“Where are we going?” Buffy trotted beside Spike as he went through the tunnel, taking long strides and barely using the light of the torch she was carrying.
“Anywhere there aren’t other people,” he growled. “I’m hungry.”
Her steps faltered slightly. “You’re hungry?”
“Yeah.” He looked at her, seeming irritated at her surprise. “Haven’t eaten yet today and didn’t have time to grab any blood from my stash before we jumped down here.”
“Oh. Well, if you hadn’t been so busy being mad at me, you could have taken the time, you know. I wasn’t the one in a hurry to jump down there with everybody else.”
“Know that,” he growled. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, I didn’t eat, and being around all that pumping blood wasn’t doin’ my disposition any good.”
“Your disposition is never good,” she muttered to his back. “And my blood is pumping too!”
“Yes,” he said shortly. “It is.” He stopped and pointed to a crude ladder leaning against one of the tunnel walls. “”S why we’re going up here. After you, pet.”
Frowning, Buffy set the torch down and started up the ladder, squealing when she felt Spike’s human teeth on her ass. “Stop that! I’m not lunch!”
“Nope,” he agreed, his disposition suddenly much improved. “But you are delicious. Nom, nom, nom.” He buried his face against the inside of her thigh and pretended to chew.
Buffy felt her temperature go up and her panties become wet as his mouth wandered places she was sure it shouldn’t be going. “Stop that…” she moaned, keeping one leg raised to the next rung, even as she tried to push him away with her hand.
He surprised her by moving his head and replacing it with a hand on the inside of her supporting leg. “You’re right, luv. Not the time or place. But it will be… later. Gonna show you what it means to have a man who doesn’t have to breathe... Here, let me help you up.”
He moved his hand so that it was cupping her from front to back, his fingers teasing her through her damp clothes, sending her heart rate up. She forced herself to take another step, limiting his access, but trapping his hand between her thighs.
Instead of continuing to tease her, he suddenly pushed until she almost fell out of the opening at the top of the ladder. She squirmed out on her belly, rolling over to glare at him as he joined her on the grass. They seemed to be in the newer part of Restfield; Buffy could feel the cushioning ground under her back and smell the clean scent of new-mown grass. The hole they’d emerged from seemed well concealed by surrounding shrubbery and tombstones. Before she could express her objection to his method of “helping,” he was covering her body with his and pressing her into the grass. Without discussion or hesitation, their mouths met and began the familiar give and take that was all they’d been able to manage for most of the time Spike had been in Sunnydale.
After several minutes of kisses that left them both wanting more than just the dry-humping they were doing, Buffy came to herself enough to realize that Spike was not as lost in the moment as she was. The moonlight showed that he was going in and out of game face, his kisses still as passionate as ever, but his attention clearly divided between her and something else.
He sighed and rolled off to stare at the sky. “I’m sorry, luv,” he said. “Just can’t keep the demon down right now.” He rolled his head over to meet her gaze. “I know you don’t want to be lyin’ out here with a vampire at your neck – even if he is only thinking about shagging you into the ground.” He sat up abruptly and got to his feet, holding out a hand. “Let’s go, Slayer. There’s blood in my crypt.”
Buffy allowed him to pull her to her feet, releasing his hand as soon as she was standing. “So, this is about how hungry you are? Your demon wants to eat me?”
“You might say that…” He snorted, raising an amused eyebrow and waiting for her disgusted and embarrassed, “You know that’s not what I meant!” before responding. “That’s some of it. Not all, but some.”
“What you’re saying is, I’m not safe around you when you’re hungry. Is that it?”
He whirled and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her lightly as he snarled. “What I’m saying is, my demon wants you… in ways I’d guess you don’t have any—” He exhaled sharply and dropped his hands. “I would never hurt or kill you, but your blood calls to me… and it always will. Neither one of us can change that; any more than you can change that urge to stake me that you have to fight whenever my mouth gets near your neck.” He smiled when she jerked in surprise at his knowing how her body reacted whenever he nibbled on her throat.
“It’s what we are, luv. Born enemies. But trust me when I tell you that I’m not thinking about food when my mouth gets that close to your throat. Being hungry makes it harder to ignore the elixir that’s flowing there, but wanting to taste it has nothing to do with hunger or feeding.”
“I don’t get it,” Buffy muttered. “My blood is turning you on, but you don’t want to ea—kill me?”
“I’ll explain it someday,” he said, halting before his crypt. He opened the outer door far enough to get in and put his shoulder against the one he’d braced shut. With a minimal amount of effort and noise, he managed to push it open far enough for them to slide through. Putting his fingers to his lips and pointing to the floor, he quickly closed both doors and came into the room. Buffy nodded her understanding and followed him in as silently as she could. There was just the faintest trace of a glow around one edge of the plywood covering the hole, not enough to give them away to anyone looking in the dirty windows, but just enough that she could follow him across the room without bumping into things.
