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Born To Be My Baby by slaymesoftly
 
Four
 
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Chapter Four

Long before the alarm actually went off, Buffy was awake and tossing restlessly in her suddenly empty-seeming bed. Now that the decision had been made to follow the path towards which her instincts had been pushing her for some time, she was impatient to get to Spike and begin another new chapter in their relationship.

(First he wanted to kill me, then he wanted to help me save the world – and that ho-bag of a girlfriend…) A throaty snarl erupted from her throat at the thought of Spike’s sire and the devotion he’d shown for her. (Then, he turns up crying on my mother’s shoulder about the same cheating bitch. And, then, it turns out he comes to see my mom every time he’s in Sunnydale! Because he likes her. Not me – my mom! And not only does he not kill her – he lets her talk him into turning me. He had to know I might stake him for it.)

Throwing aside the covers, she got up and dressed quickly, putting on matching black lace underwear under her utilitarian sweats. She brushed her hair one more time, ran a little gloss around her lips and slipped out of her bedroom. Just before she closed the door, she turned and ran back to snatch Mr. Gordo off the bed. Stuffed pig safely under her arm, she ran with a light step all the way to Spike’s crypt, arriving at his door only to find herself struck with a sudden attack of nerves.

(What if he doesn’t want me? I mean, he wants me; I can tell that. But what if he doesn’t want me to stay here? I shouldn’t have brought Mr. Gordo. What was I thinking, I’ll just go—) Her panicky thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the door. Spike stood just inside, his hand still on the latch, an expression of wonder on his face.

(She’s here early. I wonder what that means? Maybe she changed her mind and she’s come to tell me she won’t be stayin’. Couldn’t blame her. My beautiful childe. Deserves better than a cold grave.)

Buffy stared, her fingers squeezing and releasing the stuffed pig’s body the only indication of her mounting nervousness . That, and the still-habitual breathing that caused her to pant lightly as she watched his expression change to one of apprehension.

“You’re early, pet. Wasn’t expectin’ you so soon. Is anything wrong?”

(Don’t let anything be wrong, Buffy. Don’t have changed your mind. Please don’t have changed your mind.)

“N-no. Nothing’s wrong. I just…If I’m too early, I can leave—“

She had only half completed her turn when his arms went around her and he practically cried, “No! Not too early! Never too early, love. Don’t go!”

Sagging with relief, she allowed him to hold her up while she basked in the knowledge that he really wanted her there.

“So…” she ventured, uncharacteristically shy and unsure of herself, “It’s okay that I came over early? You don’t mind?”

“Mind? Have you lost your bleedin’ marbles, Slayer?” His snort of amusement was followed rapidly by a softer tone as he held her tightly and whispered against her hair, “You’ve got no idea how badly I’ve wanted this, pet. Just to have you here – in my home…not that I think it’s…I’m goin’ to find something better; somethin’ more suitable for you. Not that I’m sayin’ you’re going to be living here, mind-“ His voice rose again as he realized he might be taking too much for granted and Buffy giggled softly at his confusion.

“You’re cute when you’re babbling,” she said with a smile.

“Hey! Master vampire here, missy. I am not ‘cute’!”

“Yes, you are.” She turned so as to be facing him, and tilted her head up to his. “You’re cute. Just like Mr. Gordo.” She waved the stuffed pig in the air, giggling again when he stopped himself just before his lips would have met hers to growl, “What the bloody hell is that?”

“That’s Mr. Gordo,” she replied with a hint of steel in her voice. “Where I go, he goes.”

“And you brought him here?”

“Well…yeah.” Her voice lost some of its assurance. “Is that…is it okay? I just thought…”

“Is he going to stay here?” Spike’s voice gave no hint of what he was thinking, but his face was an open book.

“Well…if I sta—hey!”

The rest of her words disappeared in her throat as Spike took the pig and, using the back of his hand to sweep the candles off a stone shelf, he reverently placed it in the middle. Giving it an affectionate pat, he turned to smile at the bewildered slayer.

“He looks pretty happy there, don’t you think?”

Her face relaxed into a genuine smile as she nodded her head.

“Yeah, I think he looks pretty happy. I think he’s glad to be here.”

“I don’t think I can tell you how happy I am to have him here, love.”

Spike’s voice had deepened and his eyes darkened as he once again held her against his body. “I don’t think I have the words.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers before capturing them in one of the bone-melting kisses she was already learning to associate with the vampire she’d thought she knew so well.

“Lips work,” Buffy gasped, allowing her body to mold itself to his. “Words…overrated…want…lips…”

With a soft growl that reverberated all the way down to her toes, Spike swept her up and was across the crypt in a few long strides, pausing when he reached an opening in the floor that Buffy had never noticed before.

