***
I can’t do it, I’m not strong enough...
With a painful and helpless sigh, Buffy turns away from the window, and startled, jumps a little at seeing the unexpected visitor in the doorway of her room.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, pet,” Spike says in a low voice, nervously shifting his weight.
“What are YOU doing here?” The fiery light of anger flickers up in Buffy’s eyes, “And h-how...?” Her eyes widen in the shock of revelation, realizing that he shouldn’t be there, in her room, in her house, but yet he is.
“Dawn,” he smiles sheepishly.
“Dawn? Oh God...” she grimaces helplessly.
“She needed someone.”
“Oh. But why did it have to be YOU of all people?” she fumes.
“The residents of the Summers’ house seem to like me,” Spike notes with a sense of wonder and uncertainty.
Looking daggers at him, Buffy replies coldly, “I hate you.”
“Keep saying that, luv, one day you might believe it too,” he remarks wryly.
“Shut up.”
“Your life would be simple if you didn’t waste your energy trying to despise me,” he says quietly.
“I don’t need advice from a vampire,” she hisses.
“Suit yourself,” Spike utters low-key, and with a shrug, he turns to leave.
His unusually reserved tone, the lack of sneery and sarcastic attitude makes Buffy wonder what is up with the bleached vampire. Something’s wrong with him.
“Oh, before I forget,” he turns back, “I just wanted to give you these,” muttering, he throws a tiny bouquet of daisies onto her bed. “For Joyce...”
Are my senses tricking me or is there really pain in his voice, Buffy wonders, peeking at him from the corner of her eyes. As the flowers land on the comforter, her stomach cramps in shame.
“Spike...” she calls after him, her voice stifled and slightly trembling.
At hearing his name like a drowning cry for help, he stops and turns his head back towards her. “What?”
“Thank you,” she murmurs in a quiet apology, caressing the tiny petals of the flowers, “for not forgetting her...”
With a sigh of remembrance, he turns toward her again, “I never could,” a note of genuine sorrow appears in his voice.
Her eyes meet his and she knows he means it. She can’t hold back her tears, and the salty drops of grief land on the little flower-heads.
Unable to bear the heart wrecking sight of the woman he loves, Spike silently closes the door and tentatively sits beside Buffy, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I can’t believe it happened.” she sobs, “I’m waiting to wake up any minute now. Wake up and realize this is all just a nightmare and see her in the kitchen again...”
“I know, luv, same here. She was an amazing woman. And she liked me...” his voice falters at the thought there’s hardly any people left in the world who really like him. “Not bloody many do. Though...,” with a sigh, he runs his fingers through his spiky, platinum hair.
“I’ll never understand why she treated you the way she did. She was here to protect me, her daughter,” she wipes a tear off her cheek, however a bunch of others roll immediately to take its place. “She should have kept you away from me. You’re an evil vampire after all.”
“She had that special maternal instinct, she knew she didn’t have to save you from me. Cos she saw what you don’t want to see in me,” he doesn’t take his confident look off of her. She reluctantly glances up at him through her hot tears. “I could never hurt you cos I love you too bloody much.” There, he has said it again. His voice is soft and resolute, his ice-blue eyes staring at her with such warmth one might expect those wonderful eyes to turn into another shade as the ice melts.
She has never seen such emotions in those blue pools. Is it cause of the grief for my mother? Could he have cared for her so much, she wonders. Or is it only the side-effect of the enormous pain in her heart?
“I don’t care what she thought; I just want her to be here. I’d do anything to turn back time and alter the past so that she’s alive. I can’t live without her...” another huge wave of desperate sobs shakes her body.
Spike’s non-beating heart breaks at the incredible, deep suffering of hers, and without noticing, he instinctly moves closer, pulling her into a comforting hug. And she is letting him comfort her.
“Everything will be alright, pet,” he sooths her, gently stroking her hair. He feels her body tighten, trembling, desperately seeking shelter in his tight embrace. Her hands wraps around his waist for dear life, her nails dig deep into his duster. That’ll leave some lasting marks, he notes with a little frown. Bugger that, who cares? This moment is worth that.
“You’re strong, you’ll get through this,” he mutters. I will help you if you let me.
“I feel so alone without her,” she sobs against his chest, her tears wetting his shirt. “It hurts so much.”
“You’re not alone, luv,” Spike reassures her with a tone of genuine care. “You have the Nibblet and your friends. And I’m also here for you.”
She starts to calm down and her sobs stop. Breaking away from his hold, Buffy faces him, her puffy, red, teary eyes staring into his. There is a strange light in her dark eyes, kind of conspiratory and determined.
Spike searches the deep-green lakes inquiringly, but before he could ask anything, Buffy throws herself at him, her mouth crashing onto his in an eager kiss.
