As he slowly drifted into consciousness, Spike took a mental assessment of his well-being: his head was no longer pounding, his muscles didn’t feel all achy, and he didn’t feel a need to empty his stomach; in short, he felt better.

*Well, whatever the Slayer mixed in your blood last night must’ve done the job, mate. You’re feeling like a new vampire. Gonna have to thank her for that when you see her.*

It was then that Spike noticed that there was something pressing onto his chest. *What the...*

He opened his eyes, and found that Buffy was sleeping in the same bed as him; not only that, but her arm was draped across him and her head was resting on his chest. He was afraid to move, in case she woke up.

He didn’t know why she was in bed with him, but he would bet a pretty penny that it wasn’t on purpose. If she opened her eyes and saw where she was, she’d no doubt stake him for trying to do something perverted. Not that those kinds of thoughts were far from his mind, but right now he was simply enjoying the feel and the sight of her in his arms. This experience was definitely something he would be filing away for future fantasies. He closed his eyes and unconsciously traced circles on the Slayer’s shoulder.

For a moment he missed Dru; mainly because he’d been with someone for so long and was now alone. He may have been the Big Bad (in his mind, at least), but it was no fun if you were on your own. Deep in thought, he never noticed that the young woman in his arms was now awake and watching him.

Buffy woke up to a tickling sensation on her shoulder. In a rare bout of morning clarity, she remembered crawling into Spike’s bed last night. Now there she lay, comfortably nestled against him. She looked up and saw that his eyes were closed and his brow knit in concentration.

*What on earth is going on in that mind of his?* Her Slayer voice suggested, *He’s trying to figure out a way of draining you! Come back to your senses, and get away from him!* But her other voice countered, *He’s probably just trying to figure out what the heck you’re doing in bed with him, without Mr. Pointy. Betcha he thinks this is a dream and that if he opens his eyes, you’ll be gone...* Yes, this was most likely the case. He could have easily killed her while she was sleeping--she had been openly without defence. Buffy decided to ease his worries.

She raised her head, looked up at him and smiled “Good morning.”

Spike opened his eyes, and looked at her. Any apprehension he’d felt at her reaction to waking up in his arms disappeared; he’d expected her to be angry or disgusted, but she looked genuinely content draped across him.

“‘Morning.”

“So, how are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep well?”

“I don’t know, but that stuff you put in my blood last night gave me the best sleep in a long, long time. I’m feeling about as great as a hundred-and-twenty-year-old vampire ever did. Looks like you kept your part of the bargain, Slayer.” He paused and added, “Guess you’ll be wantin’ me out of your hair now.” *Please say no, please say you want me to stay. I don’t think I’d be able to leave you just now*

Buffy no longer yearned for her weekend of solitude. What she wanted, more than anything at that moment, was the blonde vampire. She was sick of pushing aside what she wanted so that she could do what was ‘right’. This was her weekend to unwind and she’d do as she damn well pleased. Which meant, in this case, making sure that Spike wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“No, Spike, I want you to stay. Mom and Dawn won’t be back from LA ‘till tomorrow, so...” She pulled herself up until they were face to face, and kissed him.

It took Spike about half a second to register that Buffy (his Buffy, now) was kissing him. He put his arms around her, pulled her up even closer, and deepened their embrace. When he felt her tongue pressing against his mouth, seeking permission to enter, he parted his lips and darted his own tongue against hers.

Buffy’s breathing became erratic as she pressed her body against his; she began to run her fingers down the vampire’s chest, tracing his abs and finally cradling his erection through his pants. *One kiss. That’s all it took for him to get this hard... was Angel this big?*

Her musings were interrupted by a low growl. “God, Buffy.”

Spike felt like an excited schoolboy; he was afraid of losing control at the Slayer’s passionate ministrations. *Can’t have that happen, can we? Time to take control of this situation.*

He flipped them over, never breaking their contact. Hearing Buffy gasp, he pressed his erection against her. He broke their kiss, and began to place butterfly kisses along her jaw, murmuring incoherently as he made his way down to her neck.

“So hot... Like a dream come true, love... Make me go mad...” Pausing, he slowly traced circles with his tongue over the pulse point at her jugular. Spike could feel the blood flowing, the life force of the Slayer; its power made him dizzy, as his demon recalled the rush its taste would give. Only this time he wasn’t in for the kill. He wanted to hear her moan, not from pain but from pleasure.

Just to gauge her reaction, he bit down with his blunt teeth; Buffy let out an undisguised mewl of excitement.

“Like that do you, pet?” he asked in a husky voice.

He felt her nod shyly. It made sense, in an ironic way, that the Slayer would have a thing for neck biting; it was after all what her existence revolved around.

She should have known. Here she was, Buffy Summers, a near-virgin putting the moves on a 120-year-old vampire. It hadn’t taken much time for the tables to turn and for him to take control. She didn’t mind, though. It was bound to be much, much better with him in charge.

Everything he was doing to her provoked the most intense sensations; his cool lips against her throat, the touch of his fingers along the edge of her shorts, and the feel of his arousal against her thigh. He hadn’t even touched her below the waist yet, and she was dripping with excitement.