“Trust me?” he asked softly. At her timid nod, he stepped through the opening and dropped to the level below, landing so lightly that she barely registered that they had stopped. She stared around in amazement, taking in the large, four-poster bed, the thick rugs covering the dirt floor, the armoire and the roll-top desk in one corner. A single large candle provided the only illumination, although Buffy could see what looked suspiciously like an electric nightlight glowing from well down the darkened tunnel at the far end of the room.

“Spike? Where…wha—when…?”

He ducked his head shyly and admitted, “Did a bit of shopping after I left you. Some of this stuff was already here, but I wanted you to feel comfortable – as comfortable as you could, anyway. I know a hole in the ground isn’t what you deserve, love, but until I can---“

She interrupted his apologetic explanation with another lengthy kiss; one that ended with the two of them tumbling onto the bed as Spike staggered across the room. With a giggle, she broke free of his demanding mouth and squirmed all the way onto the fluffy bedding until she was against the headboard. She smiled up at him, her own eyes darkening as he crawled across the bed to her on all fours, looking every bit the predator that he was.

“This is where you tell me you’re only here for the kip, Slayer,” he growled, even as he began to rain kisses down the side of her face and neck. “‘S your last chance to protect your virtue.”

“Don’t wanna protect my…virtue? Is that one of those old-timey words that you use to remind me that you’re older than dirt?”

Instead of answering her, the vampire continued his assault on her neck, smiling when she caught an unnecessary breath as his blunt teeth grazed her throat where the scar from his bite was still visible. When he put his lips around the mark and began to suck on it vigorously, she gasped and arched up, using her powerful arms to pull his body down against her.

Spike rested on his elbows, continuing to suck on her mark while he reveled in the feel of having her strong, soft body writing underneath his. He allowed his entire weight to settle onto her, temporarily stilling as he heard her sigh in contentment. He took his mouth off her throat to look into her lust-filled eyes.

“You know I’m bloody batshit-crazy about you, don’t you, Slayer?”

“Translation, please,” she whispered, breaking his gaze and running her own lips along the soft skin on his throat. She growled softly when she encountered the scar from his turning bite, nipping hard at it with blunt teeth before moving on.

“I love you, you disrespectful” …kiss… ”bossy” …kiss …”beautiful” …kiss…”sexy”…kiss…”childe”. With his last word, he once again fastened his mouth on hers and they were lost in each other. With no need to breathe, the kiss went on and on until the desire building up inside their bodies began to demand more. Buffy was moving under him, her legs apart so that he could press against her where and how she wanted him. Her legs came around his hips to hold him there while she ground against him, small whimpering growls coming from her throat.

With an effort, Spike tore his mouth from hers, kissing her face frantically as he gasped, “Wait, love, wait. Let me do this right. Please. Don’t want it to be too quick.”

Ignoring her whimpered protest, he shoved himself far enough off her body that he could begin pushing her sweatshirt up until he could see the black lace bra that she had hidden under it. With an appreciative growl, he pulled the shirt off her willing arms and slid back down the bed, pulling her sweat pants with him as he went. When they were off, joining her kicked off shoes and socks on the floor, he ran his eyes back up the length of her legs until he could see the light brown curls peeking out from the scrap of damp lace covering the source of the intoxicating aroma he could now smell.

Beginning at her ankle, he kissed his way up one leg, pausing to nibble on the skin behind her knee before draping that leg over his shoulder to give him more access to what he wanted. Buffy’s hips were already moving as he nipped and licked at her through the lace. When he finally used his teeth to rip the lace off and swept his tongue from one end to the other, she arched off the bed with a shriek and grabbed his head with both hands.

While he worried her clit with his tongue and blunt teeth, his hands were busy moving her bra out of his way so that he could caress the breasts and hard nipples waiting for his touch. Buffy’s head was tossing from side to side as he put over one hundred and twenty years of practice into making her first orgasm with him something that would wipe Angel’s one-time love-making out of her mind. When her gasps and whimpers were coming faster and faster, and her grip on his hair was becoming painful, he pulled her swollen nubbin into his mouth and sucked on it until she had stopped shuddering under him and was lying limp, gasping for unnecessary air.

Feeling more than satisfied with himself, he rose to his knees and pulled his own shirt over his head, throwing it away and unbuckling his belt in almost the same motion. Buffy’s half-open eyes widened as he pushed his jeans down and the object that had been pressed against her earlier came into view. Torn between curiosity and embarrassment, she kept shutting her eyes, then opening them again to take quick peeks at his naked body when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

(Damn! He noticed.) She blushed as she caught a glimpse of his cocky smirk. Spike ran one hand down his naked chest, smiling at the way her eyes followed it all the way down to the dark-blond curls from which his cock was jutting.

“See anything you fancy, pet?” he purred, standing up briefly to kick his jeans onto the floor. When she glared at him for calling her on her obvious admiration, he laughed softly and again knelt down between her open thighs. He ran his hands up the insides of both legs, moving past what she had thought was his target and up the silken skin of her stomach until he reached her rib cage. With a quick movement, he dropped onto the bed and rolled on to his back, pulling her with him to straddle his hips. His hands made quick work of the clasp on her bra, and he tossed it onto the growing pile of clothing scattered about on the floor.

