The moan rolled through her, starting in her belly and slipping past her lips with the same intensity as the thrust that caused it.  Spike’s lithe form was a welcomed weight on top of her and the touch of his cool skin a sharp contrast to the feverish heat consuming her body.  The world existed out there somewhere, but here and now Spike saturated all her senses.  She felt only him.  His shuddery breath and tickling eyelashes on her heated cheeks, feather-light kisses that made her shiver all over and soft, rumbling sighs rippling like waves along her every nerve.  And his cock, buried so deeply inside her, touching those places that made her shiver and uncovering more with each steady glide.  Every time he withdrew, he took a little bit of her with him, and when he slid into her again it was like a long awaited homecoming.

Spike nibbled at her neck, whispered into her skin.  His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, stroking her hair, caressing her cheek, travelling over her thighs with a shivery touch. 

The way they moved together felt like something out of an erotic fairytale, a synergy between them so profound it was the stuff of make-believe, but nothing had ever felt more real to her than this.

Some tiny part of her mind held onto the notion that this was wrong, but the rest of her no longer cared and its protests grew fainter each time they came together.  It couldn’t be wrong.  Not when everything else told her that it was so very right.  She hadn’t realized how much she needed to let everything go and just feel. Now she was unable to do anything else, with her entire body bathed in the raw passion and impossibly huge emotions taking over her world one second at a time.

Reaching up, she caressed Spike’s face and he smiled softly, his eyes drifting shut as a rumble of pleasure rolled through him.

“Love it when you touch me,” he said, arching his back and bringing his forehead down to touch hers. 

Buffy sighed, sliding her fingers into his hair, soft now that the gel had loosened its hold.  The way he groaned sent tingles of excitement down her spine.  He shifted, propping up on his elbows to look at her through hooded eyes.

“Molten,” he whispered, moving slowly above her.  “So hot, all around me.  Burning me up.”

Buffy felt her skin flare hot and prickly in the wake of his words, and her mind whirled with countless things she wanted to say but never, ever could.  To speak, to put to voice everything she felt was a challenge she couldn’t hope to win.  And a little weight of sadness settled in her stomach at the thought that her difficulty with words meant he couldn’t know how it felt making love to him. 

She looked up into his face and he smiled, thumb tracing over her cheek, fingers threading themselves in her hair.  His eyes, so wide they were nearly colourless, glistened with the magnitude of this whatever it was happening between them.  The stirrings of emotions she couldn’t name and didn’t want to bubbled up in her chest, and she felt her reservations crumbling, shattering beneath the sheer weight of everything.

“Oh, Spike,” Buffy said, sliding her hands down his shoulders and heaving a deep, trembling sigh.  “You feel so good inside me. Don’t stop.  Don’t ever stop.  God, I’m on fire!” 

“We’re on fire,” Spike said, voice an intense, rasping whisper that turned her insides into a fluttery storm of adrenaline-laced butterflies.  “You feel it, don’t you?”

“I feel it — oh — all the way to my toes.” 

He rocked her body with a hard, breathtaking thrust.  “Feel me, Buffy.”

“I feel you.” She couldn’t feel anything else.  “God, I feel you, Spike.”

Spike slipped his hand between them, setting it open-palmed over her heart.  “You feel me here?”

Buffy took in a shaky breath, ignoring the little voice in her head screaming at her not to acknowledge what he was asking.  “I feel you everywhere.”

Spike shuddered softly and his forehead met hers again.  “Feel you,” he said.  “In my gut...my throat...everywhere.”

“Drowning in you.”  And she knew that saying it was so much more than a mere echoing of his earlier words to her.

“Drowning.”  He nuzzled her neck, licking her scars in a way that made her shiver.  “I’m so bloody in love with you.”

She knew it already, but hearing it said and with such feeling behind it had the effect of knocking the wind out of her harder than any blow.  Her heart pounded and her head swam, dizzy with the weight of his confession and the enormity of what it meant.

“Spike...”

His lips brushed across hers, a feather-light touch echoed by the path of his fingers on her face.  A silence fell around them that was hardly silent at all.  Though words ceased, the subtle sounds of their bodies moving together, sighs and moans and the infinite sounds of lovemaking spoke louder than anything else either of them could have said.  Buffy realized that maybe they hadn’t needed the words after all. 

