“Damn it, Anya!” Giles lunged forward, desperately trying to rescue his books from the wax that was now pouring out of the fallen candle.

“Well I’m sorry.” She crossed her arms and made a huffing noise. “It’s not my fault we have to have a research party in the dark. That’s clearly Buffy’s fault.”

“What?” Buffy snapped her eyes up at Anya. “Was I supposed to just let the demon go? Cause, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to kill them.” Willow and Xander glanced at each other and braced themselves for yet another Buffy/Anya bitchfest, the third of the day. It was unseasonably hot, and with the power out neither girl was responding well to the lack of basic amenities. They were starting to intentionally push each other’s buttons in a desperate attempt to release unfocussed tension and take their minds off the heat.

“Well sure, but did you have to blow it up in the middle of the power plant?”

Buffy slammed her book shut, making Giles wince. “It’s not like I knew it had an exploding stomach. In fact,” she straightened in her seat, “since you’re a researchy and not a stabby or magicky Scoobie, maybe that means it was your screw up.” She smiled triumphantly as Anya’s mouth popped open for what was sure to be a bitter and frighteningly accurate retort.

Giles didn’t bother relighting a candle. It was still light enough, being mid afternoon, and he cringed at the thought of another errant spill. “As much as I enjoy following this apparently endless stream of logical blame,” Giles realized it was futile, and got up and went to the kitchen without finishing his sentence. He paused at the fridge door, trying to think of what he wanted before opening it so as not to waste the little cold that was left, while trying to block out the increasingly high pitched prattle coming from the other room. He opened the door, intending to quickly grab the half sandwich left over from his lunch, and stopped. Waving his hand through the air in the fridge, his face tightened as he realized it was now exactly room temperature. “Dear lord.”

“Whoa, did I just her a dear lord?” Xander’s voice was loud as he latched onto something other than whose fault their current lack of electricity was. “Do we have an apocalypse? Please tell me it’s an apocalypse!”

Willow scrunched up her face. “Xander, I don’t think you should joke about that.”

Giles slammed the fridge door shut and walked back into the living room, his voice quiet and controlled as he looked at each of the four at the table in turn. “Why, exactly, is the refrigerator warm.”

Buffy abandoned her verbal sparring with Anya, rolling her eyes. “Easy there Ripper. Tense much?”

Giles whipped off his glasses and began vigorously cleaning them. “I don’t know how you, all of you, could be so thoughtless. I told you repeatedly to be careful and not let the cold out.” He shoved his glasses back on.

Xander leaned forward, suppressing the urge to crack a joke; clearly the situation was getting to Giles too. “Hey man, I don’t think any of us did it.” He gestured towards the bathroom. “It was probably the bleached wonder. Didn’t you say you let him out earlier so you could shower?”

Willow laughed nervously. “Yeah. That’s the kind of evil thing he would do too, you know, with the whole not being able to do real evil anymore.”

“Oi! I’m bloody evil! Let me out of here and I’ll show you, you stupid bints!” Spike’s bellow caught them all off guard. He had just been getting into a good wank and so was being unusually quiet, until he couldn’t tune out their stupid argument anymore. Angry, he banged the back of his head against the tub. But, the Watcher was pissed, and that was always good for a laugh. He took a deep, unnecessary breath. “I’ll twist your heads off and suck them dry! I’ll scoop out your hearts and squeeze every last drop of blood into my gullet! I’ll rip off your arms and beat your ugly faces with them!” Oh yeah, he was in the flow now. He grinned to himself, and was about to describe what he would do with their eyeball sockets when Xander started yelling back about him being neutered and a chiphead and retarded from too much peroxide soaking into his cranium.

“Enough!” Giles yelled. “I’ve had it with all of you! This is clearly going nowhere today. I am driving to the next town and staying in a hotel. Xander and Anya, I suggest you go home.” He continued speaking as Anya’s eyes brightened, clearly about to launch into some vivid sexual description. “Don’t tell me what you will do there. Just go. Willow, take the text you’re working on back to your dorm. You have all behaved like children” The Scoobies looked at each other, shamed and realizing they had gone overboard with the irritants.

Anya jumped up and walked out the door, dragging Xander behind her, who waved apologetically. Willow stood up, putting the text Giles had indicated into her book bag. She spoke quietly, not wanting to aggravate him further. “What about Spike? You’re not gonna just leave him here alone, in the tub, are you? Cause, hey, evil yeah, but that’s just cruel.”

Giles turned to Buffy, his voice still tight. “No, Buffy is going to stay here with him.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “No! Giles!” She sputtered as he turned around and headed up the stairs to pack an overnight bag. “But, the Bronze! Candlelight Club Night! Power Outage Party!”

Spike yelled from the bathroom. “Don’t think so mate! You’re not leaving me alone with that annoying, whiny little bitch!”

Buffy shrieked at the bathroom. “Shut up Spike!”

Ignoring her whining, Giles started randomly grabbing clothes out of the dresser. “It’s your turn Buffy. You were supposed to stay with him last week when Olivia was here and you didn’t.” He started stuffing clothes into the bag. He smiled to himself. This was good. “You’ve been shirking your responsibilities lately Buffy. At least you can babysit Spike for one night.”

“What? No! No Shirkage! I’ve patrolled every night this week! Okay, well, some nights. And I killed the big exploding demon!” She stopped for a second, eyes wide. “And okay, maybe that blew up the power plant, but hey! No shirkage!” Her voice was getting higher by the second, as she watched Giles come down the stairs with his hastily packed bag and snatch his car keys. “Don’t make me stay here with my least favorite not-even-a-person ever!”

“Enough Buffy.” He turned and looked at her, all desperate and pleading. His eyes softened. “Just tonight Buffy. I’ll be back tomorrow. Just don’t let him out, give him some blood at some point and try not to kill him. We still need him.” And with that he walked out the door.

Spike grinned to himself. So the Slayer had to stay here, with him, alone. She was annoying, yeah, but he could make this fun. He leaned back in the tub, and began fantasizing about all the ways he could piss her off before her Watcher came back.

“Slaaaaaayer. Slayer. Slayer!” Buffy buried her head in the couch, covering it with a pillow in an attempt to block out the vampire’s bellowing. “C’mon luv. Can’t ignore me all day and night.” Buffy pressed the pillows tighter around her head, despite the now smothering heat. Damn Giles. Damn the Scoobies. Damn exploding demons. “Slayer!” Damn stupid vampires!

She jumped up off the couch and threw a pillow into a corner, narrowly missing one of Giles’s mysterious doodads. Whirling towards the bathroom, she grabbed a stake and stormed into the bathroom, where Spike was lounging in the bathtub as best he could in his chains, one leg draped over the side, his head leaned back on the porcelain, a little smile on his face like she was bringing him tea and not a stake. Damn him, he actually looked comfortable!

Buffy crossed the room in three quick strides, and before Spike could say anything she swung her stake down, stopping just at the fabric of his black t-shirt, poking a tiny hole in it. Her teeth clenched, she spoke low and quiet. “Listen to me. I may be stuck here with you, but I’m not going to put up with your crap. Shut the hell up.”

Spike had spent the last half hour yelling for the Slayer, knowing full well that she would try to ignore him. But he also knew her patience was very limited and it wouldn’t take long before she was stomping into the bathroom, all fury and flouncing hair. He had smirked in victory when she had burst through the door, and now with her stake pressed into his chest—ruining one of his favorite shirts—and trying to be all lethal sounding, he was positively gloating inside. And, he noted, a little turned on. But hey, he’d been stuck in Giles’s flat forever now, and she was female, and okay, maybe a little cute, and it wasn't like his dick knew who it should lurch towards. He shifted a little under her stake, so she wouldn’t notice the issue happening in his pants.

“Hello? You in there?” She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. What the hell is his problem? He screams and screams and then goes all space-case when I come in?

Spike made a concerted effort to wipe the smirk off his face, shoving out his lower lip and making a little huffing sound. “Wot? I just missed you luv. Can’t deny a bloke the pleasure of your company. ‘S lonely in here.”

Buffy briefly considered just “tripping” and letting the stake “accidentally” find its way into Spike, but he was doing some kind of pouty thing that, even though it was undoubtedly designed to piss her off, was still kind of distracting. She stood up, shoving the stake into her back jeans pocket. She pressed her fingers into her temples in an effort to not kill him.

Spike might not be able to bite and drain Buffy, but he could sure try to kill her by aggravating her to death. He shifted again now that the stake was gone, his cock now fully hard at the thought of another dead Slayer. He twisted his pout into a leer, and scraped his eyes down her body. “And I bet your company could be quite… pleasurable.”

“Oh my god.” Buffy whirled around and stormed back towards the bathroom door, cheeks flaming, suddenly very aware that he now had a full view of her ass in her tight jeans as she stormed away, slamming the bathroom door behind her. Damn him! He always did that! Why is he so good at catching me off guard?

“Aw c’mon pet! I was just teasing! You’re right virtuous and I’d never dream of sullyin’ that!” He grinned. She had blushed like fireworks had burst under her skin at his comment and then had stormed out. Oh yeah. This was gonna be a fun night, if he survived it.

***

Buffy stomped into the kitchen, intent on doing something, anything, to distract her from the now endless stream of commentary emanating from the bathroom. God that vampire could talk. Did he ever, ever shut up? Now he was going on about Slayers and virtue and how she was fated to die a virtuous, unsullied death, “But no, wait. That’s right, the Poofter already sullied you, and wasn’t there some scrawny, pimply college boy in there too?” Spike had figured out a long time ago that her love life was a quick way to get under her skin, and had proceeded to goad her with taunts on the subject until she just got used to it. In a way, she guessed she should thank him for it, because he had through his own cruelty helped her get over the hurt. But god, she still wanted to stake him.

She popped open the fridge door, and tried again to tune him out.

“How’s it feel pet? To know that neither boy wanted you? Gotta say, I’m not sure I woulda left your tight little body so quick.”

She rummaged in the fridge, trying to make as much noise as possible.

“Must’ve done something to scare 'em off, I’d say.”
She slammed the fridge door, causing some sort of avalanche of condiments inside.

“Was it your Slayer strength? Or maybe you’re into a bit of the kink.”

“God, Shut the hell up!” She slammed the sandwich she had found onto the counter, smashing it, and walked back into the bathroom. She glared at him, all comfy in the tub, mouth opening for another twisted observation into her love life. “What is your damage? Seriously? Cause this whole ‘try to piss off Buffy’ thing, it’s getting kinda old.”

“Told ya pet. Lonely in here.” He grinned at her.
She clenched her fists, and felt fresh sweat burst on her skin in anger. She forced herself to take a deep breath.

“That’s it luv. Take a breather.” His grin widened. Although he would never admit it out loud, Red’s observation earlier about him doing annoying little things in place of, well, killing all of them was kind of true, hence his using Buffy as a verbal punching bag.

“What’s it gonna take to get you to shut up.” She scowled, realizing that the only way he would be quiet would be if he got something he wanted.

Spike paused. Was she going to make a deal with him? Oh this was good. What could he get out of her? What did he want? Unbidden, an image of her ass as she bounced out of the bathroom earlier flashed in his mind. Uh, no. Not that. Definitely not. “Let me out of the chains, wanna stretch my legs.” Bollocks. Didn’t really think that one through. No way was she going to let him out, and now she would probably realize how stupid dealing with him was in the first place and storm out again.

Only she wasn’t. She was just standing there, looking at him with an odd expression on her face.

Buffy was a little surprised that he hadn’t come up with something horribly diabolical. In the face of all the things, many of them extremely raunchy, that he could have said, his request sounded strangely reasonable.

Spike tried to sit as quietly as possible. She looked for all the world like she was actually considering what he had said. He tried to bite his tongue, but his nature got the better of him. “Besides, it's not like you’re not gonna have to use the loo at some point. Want me in here watching? Cause I could get into that, you know.” He grinned at her, and mentally kicked himself.

“You’re disgusting.”

She turned and walked out, and Spike groaned to himself. Stupid wanker. She was gonna let you out and you had to go and muck it up.

Buffy walked back into the living room and opened Giles’s desk where he kept the keys to Spike’s chains. Her inner slayer was screaming at her to suck it up and just ignore the vampire, but her inner Buffy bitch-slapped her to shut her up. She was hot, tired, mentally exhausted and damn him, he was right about her having to use the bathroom. She hadn’t even thought of it before he said it. Besides, what damage could he do? He couldn’t hurt her, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to take off, not with soldier boys after him. And if he pissed her off she could always wrangle him back into the tub and stuff a sock in his mouth. Hm. Wrangling Spike into a tub. Spike in a tub. Naked Spike. She felt a twinge somewhere down below her belly at that thought and quickly realized where her thoughts were heading. What the hell? Where did that come from? No! No naked Spike! Bad Buffy! Must be the heat. I’m getting delirious.

She found the keys and walked back into the bathroom. Spike’s eyes widened.

“Have a change of heart, Slayer?” He tried his best to keep sarcasm out of his voice, but failed. “Cause I was kinda lookin’ forward to bath time.”

Buffy’s breath hitched and her heartbeat jumped as his words unknowingly echoed her own devious thoughts of not thirty seconds ago. “Well, you’re neutered. It’s not like you can do anything if I let you out of the tub.” Great Buffy. Challenge the Master Vampire to do something bad. She went to examine the mess of locks Giles had used.