Spike opened a cooler and pulled out several containers of cold pig blood. He made a disgusted face that she could just barely see before sighing and upending the first container of cold blood into his open throat. He drained it in a way that would have won any beer-chugging contest Buffy had ever seen, then dropped the plastic container and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was reaching for the second container when he noticed that Buffy had looked away from him, suddenly very interested in the barely-visible contents of the dark space.
“I’m sorry, pet,” he whispered. “My manners aren’t what they should be when I’m hungry. Another one of those things I’m going to have to work on, I reckon.”
Buffy shrugged and whispered back. “It’s okay. I know what you are. I know what you live on. I just… Angel never let me see him eat, and I—” She stopped as a deep snarl erupted from his throat. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t comparing you… I was just explaining that I’m not used to—” She stopped and shrugged again.
“My fault, pet. Need to stop over-reacting every time you mention him.”
“I think we both need to figure out how to stop making each other apologize all the time,” she sighed. “It’s not like us to be saying ‘sorry’. Not to each other, anyway.”
He gave a snort of agreement and opened the second container of blood. There was an uncomfortable silence while he quickly finished it, then put the third one back in the cooler. He walked deeper into the darkness and Buffy thought she heard water splashing before he reappeared in the gloom, once again wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What was that? A water chaser?”
“That was me rinsing the blood out of my mouth and off my lips,” he said. “Figure we’ve got some issues to get past and there’s only one way I know to do it.”
Buffy cocked her head and began to smile. “Is it time for more kissing?”
He pulled her against his chest and lowered his head. “You know any other way to forget about all the reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this?”
She shook her head just enough to agree with him, then raised her mouth to his, meeting him more than halfway. This time, when the kisses had made them frantic with need, the demon remained carefully put away as the man picked Buffy up and laid her on the large flat top of a stone sarcophagus. Instead of joining her there, he dropped his coat on the floor and toed off his boots before removing her shoes.
Buffy’s whimper brought him onto the makeshift bed beside her where he began to run his hands over her body, whispering to her the whole while. He’d soon unbuttoned her blouse and opened it to allow him access to her pert, lace-covered breasts. After sucking on one nipple, and then the other through the lace, he slid one hand underneath her and skillfully unhooked the bra, pushing it up out of his way.
“Ah, there they are,” he murmured. “Perfect, just like I knew they would be. And delicious.” He suited actions to words, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it until Buffy was arching off the table into his mouth. One hand caressed the breast he wasn’t mouthing while the other crept down to unfasten the snap on Buffy’s pants. Her gasp when his hand ghosted over the silken skin on her stomach brought an answering groan from him.
He pushed her pants and underwear down her legs, moving off the lid and pulling them the rest of the way off. He smiled his approval when Buffy threw her shirt and bra over the side of the stone bed. While he was standing up, he shed his own clothes until he was as naked as the girl in front of him. He climbed onto the sarcophagus at the end near her feet and began to kiss his way up her legs, alternating between one and the other until he had his nose buried in her curls and she was squirming beneath him.
While Spike put over a hundred years of practice to use showing her what he’d meant by having a lover who didn’t need to breathe, Buffy concentrated on not letting any of the sounds bubbling in her throat come out her mouth and give them away to the people sleeping only a few feet below. She put her fist in her mouth when he nicked her clit with one fang and pulled it into his mouth to suck her into an orgasm that left her with tooth marks on her hand and a new appreciation for the advantages of having an undead boyfriend.
Spike gave a self-satisfied growl when she final stopped quivering and relaxed under him. He kissed his way up her body, pausing to bring both breasts to rosy points again, before resting his weight on her and nibbling on her neck.
“Did you bite me?” she finally managed to say, annoyed that she sounded more appreciative than angry.
“Just a little nick,” he said into her neck. “Felt good, didn’t it?”
“So not the point!”
She felt his chest move as he chuckled silently. “Alright then, luv. I won’t do it again.”
There was silence as Buffy stiffened beneath him, the hand stroking his back suddenly stopped moving. She arched her neck, allowing him better access to it, while she put her other hand on his ass, pinching one cheek. “I didn’t exactly say that, did I?” she finally whispered, pinching him again. Instead of wincing, as she’d expected, he moaned and pushed against her. “Oh, Slayer….”
Buffy opened her legs, bringing them around his hips and holding him. She felt his cock nudging against her and wriggled her hips to make it slide through the moisture coating her lips. “Ahhhh,” she gasped, simultaneously with Spike’s, “Bloody hell, Buffy. Got to be in you, luv. Now. Please.”
Murmuring her assent, she stilled while he pushed his way into her, once again whispering his gratitude and appreciation of her body. They began to move, slowly at first, then with more and more force as their powerful bodies began to learn each other’s abilities. When Spike was gasping, “I can’t hold off any longer, Slayer. Come with me, love. Let me feel you…. Ahhhh!” Buffy clenched around him, her arms and legs holding him a grip he couldn’t have broken if he’d wanted to. He sucked the skin of her throat into his mouth in an attempt to muffle his growling release, while she bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming her pleasure to the world, and more importantly, to her watcher and friends.