She felt him tug at the hem of her top. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his cold hand cup her breast. *That’s it, Buffy. He’s going to kill you through sex. Here he is, just reaching your breasts, and he has you so worked up that you can’t think straight. He’s deliberately making you go insane.*

Spike wanted to make this last forever. All the fantasies, all the dreams he’d had came up short to the real thing. Never had he imagined that the heat radiating off a living, breathing, person could be so intoxicating. He’d never had sex with a human before. The heartbeat, the blood pulsing through veins, the sweat and the smell--he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to go back; not after this...

Lust dulled his mind; he was reduced to simple thoughts. *Too much clothing; must remove clothing...* Tugging at Buffy’s top, he was glad when she understood what he wanted. The offending article tossed out of the way, he took a moment to look at her.

He sat up, and looked down at his Slayer. “So beautiful. Cor, Buffy, you don’t know what you do to me.”

Reaching down, he took one of her breasts in his hand; he kneaded it, rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Buffy gasped, and bucked up into his touch. Eager to please, the vampire brought his mouth down to her other breast, and dragged his tongue over the hardened nipple, eliciting yet another moan from the young woman.

As much as she enjoyed being doted on, Buffy felt that she should be giving as well. Her lover, *Yes, your lover. There’s no other word for what he’s doing to you. This isn’t just sex--he’s making love to you*, had moved down so low that she could no longer reach his erection.

She grabbed his free hand and brought it up to her face; one by one, she took each finger in her mouth, sucking on them, and wrapping her tongue around them. She felt his mouth leave her breast and move south, down her taut stomach.

“Oh God, Spike. You’re driving me insane; everything you’re doing...”

Spike paused, looked up at her through heavy-lidded eyes, and whispered, “Oh, but I haven’t started yet, luv. I’m going to love you like you deserve.”

His tongue darted into her navel, then followed a path down to her remaining clothing. The vampire curled a finger under the waistband of her shorts and looked up, as if seeking permission.

Buffy understood that this was the point of no return. *Yeah, as if there was a point of return before this. That tongue and those fingers working their magic; those blue eyes, almost black from desire, gazing through you; there’s no way you could stop now.*

She lifted her bottom off the bed, and allowed him to remove her shorts and underwear all at once. Her nakedness made her feel vulnerable. Feeling shy, she blushed and looked anywhere but at the demon between her legs.

Spike was incredulous. Was the Slayer actually self-conscious? Here he was, standing over the most stunning woman he’d ever seen, and she was blushing!

“Buffy, look at me!”

The Slayer turned her gaze towards him.

“You are beautiful, do you understand? Your neck, your breasts, your stomach...” His eyes never broke contact with hers and as he spoke he traced his fingers the length of her body, until they reached her nest of curls.

“So beautiful...” One finger drifted down into her folds, which were soaked with her arousal; hearing her whimper, he pulled it back out, and brought it to his mouth.

Buffy had never seen anything so erotic as when he brought that finger to his lips. She’d only been with a man once and when she and Angel had consummated their relationship, it had been frenzied and over too quickly. Now she was with Spike--soulless, arrogant, her supposed number one enemy--and he was lavishing attention on her like she was the only woman he had ever had eyes for.

*Is this how he’d been with Drusilla? If so, she was a fool to let him go.* If it had been left up to her, she would have pulled him on top of her and it would have been over in ten minutes. Things were much different with Spike in charge. *Guess you learn a lot in 120 years...*

All lucid thought escaped her as she felt his cold tongue press up against her hot centre.

“Ahhh... please, Spike...” Now it was her turn to mumble incoherently.

“Please what, luv? Do you mean this--” He slid his tongue the length of her folds, teasing her clit, “--or this?” He pushed his tongue inside her, then back out, repeating the motion a few times.

“Huh? Uh... both! Whatever! Just don’t stop; please don’t stop. So good...”

If she thought this was driving her crazy, she could never imagine what it was doing to the blonde vampire. He’d never been so hard in his unlife. Pressed into the edge of the bed with his head between the Slayer’s legs, he was convinced he’d never make it; every time he moved, his cock would rub against the comforter.

He had to change his positioning or he’d end up messing himself. Cupping his hands under Buffy’s rear, he pulled her closer to the bed’s edge; now he could move back a bit, and go back to showing his Slayer what she meant to him. He dragged his teeth against her clit and heard her breathing speed up. *Must be close*, he thought, smiling to himself. As he continued to focus his attentions on her sensitive area, he pushed two fingers up into her.

Buffy could feel that she was close. It wasn’t enough that his mouth was ravaging her, but he had to go add his fingers to the fray. Her body felt like a surge of electricity was flowing through it. Her fingers and toes felt all tingly, and her legs went weak.

She continued her mantra. “Oh, please don’t stop... please don’t stop... so close...” Then she felt him bite down gently on her clit, and that did it. She screamed as the most mind-blowing of all sensations ripped through her body.

When she came back down from her high, she looked down her body, and saw Spike sitting back on his haunch, licking her juices from his fingers. His eyes were darkened with lust--obviously he had been extremely aroused by her climax.