“I don’t think neutered is quite the right word, pet.” He flicked his eyes over her body again, but she didn’t see as she was preoccupied with finding the right lock. He had heard her breath stop and her pulse quicken when he mentioned the bath, and thought that he had smelled something slightly naughty. But then it was gone, and he chalked it up to wishful thinking and getting to know his own left hand a bit too well.

She was leaning over the tub, her thighs pressed against the edge, while she rattled the chains. She was forced to reach up, and Spike’s eyes followed the curve of her thighs and her stomach, then her breasts as they pushed out against the fabric of her tank top. He heard a click, and the chains fell down behind the tub, still attached to his wrists.

“Uh, luv, you might’ve wanted to undo the wrist shackles first.” He paused. “I take back what I said earlier about the kink. Clearly, you have a lot to learn.” He smirked at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Guess I’m just not the dominatrix you thought I was Spike. I’m not in the habit of chaining people up.” She grabbed the chain and yanked his wrists up so she could unlock them.

Spike’s cock, already semi-hard from his examination of her body moments before, jumped at the rough treatment. “Night’s still young pet.”

“God, do you ever quit?”

“Vamp stamina, luv.”

Buffy made a low sound of aggravation, shoved the key into the lock of first one wrist, then the other, unlocking them. She stood over him. “This stops now. That’s the deal, right? I let you out, you stop being a pain in my ass.” She dropped the shackles on him.

Spike stood up, shoving the chains aside, momentarily distracted by the pleasure of stretching out his muscles. He reached over his head, grasped his hands together, and leaned first to one side, then the other.

Buffy watched him get up and stretch, his shirt pulling out of his jeans and lifting up slightly to expose the lower part of his abs. That’s a six-pack. Jeez. Wow. When she had been unlocking his chains she had glanced down at him and seen his eyes moving over her body. She had abruptly returned to the task at hand, and she didn’t think he noticed that she noticed what he was doing. And now she was ogling him? What the hell was going on? First naked naughty Spike-thoughts and now she was eyeing his lean musculature? Uh oh. Bad, bad Buffy! Gotta be the heat. God, it was hot in here. She forced her eyes up to the ceiling, but they popped back down, of their own volition, she’d swear, and rested square on the fly of his jeans. Oh. My. God. Is that… She abruptly turned around and walked out of the bathroom.

Spike dropped his hands just as the Slayer stormed out of the bathroom again. Looks like I got her knickers all in a bunch, again. Wasn’t even trying. He snickered to himself as he stepped out of the tub, and his pants rubbed the wrong way on his erection.

Oh. He had forgotten about his dick for a second, he had been so relieved to get out of the shackles. And then he had stretched out, no doubt giving her a nice, good view of his now very tight pants. Gonna stake me now for sure. He walked over to the sink and splashed some water on his face, giving himself, or rather his dick, a minute to relax. What the hell was going on? When did he start lusting after the Slayer? Sure, he always got hard when he thought about ripping her throat out, and often wanked off to that thought, but he hadn’t been thinking about that this time. He felt his mind start to wander to bad places, where sex and blood and violence were all mixed together in an indecipherable mess. With some effort, he wrenched it back. No way was he going to end up dust or back in the tub. He wanted to enjoy his freedom for as long as possible.

Buffy walked back into the kitchen and started randomly opening cupboards, trying to keep herself occupied and her mind away from what she had just seen. Spike’s cock. She slammed a cupboard door and opened another one. Spike’s hard cock. This was so not of the good! She reached into the cupboard and grabbed a jar. Images of the huge bulge pressing at the front of his jeans assaulted her brain. God, it had been big. The twinges between her legs started up again. She cranked open the jar. What was wrong with her? She felt dizzy and hot, sweat starting to drip down her back and between her breasts.

“You gonna eat that pet? Cause, I really thought you’d be pickier about what you put in your mouth.” Buffy froze, and looked down at what she was holding. Pickled squid. Ew!

“Yeah, I like squid. And I am picky. I’m all with the picky. Picky, that’s me.” She was babbling now, her brain frantically trying to figure out a way to not have to eat the squid that she was now cornered with. Fortunately, he just smirked at her and walked back into the living room, plopping himself into the leather armchair in the corner.

Spike watched from the corner as she shoved the jar back in the cupboard. He smiled at the thought of Giles opening it months later and getting a good strong whiff of unrefrigerated dead squid. Damn, she was flustered. He wondered why it was affecting her so much. He gave her a hard time about her sexual history, but he didn’t really believe she was as innocent as she put up. Surely she’d seen a hard-on before? Or maybe she was so innocent she had simply never noticed. Bollocks. She’s a slayer. All power and passion. Maybe it’s because it was him. Maybe she had noticed it in a way she wasn’t prepared for. Maybe that sniff I caught earlier wasn’t in my head. Heh. Either head. His smile broadened at his little joke, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

Buffy turned on the water at the sink and washed her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. She couldn’t deny that there had been times in the past, particularly when they fought, that she had had flashes of fantasy where they would be punching, kicking, her every move blocked and matched, where she would get in one good kick, and be on top of him, straddling him, grinding into his crotch. Or, she would slip, and his hand would be around her throat, shoving her up against the wall, as he would press himself between her legs and hold her there, captive. They were so well matched, physically, that she had excused her mental forays as mere extensions of the violence. They had certainly never occurred, in you know, reality.

And now this? She had been staring like a schoolgirl in the bathroom, and the sight of his obvious erection had made her all twitchy in her down-there parts. She turned off the water and rubbed her hands aggressively on the towel. No. I’m just hot and exhausted. And it’s been awhile, since I had, well, that. He’s just around and my fried brain is confusing my desire to kill him with something else. Satisfied with her logic, she turned around and walked back into the living room, flopped down on the couch, tucked her feet up under her and grabbed one of the fashion magazines out of her book bag, determined to ignore the vampire that now appeared to be dozing in the corner.

Spike had listened to her wash her hands for like five minutes and then come back in and drop down on the couch. He had taken a deep breath, grateful for his heightened sense of smell, and had been rewarded with the slight tang of arousal wafting by from Buffy walking through the room. He smiled to himself. She could deny it all she wanted, but he knew now. She wanted him. She might never, ever admit it, but right now, or at least before, she wanted him.

He had smelled her before, when they fought. But, that was different. He got hard, she got wet. It was just the way it was when you were fighting for your life, or trying to kill someone. And they were well matched. God, if they fought that well together, the shag must be damn near heaven! Or hell. He grinned. Depended on the perspective.

He opened his eyes. She was sitting there, curled up in a ball, some chick mag on her lap. She was turning the pages quick and hard, and he heard her swear when she accidentally tore one. Gotta lighten the mood, or she’s gonna combust.

“So, Slayer, where’s Captain Cardboard?” You git! Supposed to calm her down, not piss her off more!

Buffy just rolled her eyes. “Dunno. Something about camping. Male bonding or something.”

Well this was interesting. The Slayer seemed patently disinterested in what her muscle-bound boy toy was up to. “Male bonding? You sure about that?”

“Whatever. He’s all moon eyes at me. He’s not shacking up with some chick if that’s what you’re suggesting.” She glanced up at him and turned another page.

Spike was quiet, thinking. She hadn’t been with the ponce that long, and she was clearly already bored. Well, that’s to be expected. She’s a slayer. Needs a bit of monster in her man. No way is he giving it to her the way she needs. Git’s probably not givin’ it to her at all. Spike’s brain started to derail again to the bad place. Snap out of it! She’s finally calming down. Plenty of time later to rile her again. “Blood.”

Her head snapped up again. “What?”

Spike had latched onto the first non-naked thought that had jumped into his head, which, being that he was a vampire, turned out to be blood. And actually, he was noticing now that he was hungry. Couldn’t remember the last time the Watcher had deigned to feed him. Fucker. “Yeah. Blood.” He pointed at his stomach. “Hungry.” He rested his hand there, rubbing circles around his abs. He quirked up the corner of his lip in a soft leer, leaned his head back, and narrowed his eyes. “Feed me.”

Buffy just looked at him. He was saying something about blood, and touching himself, and giving her a look that was most clearly not a look having to do with hunger. At least, not hunger for food. She was yanked out of her distraction at his last two words, and she felt her anger surge.

“Does everything have to be all about the innuendo with you? God! You’re a pig Spike!”

He laughed. “Yeh I’m a pig. A big bad pig.”

She looked like she was going to throw her magazine at him, but instead jumped up off the couch and stamped into the kitchen. He was so aggravating! Maybe if he’s sucking down some pig’s blood his mouth will be too full to talk.

Spike got up and followed her into the kitchen, his eyes watching her hair as it skittered across her back, sticking to the sweat on her skin. She walked up to the fridge, yanked it open, and a few loose jars threatened to roll out. Reaching in the back, she grabbed a Styrofoam tub of blood, turned around and set it on the counter.

He had been staring at her ass again as she bent over to reach into the fridge. Her tank top had slid up a little bit, exposing her lower back. It was tanned and shiny with sweat, and Spike found himself lost in a mental image of her, bent over, naked and sweating, one of his hands tangled in her hair and the other gripping her hip, as he pounded into her from behind. Blood flooded his cock again, and he was suddenly dizzy with an onslaught of lust.

Buffy shoved the tub of blood over at Spike, and she gasped when she looked at him. He was leaning on the counter, his hands gripping the edge, knuckles white. His eyes were dilated and his mouth slightly open, his tongue running lightly over his lower lip. The look on his face was one of pure want, and Buffy felt a shock shoot from her throat directly to her pussy, and a surge of moisture into her panties.

When she looked up at him, Spike gripped the counter as hard as he could in a desperate effort to retain control. A torrent of emotions had shot across her face; first shock, then anger, then… was that desire? A sudden blast of a distinctly Buffy scent hit his nostrils then, and he felt the floor drop away as he realized his own lust was being reflected in her eyes. The scent was so strong. Her knickers must be soaking.

Just as quickly as he realized what was happening, reality returned with a jolt as disgust replaced the want that had been so clearly stamped on her face.

Slayer-Buffy had drop-kicked her hormones. She had stood there for a few seconds, staring at Spike, her body launching into full-betrayal mode and just about to do something so not of the good. He looked like he was about to pounce on her, the muscles of his arms corded and tight, and she realized with a mental shove that this was Spike, master vampire, Slayer of Slayers, twisted, pervy, irritating, evil Spike!

“God, shut up!” She rushed past him, down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door. And then she realized he hadn’t said anything and she had told him to shut up, and the embarrassment that she had been trying to quash suddenly dominated her world. She sat on the floor in front of the tub, hooking her thumbs in her pockets and leaning her head back. She could feel the damp between her legs, and her face started to burn.

What the hell is wrong with me? Spike is so seriously off-limits! He’s bad, and evil, and soooo not hot! He’s, like, thin and pale and his hair is weird and he’s all muscley and his eyes are really blue except when he’s looking at me like that and then they’re almost black, and oh my god, what the hell is wrong with me?

She jumped up and turned on the sink and washed her hands again. Maybe it’s a spell. Oh! No, it’s the thrall! Yeah, that’s it. He’s put the thrall on me! But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. She knew that parts of her had been pulled towards Spike since the first night she had seen him, and every time they fought, she had to consciously crush the draw she felt, and change her panties, like ASAP.

Sometimes, when they would end up tangled in a battle of sheer strength, she would feel his hardness against some part of her. She would secretly revel in it, although she had never consciously admitted that little bit of info to herself before now.

She groaned as she rinsed off her hands, annoyed with herself for hiding in the bathroom. No, not hiding, just trying to get some privacy from the annoying vamp in the other room. Who I was just staring at like he was candy. Who was staring at me like I was candy. That he wanted to eat. Oh god.

While Buffy beat herself senseless for her apparently out of control hormones, Spike was busy trying to regain control of his own body. She had rushed out, obviously distraught, and he knew exactly why. She wouldn’t have reacted like that unless she had felt some of what he was feeling too; she would’ve just made some snide, unimaginative comment and probably dumped his blood down the sink out of spite. Still gripping the counter, he flexed the muscles in his back, closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He growled. Damn Slayer. Throwing his simple world into turmoil. He tilted his head until his neck popped and felt his anger rise. Where does she get off? Gets her knickers all twisted, just cause the current isnt givin’ it to her proper. Course she’d be all prudish and have a little meltdown at the slightest indication that she’d be knocked off her high horse!

Opening his eyes, he reached down and adjusted himself in his pants, which had become painfully restrictive against his engorged cock. He could hear her running the water in the bathroom. Probably tryin’ to wash away her sins. Stupid bint.

His body was quivering. He was coming down off his lust-fueled high and he was starving. He looked at the tub of blood in front of him, and decided it was probably a damn good distraction at the moment. Popping off the top, he was about to chug it down cold—well, at room temperature—when he caught a glimpse of something floating in it. Looking into it, he swirled the liquid around and saw that there were chunks of coagulated blood in there, and it didn't smell quite right. Damn. It had been sitting in the warm fridge all day and had gone bad. That’s perfect. No blood. No telly. He heard the water in the bathroom shut off, and clenched his teeth again. And definitely no shagging.