Spike’s hips continued pumping long after he had spent, only gradually slowing until he was lying still upon Buffy’s limp body. He took his mouth off her throat, wondering briefly how much of a mark he’d made and if she’d be upset about it. He startled when he felt Buffy kissing and licking his shoulder.
“I bit you,” she said apologetically. “I needed to be quiet, so I bit you.”
He rolled off, pulling her with him so that she was sprawled across his body while he held her against his chest. Now that his pleasure centers were recovered, he could feel where she’d sunk her blunt human teeth into him. “Is it bleeding?” he asked.
He kissed the top of her head. “Then we’re even, yeah?”
She giggled softly. “I guess so.”
They rested quietly, Buffy nuzzling his chest and running one hand up and down his arm, while he held her in a loose embrace that tightened periodically as if he were afraid someone was going to try to take her away. When Buffy shivered at the dropping temperature, he gave a sigh and reluctantly sat up, pulling her with him.
“I guess we’d best get back before the watcher sends out a search party,” he said. “And you need some sleep.”
“Are you okay now?”
He reared his head back and gawked at her. Even in the darkness she could see his astonishment. “Am I okay? If I were any more ‘okay’ I’d have spontaneously dusted. Are you daft?”
“I meant, dumbass, have you had enough to eat? Is it safe to go back down with everybody else?”
“Was always safe, luv. I’d have to be starving before you’d need to worry about me like that. It just wasn’t easy, and I knew where there was food, so it made sense to go get it.” He kissed his way around her face, ending at her mouth, which he continued to kiss while he murmured, “But to answer your question, yes, I’ve had enough for now. I’ll be fine.”
“Then we should start getting dressed,” Buffy said, continuing to kiss him.
“We should,” he agreed, falling back onto the bed and pulling her down on top of him.
“Any minute.” Buffy squirmed around until she could feel him between her thighs.
“Right you are.” Spike put his hands on her hips and positioned them over his cock. Buffy pushed up to her knees and lowered herself onto him, sighing in satisfaction when she felt him fill her up. She sat there momentarily, staring down at the vampire whose expression she could barely read in the dim light. What little moonlight managed to get through the dirty windows was just enough for her to make out the soft smile on his face.
“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, raising a hand to brush her cheek, then running the hand down her body to where they were joined. Buffy’s skin quivered as his fingers slid past her breasts and barely skimmed her flat belly. She glanced down to where he was staring at their joined bodies and watched in fascination as he began to move his hips up and down, pushing her into a rhythm much like riding a horse. She began to move with him, and was soon slamming her hips down onto his to meet him thrust for thrust. When she arched her back and threw her head back, he took advantage of the slight separation to move his thumb and rub her into a gasping, whimpering orgasm.
“Oh god,” she breathed, slumping forward onto his chest.
“No god here, love. Just me,” he murmured into her ear as he waited for her to recover. “Just the vampire who loves you.”
Buffy’s eyes widened at his words, and to distract him, she rolled them over so that she was underneath him and once again holding him with her powerful legs. “Your turn,” she whispered, moving her hips and squeezing his cock every time she felt it fully inside. She smiled when he began thrusting again, reaching his own release so quickly it was almost disappointing—until she realized that, in spite of his obvious satisfaction and willingness to lie there recovering, he was still hard inside her. She felt him twitch and squeezed back without thinking until she remembered that they had been planning to leave the crypt. She sighed and stopped squeezing, wriggling against him instead and saying, “Seriously ?”
He laughed and rolled to the side, sliding out of her to the accompaniment of matching groans.
“Could keep this up for hours, Buffy. But I’m guessing you have another plan.”
She sighed and nodded, sitting up and looking around for her clothes. “You’ll have to back up that brag some other time,” she said, poking him in the side. “We need to get back before they send out a search party.”
Without comment, he rolled off the sarcophagus and pulled his jeans on, handing her the pants and shoes he’d pulled off her legs.
“Hey? Where’s my underwear?”
“Huh! No idea, pet.” He pretended to look around. “Maybe a mouse ran off with them?”
“Or a rat,” she muttered, glaring at him suspiciously. He smiled back as innocently as a vampire could; she shook her head and laughed. “You’re a pervert. You know that, right?”
“Ah, but I’m your pervert, Slayer. And that makes all the difference.”
She just shook her head again and continued to dress, turning around for him to fasten her bra as if they’d been together for years. He hooked it into position, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder as he did so. She tipped her head back to look up at him. “You know, we didn’t really settle anything here.”
“We didn’t. But we sure had a bloody good time ignoring our problems, didn’t we?”
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