She sat up, reached for him, and pulled him on top of her. Looking up at him, she lost herself in his eyes. “Spike, I need to feel you inside me.”

Spike couldn’t believe it. She was asking him, almost begging him, to make love to her. He touched his lips to hers and kissed her softly. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance.

With one slow move, he buried himself deep inside her and nearly died--again.

“Cor, Buffy... You’re so hot; you’re gonna burn me.”

She was so tight, he tried to remember if she’d mentioned anything about being a virgin; he didn’t smell any blood, so he guessed that she was just not very experienced.

Then he remembered Angel. She’d lost her virginity to that ponce, and he hadn’t even taken the time to do it properly. It was obvious that she’d never had oral sex before, and maybe not even been brought to orgasm. He felt his demon rise at the thought of his grandsire laying his hands on his Slayer. He growled, and increased the pace of his thrusts.

*He’s vamped out! Oh God, you’re in trouble now--what did I tell you? This was all a ploy just to kill you!* Buffy’s Slayer came to the forefront in one animated plea; the other voice, however, wasn’t as frightened. *Calm down--it’s just the sex. He’s really aroused and probably hasn’t even noticed it. If you really want to pay him back for his oral... skills, let him drink from you. Remember with Angel? That was the most intense physical rush you had ever felt, and it wasn’t even supposed to be sexual!*

Buffy looked up at the vampire; instead of the blue eyes of a human, she was staring into the amber eyes of a killer. Only they didn’t really seem that threatening at that moment; they were softer and she could still see the love he felt for her in them.

She reached up, ran her fingers along the ridges on his forehead, and pulled him into an embrace. His cold lips met hers, and her tongue made its way into his mouth. She heard him growl as her tongue nicked itself on one of his fangs and the metallic taste of her blood surged their mouths.

Her second climax was close, so she made up her mind and whispered three words in Spike’s ear: “Drink from me.”

This had to be a dream. He must be hearing voices, because no way on earth was the Slayer inviting him to drink from her. Spike pulled back, and looked down at the young woman beneath him. Her eyes were closed, and she had tilted her head to the right, to give him better access to her neck.

“Are you sure, luv? Buffy?” He felt her begin to tremble, and felt her inner muscles begin to twitch.

“Yes. Please, Spike!”

*Bloody Hell! She’s getting off on the thought of you biting her. What the hell are you waiting for?* He lowered his head and sank his teeth into Buffy’s neck, just as she came for the second time that morning.

The taste of Slayer blood was enough to push Spike over the edge; this blood, that she was giving him willingly, tasted better than anything he’d ever had. He pulled his fangs out and roared as he experienced his most powerful orgasm ever. His face shifting back to human guise, he collapsed on top of Buffy, exhausted, and licked at the drops of blood trickling from the fresh bite marks.

Buffy wrapped her arms around him, and held him tightly. “Wow. That was... wow.”

Spike chuckled and gave her a kiss on the cheek before rolling onto his back. “Wow indeed, luv. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before.”

Buffy turned to him, resting her chin in her hand. “Really?”

“Yeah ‘really’,” he trailed a finger down Buffy’s side, smiling when she squirmed from the tickling.

“Never had sex with a human before; it’s just so... different. There’s the warmth from your body, your heartbeat, and your blood...” He said the last bit so quietly that she hardly heard him.

“When you asked me to drink from you I thought I was dreaming, but then I looked down at you and knew it was for real. Buffy, love, had I been staked after that, I would have died happy.” He raised his head and looked her in the eyes “Why did you do it--why did you ask?”

The Slayer drew her gaze away from his and focussed on a spot on the comforter. “I don’t know why. It just seemed right; like I needed to give myself to you completely.”

“I... I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He brought his finger to the bite mark, which by now had stopped bleeding.

“No, you didn’t.” Buffy blushed, as she admitted, “It’s, uh, nice. It... enhances the experience.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that getting bitten turns you on?”

“No! It’s not like that; it’s... Ok, yeah, it’s a definite turn-on.” She gave him a stern look. “But only in the heat of the moment. And not all the time. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this, the biting thingy, or you are so very dead. Well, more dead, anyway.”

“Don’t worry, pet. If telling your little dirty secret means I’ll never get to do that again, your secret’s safe with me.” The vampire let out a little snicker.

They lay there in each other’s arms for a short while, until Spike made a move to get out of bed. Buffy whimpered, “Don’t get up, stay here for a while longer.”

The blonde vampire gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry, pet, but this body is having perfectly human reactions to all the food you’ve been pampering me with. If I don’t get to the washroom soon, you’ll have more than puke to worry about in Nibblet’s room...”

He gave her a wink, as he pulled his jeans up. “Anyway, I think it’s about time that I repay you your kindness--what do you say to breakfast in bed, eh, ducks?”

The young woman tucked herself into the comforter, and grinned “Mmm--that sounds nice. Just as long as it isn’t that bubble and squawk or whatever you used to eat...”

“It’s bubble and squeak, and I haven’t the faintest idea how to make it. I’ll figure something out.” With that, Spike left the object of his affections to her own company and thoughts.