Taken aback by the sudden turn of the events, his mind tries to register what is happening exactly, the blond vampire doesn’t move, just sits there frozen in shock.
At the lack of his positive reaction, Buffy breaks the one-sided kiss, “You said you’re here for me,” she indignantly whispers, gasping.
“I am luv,” Spike replies, still in shock.
“Then why don’t you make me feel it?” she glares at him reproachfully.
“Pet, I’m not sure if...”
“Words,” she snorts. “Promises, they’re always there. But nothing behind,” another teardrop rolls down on her cheek.
“No, I meant it,” he retorts softly.
“You do?” her look pierces his. “Then help me. Make this pain go away.” Her pleading eyes locks his perplexed ones.
Sod it, if I refuse her, she will bloody believe that I don’t care about her, Spike frowns. But if we do this, I’ll be taking advantage of the slayer in her weakened state.
Her inviting, begging look of full, wet lips, and torn beauty is calling to his demonic side, and his lustful vampire-self is taking over. It sweeps away every resistance of his, and the longing to have her again, no matter what the circumstances were, fills his whole dead body.
Grabbing her arms, Spike pulls her closer, and crashes his lips against hers, fierce and demanding. Satisfied with his reply, Buffy deepens the kiss, her tongue sliding into his mouth, just to start a fiery battle with his. His mind clouds with lust, at her wild attitude, and all disturbing thoughts are pushed aside, he focuses only on the rising heat and desire between them.
Heat and desire. Just like last time, which actually was the first. “No more desire. We both got what we wanted, so now let’s forget it, and move on” he recalls her words after their first intimate encounter. No, luv, you can’t forget about that, Spike maliciously grins in his mind. You can’t move on. Just look what you’re doing right now. It wasn’t me who started it this time. I told you that you would crave more. No matter what happens. You tasted passion with me, and you’ll never be able to erase the imprint of those moments from your brain.
Gasping for air, Buffy pulls back from their kiss, and roughly shoves him down onto her bed. Swiftly moving to the door, she locks it, then coming back to him, she climbs on top of him and begins to unbutton his shirt.
Still stunned at her vehemence, Spike just watches her, drinking in her impetuous to be with him. Again. Her attention on his shirt’s buttons, her golden hair falls forward as she leans over him to complete the task. Her face is still flushed and wet from crying, but she’s still beautiful like this, he notes. Even pain and suffering makes her beauty shine instead of fading.
His red shirt is undone swiftly, and Spike considers it’s time he took control over these events.
Pulling her in for a fiery kiss, he rolls her over, so his body pins hers onto her bed. His mouth never detaching from hers, he discards his duster and button-down shirt with a skilled move, throwing them onto the carpet. She lets out a tiny whimper as his teeth accidentally scratch her lower lip, but without caring, continues kissing him, not wanting to miss the contact of their mouths for a minute.
The little accident makes the vampire freeze for a moment, but sensing her anxious clinging to him, he agrees to play the game by her rules. Not as if the rules were going to stop him from enjoying this. A wave of pleasant tingling sensation rushes through his body as the blood-drops mingling into her saliva and tears meet his tongue. Bloody hell, what an intoxicating nectar. The copperish flavour of blood mixing with salty teardrops and served in sweet saliva. Stimulated by this wonder, Spike gently sucks her wounded lip, not wasting any little drop of the treasure of the veins in her delicate body. She lets him “feed” from her lip, enjoying his tongue’s caresses and agitating rubs on her mouth.
While his lips are savouring the special flavour of hers, his cold hands undo the tiny buttons of her white shirt, revealing the lacy bra underneath. The sweet scent of her skin bathed in vanilla perfume meets his nose, and he inhales deeply, letting her unique smell fill his lungs. Shifting a little, ready and willing, she helps him take off her shirt, before one of his hand cups her breast covered by the delicate material. Rolling onto his side with her, he unclasps and hazily discards the lacy cloth, exposing her round, inviting breasts. However tempting the exotic nectar on her lips are, his mouth detached from hers, and he runs his tongue along her neck, over her collarbone, until it ends up licking her perky nipple. She moans and rushes her fingers through his spiky, blond hair.
“Shhh, luv,” he mutters against her breast, silencing her, “we play it quiet this time. You surely don’t want the Nibblet to hear you and come up for a free sex lesson,” he smirks.
Realizing he’s right, Buffy suppresses the moans of pleasure as he twists and swirls her nipple with his tongue and sucks it with those skilled lips. His t-shirt is in the way, so she grabs the hem of it, and ardently urges him to temporarily pull back from her. Getting rid of the shirt, Spike captures her mouth for another greedy kiss, pressing his upper body to hers, so that her hard nipples rub against his chest.
