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Chapter 20


The sun had come up just seconds before Spike stumbled in and fell face down on the couch with a relieved groan, too exhausted from his extra curricular activities to come up the stairs and sleep in his bed. The minute his head hit a pillow, he was dead to the world.


The front door slammed closed, and the weight of relief almost made her knees buckle as Buffy ran down the stairs. She’d been halfway out of her mind with worry when it had been so close to the sunup and Spike had been nowhere to be seen.


There he was, laying sprawled like a starfish on a couch in the living room, his feet still clad in his Doc Martens, the duster tangled around his form as he slept, growling occasionally.


Not having the heart to wake him, even though he deserved to have a piece of her mind, Buffy took off his boots so he wouldn’t get dirt all over the upholstery. Her heart was still pounding in her chest when she knelt down next to his face and caressed his cheek. A silly smile fleeted across Spike’s lips and he nuzzled into her hand. Buffy frowned as she perused the fresh cut on his cheekbone.


They were going to have to talk.


The curtains were drawn as to not make Spike one really crispy vampire, and Buffy threw a cover over him, tucking it beneath his chin. He blinked and peered up at her from beneath his dark lashes, catching her wrist when she was about to leave him sleeping.


“Stay,” he mumbled. How could she resist him when he looked so pitiful, his pout even more resolve weakening than her own?


She sighed, resigned, and snuggled next to him beneath the blanket.


“Buffy?”


“Yeah?”


“I love you,” he said, his face buried in her hair. She knew of course, had heard him tell her a while back, but Spike thought she had already been asleep when he’d made his confession. Now he waited for her response, the air between them thick with tension and his fear of rejection. She loved him. Buffy would give up her life if it meant saving his. Spike had, after all, saved hers. She had meant to tell him before, but the fear of him trying to convince her she loved him out of gratitude had held her back. She couldn’t wait any longer.


“I love you, too,” Buffy replied, and her heart expanded painfully in her chest when she felt him tremble against her as he sharply inhaled. As if he didn’t expect her to love him back. As if she was the lifeline he’d been searching for all his existence.


His shaking fingers were buried in her hair as he kissed her. Unhurried. Tentative. Tears dripped down from his lashes onto her cheeks, his lips brushing against hers so tenderly and lovingly she barely felt them at all.


“Say it again,” Spike begged between the feathery kisses.


“I love you, Spike. Love you so much.”


He hugged her even closer and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Never… never before… God, Buffy! I need you so much. Please, let me love you.”


“Yes,” she breathed out. He glanced up at her, his eyes wide as if he’d never expect her to actually comply. As if he secretly hoped she said no, so he wouldn’t have to face his own fear of losing control. Then it was gone, drowned out by desire. Desire to feel.


He was on his feet in the next moment, sweeping her up into his arms and walking up the stairs, all traces of drowsiness gone.


“What happened to you?” Buffy traced the already healing cut with her forefinger. Spike nudged the door of his bedroom open with his elbow.


“Nothing to worry about, luv. I’ve got it under control.” He deposited her on the soft mattress and slipped out of his duster.


“But you’ll tell me.”


“You know I will.” He smiled down at her, drinking her in.


Buffy let it go for the time being, unwilling to spoil the moment. She stretched out her arms in invitation and Spike climbed on the bed, settling himself into her embrace, caressing her neck with his lips.


“Are you sure?” Spike asked, hesitation making itself known in the feelings that radiated off him in almost tangible waves. “We can stop whenev-”


“I’m sure.”


Was this really happening? Am I really ready to lose my virginity?


She gazed into his eyes, so full of love it almost hurt to look at. One glance at Spike and any doubt she could have had was lost amidst the blue of his eyes. Spike didn’t need a soul, not when the love in his heart shone stronger than anyone she’d ever known.


“Promise me you won’t ever change,” Buffy said as she stroked his hair.


“What brought this on?”


“I just… I love you just the way you are. My watcher… he used to tell me that vampires were nothing but soulless demons incapable of feeling love. I used to think so too. But I don’t think you… You don’t need a soul to be a better man. To love.” All the Council dogma she’d been fed failed in the face of this unique creature. She didn’t kid herself; vampires were evil, but somehow this one was the exception amongst their kind. And he was hers.


“Most of us are unable to love, see it as a weakness. But I’ve never been much of a follower; I like to set my own rules. And loving you is breaking pretty much every rule there is.” Spike smiled, running his fingers through her hair. “You’re all the soul I need,” he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek.


An ardent kiss was all the response she could muster. Why use words when actions spoke so much louder? His tongue tangled with hers in a battle of desperate need. Cool fingers slid beneath the fabric of her tank top, caressing her stomach, rising goose bumps along her flesh. Spike’s jeans clad thigh rubbed her in just the right way to make her mind blank of everything but the desire for him.

“Let me… see you.” Buffy managed to get out between his assault on her lips.


Spike rose up on his knees and slid the black tee over his head, his muscles stretching and rippling with the movement, as he tossed it carelessly to the floor.


