Cousin Arabella by Lilachigh


Chp 7 Just one more Time



Buffy hurled two small pink fluffy demons head first into the fountain and glanced round desperately to see where Spike was. The vampire was battling, fists, fangs and feet with two black slimy things that had suddenly grown tentacles from their heads. He was yelling and cursing with some blood-curdling words, but she had a nasty feeling he was actually enjoying the fight.

She backed away as another rat demon came growling towards her. ‘Spike! There’s too many of them,” she shouted. “I don’t want to kill anyone!” She bent down and ripped the skirt of her dress open so she could land a heavy kick to the purple faced rat’s nose. It broke with a satisfying squish and it howled away into a corner, trying to stem the purple blood with its paws.

“Spike!” she yelled again. “I can’t fight them all without killing something!”

“So what’s your problem, pet,” he laughed, rolling across the marble terrace towards her feet, thrown by the whirling tentacles. “Nothing like a good kill to spice up a party!”

She hauled him to his feet and glared at him as she punched something in the mouth as it lunged towards her. “Eeeewww!!” it was all soft, soggy and smelly and now her hand was covered with stinking goo.

“Spike! We can’t kill Div’vid’s friends!”

“Don’t see why not,” he said, kicking Mr Tentacles across the terrace to join the pink fluffies in the fountain. “Mind you, probably make a hell of a mess. Poor Bella won’t be in any mood to clear that up, I suppose.”

Buffy absentmindedly punched something else advancing on her and sighed. If Spike really thought his cousin had ever, EVER, done any cleaning in the whole of her life, he was even more deluded than normal. Arabella was definitely the sort of girl who thought her house washed and brushed itself every night.

“Right! If you’re feeling squeamish, we’d better split. Come on, Slayer!” He backed away towards the doors leading into the Ballroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Just be ready to run!” He grabbed her hand, whirled a chair over his head and threw it into the advancing crowd who promptly fell over it. As they tried to pick themselves up, he pulled Buffy into the ballroom and together they raced across the shining floor, out into the marble hall and up the stairs.

The demons and vampires charged after them, but there was a major bottle neck at the bottom of the stairs as tentacles, antlers and some very long tails got hopelessly muddled and entangled.

Spike strode down a corridor, up more stairs, another corridor, then paused, and opened a little door that led onto a spiral staircase. He leapt up the steps, two at a time, Buffy at his heels. At the top, another door opened into a small, empty turret room. Once inside, he locked and bolted the door and stood, grinning at the very angry blonde at his side.

‘“That was fun!”

“Fun? FUN?” Buffy could have hit him. “Look at my dress! it’s ruined! And it was my best one. I couldn’t hate you more if I tried! You asked me to do you a favour, come to this rotten party with you and okay, I have. And I’ve had to put up with your cousin being rude, her husband being charming but thick and now had to run away from a pack of demons just so I didn’t kill any and upset Arabella! This has been the worse night of my life!”

Spike gazed down at her. Her cheeks were rosy with anger and the soft swelling of her breasts made his pants feel tight. She was panting slightly, the blonde hair in tangles round her face. Her fists were clenched and glints flashed from her sea green eyes. The white and red dress had been torn up each seam to the waist and every time she moved, he could see a golden gleam from the round curve of her bottom.

He didn’t need any reminding that he’d insisted she didn’t wear any panties under her dress. And she definitely hadn’t complained about his wishes. God, the fight had made him hot. He wanted her now. No messing, no waiting, every fibre of his body insisted he fuck her and fuck her hard. And by the look on her face, she felt the same.

‘Spike....” she started to say, but in a blur of hands, the rest of her dress was ripped from her and she was being held up against the wall, reaching down for his zipper, just as she had that first fatal time in the ruined house.

And like then, this was quick and brutal. He plunged into the depths of her with one hard stroke, felt her stretch to take him, the muscles clenching and rippling round his cock. But he wasn’t going to let her relax. He withdrew slightly and plunged again, deeper, harder, all his vampire force concentrated on the scalding juice that was bathing him.

