A/N: I hope to update another chapter this week, but can't promise anything since it all depends on how busy are my betas (dawnofme and Mabel Marsters) in RL. I've got several more chapter written and we're getting close to the end.



Banner by talented xaphania


Chapter 41


Spike snapped his phone shut, tossed it beside him on the sofa cushion, and sucked in his cheeks. They actually hurt from smiling so much. Such a strange occurrence, but he never could underestimate Buffy’s ability to make him happy.


‘Will you come see me?’ she asked in hushed tones, somehow managing to be both shy and flirty. Like he could ever say no to anything she asked? Like he could imagine her finger curling around a golden strand of her hair as she told him the Watcher went to London on an official Council business and not crave to have her all for himself? To selfishly blanket her in his embrace, ravenous for the smoothness of her skin, and to tug her close enough to mold her supple form against him? Like hell.


Spike bent down to peer under the sofa, gathering the boots he’d kicked off there. Simultaneously shoving his feet into them and running a hand through his hair, he contemplated using gel to tame the curls then thought better of it. Buffy would mess it up anyway, and he just knew she always did it on purpose. Even though he hated to look like a git, if she liked it, he didn’t care.


He snatched the keys from the coffee table and strode to the front door to slip into the duster, then locked the door behind him. How did she expect him to not see her immediately after asking him to come over later so they could snog on top of her girly covers then shag themselves unconscious? Okay, so she didn’t say anything about shagging, but he could tell she wouldn’t mind from the sound of her voice and the excited pitter patter of her heart.


He crossed the distance between their flats in record time. It never occurred to him to use the door since he’d always avoided it in the past, so he sauntered towards the window to her room and lifted it up so he could climb in.


“Well, lookie lookie what’s turned up… a trespasser,” drawled a female voice that definitely wasn’t Buffy’s. He started and fell ungracefully into the room, glad that his move was somewhat shrouded by the darkness of the room.


Brunette, clad in leather pants, red lipstick on her lips.


Faith.


She leaned against the doorjamb with a questioning look on her face. “Care to tell me who are you and what the hell are you doing sneaking into my friend’s bedroom? If you’re a burglar, you chose the wrong house.”


He propped himself up and shook his head, peering up at her through the darkness. “What? Not a burglar, pet. Now be a good girl and tell me where Buffy is.”


Her brows drew together in confusion as she walked into the room. “Who are you? I thought B had a hard on for that William guy even after he became a vam-… uh… smoker. She never mentioned any side affairs.”


He couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.


Faith folded her arms across her chest, and he could tell she wasn’t amused. As a human, he used to avoid her because she kind of scared him. Now he couldn’t help but want to tease her a bit.


“Right. She ditched the poor sod. Said he was too nerdy for her and you know, all that… smoking,” he said with a chuckle. “I offered a sympathetic shoulder and she took it.”


“Like I’d believe that,” she said. “Wait… you sound familiar. Do we know each other?”


She backed off and flipped on a light. The sudden change momentarily blinded his sensitive eyes, but he quickly adjusted in time to see Faith’s confusion melt into doubt before her eyes narrowed as she finally placed his face.


“William?”


He rose to his feet and brushed off his jeans. “The one and only.”


She stood there gaping at him like a fish. “No way! You don’t look like the dweeb from high school.”


He arched his brow. “Well, you haven’t changed all that much. As tactless as I remember.”


The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “Tact is overrated. Anyway, B’s in the shower. She’s been giving me a headache with all her freaking out to look good. Now I know why. So I take it you two worked out your differences?”


Buffy wanted to look good for him? Silly girl. He’d love her if she wore a sack. “You could say that.”


“So you’re a vamp now, huh?”


“Yeah. And a smoker too. Good guess.”


“It was the first thing that came to mind. Didn’t want to mention vamps in case you turned out to be a human,” she said with a shrug.


He followed her movement as she prowled around the room.


“You know I’m a slayer, don’t you?”


“Buffy told me,” he said with a nod. “So… I guess this is you threatening me.”


She stopped to pin him with a glare. “You got it. One thing to make the girl sad and you’re fitting in an ash tray. Hope we’re clear on this.”


He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “If I do, you have my permission.”


“As long as we agree on that.”


He tilted his head as the scent of spring and Buffy wafted to his nose before she actually entered the room. When she did, he drank in the sight of her dressed only in a towel, droplets of water still clinging to her skin. He swallowed heavily, eager to lick the moisture off her flesh.


Her eyes went wide when she noticed him standing there.


“Spike! I thought you’d be coming over in an hour or so.”


He had to force himself to focus on her words instead of raking his eyes all over the exposed parts of her body. “Uh… got impatient.”


Faith cleared her throat to make her presence known since both of them were too wrapped up in the other’s proximity. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up, kids.”


She started to walk out of the room then stopped briefly. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, girlfriend,” she said with a wink then whispered, “You better ride that stallion.” She was gone before Buffy could utter a sound.


A blush spilled all over her cheeks and chest when she noticed he’d heard Faith loud and clear. “Don’t listen to her. She’s got this habit of making crude comments.”


He took a step closer, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t know. Sounds like bloody brilliant advice to me.”


Another step. Her heart picked up in speed and she licked her lips.


“We’ve got the house to ourselves then,” he said.


Just a couple of inches between them now. He reached out and traced the edge of the towel, deliberately brushing the tops of her breasts with his fingertips.