His chest heaved with unneeded breath, his eyes hooded, and his lips parted. They’d just started and already he looked halfway ravished. Buffy couldn’t take her eyes off him, his strong arms and artistic hands, the broad chest and the flat of his muscular stomach. The trail of soft hair disappearing beneath his jeans made Buffy’s insides tremble and her fingers itch with the need to touch him. Her eyes roamed over him, stopping blushingly at the considerable bulge straining against his jeans. Buffy hastily glanced up at his face, hoping he didn’t notice where her curiosity had taken her. No such luck, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.


“Like what you see?” he asked silkily, caressing his chest with deliberate sensuality and his eyes softened when he noticed her burning cheeks.


She nodded and sucked in a breath when he languidly lay back on top of her, his lips back to worshipping her mouth and neck as his left hand found her breast, teasing her mercilessly. The fabric of her top felt too offensive on her sensitive skin, and Buffy wriggled beneath him, making Spike let out a rumbling groan.


“Take it off,” she whispered and Spike eagerly complied.


His hands found the edges of the material and rolled it upwards and over her head, then flung it on the floor. Spike stopped to gaze at her, his eyes devouring away every bit of Buffy’s will, making her feel as if she was his Eurydice, the only reason for him to live. Then her eyelids drooped close against her own volition when his head leaned in and sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking the reality away with his talented tongue.


Spike’s hands never stayed idle, roaming across her exposed skin, gliding and exciting. Though sure in his touch, Spike’s fingers shook slightly with barely restrained urgency. He abandoned her breasts in favor of licking his way down to her navel; his tongue tracing the pattern of lust across her skin like a fervent artist would his masterpiece.


Buffy’s eyes slid open when she felt him hesitate on the waist band of her jeans, gazes meeting in a blur of their combined emotions and frantic breaths. Unable to let out a sound, she just nodded, the blood racing so loudly through her veins it almost drowned out the sound of her zipper being lowered.


Lifting her pelvis off the mattress, Buffy gave Spike all the confirmation he needed, so he tugged the jeans off her legs, leaving her clad in nothing but a pair of black satin knickers. The sight of her riveted him and he was helpless to do anything but drink her in with his eyes. The scent of her was too delicious to ignore, and he glanced up at her to gauge her reaction.


The demon in Spike raged against his hold of control, demanding to be let out when he slid the knickers down her legs, the sight of Buffy’s bare skin driving him wild, and lowered his head to drink the most delicious nectar he’d ever had in his mouth. First lick of his tongue, the first taste of her excitement made him hungry for more.


The muscles of her thighs tensed and trembled under his hands, her gaze holding him hostage, a slave to her need as he sucked, licked, nipped and teased with his tongue. Her pulse thundered against his ears as Spike brought her higher and closer to the brink of ecstasy. He couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Pure ambrosia. Just like the one he knew rushed beneath the sweet surface of her skin, luring him to sink his teeth into her inner thigh and let it glide down his throat.


His name a breathed out prayer upon her lips, a wave of raw need swept over him.


Spike’s hands abandoned her thighs, fisting in the sheets and breaking the eye contact as he turned his face away, struggling not to let his demon come out.


Buffy was lost amidst the infinite pleasure Spike was wreaking on her willing body, his tongue making her lose her mind when he suddenly stopped and broke the gaze. “Spike?”


“I’m sorry,” he replied quietly, tensely. Still, she couldn’t glimpse his face. Felt so empty without the reassurance of his touch.


“For what?”


“I can’t… can’t bloody control it,” he glanced up at her, his eyes flickering yellow.


“Then don’t,” Buffy said and tugged him upward, caressing the ridges of his forehead with her fingertips.


“Don’t wanna hurt you.”


It didn’t matter what color his eyes were, not when they still held the same indestructible emotion he possessed whenever he gazed at her.


“You won’t.” Buffy assured him and pulled him into a tender kiss, running her tongue along his fangs. “You’re still wearing your jeans,” she whispered into his mouth.


“Right.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a sheepish smile, so different from his usual smirk. He looked just as nervous as she felt.


His human face to the forefront, Spike knelt on the bed, leaving Buffy craving the contact from the second his skin left hers. He was about to lower the zipper down when she stopped him.


“Wait!”


“Don’t you want to?” he asked her, unable to hide the disappointment even as he let his hands slip away from the clasp of his jeans.


“I-” Buffy blushed and sat up, crawling closer to him, “Can I?”


“Can you what?” Spike asked, uncomprehending.


“Umm… undo them.”


Spike stared at her, then snapped out of the haze and smiled. “You can do whatever you want, kitten. Not gonna stop you.”


Her hands reached for the fly of his jeans, brushing against him through the fabric and Spike had to refrain himself from thrusting upwards. The sound of the zipper being lowered made the unnecessary breath hitch in his throat. So did the gasp Buffy let out when he sprung into her hands.


If Spike had been standing, his knees would have buckled, leaving him a boneless heap under Buffy’s curious ministrations. It had been so long since anyone had touched him him like he mattered. A shudder ran through him and an unmanly whimper bubbled past his lips when Buffy’s hesitant fingers squeezed him just so. Another minute of this and he wouldn’t be able to hold back, not when she was gazing at him with such a sultry innocence.