The excited vampire growls against her mouth as she firmly grabs his ass and massages it through the black denim. As if in response, he moves his hand to the zipper of her pants, and unzips it with an adept, swift move, revealing the whiteness of her lacy panties, which match her already-lying-somewhere-on-the-floor bra. Hoisting her hips, she impatiently urges him to discard the fashionable black pants, as if they were burning her skin. Acknowledging her intention with a smirk, he slides his hands under her panties and hurriedly removes both pieces of clothing in one move.
Driven by desperate desire, Buffy grasps his platinum hair to propel his head down for a fierce, noisy kiss. Completely turned on by her hunger, Spike winces at the sweet growing pain in his jeans. As if she read his mind, Buffy’s fingers frenzily attack his belt and zipper, and haphazardly release his hardness from its prison. With a relieved moan into the kiss, Spike hastily gets rid off his jeans, finally there’s no unneeded layer between their naked bodies.
Trailing along her side, his hand squeezes her thigh, and parting her legs assuredly, it slides to her sex to stroke her soaked curls. His lips detach from her mouth, move to her neck, to nibble on her soft skin. The intoxicating smell and feel her blood pumping in the arteries under the smooth, skin arouse him even more, Spike’s teeth play with her skin, placing little bite marks onto the exposed flesh, enjoying the suppressed whimpers from her throat at the pleasureful torture. His fingers dive into her wet folds, and rub against the hot flesh, sending a wave of pleasure through her body.
Her head falls back on the pillow, gasping as the heat is rising higher inside her. Her hand envelops his hard shaft, and amazed by his size again, eager to feel this length in her channel, she begins to stroke and rub it with quick moves.
His breath caught in his throat at her rough, hungry actions, Spike growls against her skin, “So you... want it... real rough?”
The demonic yellow light appears in his lusty, desire-darkened eyes, he murmurs into her ears with determination and passion, “Okay, Slayer, you got it,” and two of his fingers thrusts into her passage, hard and firm.
Buffy presses her lips together in order to not cry out loud, both of her hands gripping his hair. Satisfied with her reaction, he draws his fingers back, and drives them into her again with more strength than before.
“Don’t stop...” she utters in a stifled whimper.
“Never intended to, pet,” he whispers huskily, and repeats the sweet torment.
Arching under his muscular body, she grabs his ass, her nails digging deep into it, making the vampire hiss in pain. The unexpected, torture increasing his excitement, Spike quickens his fingers’ movements inside her, eliciting some lasting, quiet whimpers from her mouth, making her come in heavy streams. Burying her head into his gel-fragranced hair, she muffles her cry into the platinum curls, her hands clutching him for dear life.
“That’s it, Slayer,” he whispers hoarsely, proud of his effective actions, and breaks away from her neck, detaching his hand from her center, he sucks her juices off his fingers.
Bloody hell, it’s marvellous, he notes to himself as the salty flavor reaches his tongue.
“You’re so delicious,” he mutters in awe, staring at her flushed face, then his lips crashes down onto hers, giving her a sample of the taste that amazed him.
Tentatively, Buffy‘s mouth meets his, learning the flavour of the liquids he has summoned out of her. She has never known her own taste; none of her partners ever introduced it to her. They all just did the thing and never got her involved in such erotic games.
Dazed by this new experience, all she wants is to have him inside her again, to have him replace her misery with that mind-blowing sensation only he can seem to give her.
Grinding her center against his ready cock, moistening it with her juices, she breaks away from the battle of their tongues, and pleadingly gasps, “Fuck me, Spike, fuck me hard.”
Her hot breath lingering on his face and the enormous desire in her voice are the last drop in the glass. Positioning himself at her throbbing passage, his rock-hard shaft firmly dives through her inviting entrance, evoking a moan of pleasure from both of them.
Overwhelmed by devastating passion, he keeps on thrusting into her rough and wild, while his mouth captures hers to stifle her increasing cries.
To drive him deeper into her core, she wraps her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back. Her sharp nails leave a myriad of red lines behind as she draws them up along his spine, getting closer to the edge.
Her inner muscles tightening stronger around his manhood with every thrust, Spike can also tell his explosion isn’t far. His face winces as his pain increases.
“I love you,” he whispers before the final, rough thrust sends Buffy over the edge, making her body arch and shake in an intense orgasm.
She bits her lip so strong in order to not scream out loud that her teeth cut the sensitive flesh, and crimson-red blood emerges from the fresh wound.
Her orgasm triggers his own; he fills her with his cold milk, cock throbbing and pumping heavily into her hot channel. Suppressing his cry of release, he brushes his mouth against hers, tasting the fresh blood on her lips. This unexpected gift doubles his pleasure, and he empties himself completely into her burning cave.
