickhead to piss off.
He wheeled round on the stool, fangs in place and ready for a fight.
“I told you to fuck off………….oh!”
Buffy stood in front of him, nervously rubbing her hands and biting her lip. Her hair shone, face made up, nails painted. She wore a strappy black dress with a plunge front and back that barely brushed her knees. Long, tanned legs finished in high heeled mules, her toenails painted scarlet to match her fingers. Spike was stunned. He’d never seen her looking so beautiful. In his confusion, the vampire visage faded. He couldn’t speak, mouth opening and closing wordlessly as he struggled to think.
Buffy reached out a hand, bangles jangling together.
“Take me dancing?”
There was no sound in the bar. Every single occupant waited for the drama to play out. Willy cursed himself that he hadn’t thought to sell tickets for the inevitable showdown between vampire and Slayer. Well, inevitable in the ‘everything’s clear with hindsight’ way.
There was a collective ‘aw’ when Spike stood and took her hand in his, all eyes watching them as they walked out, their gazes never leaving each other’s face.
The door shutting behind them cut off the uproar their departure had caused. They carried on walking, Buffy’s heart racing with nerves and Spike rendered truly speechless by what had just transpired. Was he really walking hand in hand with a scantily clad Slayer and heading – so it appeared – towards the Bronze? He chanced a glance at her. She was still nibbling nervously on her bottom lip, cheeks high with colour.
“Buffy, love……not that I’m complainin’, but last I saw was your arse scooting up the ladder. What’s this all about?”
It was here. The moment she’d dreaded. She’d not slept a wink last night trying desperately to sort out what the hell was going through her head. First off, she’d pounced on him, demanded he kiss her. Then she’d gone all husky with his sexy growl. Hell, she was about to drag him downstairs herself when he stood up and did it for her. And he’d fixed up the room and she’d gone all mushy when she was watching him get undressed, musing and thinking poetic thoughts about his eyes. Then he was on her and she delighted in what he was doing to her, her nerve endings fizzing with pleasure. She blushed as she remembered her shameless begging for something more. And oh god! Then she’d pleaded with him to bite her?
She stopped, tugging on his hand to halt him too.
“Spike….I…really don’t know how to explain. But…..it was just…….”
Spike sighed, letting go of her hand to rub at his eyes. “It’s alright, pet. I’m a bad rude man, I know. Shouldn’t have let myself bite you even if you asked. I know it’s wrong. Been kickin’ myself. Trust me, Buffy, I won’t ever do it again.”
Buffy swallowed, hard. No – that wasn’t it.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to him gripping both of his hands with fingers made clammy with nerves. Huge hazel eyes turned on him and speared him to the spot. “Spike. Don’t apologise. That’s not why I ran. I was……..scared.” Spike bowed his head. He was so ashamed.
“Hey! Spike? Look at me. I wasn’t scared of you. I don’t even know how to explain…..see....” Buffy paused, brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words. “What I’m trying to say is, the last weeks we’ve become closer. I never let myself feel anything for you before, when we……well, when I was Queen Bitch Buffy and just hit on you for sex.” She shook her head as Spike tried to speak. “No, let me finish. But just spending time with you……..I like you. No, more than like…….I…..” oh just say it Buffy! ‘I…feel more than like for you. And I want you.”
Spike’s whole world was turned topsy turvy. Good thing he didn’t need to breathe because he doubted he’d be capable. He stared at her as she spoke.
“Last night, with the flowers and all..” she smiled as she recalled fleeing from the crypt like the devil was on her tail but still finding time to search out the roses from where they’d been placed out of harm’s way and clutching them to her chest. “I allowed myself to admit things I’ve felt for a while.” She smiled at him, a hundred watt smile that dazzled and astounded. “I was all set to tell you, too. But then…..well, you know….”
“I bit you.”
“Uh huh. And before you apologise again, I wanted you to. Really, really wanted you to. Ached for it, craved the feel of your fangs in my flesh. And it felt so good………”
Was he dreaming this? The Slayer saying she’d enjoyed his bite?
“And that’s why I was scared. Why I ran.” Her eyes became lustrous with tears, Spike hurrying to wrap her in his arms and pull her safely to nestle on his chest.
“Hey, hey….no tears, Buffy. It’s fine, it’s alright. I promise I won’t ever bite you again.” He strained to hear her reply smothered as it was by her face buried in his chest.
“But I want you to….”
Startled blue eyes sought out hers, his fingers gripping her chin to raise her face. His voice was a whisper of hope. “Buffy……?”
“I want you to bite me. I want you to kiss me. I want you to hold me. I just….want you.”
Howling with elation, Spike gathered her up in his arms and turned around stalking away from the bright lights of the Bronze, all thoughts of dancing forgotten.
TBC - Last chapter coming right up!!!!
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