He shoved the blood aside and started pacing through the living room, feeling like a caged animal. He was hungry. And horny. And really wanted a smoke. He strode over to his duster on the coat rack and patted down the pockets until he felt a stiff square in one. Reaching in, he sighed in relief as he pulled out the box. He flipped it open and nearly roared in frustration when he saw that it contained nothing more than a few stray flecks of tobacco in the bottom. He crushed the box and stood there, every muscle tensed, eyes closed, as he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. His useless lungs filled and collapsed, filled and collapsed, and he purposely relaxed every muscle, starting with his head on down to his feet. He opened his eyes and felt some of his clarity restored.

He had thought this was going to be a fun night. Damn it, he was going to have fun, and screw the Slayer if she wanted to spend it locked in the bathroom. No, wait. Not screw the Slayer! Ignore the Slayer. Yeh.

He walked over to Giles’ desk and rifled through it till he hit the jackpot, a deck of cards, unopened and buried in the back. He ripped off the cellophane and upended the box on the coffee table, noting that they were the plain paisley type. Hmmph. No nekkid tarts. Think the Watcher’s a poofter.

Buffy was pacing in the bathroom. She had heard Spike moving around the living room, his boots stomping hard enough to shake the walls. She could feel the gooeyness in her panties still. Walking over to the toilet, she unzipped her pants and dropped them and her panties, sitting down. Reaching down between her legs, her breath caught as her fingers slid down into her folds. I am drenched. Her fingers came away covered in fluid, and she stared at them for a moment, mesmerized. She couldn’t remember ever having been this wet before, not with Angel, certainly not with Parker, and she couldn’t really imagine it happening with Riley either. And all just from looking at Spike. And he had obviously wanted her. What am I going to do? She was more embarrassed and shocked at herself than anything now, and not terribly worried that he was going to jump her. What’s he gonna do? Force me? She shivered as images of Spike overpowering her shot past her eyes. Goddamnit. She wiped herself clean as best she could and yanked up her panties and jeans.

She walked over to the door, and put her hand on the knob. I can do this. I am the Slayer. Feared. I am not afraid of some chipped, crippled vamp. And if he looks at me like that again, I’ll just make with the slayage. Just tell Giles he tried to escape. Yeah. It was a fight to the death. She patted her back pocket. The stake was still there, tucked in neatly.

Turning the knob, she walked calmly out into the living room. He was there, sitting in the middle of the couch, engrossed in a card game. He didn’t look up.

“Blood’s bad.” He picked up a stack of cards and placed them over an eight of spades.

That wasn’t what she was expecting him to say. Well what were you expecting? Did’ja really think he was gonna come at you with some sexy offer? This is Spike. He of the giant ego. He’s not gonna do that after you stormed out. Which is good. Definitely. All that passed through her head, but all that came out of her mouth was “Huh?”

Now he looked up. “I see you’re back to your witty self, Slayer.” He glared at her before tearing his eyes away and back to his game of Solitaire. He dragged the words out like he was speaking to a child. “The blood. From the fridge. Is bad.”

His snarky tone eased the mood back into normalcy. She flicked a stray hair over her shoulder and marched over to the table, picking up a book at random and flipping it open. “So. You drink dead blood all the time. Don’t be a baby and drink it.”

He grimaced at the thought. “Dead blood and rancid blood are not the same. You eat dead chickens, but not if it’s rotten, am I right?” He paused, unsure if he should continue. Fuck it. “Oh wait, forgot about the Great Poof. You like dead meat.” He grinned. And then yelped in pain as he felt something hard ricochet off the back off his head. A book. The bint threw a book at me! “Oi! What the hell was that for! I'm just playin’!” He turned around, but instead of a scowl, there was a ghost of a smile on her face. Figures she’d have to get violent to calm the fuck down. He rubbed the back of his head. “Feel better now, do you pet? Good. Go get me some more blood.”

“Did you ride the short bus? First off, the power’s out. The blood at the butcher shop’s probably bad too. Second, even if it was good, I would so not go get it for you. You can starve for all I care.” She glared at him, feeling much better now that they were on familiar ground, bickering and throwing things. Her tone turned high and sickly sweet. “What’s gonna happen Spikey? You gonna waste away? Get all drawn and sunken looking? More pale? Oh, poor, poor Spikey.”

Spike stared at her; she was on a roll now. His eyes turned dark. “Well I won’t turn into an anorexic cheerleader.” He got up and walked over to her, putting one hand on the table and leaning in. “Ever been around a vamp who hasn’t fed in days? They’re the ones who are beyond bloodlust. They are nothing but the desire to feed, everything else disappears. And a master vamp?” He chuckled, low and menacing. “You would be begging to feed him just to escape the torture he’d inflict upon you in his wrath.”

Buffy watched as he descended into evil Big Bad mode. He was practically leaning over her, and she would have probably gotten a little nervous if he wasn’t so hot like that and if it weren’t for the simple fact that he was, well, chipped and therefore unable to follow up on his threats. It was kind of pathetic, actually. Besides, how many times had she fought Spike and whupped his ass? She had lost count long ago. God, it was almost funny. No, actually, it was funny.

Spike’s eyes widened as she burst out laughing, and he straightened. He howled through clenched teeth. “Bloody hell, Slayer!” He clenched his fists. “This is bloody painful! Have some sympathy for the bloke with chip, would you? Can’t you at least bloody pretend to be scared? Do you think I enjoy being forced to beg for pig’s blood from my mortal enemy?” He moved to punch her, but stopped himself and instead shoved some books on the floor in frustration.

Buffy tried to stifle her laughter, but tears were starting to leak out of her eyes in her mirth. “Sorry! Sorry.” She covered her mouth and tried to put on her serious face. “You’re very, very scary. The Baddest of the Bad.” She sputtered as more laughter burst out.

Spike groaned, hands on his hips, and stared at the ceiling. He looked back down at her, eyes watering, lips pressed tightly together with the effort of containing her laughter and he broke into a grin. He shook his head, laughing a bit himself now. “Sorry pet. Just sayin’. Don’t like having to ask you for food. Right humiliating it is.” He laughed again, and then had a spark of an idea. “I know somethin’ that’ll take the edge off.”

Buffy’s laughter died and her eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest, hiding herself. “What? No! No taking the edge off!”

Spike snickered. “Actually, I was talkin’ about raiding your Watcher’s stash. I know he’s got some good stuff.” He lifted an eyebrow. “But, if you’ve got other ideas…” He let his voice trail off.

Buffy felt her cheeks get hot. “Uh, no. You are so not going to drink Giles’ alcohol. He’d kill me.” She paused. “No, actually, he’d kill you.”

“Yeh, so what’ve you got to lose, luv? C’mon. We’ve got naught else to do. No telly. No decent food or blood. No smokes. We can have a couple an’ play some cards. Innocent like.” He smirked, punctuating the last statement.

Buffy was shocked that she was actually considering it. She hardly ever drank, having had a few bad experiences. But she was here at Giles', not out at some bar or frat party, and it wasn't like Spike could do something to her. She pointedly ignored the part of her brain that was trying to tell her that Spike most certainly could do something to her, if not actually hurt her.

Spike watched her as she had an internal battle with her morals. He really hoped she’d remove that stake from her tight ass and agree to have some drinks. Of course, Spike had exactly zero intention of stopping at “a couple.” If he got hold of the alcohol, he was going to get wasted and hopefully forget about this entire fucked up day.

Spike tried to make his tone light. “Well? Whaddya say, Slayer? Fancy a bit?” She looked confused. “Alcohol.” He sighed. “Where is it?”

Buffy pretended she had already made her decision. “Bookshelf in the corner. On the bottom, behind the statue-thingies.” Spike strode over to the corner and unceremoniously shoved the icons aside.

Ahh yeah. Whiskey. This is the good stuff. He pulled it out and admired it for a moment before twisting the top off and taking a swig, loving the burn as it slide down his throat.

Buffy watched as he drank directly from the bottle. Ew. Spike lips all over the bottle. He walked over and held it out to her. She looked at the mouth of the bottle pointedly and walked back to the kitchen, taking out a couple of glasses.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh right. Gotta worry ‘bout those vamp germs. Might catch the snogging disease or somethin’.”

“The what?” She walked over to the couch and sat the glasses on the coffee table. Sitting down, she absently took the stake out of her back pocket when it pinched her, and dropped it on the floor. Stupid vampire. Can’t understand half of what he says.

“Snogging disease. Mono or some such rot?” He watched as she gathered up the cards. “Oi, bloody hell! I was playin’ that game!”

She ignored him. “You said we were gonna play cards. And mono? Seriously? Can vamps get that? Cause I thought you were like, invulnerable to human sickness and stuff.”

Spike sat on the couch, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. “Are you daft? I was joking.” He grabbed the tumblers and filled them both nearly to the brim. Somewhere in the back of his head was this itching idea that he probably shouldn’t be getting drunk with the Slayer right now, not after earlier. And she was sitting there, trying to shuffle, cards popping out, and she was getting frustrated, and now she was throwing them on the table and just mixing them up, and he was momentarily rapt by the little wrinkle her nose was doing, and the sheen on the back of her neck where her hair had been swept aside.

“Stupid cards.” She shoved them back into a stack and put them down on the table, patting the pile. “There. All shuffley.”

He blinked and reached for the cards, expertly shuffling them again once. He cleared his throat and took a swig of his drink, hoping that he’d start to feel a bit of a buzz soon. She picked up her drink, sniffed it suspiciously, and looked up at him. He smirked at her. “What’s a matter Slayer? Can’t handle a man’s drink?”

She rolled her eyes and took a quick drink in reply. Easy Buffy. Just tastes bad. Don’t be a wuss. Despite herself, she grimaced and choked, making a disgusted sound as her throat constricted. “God. I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. And I’ve eaten Anya’s cooking.”

Spike laughed. She looked like she had taken a swig of gasoline. “Yeh but it feels good goin’ down, don’t it?” He grinned, but she didn’t seem to catch his double-entendre.

After she stopped coughing, she laughed a little too. She decided then that she was going to have fun. She felt the alcohol slide down her throat and the warmth spread out, overheating her already hot body. She was the Slayer, and the Slayer never, ever got to have fun, not without someone hanging over her head ready to tell her to quit and go do her job. Her Watcher was gone, Xander and Anya were definitely busy with each other, and Willow was probably hanging out with some of her new witchy friends. And that left Buffy alone with Spike, a bottle of top-shelf whiskey, and a deck of cards. Spike at least won’t tell me to leave and go kill something. She sat up straight, looked right at him and took another swig, this time steeling herself enough to at least not cough. Of course, part of her knew that getting drunk with Spike was probably not of the good. Definitely not of the good. Shut the hell up. I’m going to have fun. I can control myself, and so can he. He hasn’t lived this long by not controlling himself. And with that she suppressed her inner voice of faulty reason with another swig.

Spike watched as the Slayer took a few drinks as he absently dealt cards. She actually looked like she had every intention of getting smashed. This was turning out to be one weird day, and that was saying something for him. He took another drink as she scooped up her stack, and gave a tiny smile of pleasure as he felt the first twinges of a healthy buzz kick in.

Buffy was looking at her five cards rather confusedly. “So, um, what’re we playing?”

“Poker.” He paused as her look of confusion was replaced by one of trepidation. “Uh, you do know how to play poker, right luv?”

“Sure!” She bit her lip and moved some of her cards around. “It’s basically like Yahtzee, but with cards, right?” She took another drink.

“Bloody hell.” He snorted, looking up at her. She was chewing on her lower lip, staring at her cards, and damn if she wasn’t cute like that. Spike figured that this was actually Buffy and not the Slayer; a shy girl, maybe a bit insecure. She looked like she was concentrating really, really hard, and he wondered if she was already on her way to drunkenness. He glanced at her glass; Bloody hell, it’s already half empty. “Would you rather play something more your speed pet? Like War? Or Go Fish?”

She bounced on the couch at that. “Go Fish? Can we? Yes! As the Slayer, I’m deciding we will play Go Fish.” She snatched his cards out of his hand and proceeded to reshuffle by spreading them around on the coffee table.

“Well then. Go Fish it is. Though I can’t rightly say I remember how to play.”

“That’s good, because you’ll probably cheat anyways so it’ll even out.” She flashed a 100 watt smile before dealing out the cards.

Buffy was feeling good. Now that she had drunk most of her glass, she was definitely feeling the alcohol. Her throat was tingling and the room was getting a little wobbly around the edges, and Spike was looking a little wobbly too. And kind of cute. No, kind of hot. Oh yeah, he’s hot. I’m drinking so I’m allowed to think that. Actually, he’s getting kind of dark too. Hmm. Can’t see him too well.

“Do you have any sevens.” Spike was thoroughly ashamed to be playing Go Fish with the Slayer. Bloody hell, if this got out in the demon world I’d be a dead man. Deader man. He glanced up when the Slayer didn’t respond, and flinched back a few inches. “Uh, Slayer, what’re you doing?” She was leaning in towards his face, eyes wide, very close. Holy shit, is she gonna kiss me? He froze, momentarily dumbfounded, the alcohol dulling his reaction time. She’s gonna kiss you, you git! Do something! Grab her and kiss her or punch her or something! His dick jumped in his jeans, letting it be known which option it wanted.

She started squinting. “Can’t see you. You’re all dark and stuff. Except for your hair. It’s like a spotlight.” Then she giggled. He looked funny, all confused and stuff.