A grunt burst from her lips, her eyes went wide with shock and greed and then her legs lifted automatically to lock behind his waist. She was biting at his lips, drawing blood, her fists pummelling his back as he fucked her, hard and fast. This time there was no waiting for her to climax, this was all about fighting, blood lust, a male taking his willing female and making her his own.

He felt his balls tighten and then the world went mad as the frenzied banging got faster and faster and he vamped out as he shot into her, his climax the longest and hardest he’d felt for ages.

When he forced his eyes open again, they were lying in a tangle of clothes on the dusty floor. Buffy was smiling at him, her face only an inch away from his. ‘Well, you did say in the car coming here that you would look forward to having your turn,’ she murmured. “Hope it was worth waiting for.”

“God, Slayer. What have you done to me?” he moaned.

“Me? And how was that my fault?” she teased. “That was a clear case of Spike wants, Spike gets.”

He rolled over with her in his arms until he was lying ontop of her. ‘And what does Buffy want? ’

She batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Oh William, don’t be so mean to little old me. I might faint!’

“Bitch!”

‘Perhaps I should buy myself a nice blue velvet dress and wear white flowers in my hair.” She meant to sound flippant, but the words came out angry and upset.

‘Now you’re being silly,” he said and bent his head to kiss her breast, his tongue circling her nipple in slow, sensual ripples.

Buffy’s face went still for a second. ‘Spike...I was....I’m just...’ She couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t say it to him. Because if she once put into words what she felt, there would be no going back and her life would change for ever. He was an evil, souless creature who happened to be part of her life, the only person who could make her feel anything in this cold, hard world.

And she’d convinced herself for weeks now that all she felt for him was lust. Not a very nice emotion, but, she’d told herself over and over again in the darkest hours of the night, an honest one. Lust wasn’t that bad. Lust was a physical thing. OK, she didn’t have a regular boyfriend, so the physical side was a bonus, but that’s all it was, all it could ever be. Just physical.

But lying there, naked, with him stretched out over her body, she realised that she could no longer deny what seeing him with Arabella made her feel. She was jealous. Jealous that another woman - even if she was his cousin - could claim a place in his heart, in his affections.

Spike gazed down into her eyes. What he read there both scared and elated him. He’d once told her he knew she could never love him, but that she treated him like a man. But now he was beginning to realise that she could love him - but only if she would first admit it to herself.

He dropped a chain of little butterfly kisses across her face; each eye, cheeks, forehead, mouth, words of endearment pouring out of him between each kiss. He could feel the incredible tension building in the warm firm body that lay under him. Such tension must be broken, or she would collapse under the strain. He marvelled that she could go through the days with this power inside her, untapped, untouched. How had Liam and soldier boy missed this?

OK, Riley he could accept. He’d never have had the imagination to stir these fires inside her. But Angel? Spike knew how good his grandsire was with women. He’d watched him often enough over the years. Had the virginal Buffy been such a tame event. Hadn’t he felt the power, the desire for release inside her? Or had he been relishing his the sensations in his own body too much to realise what was going on in hers.

Slowly, deliberately, Spike raked his fingers down the smooth curve of her stomach and smiled at the mewling sounds that came from the back of her throat. One finger slid inside her warm depths and flicked delicately against the little button clit that immediately grew, pushing itself against his finger, anxious to be petted and touched and rubbed.

He obliged it, harder, softer, harder, softer, until she began to moan and beg, bucking under him, desperate, Then another finger joined in and like playing a piano, he sent her cascading over the edge into a screaming symphony of come, her whole body jerking and shaking, her head threshing from side to side.

And before she could breathe again, before the final tremors in her legs had finished, his mouth was sucking at her nipple and his clever fingers were back on her clit and he started again.

Because this time wasn’t going to be just one good shag each and then off into the dark. This time, she was going to know what it was like to come and come, again and again, until the tension in her body had gone and, quivering and gasping, she sobbed both for him to stop and for him to do it to her, just one more time.

to be continued