“Luv… stop, before I-” Spike glanced down between them, then back at her blushing cheeks.


“Oh.”


God, but she was adorable. Spike kicked off the jeans and delved his fingers into her hair, kissing her into oblivion. Resting his forehead against hers, her breath tickling his lips, Spike guided Buffy to lie back, covering her naked body with his.


She tensed beneath him when the implications of what was about to happen slammed into her. Shivers of anticipation zapped along her nerves, the skin of his back so silky and alive beneath her palms, his hips undulating against hers with ease in a mimicry of what was about to happen stealing her breath away.


Trying not to think about anything but this moment, not to let the past barge in and make her doubt, make her recoil, was starting to result in exactly that. The vision of Spike’s face flickered in and out of focus, being crushed out by the macabre memories.


Spike felt the change in her instantly, her gaze far away, her skin becoming almost colder than his, so he did the only thing he could. He grasped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. Delving deep into her mind to keep her from falling into the abyss of past horrors.


“Buffy…come on, luv. I’m here, it’ll be alright. Just look at me.”


Buffy snapped out of it and focused on Spike’s stormy gaze, clutching at him desperately.


“Please… I need you.” She needed him to make her forget, to love her. To fill in the black void of emptiness that had been eating away at her from the inside. A lone tear slipped down her cheek as she blinked, and Spike leaned down to kiss it away.


“Are you sure?”


“I am,” she said, her gaze never leaving his.


Eyelashes fluttering, Spike slid inside, stopping before the barrier as he looked for any sign of possible distress.


“Please,” Buffy whispered, her thighs tightening around his waist as he thrust fully inside, moan bursting from her parted lips. Pain didn’t matter. Not when she could feel him within her, forcing everything but pleasure out of her mind.


Nothing had ever felt so right, as completely magnificent as being within his slayer, so hot, so tight, feeling her heartbeat pound against his flesh, making him feel alive. And the look in her eyes, so full of love and awe it almost made him weep.


She wriggled her hips and gasped, making him start to thrust gently in and out, linking their fingers, swirling his hips and claiming her lips in a kiss so passionate it was a miracle the flames didn’t burst between them. The movement of their colliding hips was fluid, slow and drawn out like an ocean wave, stirring their need higher and higher but not allowing them the release.


Buffy had never felt this way before, never knew anything could feel so amazing, that she could be so complete. The incredible thrill of Spike’s cool skin sliding against hers, every stroke within her brought her closer to the edge of complete ecstasy. Everything about him was fascinating; his every whimper and moan, his gaze telling Buffy that her touch was worth dying for. That she owned his heart.


The movement between them grew faster, more frantic, their linked fingers squeezing tightly as Spike’s demon burst forward. What Buffy did next almost did him in. She tilted her head to the side, baring him her throat and said the only thing that could make him lose control. “I love you.”


“Mine!” Spike growled.


The sting of his fangs breaking her skin was instantly drowned out by pleasure oozing through her veins, her internal muscles tightening until they spasmed wildly around him, making her gasp out before she whispered back in reply, “Yours, Spike.”


He pulled out his fangs out and gazed down at her in wary expectation. Buffy freed one of her hands from his clasp to pull him towards her mouth and sank her blunt teeth into his neck, his skin breaking beneath the pressure, the crimson liquid trickling down her throat. “You’re mine!” she said possessively.


“Yours, forever.” Spike’s hips jerked and he spilt himself inside her.


The feeling of belonging unlike anything she’d ever felt blanketed Buffy’s every sense. It was so much more intense and real than the connection they had shared before. She felt all of him within her, his emotions, his desires, and the darkness of the demon slithering through him blinded by the goodness he was capable of.


Spike had slipped out of her and gathered her into his arms as he lay on his back, both of them reeling with the intensity of the claim. Unable to move.


No words were needed as they let the sensations wash over them.


******


Buffy stirred awake to a dull ache pulsing through her belly. Convinced that she must be sore from the night before, she frowned when the pain shot through her belly again. The realization slammed into her.


She must have gotten her period.


She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten it, not since she managed to escape her imprisonment. She must have had one during the coma a month ago. Blush stained her cheeks as she glanced at Spike’s sleeping form, feeling bad for him for having to take care of that.


The cabinets in bathroom were all empty, no sign of feminine hygiene products in sight, and Buffy silently cursed. The sun was high in the sky and there was no way she could wait until dark for Spike to be able to get them for her.


Leaving a note next to Spike’s stretched out hand, explaining where she’d gone, Buffy dressed hurriedly, grabbed some money and ran down the stairs. She hesitated in front of the door, terrified of leaving the house, terrified of going out in public, and her fingers trembled as she reached for the doorknob. Her cramping belly made the decision for her.


*****


Buffy was just walking out of the drug store when a familiar voice called her name. Fear and shock made her its slave as a bottle of water slipped from her numb fingers and crashed on the concrete next to her feet.


At the same moment, Spike’s eyes snapped open and he shot out of the bed, Buffy’s note resting unnoticed on the sheets.


TBC


Author's note: So, what do you think about the chapter? I'm anxious!!!