Spike glanced around and realized it had gotten dark in the last few minutes since they sat down, and she was leaning into him to see better in her now semi-drunken state. Good thing you didn’t kiss her mate, she probably would’ve done something depraved in her drunken state. That thought set off a slew of fantasies involving Buffy, her stake, and himself all trussed up in compromising positions. He shook his head, trying to clear out some of the alcohol-induced sex fog. “Yeh pet, got dark.” He got up and lit the candles that were placed around the room. Wasn’t a lot of light, but at least she could see.

“Awww! Candles, how sweet!” She made her voice high and feminine. “Are you coming on to me, Spike?” She put on her best girly face: wide eyes, batting lashes, and soft lips. She giggled again, really feeling a full-on buzz now. Now that she knew Spike wanted her, this was far more fun than threatening him. She could torment him in an entirely new way.

Spike was standing by the window when she started in with the teasing. He stood there, staring, as she put on the full uber sex kitten show. He could tell it was an act by the devious glint in her eyes, but that didn’t stop his body from reacting to it. Besides, bint may not be ready to admit it, but some of that’s the truth. She wants it. But if she was gonna play games like this, he could too.

She put a finger up to her lip, arching her back and looking up at him through lowered lashes. “Whatsa matter? Is the great Big Bad actually at a loss for words?”

He smirked, and made a big show of sliding his hand down his chest to his belt. He paused, looked right at her, and watched her eyes get huge and wide as he slid his hand into his pants and adjusted himself. She quickly averted her eyes, and reached for her glass to take a drink, only it was empty. “I'm not coming anywhere yet, pet. And certainly not coming on to you.” He walked back over and sat back down on the couch, further away from her this time. “Besides. Hate to burst your little bubble, but you ain’t my type.” He finished off his glass.

Buffy made a very unladylike sound. “What? Whatever! You were practically on top of me in the kitchen earlier!”

“So? Can’t blame a bloke’s been cooped up so long. Lunge at anything that moves.” He refilled both their glasses. This was becoming right fun, twisting the Slayer’s own game around on her. He started redealing the cards, one each through the entire deck. Hopefully she’d forget they were playing Go Fish.

Her mouth fell open in aggravation. “Oh I get it. I’ve got a pulse and I’m not looney tunes so of course! You’re right, definitely not your type.” She hastily snapped up her cards as he dropped them in front of her.

“Aw pet what’s wrong? You sound a mite bit disappointed!” He did his best to look consoling. “Course, if it’s that important to you, I could think about giving you a go.” He straightened his stack of cards in his lap, hiding the now obvious bulge there. Wouldn’t do him any good to tease her like this if she saw the evidence with her own eyes.

“Puh-leeease!” She snatched up her glass and took a long drink. “Like I would ever want that!”

“Oh right. You’re all pristine. Like an ice princess. Or a cold fish. Forgot.”

“What! I am so not a cold fish!”

“So you do want it then?” He smirked at her.

“What? No!” She pulled out a card and squinted at it. Black. Clover. No, no, that’s not right. “What’s this called?” She held up the card for Spike. “And what are we playing?”

“That’s a card, luv. And we’re playing War. Think you can keep up with that?”

“Duh! I know it’s a card! Stupid vampire. I meant the flower thingy.”

He snickered. She was getting right trashed. “That’s a club pet. Now you put yours down and I put mine down and then we see who wins.”

She snorted again. “I am not putting my anything down anywhere for you!”

“The card pet. Put your card down. Oi Slayer, think maybe you ought to slow down on the guzzling a bit?”

“You’re telling me to slow down? What’s wrong with you? Everyone’s gotta always tell the Slayer what to do.” She picked up her glass again, threatening to slosh the liquid out the sides as she gesticulated. “Go patrol. Go kill vamps. Go be your destiny. Go not have a life.” She took a swig. “Slow down, don’t drink.” She scrunched her face up as she tried to scowl at him.

“Easy there Slayer. Just meant at this rate you’ll pass out before the fun’s even started.” He gave her a suggestive look. “Which reminds me. What was it you were sayin’ before? That you did want it?”

“Ugh. Whatever.” She slapped her card down, nine of clubs. “Well?” She pointed at his cards.

He flipped a card. “Six of hearts. You win.” She started bouncing on the couch, clapping her hands like a little girl. And causing a great deal of liveliness in her apparently braless tank top, Spike noticed. She stopped and looked him square in the eyes, and pointed at his drink on the coffee table. “Drink.”

“What?”

“Drink. I won, you lost. So you drink.” She crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me the great William the Bloody doesn’t know how to play a drinking game.”

“Bloody hell luv. We are not playing War as a drinking game. We’ll both puke and pass out right quick.”

Buffy made a mewling sound. “Awww. Is the Big Bad scared he’ll get drunk under the table by a little woman?”

Spike groaned. She was clearly set on this. Fuck it. He took a drink. “Happy?”

She flashed the big smile again, and flipped another card as he flipped is. This time he won, and she pouted. “C’mon luv. Drink up.” He grinned at her as she sullenly took a drink.

Her face lit up. “I know! Let play with truth or dare rules!”

“How old are you pet? I mean, I know I’ve got 120 years on you, but…”

“No, It’ll be fun! When you win you get to pick if the loser has to drink or do a truth or dare!”

He rolled his eyes, but he was just drunk enough to think that might actually be fun. Maybe I can dare her to take on a nest of Granluf demons alone. Rid myself of her for good. He smirked. “All right Slayer.” He flipped a King, narrowly beating out her Queen. She pouted again.

He grinned at her, trying to decide if he should make her drink more or take a truth or dare. She’s already right sloshed. “So luv, want truth or dare?”

She groaned. God, anything Spike would ask her would probably be really perverted or disgusting, and any dare would likely end up with her in traction. At least I heal quick. “Dare.”

Spike smiled and took a minute staring off into the corner while he thought. This was just too good. Gotta take it easy at first though or she won’t want to keep playin’. His eyes travelled over to the kitchen, and he grinned. “Dare you to gobble up one of those squid you were eyein’ earlier.”

“What! No!”

“It's a dare pet. You lost, your rules.” He got up and walked to the kitchen, a little shocked that he was kind of unsteady. He went to the cupboard and took out the jar, and brought it back to the couch. He unscrewed the lid and held it out to her. She eyed it with a look of complete disgust. “What’sa matter luv? Thought you loved squid.” He grinned.

“Bastard. I just, I mean, I was just checking them earlier.” She scowled and realized she wasn’t going to get out of it without resorting to violence, and she did kind of want to keep playing. She reached a finger into the brine and got hold of something kind of stiff and slimy. “Oh, ugh.” She pulled it out, and without looking at it she popped it in her mouth and swallowed. Her face contorted into a look of extreme revulsion, and Spike laughed as he handed Buffy her drink to chase it with. She gulped it gratefully.

“Aw Slayer, I’m proud of you.” He laughed as he picked up his stack of cards again, swiping off the top card and flipping it down.

Buffy was doing her best not to vomit. That was disgusting. He’s gonna pay for that. She flipped her card, her Ace easily stomping his four. She grinned, and reverted to her sickly sweet voice. “Truth or dare?”

He thought for a second. What the hell. “Dare.”

She didn’t even pause. “Take a swig of that blood.”

“Oh like bloody hell I will. Stuff’s bad.”

“So was the squid.”

“Yeh but the squid wasn’t coagulated.”

She just crossed her arms and stood up, and strode into the kitchen to fetch the blood. She brought it back to the couch and looked into it. He was right, it was looking a little chunky. Too bad for him. She shrugged and held it out for him.

Spike glared at her. Bloody bint. She’s lucky I don’t tear her throat out and drink her blood. He grabbed the tub and tried not to smell it as he took a gulp.

He tried not to taste it either, but the sharp tang of it flooded his tongue as it slid down his throat, and he felt his face morph into a mass of ridges and fangs. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly good blood, but it was still blood damn it, and he was a vampire. A very hungry vampire, as he was now being brutally reminded. He felt the faint power of the dead blood surge into his lifeless veins, through his body and hardening his cock, and he tilted his head back, tensing the muscles in his neck. He reached out and blindly set the tub back on the coffee table, and brought his hand up to his face, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to regain control.

“Spike?” Buffy’s voice was quiet and held a trace of fear. Shit, I didn’t realize he was so hungry. And he’s drunk. Maybe the chip doesn’t work when he’s drunk? His eyes were now clamped shut, and she reached out and touched his knee lightly.

He jumped at the touch, and before he could stop himself he had grabbed her wrist and yanked her over his lap, her hip pressing into his hard cock. His eyes opened, and she found herself staring into the amber eyes of his demon, his hand a vise around her wrist. Her voice was a squeak. “Spike?” She twisted in his lap, trying to wrench herself free even as she felt fresh moisture surge into her panties. He growled as her efforts just ground her further into his dick. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a faint smile appearing around his fangs, and Buffy realized with a jolt that he could smell her. Oh my god. In desperation she twisted herself free and fell back on her side of the couch. Hands shaking, she reached out for her glass and took a drink to avoid looking at Spike.

He was shaking. And hard. And he had the taste of blood in his mouth. He had abruptly let her go when she had twisted her wrist, realizing in a flash that he was moments away from simply taking her, either biting her or fucking her into the floor, or both. Probably both. Bloody miracle I didn’t, what’s she playing at, stupid bloody bint? He took a deep breath and felt his face shift back to human form. His dick was still hard and his balls ached. Gonna bloody burst if I don’t get in a good wank soon. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Need some blood too. Damn rotten pig’s blood’s soundin’ a mite bit good right now. He opened his eyes, feeling more in control, and took a drink of whiskey, its bite helping him to calm him down further.

Buffy watched as Spike got control of himself. What the hell was that? No, I know what that was. He almost bit me. Or did something else. She shifted in embarrassment as she remembered the look on his face when he had smelled her arousal. It had been raw, completely animalistic. And it turned me on. She shook her head, and immediately regretted it when she got dizzy. Oops. Still drunk. And wait, what? No! That so did not turn me on! She leaned forward and started reorganizing her cards that had gotten strewn about.

Spike finally turned his head and looked at Buffy as she scooped up her cards. Now what? You git, you just about had your way with her.

Buffy got her stack sorted. She cleared her throat, her voice a little louder than she expected. “So, whose turn is it?”

So she was going to pretend nothing happened. That was fine with Spike. Bloody preferable. What am I gonna say? Sorry you were stupid enough to give a starving vamp a taste of blood? Sorry you soaked your panties in my lap? He rolled his eyes. He knew he had been nearly out of control, but he also knew that this whole situation was dangerous and he was just as responsible for getting into it in the first place. Besides, you idiot, this was all your idea. Just don’t think about how her hot crotch felt against yours. He rubbed his eyes again, and took another drink.

He put his glass down, and his voice was a little scratchy as he responded to her question. “Ah, yeh, no turns pet, remember? Just throw your card.”

“Oh yeah.” She laughed a little. She was surprised that she wasn’t more uncomfortable. Maybe it was the alcohol, but being around Spike like this, even with the now undeniable sexual tension, was still fun. Kind of relaxing too, in a weird way, because he didn’t hold her up to some ridiculous standard. Takes a mortal enemy who’s constantly trying to kill me to get me to have fun. Go figure. She laughed again and threw a card, then reached over and took a drink.

He flipped his over. She won again, and opted to make him drink. They played a few more hands, each time making the other drink. She was winning most of them, but she was drunker than he was to start so it just served to even them out.

Spike was relaxing again. He really was having fun, and now that his dick had subsided to a vague throb he was feeling less twitchy. He looked up at her as she threw down another card, her grin bright as she beat him again. And she really seemed to be having fun. He was surprised that she hadn’t gone all Slayer on him and either staked him or flounced away, drunk but still virtuous. Not that he was complaining.

Buffy was definitely drunk. But it was a weird drunk, where she was dizzy and giggly but still pretty coherent. She was really enjoying making Spike drink over and over again. Sure, she had to take a drink herself a few times, but hey, that was the game.

She started vaguely pondering what had happened when he drank the blood. Wow, he looked crazed. And so hot, even all bumpy like that. She wondered absently as she took a drink if he would look at her like that if he bit her. He’s always going on about ripping my head off and bathing in my blood or whatever. I wonder if it’s because it’d be like that, all sexy and monstery. She flipped a card over and won again. “Truth or dare?” She grinned.

Spike groaned. Wonderful. We’re back on the dares. He figured that he’d better not give her another opportunity to do something stupid. “Truth.”

She kept grinning, not missing a beat. “Do you ever think about biting me?”

Shit. “’Course I bloody do. I tell you all the time. Stupid question.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, do you ever, you know, think about biting me in a, I dunno, like not fatal way?” She immediately regretted asking the question as he just looked at her, and she started to feel a blush coming on. She covered it by taking another drink, and refilling their glasses.

Spike didn’t say anything. He watched her, the alcohol clouding his thoughts and confusing him. Is she asking if I want to bite her in a sexual way? Bloody hell, that is what she’s asking! Wait, why is she asking me that? Shit, what the hell am I gonna say? That I regularly wack off to thoughts of her blood spurting in my mouth as I shag her stupid and cum inside of her? Whoa, no, definitely don’t say that! But now she was looking at him, expectantly. Say something. “Yes.”

Buffy just gripped her glass. Before she had time to think further she asked another question, her voice quiet again. “What do you think about?”

Bloody hell! He felt his dick start to harden again. “That’s two questions pet. You only won one.” He picked up his drink, and looked at her over the brim as he drank. She was sitting there, eyes wide and a little red, her cheeks flushed. She pursed her lips.