Lifting his head, he fastened his mouth around one rosy nipple, sucking on it until Buffy was moaning and pushing it into his mouth even harder. His cock was bumping against the cheeks of her ass, seeking the opening in which it wanted to be buried. Staring into his eyes, Buffy fought back the urge to look away as she slid down until she was poised over him. Spike’s mouth came off her nipple with a soft “plop” as he met her gaze with wonder and growing desire.

Never taking their eyes off each other, Buffy lowered herself onto his ready cock, which Spike had quickly moved to hold into place with one hand, the other hand resting on her hip. Slayer healing being what it was, and well over a year having passed since her disastrous night with Angel, they found that - to their dismay - the Slayer was as tightly closed as she had been on her seventeenth birthday.

“I’m sorry, love,” Spike managed to get out as he fought the demon’s urge to force its way in. “I’m afraid it’s going to hurt.”

“News flash, Spike. Number one – I’m a slayer, so yay for high pain thresholds; number two - been there, done that already and lived to tell the tale; and – big plus for number three - I’m a vampire. Didn’t you tell me we like a little pain with our pleasure?”

“That we do, pet.” He gave her a feral grin and pushed his hips up as he pulled her down with both hands. The small, fleshy barrier gave way and he slid into her; a tiny gasped “oh!” the only sign that she’d felt anything beyond the totally new sensation of having Spike inside her. She looked down at his face, watching his demon emerge and totally unaware that her own face had shifted as well until she bent to kiss him and their fangs clashed together.

The taste of each other’s blood as their torn lips and tongues met was distracting enough for them to almost forget what the rest of their bodies were doing. While their hips began a rocking motion that was as old as life itself, they sucked and licked as though starving. As the urgency lessened, they became more conscious of the sensations building in their lower bodies and both slid back into their human faces.

Spike gently rolled them over so that he was once again above the slayer, his hips never stopping their gentle motion and his lips now free to whisper his devotion into her willing ears. Buffy’s arms and legs wrapped around her sire, feeling, for the first time in her life, the absolute connection that came from having shared both blood and sex with another vampire. She unconsciously tightened her interior muscles, pleasantly surprised when Spike hissed and began to croon encouragement in her ear.

“Oh, yes, love. Like that, Buffy. Love you, my wonderful talented girl. Do that again, sweetheart; squeeze me, you are making me hurt in all the right ways…”

As he babbled in against her neck, his hips were moving faster and harder until he was pounding into her, game face to the fore once again. As Buffy met him thrust for thrust, digging her nails into his churning buttocks, she allowed her demon full rein also. They climbed to their impending release, each striking at the same time and burying their fangs in each other’s throats, pulling hard on the borrowed blood there as they rode out simultaneous orgasms.

Spike slowly removed his fangs from Buffy’s neck, licking the wounds closed before lapsing back into his human face. She followed his lead, licking the marks she’d made over Drusilla’s original bite and then pushing her demon away. For minutes they lay together, coming down slowly from the heights to which they had climbed together. Finally, he rolled off, pulling her with him to snuggle against his chest.

“So,” she began, stopping to clear her thoat and tame the squeak in her voice. “I guess that’s what they mean by `hurts so good’, huh?”

She felt his chest rumble with laughter as he tightened his arms around her. “I doubt anyone has ever made it hurt quite that good, my love,” he said, making no attempt to hide the admiration in his voice. He reached down and pulled the rumpled bedclothes up over their bodies before he continued. “And I doubt anyone ever will. All they can do is envy us.”

Buffy’s wide yawn was followed immediately by an attempt to apologize, but with a gentle chuckle, Spike ran a soothing hand across her forehead and encouraged her to close her eyes.

“Didn’t you want to do it again?” she asked plaintively, even as her eyes were drifting shut.

“ I do, love, and we will. But you need to sleep now and so do I. We have the rest of our unlives to practice making love to each other.”

“Practice? You mean we could get better at it?”

“I’m countin’ on it, Slayer,” he said with a trace of his usual cockiness. “I’m definitely countin’ on it.”

“ `K, then,” she murmured into his chest. “Sleep now, practice later.”

Safely underground and protected from the deadly sun, the two vampires - one old, one almost brand new - fell into the day’s deep, restorative sleep, each confident that when they awoke the other would still be there.

The End?


It seems to be becoming a habit that I write what is intended to be a very short fic or ficlet, and then reviewers give me ideas and I realize that an actual plot could break out. LOL I think it is pretty obvious that, happy ending or not, there is more to write about vamp Buffy, her sire, and her extremely unhappy ex boyfriend. Not to mention, the Initiative will be moving into Sunnydale very soon and won’t that be tricky? So, this one is over for the time being, but I already have plot bunnies running around in my head and I promise a sequel to this sequel at some point in the not-so-distant future.

 
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