A/N: Just to be on the safe side let me re-add my rape warning, alhtough no one is actually raped in this chapter.
As soon as they were clear of the crowd of spectators still milling about The Circle, Buffy ran. The feeling of nausea that had been haunting ever since she had come to her senses during her kiss with Spike returned in full force.
But she wasn't aware of her slave, or the fact that if he didn't manage to keep up with her the collar would send horrible pain through his body. All she was aware of was her need to get behind closed doors. To lock herself in her room and hide.
It wasn't until she had run into her room and turned to bolt the door that she remembered Spike at all. He had silently followed her mad flight from The Circle. She should tell him to go back to his room, to go away, to not be anywhere near her.
"It's going to be all right, pet. You're safe," he said as pulled her into a hug. "Not going to let anyone touch you."
It should have been the last thing she wanted, to be touched. Not with memories of her 'appointments' with Daryl ravaging her mind, but instead she found comfort with her cheek pressed against his chest and his hand stroking her hair. But as good as it felt, it also broke down the last of her defenses, and she began to cry.
"That's it let it out," he told her as he gently led her to sit down on the bed. "Just let it all out."
She did just that, letting all the pain from her years of captivity run out of her. It wasn't that she hadn't cried before now, but she'd never cried in front of someone else. She hadn't let anyone see her in pain, and somehow that made all the difference. By the time her tears had run out she felt drained, but better.
"You shouldn't be so nice to me," she told Spike. She felt awful that he was being kind when she was going to allow awful things to happen to him. When she wanted to do awful things to him.
"Funny, thought you were the one person I should be nice to," he said.
"No, you should hate me. You don't realize the horrible things I'm going to let Daryl do to you. And when-"
He cut her off. "He raped you, yeah, I get it. And I'm next on his list."
She felt a chill go through her at the word. She'd never said it. Never really admitted it to herself. And the fact that Spike had guessed this horrible thing about her bothered her. Was she wearing a sign on her head that said victim?
His tone changed from serious to teasing. "Likes the good looking ones does he?"
"It's not funny," she scolded him. "And that's not it. He likes. . . he likes the good fighters. He likes the strong ones."
"Well, still a compliment isn't it?" he could see from her dark look that she wasn't at all amused.
"Look here, pet, I don't need to know this Daryl to know what sort he is. I'm not making jokes because I don't take this serious, but because I can't do anything about it. Truth is I'm completely at your mercy, and-"
"If you think I won't let it happen you're wrong," she interrupted him. "Tain is right I don't have a choice. The next time you fight, if Daryl asks to see you, I'll have to let him. That's just the way it is, and you being charming won't stop it."
"So you think I'm charming?" he asked, a smirk on his face that made her want to punch him.
Instead she kissed him.
She wanted him to take her seriously. Somehow the fact that he refused to understand how awful Daryl was infuriated her. Maybe if she forced him, he would understand.
Ever since the other night when he had kissed her, she had felt awful. She wanted to keep on kissing him. She wanted to do more than just kiss him, but she was his owner. He had no say in what they did, and she knew it was no better than what Daryl had done to her. But right now she didn't care. If he didn't care what other people did with his body, well, then she would be the first to do something to him.
She pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him as she sat up and removed her top. She could feel him growing hard as she did. When she was done and sitting on top of him with her breasts on display, he smiled. The hungry look he gave her sent a thrill through her body, even though this wasn't how things were supposed to be going.
In order to make the point that she was the one in charge she reached down and undid the fly of his pants. Before she could let herself think about what she was doing, she pulled out his cock and wrapped her hand around it. He moaned as she squeezed him and thrust up into her hand.
The next few moments where a flurry of movement as they both hurried to remove as much of their own and each other's clothes as possible. As the last piece of clothing hit the ground Buffy found herself still on top of Spike, with her face just above his.
He reached up to kiss her but she backed away, not wanting to allow him the intimate gesture. As she did so her nipples dragged across his chest, causing her to shudder.
He tried to follow her up, but she pushed him back down onto the bed. She sat back up and once again curled her fingers around his cock as she guided it inside of her. They both groaned as she stretched to accommodate him.
Buffy closed her eyes as she became accustomed to the sensations. She'd never done this before, not like this. Not when she wanted it. Everything was different. She realized how wet she'd been and how easily he'd slid into her. He felt bigger, but it didn't hurt having him inside of her, it was more like he just fit, and she squeezed him experimentally as let herself get used to feel of him.
That caused him to groan and thrash beneath her. "Please luv," he begged. "Need you to move."
She smiled, that was more like it. And since he'd asked her so nicely she did as he asked. She started slowly, letting each sensation wash over her. And then suddenly he hit just the right spot inside of her and she began to move franticly, trying to make him hit her there over and over.
She was only marginally aware of his hands running across her legs until one of them slipped up to the juncture in her thighs and she felt his thumb pressing against her clit.
And just like that she was exploding inside as the world seemed to crash down around her.
As the waves of her orgasm passed she collapsed on top of him, laying her head on his chest. The physical and emotional exhaustion of the last few days began to overtake her and she snuggled against him as she began to drift off into sleep.
Spike gently stroked the Slayer's hair as her breathing gradually became more even. He smiled to himself and wondered if he should explain to her that normally when you use someone for sex, you kick them out of your bed afterwards.
When she was finally asleep he let his hand drift down to her neck. It would be the easiest thing in the world to snap her neck right now and walk out a free vampire.
But there was no need to, and all thanks to Daryl. There was no way she would let this Daryl fellow touch him. She was the Slayer, and he knew that kind of cruelty wasn't in her nature. And since, if he understood it right, she would have to either give him up to Daryl or stop fighting him in The Circle, she would have to let him go. So there was no point in rushing his freedom.
Besides, killing her like this wouldn't be much fun. It was always more satisfying to let the do-gooders be undone by their own goodness.
Not to mention that as much as he'd enjoyed their quick little fuck, it had hardly been his best work. The poor girl obviously knew so little about sex that she didn't understand how to let him make it good for her. Now that he'd fucked her once, he simply couldn't kill her until he'd shown her what he could really do. Couldn't have her badmouthing his skills in bed in the afterlife after all.
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