He smiled at her, a dark, secret smile, as he flipped over another card. Her eyes widened further. “C’mon pet, turn your card.”

Buffy straightened in her cushion. Bastard! He’s gonna make me win it out of him? Whatever! I’m over it. I don’t want to know now. She flipped her card.

They looked at the two cards, his ten and her nine. “Hm. I believe you lose this one pet. Truth or dare?”

The devious tone in his voice made her nervous. And also a little curious. I am not eating squid again. Screw that. “Truth.”

He gave a small, dangerous smile, taking a moment to look into her eyes, making her more nervous. “Do you ever think about me biting you?” He twisted her own words back at her, and dropped his voice. “In a not fatal way?” He lifted a scarred eyebrow at her, making his meaning clear.

Buffy gasped. “What?”

“It's a fair question. You did ask me the same after all.” He was grinning at her now.

“Yeah but…” She stammered, and he leaned back on the couch, clearly unwilling to proceed until she answered his question. Oh God. Now what? Buffy was at a loss. She never would have admitted it before, even to herself, but she knew she had thought of it. The idea of being completely dominated by someone was not something she ever got to experience; she never got to be the damsel in distress. She was always, always stronger. And when she was up against someone who might be able to take her, she still managed to twist it around. The Master had killed her, but that didn’t take. Angelus might have been able to, but he was Angel and he had loved her, and when he had bit her it had scared her to death; all she had felt was fear and pain. And human guys weren’t even worth mentioning. But Spike, he was different. He was strong, just as strong as her. And he was all about domination and control; when he wanted something he wanted it in his gut and blood, and she imagined that if he were to bite her, it would be something beyond anything she had ever felt.

Buffy realized suddenly that not only had she thought about it, she wanted it. She wanted to feel him inside her in every way. It was dangerous, she knew, but somehow she also knew that Spike wouldn’t actually hurt her.

Spike watched her. Jesus, she was really thinking about it. He had expected her to just pop off with a “no” and be done with it. “Well pet? Ain’t askin’ you to solve world peace here.”

Buffy looked at him, wondering for the fiftieth time that day what was wrong with her. Must be the heat. And the alcohol. Yeah. He was thumbing the edges of his cards, making little flicking noises as he watched her with that half-smile on his face. Screw it. “Yes.”

Spike’s hands froze on the cards, and his smile disappeared. Buffy’s stomach dropped. Uh oh. God. He looks pissed, or something. What the hell?

Her face started to burn just as his smile reappeared, slow and sneaking. His voice was low. “Really.” Buffy shifted again and reached for her glass, but he leaned over and snatched it out of her reach before she could get it, never taking his eyes off of her. “Tell me pet, what do you think about?”

Buffy looked at her glass, desperately wanting it now. “Hey, that’s two questions. You wouldn’t answer mine.”

He snickered. “All right. You answer mine and I’ll answer yours.”

“Not fair. I asked you first.”

“Life’s not fair pet.” He rested his arm over the back of the couch, his body angled towards hers. “I'm waiting.” He grinned.

Buffy was rapidly losing contact with her sanity. What the hell was she supposed to say to him? She wasn’t about to launch into some sordid description, although it seemed that was what he was hoping for. And call it morbid curiosity, but she really did want to know what he thought about her. “Um, I dunno.” She looked away from him, the look on his face making her nervous again. “I guess I just wondered, you know, what it might be like.”

“What what might be like?”

Damn him! He wasn’t making this easy! She glanced back at him, and judging by the smirk he was now wearing, he was enjoying making it difficult. “You know, like, how it would feel. If you bit me.”

Spike just about came in his pants when she said that. He was so hard, and her confession that she had thought about him biting her was simply more than his body was able to take; his control was hanging on by a thread. He wondered how far he could take this. Buffy was sitting there, her hands clenched in her lap like a child, looking off somewhere to the left so she didn’t have to look at him. He shifted his weight on the couch, so that he was just fractionally closer to her. His voice was nearly a whisper. “Well, you know. I could show you.”

Buffy started, but didn’t turn to look at him. He was closer now, and she could sense his tension. She suddenly thought of earlier, in the kitchen, and how he had looked then; ready to pounce. Her body was going through a riot of emotion. Everything she felt for Spike came rushing to the surface. Hate, aggravation, lust, fear. Mostly fear. She was afraid of him. She was afraid of what he would do to her, what he would make her do. What she would want to do. But she was tired of being afraid. She hardly heard herself when she answered him. “Okay.”

Spike blinked. He hadn’t really thought she would go for it. Is she that drunk? No, she was blessed with Slayer metabolism and was already starting to look sober again. Bloody hell. She just gave me the OK to bite her. The zipper of his jeans was really starting to hurt, and he knew that the second this started there would be no going back. His body was quickly being overcome with lust. Gotta make sure this is what she wants first. Just once. Got to ask or she’ll stake you later. Course, she’ll probably stake you anyways. He forced himself to take a breath, and he spoke gently. “Slayer. Buffy. You sure about this luv?”

Buffy finally turned her head and looked at him. He was sitting up, his left hand clenching a throw pillow like he wanted to break its lack of bones. She was kind of surprised that he took a moment to make sure she was serious. The second she had said okay she had expected him to lunge at her or something. And he called you Buffy. He’s never called you that before. She felt a surge of clarity, and knew that he wouldn’t stop with just biting her. It would go farther than that. Much farther. And she knew she wanted it. She wanted to let go and let Spike take her over.

She looked at him, wanting him to see that she was serious. “I’m sure.” She paused. “I trust you.” Suddenly she remembered something. “What about the chip?”

Spike shook his head. He had thought about that already. “Don’t think it’ll fire if it’s voluntary. You know, if I don’t intend to really hurt you.”

Spike watched her, reveling in the moment. This is it mate. The slayer’s giving herself to you, willingly. Spike smiled at her. He wanted her with every fibre of himself, wanted her blood and her body and her mind. Wanted to make her his.

Buffy shifted in her seat, suddenly unsure of herself. “So, um, now what?”

She was so beautiful, sitting there, all nervous and flushed. He gazed at her for a moment. There was no way that this was going to be over soon. Luckily it’s still early. I’m going to take her every way, all night. “Easy pet. Don’t need to rush things.” He reached his hand out to her; he wanted her to come to him.

Buffy shied instinctively away from his hand, but he just smiled at her, and she reached out and took it. She knew what was happening. He was making her make the first move, to prove to him that she wanted it, wanted him.

His hand tightened around hers, and he pulled lightly as she scooted over to sit sideways on the couch, so that she was facing him, her shin touching his knee. He didn’t let go.

Spike couldn’t think anymore. She was sitting there, her hand in his, making no effort to get away. His dick was throbbing painfully, and he itched to undo his pants, but he resisted. Time for that later. He reached up with his other hand and touched her hair, then ran his fingers down the edge of her jaw. He smiled as her eyelashes fluttered at the light touch.

Then the gentleness was gone, and he quickly reached around the back of her neck and gripped her tight, his eyes lighting up with flashes of amber and lust as her mouth opened in surprise.

Buffy gasped, but still didn’t try to get away. He was leaning closer now, his face near hers, the light from the candles bouncing off his sharp cheekbones. His hold on her neck was strong enough to hurt.

Spike watched fear flash across her eyes and felt his demon growl, but maintained his human face. He held her neck tighter, and letting go of her hand reached around her waist and pulled her into him. He reveled in the feel of her warm body against his, her butt seated between his thighs, her upper body twisted into his aggressive embrace. Her thigh was resting against his cock, and he pulled her tighter into him, wanting her to feel his hardness, making her feel it. He heard her breath catch, and then she was panting, light and shallow, like a rabbit caught by a wolf.

She was tense, her neck craning against his hand. Even though it exposed her throbbing pulse, instinct had hold of her and she tilted her head away from him. He smiled, her obvious terror fueling his desire. He flexed his fingers against her lower back, pressing her more firmly against the bulge in his jeans. “Relax pet. It’s gonna be so good.”

Buffy felt like she was going to pass out. She was hyperventilating, and her body was surging with random shots of adrenalin and lust-producing hormones. Various parts of her were tingling like they’d been shocked; her wrists, the back of her neck, the skin over her jugular where Spike was now running his thumb back and forth. Coherent thought was long gone, and she couldn’t form a response other than a quiet, pleading moan.

And then he was leaning into her, holding her still, his eyes blue and his face still beautiful, and her brain shut down completely. She closed her eyes, and she felt his lips against the soft skin under her jaw, his thumb still caressing her pulsing throat.

He wasn’t kissing her so much as savoring her. He ran his lips down her flushed neck, tasting the salt, skimming over the spot he had been touching, inhaling her scent. He could smell her fear still, but now it was being taken over by a stronger, more primitive perfume. Arousal. It was wafting over her, clouding her skin and making him delirious. He snaked out his tongue and flicked her pulse point, and she involuntarily arched herself against him. Spike growled, and gripped her neck tightly, feeling his face change as his demon took over.

Buffy felt his fangs tear through her skin and pierce her vein, and she opened her mouth and let out a long, quiet gasp. The air around her exploded out from her neck, and her hand flew up and gripped the back of Spike’s head. He bit down hard, her blood bursting over his tongue, in his mouth, and his eyes rolled back and closed as ecstasy surged through every cell of his body. He squeezed her, constricting her like a boa, rubbing her against his cock as he took long, deep pulls of her blood.

Buffy could do nothing but hold on. She could feel his fangs in her neck, and it hurt, but he was right, it was so, so good! She could feel herself giving up, releasing herself, and she relaxed into him.

Spike felt her give in, and quickly, without relinquishing his bite, twisted himself around and leaned her back until she was lying down. He worked his knee between her thighs until she opened them, and he settled himself between her legs, lying on top of her, as he relished the feeling of her hot blood sliding down his throat.

Buffy let her head fall back. She tried to wrap her arms around him but he bit down harder, reaching down and grabbing her wrist, pulling it up over her head and pinning it there.

She shuddered, and he ground his pelvis into hers in response. Buffy felt a twist in her belly and a shock in her pussy and she gasped. Spike thrust himself hard against her, growling, and before she realized what was happening, her orgasm ignited and she was gasping his name as he grabbed her ass, yanking her roughly against his cock as he ground himself against her and pulled her hammering pulse into his mouth.

Spike felt her juices soak through both her jeans and his as her pelvis jerked in orgasm. Her blood was pounding through his veins, directly to his cock, and he knew he was moments away from his own orgasm when he heard her heart flutter. His demon screamed to ignore it, to fuck her and finish her off. But she was going limp from her release, and losing strength; another few seconds and he would have taken too much.

He was shaking as he carefully withdrew his fangs from her neck. Slowly, he licked the two holes there as he fought to regain control. He felt his face change and he shifted his weight off of her. His cock was painfully hard and slick with his own pre-cum, but she was gasping for breath, her eyes closed and her head tilted back.

He looked down at her and felt completely content in this moment; her blood sating his hunger but making him starved for her sex, knowing that he was going to have her, fuck her and make her scream as he came over and over again.

He smirked. She was gonna learn what it meant to have vamp stamina.

Buffy’s eyes were still closed, and her first semi-coherent thought was mmm. She quivered, and felt her arm flop back down from over her head onto her stomach. Wow. He was so not kidding about the good.

She could feel Spike’s tightly coiled tension next to her, and smiled a little bit as she flexed her body against him. In her post-orgasmic stupor, she was a little, well okay a lot surprised that she had just gotten off from being bitten. By Spike. Whoa.

But she wasn’t exactly troubled. Languorously, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was gazing at her, his hand resting lightly on her thigh. His eyes were dark with lust, and there was a little smirk on his face. She rolled her eyes and tried to inject some sarcasm into her voice, but it just came out hitched. “Could you look more arrogant?” He squeezed her thigh in response, and waggled an eyebrow. Oh, it’s so on.

Buffy stretched out again, squeezing her legs together and rotating her hips so they rubbed against Spike’s crotch. His smirk disappeared and he gripped her thigh tighter. She grinned, starting to feel her inner vixen. Heh. We’ll see how arrogant he is when I’m done with him.

She lifted her hand to his face, touching his cheek with one finger, then running it down along his lips. He opened his mouth slightly and caught her finger in his teeth, nipping and giving it a little suck before she popped it out of his mouth. “I didn’t say you could bite.”

His voice was husky. “Actually, isn’t that how this started? You telling me I could bite?” She gave him a stern look, and he smiled, wondering what was going through her little blonde head.

She brought her finger back to his mouth, but he didn’t try to catch it again. She ran it down under his chin and down his throat, traveling along the side of his neck to the same area where he had bitten her. She gave the tender spot a little scratch, and his head tilted and he moaned as his eyes closed.

She smiled and continued dragging her finger down past the collar of his shirt and past the hole her stake had made over his heart earlier. She didn’t stop, but kept moving down until she got to the waistband of his jeans, taut and stretched out a bit at the waist. It would be so easy for her to drop her finger down and slip unimpeded into his pants. Instead she drew it down over his belt, and scratched a hard line down the edge of his erection.

Spike’s pelvis jerked uncontrollably at the touch, and she snatched her hand away. Now it was her turn to smirk.

His eyes snapped open and he looked down at her. Well now doesn’t she look smug. His cock was pulsing and straining against his jeans, and he had definitely reached his limit on dealing with that kind of pain. Bloody bint doesn’t know what she’s messing with.