As their bodies’ trembling subsides, Spike rolls off of her, panting heavily. He is still savouring the taste of her blood, restoring its unique flavor in his mind. Exhausted and totally spent, he glances up at her and sees fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Pet?” he props himself up on an elbow, anxiously studying her face.
She hears him calling her, but can’t face him.
My God, what have I done? her heart wrenches, and the tears of shame burn her eyes. Mom died only days ago, and I... What kind of daughter am I? This is a time of grief, and... what have I done? I’ve slept with Spike...
Disgusted with herself, she cries heavy tears of shame, self-loathing and more intense pain than before.
How could I have done this? She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve such a daughter like me. I’m a dirty bitch... How could I have been so weak? I’ve just let him take advantage of me.
Seeing the enormous suffering in her face’s mirror, Spike moves his hand to touch her cheek in comfort, but she shoves it away.
“Take your hand off of me!” she hisses through her teeth, casting a killer look at him.
Shocked at the abrupt change in her attitude, Spike just stares at her in confusion first, then considering her behaviour must be influenced by Joyce’s death, he concludes rather not to start a row with her, and nodding in silence, he gets up to search for his clothes.
Pulling the bedcover over herself in shame, Buffy buries her face into her palms, sobbing quietly.
Sighing helplessly, Spike gets dressed, mentally continuously cursing himself for conceding to her begging to have sex with her in this emotional state.
Bloody hell, mate, you really screwed this up. She will never forgive you.
While buttoning his shirt, intending to tell her that he didn’t want to hurt her, he tentatively calls her name, “Buffy, I didn’t want...”
She flings her head up, tears smeared all over her face, and giving him an exasperated look, full of hatred, she shouts, “Get out! Get out of here!”
Ashamed and stunned, he shoots her a last, helpless glance, then putting on his duster, he leaves through the window.
Crying uncontrollably, giving free reign to her feelings, Buffy collapses on her bed, burying her head into her pillow.
“Buffy! Are you alright?” suddenly the desperately anxious voice of her sister calls from behind the locked door. “Buffy! Let me in!”
Trying to regain her composure, wiping her eyes, Buffy sits up and puts on her robe, then walks to the door and unlocks it.
With a frightened and worried expression, Dawn enters the room.
“Buffy, are you okay? I heard you shouting...” her voice falters as she notices Buffy’s red, teary face and the messy sheets on her bed. “What happened?” she asks with genuine worry in her eyes and touches her sister’s forehead. “You’re sweating. You’re sick. Nightmares?” she inquires sympathetically, “You can tell me...”
Not being able to hold back her tears of shame and guilt, Buffy breaks down, and weeping heavily, she pulls Dawn into a hug.
“Buffy, I know what you’re going through,” Dawn consoles her, stroking her sister’s blonde hair. “I miss mommy too. It hurts a lot. But we’ll get through this all together.”
Pulling back from Buffy, Dawn caresses her cheek, “But now you have to get some sleep. I’ll bring you some pills, they’ll do you good,” she propels Buffy to the bed and helps her between the sheets. “And don’t fear, you’re not alone. I’m here for you.”
Hearing her speaking like this, Spike’s words echo in Buffy’s mind. “You’re not alone, luv. You have the Nibblet and your friends. And I’m also here for you...”
Damn, why does he always haunt me? Why am I not able to get rid of him?
Her desperate thoughts are interrupted by Dawn’s voice as she comes back with the sleeping-pill for her.
“Here, Buffy,” she hands her the pills and a glass of water. “Take this. It’ll help you to sleep.”
Buffy obeys her and swallowing the tablets, she sinks back onto the bed.
“Good,” Dawn notes with maternal care and tucks her sister in. “Sleep tight.”
She sweeps a sweaty strand of hair off of Buffy’s face and leaves the room.
Buffy closes her eyes, trying to relax, but in vain. Dawn’s caring attitude and genuine worry increases her shame. Poor girl is anxious about her being sick. But in some way she’s right.
I’m sick of myself. I feel filthy and I’m disgusted with myself for what I have done.
Her tears don’t dry up until the effects of the sleeping pills come over and she slowly falls asleep.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Timeline: S5, during Forever, but some time before Joyce’s funeral.
Spoilers: Crush, The Body.
Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.
Author Note: Italics indicate character’s thoughts. Thank you for the reviews and comments for the previous story, “Heat and Desire.” Many of you asked for a sequel, so this fic is dedicated to you. :)
And thank you very much to Joanna and Sirc for betareading this for me. *hugs*
Spoilers: Crush, The Body.
Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.
Author Note: Italics indicate character’s thoughts. Thank you for the reviews and comments for the previous story, “Heat and Desire.” Many of you asked for a sequel, so this fic is dedicated to you. :)
And thank you very much to Joanna and Sirc for betareading this for me. *hugs*