“Uh huh,” she said and stared up at him, the green of her irises just a bit darker as her pupils dilated.


Her fingers closed around the lapels of his coat and she tugged him closer. Then she kissed him, her tongue immediately pushing his lips open to steal a taste, her fingers crawling up his arms to shove the duster off his shoulders.


“Missed you,” she murmured into his mouth as she backed him into the wall.


Spike pulled at the towel and let it fall to the floor as he claimed her lips again. Her skin was warmer than usual from the shower, scalding him even through the clothes. The demon inside him roared at the feel of her slippery bare flesh under his seeking hands.


She broke the kiss long enough to strip the t-shirt over his head, and her fingernails raked down his chest to his abdomen. The slight sting of it made him growl, and the way she was in control stirred a primal need, making him even more aware of the demon clawing at the surface.


Before he knew what was happening, she was dragging him to the floor, and her deft fingers reached down undid his belt, tugged down the zipper and took him out. Unneeded breath caught in his throat as she lay back and impatiently shoved the jeans under his ass with the heels of her feet, locking her legs around him to pull him on top of her.


Spike propped his palms on either side of her head, the desperate expression on her face stripping away his control. The scent of her filled his nose and knowing she was more than ready, he rammed half of his length inside her then pushed in even deeper. Her eyes squeezed shut, her throat arched up, drawing his eyes to the pounding blood in her artery. A growl rumbled through his chest as he swiveled his hips. Her nails scratched down his back almost hard enough to draw blood.


Their groans and quick breaths weaved a sinful pattern through the air, filling his ears, quickening the pace of his thrusts. The heels of her feet dug into his ass cheeks, and she drew his head down. His lips hovered above hers, tongue sneaking out to catch a bead of salty sweat above her upper lip.


His every thought narrowed to pure sensations: the inferno of her body, her thighs locked around his waist, and sweet mouth against his, teeth nibbling his lower lip. The blood rushed beneath her skin, so close as he licked the water off her neck So sweet. So his. He could feel the demon pushing to take over, reducing his thought to the simplicity of the sizzling contact between their writhing bodies.


Wanting. Craving. Golden skin feverish under his tongue. Shiver. Moan. Tight and so wet. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy. God, more. So deep. Need. Need.


'Mine!'


Her inner muscles spasmed, trapped him inside, driving every thought out of his head. He could feel the demon crawling up to the surface. Bones shifting, Buffy’s nails digging into his skin. The tightness of her skin giving way under his fangs then ecstasy. Thick and rich and exquisite as it poured into his starving mouth. The demon inside snarled in possessive need. She was his.


His Buffy.


His everything.


Forever.


The tides of rapture crashed against him, one after the other as he moved inside her. It was too much.


The climax started to ebb, melting down into a steady glow. It was then that her voice drifted as if from great distance.


“Spike, no.”


He realized what he was doing and slid his fangs out of Buffy’s neck. Panicking, he met her dazed eyes. Her heart pounded strongly in her chest deafening him. The way he felt… God, he was truly horrified. He’d never meant to lose control over himself. What if he had drank too much?


'Monster, monster, monster.'


“Buffy… luv… I’m s-sorry.”


He jerked back, sliding out of her and zipped up his jeans. She followed his motion and sat up, one hand cupping her neck.


“It’s all right.”


He stared at her, barely feeling the reassuring caress of her hand as she touched his cheek. It was so fleeting, he almost missed it but once he smelled it, his whole body froze.


Fear.


Just a drop of it, but enough to make him recoil in horror.


“It’s not alright,” he said, as his eyes glazed over with sheen of tears, blurring his vision. “How can you say that?”


“I know you didn’t on it on purpose.”


He shook his head and pulled her hand away from her neck, staring in horror at her bloodied palm. Crimson trickled down from the jagged twin punctures in her throat and trailed down to her breast. How could he? How could she trust him?


His eyes lifted to meet hers and he saw no hatred there. No revulsion, just acceptance. It made it hurt even worse. Knowing she still loved him and he didn’t deserve it.


“I’m sorry,” he said, willing the words to convey what he felt.


“Shh. Don’t be sorry.” She leaned into him and kissed his cheek. The smell of blood was still fresh in the air and having it so close to his mouth didn’t help. Disgusted with himself, he put distance between them.


“I can’t… have to…” He staggered to his feet and gathered his t-shirt and duster before striding over to the open window.


“Spike, wait!”


He stopped but didn’t dare turn around. The shame burned too deep.


“Please don’t go. We can talk about this. I told you I’m not mad. It just surprised me, but I know you’d never hurt me on purpose. I know.”


“How can you know that when I don’t? I just did hurt you, Buffy… after I promised-”


He tensed when she clasped his shoulder. “Don’t do this to yourself. I said I’d love you no matter what. I meant it, you know.”


He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “I love you too, but…”


That was why he couldn’t stay. He had to get the control back over himself first. Unable to help himself, Spike turned around briefly, clasped her clean hand in his to press a kiss into her palm and disappeared into the night.


*******


He hadn’t been sure before but he was now. It was the only way. The only way he could leash the demon and keep it under wraps. He had no idea what it was that made him lose it like that tonight. Perhaps the irregular feeding or the way passion overwhelmed him. Probably the combination of both.


Spike couldn’t risk it again. Not when her life was on the line. He never wanted to smell her fear again. Not of him. The soul was the answer, wasn’t it? It would make everything all right again.


It had to.


TBC