Before she could react, he had grabbed both her wrists, forcing them up over her head and pinning her under his body. He grinned at her as he pushed his dick against her crotch, moving his body like a wave over hers. He leaned down to her ear and she gasped as he ground against her again. “Now now, pet. It's not nice to tease.” He brought his mouth down to her neck and gave the bite mark a little lick.

Buffy’s whole body convulsed, shocks shooting out from the tiny holes. She groaned and tried to free her hands, but he held her tight. He lifted his head and she looked at him, smiling for a split second before bucking her body and drawing up her legs, bracing her feet against his stomach, and launching him to the other side of the couch.

Spike knocked his head against the side table, wincing. “Oi, bloody hell!” She kicked his boot from where it had rested on her shin.

She batted her eyelashes at him and jutted her lip out, affecting the tone of a spoilt child. “Now it’s my turn to have fun.”

“An’ that means makin’ me bleed now?” He felt another jolt in his groin at the thought.

“Maybe. You got a problem with that?”

He snickered, his hand moving down to cup his hard on. “No. Jus’ curious.”

Buffy smiled. She had a feeling there probably wasn’t much Spike wouldn’t get off on. She didn’t have any experience with kinky sex; hell, she didn’t have much experience with sex at all, she was practically a virgin. But Spike seemed to have forced his way into the place where her deepest, most hidden fantasies lived, and she found herself wanting things she couldn’t name or really even envision. Her smile turned devious and she gazed at him, watching as he squeezed himself through his jeans, while she tickled her fingers across her stomach.

He couldn’t help breathing heavily, even though his body didn’t need the air. She was just so fucking gorgeous, lying there like that. It would look almost innocent, the way she was touching herself, if it weren’t for the visible wetness in her pants and the slightly devilish look on her face. “So pet. It's your turn then. What do you want?”

Buffy ran her hand down her stomach to the waist of her jeans, slipping a finger underneath and into her panties, grazing the little curls there. She knew what she wanted to do, but suddenly lost the courage.

Spike saw her pause and caught the look of anxiety that flit across her face. He guessed what she was about to do, and he wasn’t about to let her get out of it. “Aw pet. It's all right. Go on then.” She glanced up at him, suddenly shy. Maybe she needs some guidance. He grinned and his eyes narrowed, his voice becoming more direct. “Open up your pants, luv.”

Buffy felt a little thrill dart through her at his commanding tone; finding herself more than a little turned on by the idea of taking orders from Spike. It was a power shift that charged the air and made her pussy throb, and judging by the look on his face and the way he squeezed his erection harder, he was reveling in the change.

He didn’t bother trying to hide it, either. He lifted an eyebrow at her, unapologetic, silently telling her that he was waiting.

Buffy’s brain shut down as she unsnapped the button of her jeans, and slid the zipper down. She brought her hands up and crossed them over her breasts, her body in turmoil, part of her wanting to bolt from the embarrassment and the other part boiling over with lust.

Spike watched her, lying there, hiding herself like a little girl, her pants open. Blue knickers. He smiled. God his cock hurt. But this was just too good; no way was he gonna skip past this. “Now kick off those sandals and slip outta your jeans.”

He watched as she slowly lowered her hands, not looking at him as she toed off her shoes. She slid her hands down to her hips, and lifted her butt off the couch as she slid her jeans down her thighs, reaching down and kicking them off when they got to her ankles.

Buffy looked up at him now, and watched him for a moment as he rubbed his hand back and forth across his erection. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side as she felt her panties dampen with a fresh rush of moisture.

The scent of her fluids hit Spike full force, penetrating his brain and shooting straight to his cock. He inhaled deeply. Smells almost as good as her blood. Her legs were still closed, and he gazed at the point where her little panties disappeared between them. Bet it tastes just as good.

She was looking at him again, her hand moving down to her panties. “That’s it pet. Slide your hand down over your knickers.” He watched as she obeyed him, running her fingers over her panties, down as far as she could go before her thighs blocked the way. She traced little circles over the mound there, and her breath caught as she pressed a finger against her clit.

“Good girl. Now open your legs for me.”

Buffy felt a surge of blood to her face and knew she was blushing furiously. She was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with Spike; he was staring at her like he was going to eat her alive. And with him that could be literal, in several ways! And damn him, he still had that little smirk on his face. But she was beyond the point of caring, so she scooted her heels out and let her legs fall open.

Spike had to let go of his cock when she blushed and then spread her legs. He was so near the edge anyways, that when she turned pink and glanced away like she’d been caught doing something naughty, he had just about lost it.

She started to move her hands down between her thighs, and his eyes followed her fingers as they tickled across the thin, soaked fabric. Her hand was all the way down between her legs now, her fingers sneaking under the edge of her panties.

“Ah, ah, pet. I didn’t say you could do that yet.” Her eyes widened. “Lemme have a look at you first.” He started rubbing his hand up and down his dick again. “Pull your knickers over so I can see.”

Buffy’s mouth went dry and she trembled a little bit, but she did as he told her. She hooked her fingers under the edge of her panties and moved them to the side, so that he had a full view of her pussy. She was suddenly grateful for the power outage and the candlelight.

Spike took a moment to relish the view. The Slayer was laying there, legs spread, exposing herself for him. She’s bloody shaved. He hadn’t been expecting that. And she’s dripping wet. God, she’s loving this.

He was loving it too, and couldn’t take the restriction in his pants anymore. “That’s good luv. Now lemme see you touch yourself. I'm gonna take out my cock.”

Buffy’s head fell back on the pillow, one hand holding her panties to the side while the other slid through her folds, spreading the wetness around. Her eyelids were heavy as she watched Spike undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. The pressure from his hard dick pushed the zipper down as it swelled further in response to the sudden freedom, after hours of being pent up in the denim cage. He wrapped his hand around it, squeezing as he smiled at her, wickedness playing across his face.

Buffy’s mouth opened slightly and she moaned when she saw what he had for her. Oh god. That’s too much. It’s too big.

Spike laughed quietly. “It's all right, pet. Might hurt a bit at first but it’ll feel good right quick.” Buffy wasn’t so sure.

He watched her fingers slide back and forth across her pussy. “Does that feel good luv?”

Buffy didn’t think she could speak anymore, but she tried anyways. “Uh huh.”

“Take off your knickers.”

She let go of the crotch of her panties and hooked her fingers into the waist, pulling them down, leaving a trail of fluid down her leg. She let her thighs fall open again as she watched Spike. He was holding his cock in one hand, and using the other to spread around the fluid that was seeping out.

“That’s my good little Slayer.” His voice was rough. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

Buffy closed her eyes and slid one of her fingers over her clit, drawing little patterns. The room was starting to feel wobbly again, but she knew she wasn’t drunk anymore. Unless I’m drunk on lust. Can you get drunk on lust? Cause I think I am. She smiled to herself. She was starting to feel really tingly down there, and Spike’s little orders were driving her astonishingly quickly towards another orgasm.

“That’s it pet.” She was quivering, and Spike could tell she was going to make herself come very soon. “Now put one of those little fingers up inside yourself.”

She moaned as she slid the middle finger of her other hand inside her pussy. Her thighs were shaking and sweat was making her skin slick. Her eyes kept opening and closing, refusing to focus on any one thing, until they fell on Spikes hand. Chipped black polish and long fingers wrapped around his cock.

It was wet and glistening as he stroked it at a steady pace, while he watched her thrust her finger in and out of herself. He tilted his head back and groaned in obvious pleasure, never taking his eyes off her hands. “That looks real nice pet. So pretty. You like touching yourself for me?”

Buffy nodded her head, the motion of her hands becoming quicker. “Uh huh.”

“You ever think about me when you touch yourself?”

Her legs tensed and twitched, pressing against her hands at her pussy. She nodded again, her voice high-pitched and quiet. “Mm hmm.” Buffy felt the tingling in her pussy suddenly intensify, and she gasped as her internal muscles started to clench. Holy shit, I’m gonna come. “Oh god.”

“You gonna come for me luv?” Spike was nearing his own orgasm, watching her fuck herself, doing everything he told her to do. He was faintly trying to decide if he would rather come all over her hands and her pussy, or see if he could get her to open her mouth, when she arched her back and cried out. “Oh yeah, that’s it luv. Come for me Slayer.”

Oh god oh god oh my god. She shoved two fingers up inside her as her body stiffened and her pelvis jerked, flooding her fingers in her juices. “Oh god, Spike!” She gasped for breath as her hips slammed back down on the couch, her fingers slipping out of her.

Spike was in danger of coming all over his own hand. Abruptly he let go of his dick, deciding he would rather wait, having had enough of his own hand lately. Besides, if she’s half as good at touching me as she is at touching herself, it’ll be well worth the wait. He grinned as Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, her hands resting on her belly. There was a little puddle of come underneath her.

“So pet, is it my turn now?”

Spike didn’t wait for a response. Buffy was quivering in the afterglow of her orgasm, her eyes closed and a distant smile on her face, her nipples making hard little peaks in her tank top. He reached down and grabbed her ankle, dragging her roughly closer to him. “C’mon pet. Snap out of it. I'm nowhere near done with you yet.” She just tossed her head and moaned, and a mischievous smile crossed his face.

He picked up her hand, bringing it to his mouth. He slid her two come-covered fingers inside, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean. Mmm. I was right; just as good as her blood. She moaned again, but didn’t open her eyes. Dragging her fingers out of his mouth, he rested her hand on her thigh.

Trying not to jostle her too much, he got up on his knees and straddled her hips, the wet tip of his hard cock resting against her stomach. Finally Buffy looked up at him, and she wiggled her belly against the light touch. He leaned over her, one hand pressing into the couch by her neck, and touched her lips with his fingertips.

Buffy was delirious. She was completely off in Lusty-Buffy-Land and felt like a loose noodle, all wet and limp. She giggled in her head. His noodle’s not limp! His dick was leaving little circles of fluid on her top, and she vaguely wondered how she could still be wearing it after two orgasms. Because I was too busy coming to take it off, maybe? Or well, probably cause he didn’t tell me to take it off. She smiled and stretched out underneath him as his fingers traced her lips.

Spike was inches away from her face, the tip of his thumb against the corner of her mouth. Part of Buffy wondered what that naughty smirk was all about, just before he closed the gap and kissed her.

Buffy gasped against his lips, and he took the tiny opportunity to slip his thumb into her mouth, prying it open slightly as his tongue darted between her lips. Her thought process reverted to sensation as she relaxed against his mouth and let him kiss her. Mmm. Spike lips. Whoa. I’m kissing Spike! God he tastes good. And then Buffy caught a taste of something un-Spike-like.

Flinching underneath him, she pivoted and knocked him on the floor. “Ew! You had me in your mouth!” She rubbed the back of her hand against her lips.

Spike grinned at her. “Yeh pet. What’sa matter? Don’t like the taste of come?”

“Let me repeat. Ew.” Buffy scowled down at him.

He sat up, reaching his hand out and resting it on her knee. “Aw c’mon luv. Didn’t give it a proper chance.” His fingers traveled up her thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

She shivered involuntarily, marveling at his ability to make yuck sexy. How does he do that?

Spike showed her by letting his hand drift down the inside of her thighs. He gave her a devious smile and started walking his fingers up towards her sodden pussy. Buffy tensed, feeling the urge to squeeze her legs shut, but immediately went limp again as he dragged the cool tip of his forefinger from the bottom of her wet cleft all the way to the top, giving her clit a little flick. She twisted her hips, mindlessly seeking his touch again, but he had withdrawn his hand.

She whined, pouting. “But, stopping. Why stopping?”

“So eloquent, luv.” Spike lifted his come-drenched finger up to her mouth. “Open.”

Buffy shoved her lip out farther, emphasizing her pout. “Ew.”

“Ah, pet. You were doin’ so good. Don’t wanna be a bad girl, now do you?” Spike affected a stern look. “Now open.”

Buffy stared at him. He was kneeling next to her, his cock rigid, one hand pressed into the couch and the other hovering over her mouth. Her pussy felt swollen, and she felt a rush of heat as she opened her mouth and gave in to his debauchery.

He slid his finger into her mouth, wiping the fluid across her tongue. She closed her lips around it and sucked, tasting the salty-sweet flavor of her own come.

Buffy tried, she really tried, to not like it. But she couldn’t help herself; it was so primal. Closing her eyes, she swirled her tongue around his finger, drawing it further into her mouth.

Spike reached down and gripped the base of his cock with his other hand, imagining what it would feel like to have her suck him like that. Only one way to find out. “You think that tastes good Slayer, I’ve got somethin’ else that tastes even better.”

He pulled his finger out of her mouth, and she let it go with a pop. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at him through her thick eyelashes. “Pervert.”

He snickered. “Yeh. But you bloody love it.” He got up and sat on the coffee table, his jeans falling down around his boots, revealing lean, muscular legs. His hand was slowly moving along his shaft, stretching down to cup his balls. He ran his tongue along his teeth, looking at her. “Don’t you pet.”

Buffy felt her fingers inching back towards her pussy. “No.” He lifted his eyebrow at her as her hand dipped down between her legs. “Maybe.”

She could deny it every way, all day, but she was proving him right with every move she made. Who’da thought behind the suburban prig the Slayer’s a little freak? He grinned. “So, Slayer, ever wrapped that bitchy little mouth of yours around a cock?”