She wasn’t blind.  She knew what was happening between them and knew that sex was only the beginning.    As frightening as that was, in acknowledging it she felt the solid thrum of that supernatural connection pulsing through her body alongside tendrils of pleasure and the weightless high of emotions.  Spike pulled back to look at her, his eyes wide and full of awe, as if he were somehow reading her mind.

Buffy touched his face, imaging the sorts of thoughts running through his head, giving form to the things he told her with his body, answering his unspoken thoughts with answers she somehow felt he could hear.  Through it all, Spike looked down into her eyes, gaze riveted to hers with something unseen and unbreakable. 

Their eyes held as Spike slipped his arms around her and rolled them over.  The cool air of the room hit her sweaty back and Buffy shivered, surprised when Spike trembled beneath her at exactly the same time.  His nails scratching lightly down her back drew another joint shiver, and as she moved to sit upright, brushing her fingertips over his chest, Buffy couldn’t help answering his breathy moan with one of her own.

Her thighs cradled his as she moved over him — moved with him, for it wasn’t her motions or his, but theirs together in near perfect sync.  Spike slid his fingers up her thigh and began a tickling, swirling path that made her flesh break out in all-over tingles.  The path ended where their bodies came together, Spike’s fingers circling her clit with the lightest pressure.  Buffy’s mouth fell open but the moan came from beneath her, from Spike’s parted lips.  Her belly twitched from the sudden burst of heat, and she clenched her muscles even tighter, drawing a long, rasping groan from both of them.

The pressure was building quickly, liquid heat filling her belly, curling her toes, urging her to move faster, come down harder onto him as he lifted up to meet her.  Little tremors began in her toes, rolling along her nerves until her whole body trembled.  Spike thrust hard up into her and let out a moan ending in something like a growl.

And then it happened.  Just a flash, a hint of gold and a brief flicker of fangs and bumpies before his human face regained control.  But she saw it, felt inside a surge of adrenaline and an urgent need she didn’t understand.  Tighter.  Harder.  Faster.  Buffy let herself fall forward, pinning his circling fingers between them, rolling her hips, grinding her self into him until she heard him growl again.  His fingers dug painfully into her hip and his cock filled her, stretched her, touched her most secret places in a way that made her cry out so loud she knew the neighbours could hear. 

A bead of sweat dripped from her forehead, landing on his face and rolling down his neck.  She dipped her head to lick away the errant drop, tasting her pleasure on his skin.  The frantic sounds of Spike’s heavy breaths suddenly stopped, replaced by a desperate, growling moan that made her pounding heart thunder even louder in her ears.  Her lips parted again and her teeth scraped his neck, drawing yet another needy sound.  She bit down, felt him seize suddenly beneath her, and her own breath stalled, caught in her chest and unable to escape.

She felt the change in that moment when everything stopped.  A bristling rush down her neck screaming Vampire! Vampire!   And when her breath rushed out, bringing with it a throaty cry, she knew. 

Spike’s fangs grazed her neck, a hint of sharpened points between soft lips sucking gently at her skin.  A jolt of pleasure shot from her neck to her clit, ricocheting, multiplying, spreading out in an icy-hot wave to every hidden corner of her body.  And with a hard, rocking thrust, Spike bit, his fangs piercing her neck in a hot prick of pain.  A blazing flush of fire spread from the bite, out, in, everywhere.  One slow pull, and another, the rush of sensation shooting straight to her womb and setting her vaginal muscles fluttering around Spike’s thrusting cock.

Couldn’t breathe.  Oh, God, couldn’t breathe.  But she needed this.  Needed him.

He took another pull, timing it with a thrust so hard she became dizzy.  Pleasure exploded in twin bursts of heat that lit her body on fire and made her every muscle quiver.  Spots danced in front of her eyes and the world spun, turning upside down and inside out before sending her tumbling out into space, weightless and lost.  Her vision blurred, narrowed to a pinprick of light as she cried out his name over and over again until she could no longer make a sound. 

Each thrust, each pull at her neck left her breathless and unable to move as the staggering surge of sensation roared through her body.  All she could feel was Spike, inside her, around her, drawing her into his body in the same way as she took him into hers.  He roared into her neck, shuddered hard beneath her, and the universe shook around them.  Buffy drifted weightless, floating, soaring, falling further and further into him even as she fell apart.

This was what it felt like to drown.