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Chapter 6

Buffy

I’m lying on my back, arms above my head, legs straight out and together.

He’s beside the bed, one knee resting on the edge, looking down at me through the camera lens.

I ask him what he wants me to do.

“Just be yourself,” he replies.

“But who am I?” I reply.

“You’re Buffy,” he says. Click, click.

“Buffy?” I try to remember who she was.

Sitting up, I cross my legs and carefully arrange the shirt so that I’m decently covered. I smile sweetly, appealingly. The camera clicks again. I put my thumb in my mouth and tilt my head. He tilts his, tilts the camera. Fires off a few more shots.

Is this who I was? A little girl who so desperately wanted to please? Who just wanted to be loved?

I kneel up and sit back on my heels. Click. I hug myself. Click. I open the top button and lean forward a little. Click, click.

He’s still got his jeans on, but they’re completely open and hanging loosely on his hips. I don’t know how he manages it, but he’s definitely ‘interested’ again.

And he’s falling into rhythm with me as I move myself around the bed. Following me with the camera. Murmuring quiet words of encouragement and appreciation as I give him what he wants.

How did I get from that sweet little girl, to this? Siren temptress. Possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been, and lying almost naked on a vampires bed?

I undo another button and lie on my back once more. This time I let the shirt ride up a little so it’s just covering me. So that another inch would show what he’s desperate to see. I stretch out my arms, taking my hair in my hands as I do. He’s kneeling over me now, clicking away.

I bend one knee. Let it fall to the side. He’s very close now. Focusing in.

He puts down the camera and undoes the next button himself, arranging the folds to his liking. Then he combs his fingers into my hair and fans it out, all around me on the satin comforter.

“I could eat you,” he says his voice rough and barely controlled.

“I want you to,” I reply. And his fingers still for a split second before he takes the next picture.

I can see it’s a digital camera. He could have prints done in no time. We could look at them together.

He moves back, beckoning me forward, so I get up and sit on the edge of the bed.

Legs open, hands gripping the edge as they rest between my inner thighs. Oh yes, he likes that one. The shirt pulled up just enough. I move my hands to rest on my thighs. My tongue licks my lower lip. My hands stray to the remaining buttons. Each one falls open. For every button, there’s a click.

We flow around each other. I give, he takes.

“How did I get here?” I ask him. I was a sweet little girl. A teen who thought of nothing but clothes and shopping, sitting in the mall sucking lollipops. And look at me now.

I let my legs fall wide and lean right back on my elbows. He’s on his knees. Clicks. Focuses. Zooms in.

He lowers the camera, stands up and looks me straight in the eye.

“How did you get here?” he says. “Simple. You met me.”

I turn onto my stomach and he’s still behind me. I feel his hand pulling up the shirt so that my butt is exposed. Click, click. I waggle it in the air. Clicks again. Roll onto my side, head resting on a bent elbow. I touch myself with my free hand, and he gives an appreciative groan.

“Yeah, do that love. You’ve no idea how sexy you look. How sexy you are. What you do to me.” Click. Click. He’s on his knees on the bed again. Tilting the camera this way and that.

And suddenly I’m not afraid. I know that this is as dangerous for him as it is for me. That he knows full well that if he ever shows these to anyone he’s dead. That I’ll kill him myself. I think my secret is safe enough.

“Yes,” I tell him, as I sit up and scoot back against the headboard. “I met you. A slayer met a vampire and the whole world turned upside-down.

I stretch out my arms along the top of the carved, ornate wood. He stays very still.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, Spike.” I cover each breast with a hand. “Look at me. Look what you’ve made me into.”

“Look what we make together,” he says, throwing the camera aside.

In a flash he has me on my back again, my hands pinned above my head, his full length stretched against me, trapping me with iron thighs. I’m surprised it’s taken so long with all that’s been simmering between us. But we have nothing if not willpower. Both of us stubborn in the extreme. Both of us would die before we gave in to something we didn’t want to do.

He slides his hands up my arms until his are covering mine.

“You’ve always known, haven’t you?” he tells me, his face very close to mine. “How much I’ve wanted you. Every look, every movement. Knew how to tease me just right,” he says.

Everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve done. Every word we’ve ever said. It’s all been leading to this. We’ve always known this moment was coming.”

He sees the acquiescence in my eyes, because I dare not say the words. A slight shift, and he’ll be right where he wants to be. That’s all the agreement he’s waiting for.

I keep very still. The dance isn’t over yet.

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Spike

Move, damn you. Give me permission. I don’t want to force this from you. This, as a gift freely given, would mean more to me than anything else you could do this afternoon. Invite me in, Buffy. Invite me in.

My whole body is screaming out for her. But she’s going to make me suffer just a little more. I still have penance to do. Have to be made to work for it. Because, evil vampire, remember? Like a serial killer in prison, with the chip.

But you made the bars love. You wove the golden thread around me and made it impossible for me to move from anywhere, but the place where you are.