Buffy’s hand stopped. She had never done that before, ever; she hadn’t even wanted to. If she had thought of it, it was usually followed by the word nasty. But now Spike was giving her that look again, the one where he was clearly not going to take no for an answer. She flushed, suddenly shy.

His grin widened. “Seems not. It's okay pet. I’ll tell you what to do.” He squeezed himself, pressing his cock down. His voice went hoarse. “You like that don’t you. Being told what to do.”

Buffy slid her legs off the couch and sat up, perching herself on the edge, facing him. She looked away, embarrassed, as she nodded.

He stood up in front of her, holding his cock right in front of her face as he stroked it. “Yeh. You like it.” Buffy had a full view of his hard dick, and she couldn’t help but stare at it; it was so big. The veins were thick and the head was swollen and dark, in sharp contrast to his pale skin. His hand was able to wrap all the way around it, but she wondered if hers would be able to. And then she found herself wondering if it would even fit in her mouth.

His voice went straight to her pussy. “Well, Slayer? Want to suck my cock?”

Buffy looked up at him, tucking her hands between her thighs as she nodded.

Spike smiled down at her as she started to reach a hand up to his dick. “Hold on pet.” She stilled, looking up at him, confused, as he backed a couple steps away from her. “Off the couch.”

Buffy started. God, what is he gonna make me do now? He hooked a finger at her, beckoning her to him. She started to get up, but stopped when he gave her a look. Realizing what he wanted, she slid her butt of the couch so she was on her knees, crawling over to him on all fours.

Spike was in heaven. I think this may even be better than shagging the Slayer. Having her crawling on her hands and knees for me. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, looking up at him from her position at his feet. He quickly amended his thought. Take it back. Shagging the Slayer while she’s on her hands and knees. Yeh. That’d do it. He crossed his arms and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, tearing it off over his head. “Take off my boots, pet.”

Buffy was fully aware of the submissive position she was in as she reached out and unbuckled his boots, and she was silently exulting in it. After fighting for so long, it was so much easier to let him control her. Every time she gave him a little bit, she would feel her juices flow a little more.

Spike lifted first one boot, then the other so she could yank them off, and stepped out of his jeans. Buffy sat back on her knees, taking a moment to stare at him. She had rarely allowed herself to look at Spike, and now she realized that if she had, she might’ve jumped him. Wow. God, I knew he was ripped but… Wow.

He wrapped his hand around his cock again. His balls were sore and tight. Be lucky if I don’t just shoot in her mouth the second she takes it in. He reached out and slid his other hand around the back of her head, urging her forward as he held his dick out for her. “Open up, pet.”

Buffy let him draw her in, opening her mouth slightly as he nudged her lips with the tip. “C’mon pet, open.” He pressed harder against her lips, and he slid the head in the instant she let her mouth fall open. It pressed against her tongue, bumping the roof of her mouth. She tried to move her tongue underneath it, and he moaned. “That’s it luv. Wrap your lips around it and give it a suck.”

She tried, but was distracted by trying to not scratch him with her teeth. Spike responded by pushing himself a little farther into her mouth. “It's okay pet. Feels real good when you use your teeth a bit.” She gave him a tiny, experimental bite, and his knees buckled slightly as gasped. “God luv, yeah.” She could feel his hardness pulsing in her mouth, and reached up to hold it steady with her hand as she tightened her mouth around his cock, drawing her head back against the suction. “Bloody hell!” Buffy smiled, or at least tried to with a mouth full of throbbing vampire cock. She was so turned on; her pussy was starting to drip juice down her thighs.

“That right.” His voice was quavering. “Now up and down a bit. Like a popsicle luv, you should be good at that.” He moaned, long and deep, as she got the hang of the rhythm. “Jesus pet, that feels so fucking good. Oh god.”

Buffy drew back on his cock, dragging it along her tongue and out of her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the head and then down underneath, giving little bites as she went.

Spike was calling on every reserve of control in his body when she licked and bit down to the base of his shaft. She glanced up at him. “Keep going, luv.”

Keeping one hand wrapped around his cock, she drew her tongue down to his balls, leaving behind a wet trail as she traced around their weight.

Spike let his head fall back, eyes closed in pleasure, as he tangled his hand in her hair. She opened her mouth, sucking in one of his balls. Spike gritted his teeth, tightening his hand in her hair. Buffy opened as wide as she could, and gamely tried to draw the other in too. Spike jerked against her, feeling a powerful orgasm coiling in his loins. “Oh Slayer. You’re gonna make me come soon. God your hot little mouth is like fire, burnin’ me.”

Buffy felt the change in him and glanced up, seeing his head thrown back, tendons and muscles tight. She let his balls shift out of her mouth, sliding her hand up and down his cock.

“Such a good girl you are.” There was a thick drop of pre-come pooling out of the tip of his cock, and he reached down, swiping it off with his finger. “You want to have a taste?” He held it up to her mouth.

Buffy’s pussy positively gushed when he brought it to her lips. “Uh huh.” She opened her mouth, and sucked it off his finger, tasting it before letting it slide down her throat. Her clit was throbbing, and she looked up at him as she slid one of her hands down to it.

“Mm, yeah. Touch yourself luv.” Spike wasn’t going to be able to hold his orgasm back much longer. “You wanna make me come?” Buffy nodded her head, reaching her other hand back up to his cock as he pushed it towards her lips. “Open.”

Spike slid his cock back into her mouth. “Relax your throat and swallow 'round me, luv. Gonna go in farther.”

Buffy tried to relax but still choked when he tilted his hips, angling himself down, pushing his dick all the way into the back of her throat. “Ohhhh… Yeah. That’s it.” He pulled back a little and pushed in again, holding her head with both hands. He moaned. “So good. My good little Slayer. God!”

He was thrusting harder now, and Buffy held onto his thigh with one hand as she rubbed her swollen clit with the other, feeling herself about to crest through another orgasm. She moaned, and he shuddered, as he felt the hours of built up frustration suddenly exploding in a vicious release. He gave a sharp thrust, and she felt his cock jump in her mouth as he let out a yell. “Oh bloody hell, I’m coming! Yes! Buffy! Slayer, Fuck! God! He thrust frantically into her throat, making her gag, as his orgasm hit him full force. “Fuck, god, yes! Suck it, drink it, c’mon luv, take it all! Uh, uhn, ahhh! Ahh!”

Buffy closed her throat around his cock, and felt her mouth suddenly flooded with cold, bitter fluid, as Spike shot over and over again into her throat. He was choking, and gasping, and cumming, and Buffy’s own orgasm burst, flooding her thighs with her own come, as she swallowed and swallowed every drop of semen he gave her.

She let her hand fall away from herself, reaching up to run it along the back of his other thigh as he rubbed his hands through her hair, shaking in the aftermath of his release.

He straightened as she sucked gently on his cock, and she realized that it wasn’t getting soft. She slid it out of her mouth, giving it a kiss, and looked up at him questioningly.

Spike was rapidly recovering from one of the most powerful orgasms he’d had in recent memory as he looked down at her. She was sitting on the floor, knees spread wide, gazing up at him past his still-hard cock. He ran his hand along the shaft, smiling down at her. “What pet? You didn’t think that was gonna be it, did you?”

Buffy couldn’t suppress a giggle. She could see the conversation now. “So, Spike, how’d you kill your third Slayer? Easy mate, I shagged her to death.” She felt a stream of come dripping out of her. Yep, this’s definitely how he’s finally gonna kill me. By making me o.d. on orgasms.

Spike continued slowly rubbing his cock. Gripping it hard, he squeezed until a few more drops of come gathered at the tip. Buffy didn’t hesitate, but stretched up and flicked the fluid off with her tongue, flashing a big smile at him.

“Well, look who’s turned into a naughty little kitten, lapping at the cream.”

Buffy grinned; her pussy at least felt like it was purring. She slid her hands up his thighs and past his hips, running them across the muscular lines of his abs. “So,” She looked up at him sideways through her hair. “You still think I’m being naughty?” She pouted. “I thought you said I was doing so good.”

“Oh you are pet.” He reached down and lifted a strand of hair away from her face. “But there’s always room for improvement, don’t you think?” He smiled down at her. He was fairly stunned by the turn she had made; not four hours ago she had been serious in her threat to kill him, and now? Now she was on her knees, bite mark on her neck, come in her throat, and looking for all the world like she was gonna let him do anything he wanted to her, and love every minute of it. He wondered what else he dared try on the Slayer. Damn, this bint is gonna be the bloody death of me.

Buffy gave him a mischievous look as she pressed herself against him. She scratched her nails along his hips, eliciting a pleasured sound from Spike. “Whatever. I’m the Slayer. I’ll be naughty if I want to be.”

Spike groaned as her nails dragged across his hips to his cock, scratching across his hand and down the shaft to the head, leaving little shocks of pain in their wake. “Is that so, pet. Then I gotta say, you’ve got a thing or two to learn.”

With unexpected speed, he knocked her hand off of him. Gripping her by her narrow shoulders, he hurled her up and back onto the couch. In an instant, he was on his knees and between her legs, his hands yanking her by the hips to him as his head plunged down, sinking his blunt teeth into the tender skin just below her belly.

Buffy shrieked, the unexpected shock of pain shooting straight through her. She tried to kick him off, but she couldn’t get herself wedged against him. “God damnit! What the hell! That hurt!”

Spike laughed as he grabbed both her hands, holding them tight. Entangling her fingers together, he managed to grip them both firmly in one hand as he clamped the other down over her mouth, preventing another round of violent cursing.

The hardness of his cock had not abated in the least after he had gotten off, and now, his body rigid with the spot of violence and locked in place between her thighs, her wetness spreading around him, he had to resist the urge to just force his way into her. He tutted at her. “Now, now luv. Such language for a nice little girl.”

Buffy glared at him, her face mashed under his cold hand. She could hardly move; he was too strong. He had her completely imprisoned, and her eyes widened when she felt a fresh wave of lust swell through her crotch.

Spike held her eyes as he leaned down to the little patch of curls decorating the crown of her otherwise bare pussy. He inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of her excitement. He smirked at her, running his tongue under his teeth, and then tilted his head and swept his tongue roughly through the bit of hair.

Buffy bucked underneath him, startled into trying to escape. Spike tightened his hands on her. “Pet, you’re gonna have to stop moving.” Her body was flooding with adrenalin, her fight or flight mechanisms kicking in, but still she couldn’t get out of his steel grip. He smiled. “Or I might have to do somethin’ to keep you still.”

She froze underneath him, her body stiff but silent. “There’s my good girl.” His smile widened as he tipped his head back towards her pussy.

He dragged his tongue through her curls again, feeling her tense against him. His hand still clamped over her mouth, Buffy leaned her head back and closed her eyes, not wanting to see what he was going to do. Spike slid his tongue down and to the side, avoiding touching her most sensitive spots, tasting the salt of sweat as he ran his tongue down the crevice between her thigh and pussy.

Buffy shivered involuntarily, his cold tongue like silken ice against her overheated skin. He dragged it up the other side and up to her hairs again, giving her a tiny nip. Slowly, he traced the tip of his tongue straight down to the small fold of skin over her clit, and quickly drew it into his mouth. She jerked her hips against him, a little squeak escaping from behind his hand as he sucked against it for a moment before letting go to resume his exploration.

He gave it another tiny flick before flattening his tongue against her and dragging it forcefully all the way down her slit. Buffy moaned and rotated her hips as he dragged it back up again, dipping his tongue momentarily into the hottest part of her before giving her clit another lick.

Spike was starting to feel feverish, her flavor overwhelming his senses. His cock hardened impossibly with every lick, his balls tightening again as he felt currents of lust burst through him, making him ache. His voice was dark. “Ah luv, you taste like bloody heaven.” He dipped his tongue back into her core, sweeping through her fluid, tasting it, before travelling back up to her clit.

He drew circles around it, drawing it into his mouth and nursing against it, and he realized he needed one of his hands back. He looked up at her. One of his hands was gripped tightly around hers, and his other was stretched up, pressed over her mouth. “Mmm pet. If I take my hand off your mouth you think you can be quiet?”

Buffy stared down at him, kneeling between her legs, her fluids on his mouth, and she knew she would do anything to keep him doing that. She nodded.

He raised the corner of his mouth in a dangerous smile. “You gotta be quiet as a mouse love. I don’t want to hear anything out of you unless I say, or I’ll stop and you’ll get somethin’ not so nice.” He gave her another little lick, and her eyelids fluttered. “You don’t want me to stop, now do you?” Buffy looked at him, embarrassed again. She shook her head.

Spike smirked at her before removing his hand from her mouth, and he waited to see if she was going to say something. Buffy pressed her lips together.

He smiled as he dragged his hand down to the hem of her tank top and slid his fingers up underneath. He dragged it up over first one breast, then the other, and he took a moment to feast on the revelation. He ghosted his palm across her nipples, causing her to arch her back against him, pulling against his grip on her hands. Feeling her breasts, he dragged his hand around them, then down her arm, her waist, and her hips. Without pausing, he slid his hand down between her legs, cupping her swollen pussy, and inserted his forefinger into her sopping hole.

Buffy’s mouth popped open. “Gah!” Her eyes got big as Spike lifted his head to look at her, devious laughter on his face. He withdrew his finger from her pussy and dragged it slowly down and circled it around her tight, puckered hole. She clamped her mouth shut, her eyes pleading with him to not do it.