You made me snow blind so that I can’t see anything else but you. Turned my feet into lead so that I can’t run away from you. Filled my ears with the sound of your voice, and my dreams with your face. Only, always, your bloody face.

And now, the feel of you against me. Your hot breath on me. Your eyes. A little startled, all knowing. Like a woman who’s satisfied that she has her man exactly where she wants him. Hovering on the brink. And you know I’ll stay here for all eternity if you ask me to. Just in case you change your mind. I would wait forever for that moment. I would lie here, waiting until the ages turned me to stone. You know that, don’t you?

She does move then. Maybe it’s too much even for her, a slayer. What’s wrong love? Don’t you want to be loved with so much passion that it might just consume us both?

I’m on my back now, she’s straddling me, positioned just right. My arms pulled over my head. It’s cool. I don’t care who’s on top. Just as long as one of us is.

“How do you want it, pet?” I ask her, desperately trying to move. But she’s got thighs of iron too. Won’t let me. Keeps me trapped there. Gonna make me beg.

So bloody exciting.

“My wet, horny slayer,” I tell her. That gets a reaction. She’s melting all over me.

“How do you want it?” I ask her. “Slow and easy? I could just slide right in, you’re so wet for me. Would take no effort at all. I’d set us a nice, slow pace. And I can keep going for hours. Would you like that?”

Just a small nod of her head. Don’t think she realised that she even did it. But I saw it.

“Or,” I continue. “I could fill you with one hard thrust, so hard that you’d come just like that. And I would too. How would you like that? Have you ever come that quickly? I could do that for you, Buffy. Let me do it now.”

I always was a smooth talker. After I ditched William, of course. But this, is the slayer. Iron will. It’s part of the job description.

She licks her lips, bats her eyes. Lets her hair sweep over my skin. Slides her wet core over me. Leans down and licks at both corners of my mouth. Scrapes her fingernails over my scalp. And I’m boiling for her. Straining for her like a madman.

And she sits up, reaches over, grabs the camera and records it all.

The craziness, the yearning. The need, the want. The way I turn myself inside out for her and show her everything. Give her everything. It’s all there. Click, click, bloody click as she photographs me.

And why? I think. So she can use them to get herself off in the quiet privacy of her bedroom? So that she can look at them, her heart swelling with pride, and tell herself that this man loves her with a passion that she’ll never see again in her lifetime. So that she can feel sorry for me? So that she can laugh at the ambitions of a stupid vampire who thought he could love a slayer? And who thought a slayer might ever love him.

With a roar I roll her again and hold her down. Too roughly, I know, but sometimes she just frightens me so much.

She goes very limp and lies very still.

“Take another picture, Spike,” she orders me in a calm, quiet voice. She hands me the camera.

I move off her and get ready to obey, because am I not ultimately just her slave?

She arranges herself very precisely as I wait for her. Lying straight, the shirt covering everything but her legs. She crosses her arms over her chest and I feel a panic rising in me like I’ve never felt before.

“No,” I whisper.

“Yes,” she replies. Closing her eyes.

She looks peaceful, as the dead do.

“One day,” she says. “Probably very soon. I’ll be like this. Slayers die young, Spike. And I will too. One day,” she says again, “you will stand at my coffin and look down on me, just as you are now. And I will be like this. Only my heart won’t be beating any more and I’ll be as cold as you are. And then you will spend eternity staring at these pictures. Trying to remember the way I looked today. Trying to recall the sound of my voice, my smell. My laughter, my tears.

“No,” I say again, the camera frozen in my hand.

“You’ll sit in the dark,” she continues, “and try to remember if I ever said a kind word to you. I could tell you I love you, Spike. But you wouldn’t believe me. You’d spend the rest of time trying to work out whether I meant it or not. And it will drive you crazy. Loving me will drive you crazy, Spike. Take this last picture.”

She doesn’t move. Her breathing stills and she waits. And I realise that this grotesque parody is as much for her as it is for me. It’s a warning to us both. I’m scared, but so is she. We’re both bloody terrified. Rehearsing her own death because she’s petrified that she won’t know what to do when the moment comes. And she’s showing me a kindness, of sorts. I get a sneak preview of the pain, the agony that will inevitably come when she’s not there any more. It will happen. If not as a slayer, then from disease, or old age.

Death will part us one day.

But not today I think, throwing the camera across the bed. Not today. She’s done the impossible with her words. Made me love her even more than I did before. If time is something we don’t have, then we shouldn’t be wasting a single moment of it.

She fills my dead heart with passion, she fills it with terror. And she fills it with love.

I knee her thighs apart and I’m inside her in one stroke. Up to the hilt. And just like I promised, that’s all it takes. For both of us.

She says one word. Spoken on a sigh as we pour our release into each other.

“Yes.”

It falls from her lips and I catch it with mine. Kissing her into oblivion.

Because, if she’s going there. Then I’m going with her.

Tbc….





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