Spike was not obliging. Holding her down tighter with his other hand, he pressed his wet finger against her, working it past the tight muscles at the entry.

She tossed her head back and forth, biting her lip, trying not to scream out as he pushed his finger up into her ass. He pressed it in as far as it would go, then twisted it inside of her. “See luv, this is just one of the things that can happen when you’re naughty.” He twisted his finger again, and Buffy scrunched her eyes shut in the effort not to shriek, although in pain or pleasure she wasn’t quite sure. “This’s just a warning pet. Next time won’t be so nice.” He slowly withdrew his finger, then rubbed the tip around her flinching hole. “Gonna do as your told now pet? Gonna be quiet for me?”

Buffy frantically nodded her head, the pain in her ass a prickling contrast to the tingling desire in her pussy.

Spike smiled, reaching down and squeezing his hard dick as he thought about fucking her up the ass. And then he realized that she was almost certainly a virgin there, and he had just stuck his finger up her. Holy bloody hell. He stroked his cock for a moment as his brain wrapped itself around that thought. “Gonna let go of your hands pet, and I want you to slide them down underneath you. Sit on them, and don’t move, or I’ll just find somethin’ to tie you up with.” She nodded, and he let go of her hands. She looked at him with something like amazement before sliding them down underneath her butt cheeks.

Grinning, he lifted his hand to her pussy, feeling and playing with her folds. He gazed at her, spreading her lips, before dropping his head and sinking his tongue into her. He pulled it out, and drove it in again, sliding his fingers up to tap her clit.

Buffy was not accustomed to being quiet. And now he’s fucking me with his tongue. After shoving a finger in my butt. Oh no… She threw her head to the side as she felt the now unmistakable feeling of heat and electricity building inside of her.

Spike dragged his tongue up to her clit, sucking it into his mouth as he shoved two fingers into her pussy. Buffy’s body jerked, and before she could stop herself, she let out another little yelp.

He let go of her clit. “Just don’t learn, do you pet?” He withdrew his fingers from her pussy as he leaned farther over, doing something she couldn’t see, before his fingers were back inside of her. Her head fell back as he pulled them out again.

Then she felt something pressing against her butt. She jumped again, her head snapping down to look at him. He was kneeling between her legs, his face right at the level of her pussy, smirking. Buffy had thought that it was him, that he was gonna try to do that. But it couldn’t be, not from where he was sitting. Oh my god it’s big, and it’s hard, what the hell is it?

It was the handle of Buffy’s stake. The same stake she had dropped absentmindedly out of her back pocket earlier. It was lacquered and smooth, with a rounded end, and Spike had seen it on the floor. Now he had it covered in her own lubrication, and was pressing it against her back hole.

He used his finger to help ease the tip in. It was a lot bigger than his finger, but not as big as his cock. “Easy pet. Relax or it’s gonna hurt.”

Buffy tossed her head again, her lips squeezed shut and her face contorted in a mask of pain. Oh god oh god. Oh he’s so gonna pay for this! Buffy screamed in her head. It hurt, it burned, a lot, but it was also kind of making her burn in a not so terrible way. She felt a tremor surge through her as he worked it in further, dipping his finger in her pussy again to withdraw more fluid.

Spike wrapped his hand around his cock again, pumping it as he twisted the stake further into her. He was dripping pre-come, and seriously considering forcing his dick in her as he fucked her with the stake.

Instead he pushed his mouth against her pussy, sucking her clit into his mouth, thrusting his fingers inside her, as he pumped the stake in small motions in and out of her ass. Buffy squeezed her hands into her butt, digging her nails into her skin in an effort to not yank them out and grab his head as she reared against him, another powerful orgasm curling inside of her. She bit her lip, tasting blood, as she fought the urge to yelp.

Spike smelled the blood just as he felt her powerful muscles clamp down on his fingers, and he felt his demon snarl and his face change. He yanked his head off of her clit, replacing it with his thumb, rubbing her roughly, growling and sinking his teeth into her thigh as her orgasm wrung his fingers.

Then Buffy did scream, her orgasm tearing through her as his fangs slashed through her skin. Her body was wracked, a stake in her ass, his fingers in her pussy and a thumb on her clit as she bucked underneath him, flooding his hand with her juices.

Spike drew on her blood until she stopped shaking and relaxed enough for him to slide his fingers out of her. He let his hand fall to his cock, rubbing her come up and down it. He looked up at her with amber eyes as he pulled the stake out of her. No more games. I'm taking her.

Buffy stared up at Spike through a haze of lust. His face was shifting back and forth between man and demon, apparently unable to settle on one or the other. In her delirium she realized that her Slayer self wanted the demon. Maybe had always wanted it; but even as the thought shot past her mind, he salvaged some control and his eyes regained their blue.

Her thigh stung where he had bitten her, but the pain just ignited a deeper ache, making her want him with every cell in her body. Her pussy felt vacant; she had to have him inside of her, invading her with his dick as roughly as he had with his hands and fangs. She groaned, opening her legs farther, and tilted her hips towards his cock.

Spike gripped Buffy’s waist and jerked her closer to him. Pushing his hands around and under her thighs, he hiked them up around his waist. Clenching her hip with one hand, he rubbed his cock up and down her dripping slit.

Buffy’s need was filling her, twisting out from her belly and into her chest, snaking through her throat and wrapping itself around her mind, as he continued to torture her with the tip his cock. What the hell is he doing? Why isn’t he fucking me, like, right now? She whimpered as she looked up at him.

He was smirking at her. He couldn’t help it. He wanted her so badly it was painful, but he was also thoroughly enjoying the show she was putting on. “Ah Slayer, look at you, writhing around like a ripe little tart. Bloke might think you want somethin’ from him.”

Bastard. “Uh. Whatever.” She moaned as he pushed his cock against her clit. “Like I’d… uhmm… want anything from… gah! you!”

Spike grinned as he massaged his cock against her. “Well I could stop, if you really don’t want anything.” He pulled himself slightly away from her, and was rewarded when a frantic look crossed Buffy’s face as she let a tiny whine escape. “What pet? Can’t make up your mind? Well, I think if you want it, you’d better tell me. Don’t wanna be accused of somethin’ sordid.” He slid himself against her again and leaned over her quivering body, his voice dropping as Buffy whimpered again. “C’mon luv. Tell me you want it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her pussy screaming in protest as she tossed her head, her inner Slayer determined not to let him take her down that final notch. Her voice sounded frantic when she answered him. “No.”

He pressed his dick against her entrance as he squeezed her hip. “Yes pet. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Buffy’s body was humming with lust, and her eyes hurt from the effort of her defiance. She shook her head again, unable to get the refusal out of her throat.

Spike pushed his cock the tiniest bit into her, and nearly lost control when he felt the flood of searing wet heat. He flicked a thumb across her clit, too lightly to bring her any kind of satisfaction. He squeezed his hand around the base of his shaft in an effort to hold himself back. “Do it pet. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Buffy choked on a sob as she lost the last remnants of rebellion. “I want you!”

Spike laughed quietly. “All of it luv.”

She felt like she was going to cry from pure frustration. “I want you to fuck me!”

He smiled and bent over her, sliding one of his hands up under her arm and around her shoulder. “Yeah, I wanna fuck you too kitten. Don’t worry pet, I’m gonna give you what you need.” He held her tightly, and pushed himself into her.

It wasn’t gentle, and Buffy let out a pained gasp as he forced his cock halfway in, driving against the strength of her muscles. He pulled her tighter against his shaft as he looked down at her. “C’mon pet. Let me in.”

Buffy squeezed her legs around him as he wedged himself further into her, finally slipping through her resistance, and she let out a long moan as she felt his cock stretch her. “Ohhh, wow.”

Spike forced his eyes shut against the sudden sensory onslaught. She was so much tighter than he had expected, squeezing him like a vise in her scorching core. He seated himself as far as he could inside of her, his mouth opening slightly as his body tensed with electric desire, before sliding out nearly completely and slamming into her again.

Her pussy was twitching in flurries around him, every wave pushing him faster towards the edge as she moaned underneath him, her eyes open now and her gaze cloudy with need as he plunged into her. Dropping his head to her breast, he sucked her taut nipple into his mouth, bending it between his teeth, her pained gasp only serving to increase the severity of his thrusts. He tilted his hips just so, making her squeal as his cock stabbed against something deep and carnal.

Buffy reached around him, gripping his ass as he drove into her, urging him to move faster, harder, to feed the mania that was growing inside of her.

Spike was consumed, his mouth and his hands and his cock bypassing his brain completely as he reached around and grabbed her wrists off his ass, shoving them down over her head. His voice was hitched. “What’s that Slayer? You want it harder?” He slammed his cock into her, shoving her up against the cushions, her head pressing against his hands as they tightened around her wrists. “You want it rough?”

Buffy’s wrists hurt in his grip as he thrust into her, her body helpless against the violence of the vampire’s lust. She nodded, her eyes pleading with him to push her both farther and closer, and she was so close, so close already.

He rolled his hips against her, suddenly slowing his pace, and Buffy jerked her hips against him. “You want it rough, kitten? Want it good an’ hard?”

Buffy moaned in desperation. “Spike, please!”

“Please what pet?” He twisted himself inside her pussy, and they both moaned.

“Please! Fuck me harder, Spike!”

“Oh yeah luv. I’m gonna fuck you right bloody hard.” He drove himself into her, his balls slapping against her ass, as he succumbed to his desire and let his body take over.

Spike’s body arched over hers as he let go of one of her wrists, instead leaning across both with his other arm, pinning her down. He dragged his hand roughly down over her breasts, her stomach, and around to her ass, lifting and holding her steady as he hammered into her. Her body was being jolted under the strength of his thrusts, and Buffy had a distant, half-formed thought about whether he would just plain break a normal, human girl.

He could feel her breath, frenetic and gasping against his skin, as her pussy writhed around his cock. Shoving his hand down between them, he harshly pinched her clit, and she suddenly squeezed him with a force only a Slayer could summon.

“Holy hell!” He sucked in a breath as her pussy clamped down on his cock. “That’s it Slayer, do it, squeeze me like that, oh bloody hell!”

“Spike!”

“C’mon, luv, come for me. Come all over my cock, I wanna feel you bloody strangle me.” He pinched her clit again, and her body convulsed underneath him, her skin tightening and her pussy wrangling his shaft as her orgasm ripped through her.

And then he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, with her pussy throbbing and crushing his cock, her body snapping against his, her arms tight and straining under his grip. He grabbed her jaw, forcibly turning her head, exposing the bite he had given her earlier. Snarling, he sank his fangs into her neck, the already open wounds bursting with fresh blood, the taste of her sharpened by her orgasm.

Her body bucked, his bite amplifying her pleasured intoxication. His hips jerked against her, his demon consumed by the rush of her blood, his release a cyclone through his body as he came inside her, spurting and jerking as he filled her with his cold semen.


~~~


Buffy sighed in her sleep, shifting her body as she felt the first stabs of wakefulness. She felt good. She was tired, but it was a good tired, all sore and worn out like after a particularly satisfying fight.

Parts of her were really hot, but others felt nice, not cold but kind of, well, just relaxed and comfortably cool. She sighed again, sliding her hand over something smooth. Hm. Smooth. And cool.

And then reality crashed into her, jolting her out of her post-orgasmic fever. Oh, my god! I just slept with Spike! She jerked upright, falling off the couch.

Spike had been watching her sleep, and her sudden fury was not entirely unexpected. He looked at her, her eyes wide and glaring, as she jerked her top down and frantically grabbed a throw pillow to cover herself.

He was a little surprised to note his disappointment.

Bloody Hell.

Her voice was high pitched. “What…” She stammered, and tried again. “What did you do to me?”

He just kept looking at her as he tried to figure out what was going on in his own head. Disappointed? Why should he give a flying fuck what the Slayer thought after the fact? Of course she would freak out.

He groaned inwardly as he realized what he was feeling. Bollocks.

Buffy saw a flash of something pass over his face. She didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Spike. At least not irritating, evil, stakeable Spike.

And then her mind filled with everything they had done and how good he had made her feel. He had hurt her, crushed her inhibitions, he had made her do things that were already making her blush. But not really. He only did exactly what I wanted. She clutched the pillow against her, staring at him. And I wanted every minute of it.

Her voice was choked. “Just tell me one thing.”

His eyes softened as he watched her, her internal battle stamped across her face. “Anything, luv.”

“Would you have stopped?” Her voice failed her again. “You know, if I wanted you to?”

Spike didn’t hesitate. “Of course I would’ve stopped. You don’t really think I would’ve forced you, do you?” He got up, not hiding his nakedness as he sat down on the floor in front of her. “Buffy. I may be a git, but I wouldn’t do that. Bloody hell luv, I might not have a soul, but I wouldn’t hurt you. Not like that.”

Buffy lowered her gaze to the floor. She was reeling, so much had changed. And was still changing. She knew, even before she had asked, that what he said was true, and she realized now what she had seen on his face when she had bolted off of the couch.

She set the pillow aside, and scooted up to him, but Spike didn’t touch her, his nervousness obvious. “Buffy, do you want to stop?”

She giggled, his worry dissolving the last of her apprehension. She slid her arms around his neck, smiling. “No.”

Spike smiled back at her, relief washing over him. He wrapped himself around her and pulled her against him. Bloody bint is gonna be the death of me.


***************

woohoo, first fic completed! Reviews? Please? :)