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Chapter Five

Caritas was known as a place where anyone, or any demon, could come to relax and have a good time. There were also some hard and fast rules about behavior in the bar that helped make it a zone of tranquility for those demons that chose not to make murder and mayhem their constant companions. There was a strict no-fighting rule, as well as a rule protecting any human customers that might come in with demons, just as Cordelia frequently did with Angel.

However, demons as a group weren’t known for rule following, so some nights there were problems. As though Lorne wasn’t finding having two angry master vampires and a Slayer at the same table nerve-wracking enough, the door burst open and in rolled a gang of snarling demons in biker gear.

Lorne hastened to the door to greet them before they could actually all get into his bar. His attempt to convince them that they would be happier somewhere else was met with a backhanded slap that sent him sprawling onto the stage. While Buffy rolled her eyes and groaned, “Not in my good clothes!”, Spike leapt to his feet with a happy gleam in his eye. Cordelia scampered back behind the bar, picking up the baseball bat that she knew Lorne kept there, while Angel got to his feet snarling at the interruption.

The gang’s forward progress stopped as they caught sight of the two vampires facing them. One was scowling quite impressively, his game face just beginning to come to the fore. The other, smaller one, was still in his human guise and was literally bouncing on his toes as he gestured them forward. His “come and get it” signals were unmistakable and the demons crowded through the door eager to be first to take him on.

None of them paid any attention to the very small, extremely pissed off human girl standing behind the two vampires, except perhaps to note that she might be a fun toy once they took over the place.

With the entire gang trying to crowd through the entryway at the same time, it was fairly easy for Spike and Angel to pick up one or two to fight simultaneously. But, once they had been forced back a little, the whole gang shoved their way in and fighting broke out all over the floor.

Lorne had made his way back to the bar and was busy trying to protect his glasses and bottles, while Cordelia whacked away with the ball bat at any demon that got too close. When one reached over the counter to grab Lorne, she cracked the demon’s head open; then hit him again in the face, sending him to the floor unconscious. Predictably, she then held the gore-smeared bat away from her clothes and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Meanwhile, Spike was working out his anger at Angel on as many demons as he could get to come within reach of his fists and fangs. His initial fury soon faded into his usual joyful appreciation of a good brawl as he worked his way through the first bikers to come through the door.

Angel, more predictably, was methodically destroying one demon at a time; only moving on to the next one when he had finished with the one he was currently pounding into the floor.

Buffy was watching anxiously, really not wanting to ruin her new dress, but feeling her juices begin to rise as the fight ebbed and flowed around her. When one of the bikers slashed Spike with his claws, sending blood from the blond vampire onto Buffy’s dress, as well as tearing the sleeve off his suit, she threw her arms up in the air and huffed, “Okay, that’s it!”

Leaping into the fray, she sent the offending demon to the floor with one kick. She continued to punch and kick him, punctuating her blows with muttered complaints about her ruined evening.

“First the stupid vampire embarrasses me in a nice club.” Whack!

“Then a bunch of,” Whack, thump! “incredibly ugly,” Kick, snap! “demons get blood on my new dress.”

When she finished turning the unfortunate demon into a pile of whimpering goo, she stepped up beside an admiring Spike to inspect his arm. She took a second to mourn for the beautiful suit that was now armless, before checking the wound. It didn’t appear to be incapacitating, so she turned back to the still-determined demons rushing toward them.

“Incoming, pet,” the vampire smirked as he pushed one her way.

“These morons are sooo going to pay for spoiling my night off,” she groused as she stepped up beside him, mentally rolling up her sleeves.

“Let’s do it, Slayer,” he grinned at her, happy to see that she wasn’t at all put off by his fangs and wrinkles.

The two blonds fell into a rhythm, working together as though they were parts of the same person. The fighting gradually died out all around them, until the only contests left were the two visitors steadily decimating the remains of the demon gang. They punched and kicked and ducked almost in unison. If one missed or took a hit, the other was there to take up the slack. It would have looked like a choreographed dance if it weren’t for the sound of breaking bones and the sprays of blood.

Angel was leaning against the bar with Lorne and Cordelia, watching his grandchilde and his ex girlfriend with a mixture of jealousy and pride.

“They’re pretty awesome together, aren’t they,” Lorne ventured, watching Angel out of the corner of his eye.

“That they are, Lorne,” he answered softly, with just a trace of his Irish brogue showing through briefly. “That they are. They make a good team.” This last was said with a touch of sadness in his voice. “Is that what you didn’t want to tell me about them? That they’re a team?”

Lorne thought for a second too long before saying, “Yes, that was pretty much it, Angelcakes.”

Angel looked at the two now-triumphant blonds, leaning on each other in laughter as they went back to the surprisingly intact table and said flatly, “You’re a liar, Lorne.” The green demon blinked at him apologetically, but before he could say anything, Angel added, “Thank you for that.” He walked back to the table where Cordelia was just regaining her seat and sat down heavily.

“Well, that was refreshing,” Spike said, downing the new drink Lorne had placed in front of him. “Nothing like a spot of violence to finish off an almost perfect evening.” The pointed, but surprisingly good-humored look he sent toward Angel made it clear which parts weren’t perfect.

“There is nothing perfect about getting blood and demon guts all over my new dress,” Buffy grumbled. Her cranky tone of voice was belied by the color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eye.

“Fess up, Slayer. You enjoyed that just as much as I did,” Spike said, wagging his finger at her.

She looked around at Lorne’s clean-up crew collecting the dead demons and rolled her eyes. “I SO did not,” she huffed, but she was smiling at him as she did so.

Then her eyes fell on the ruined suit jacket and shirt and she moaned. “Oh, your clothes are ruined too. And I liked you in that suit.”

“He’s got plenty more where that came from,” Angel growled. “And it’s not as if he can’t buy more.”

Buffy looked at Angel like he’d lost his mind.

“This is Spike! He wears the same thing every day. He steals cigarettes and blood, and plays pool for poker money.”

“Buffy, he does those things because he likes to. Not because he has to.”

Angel successfully ignored his frantically signaling grandchilde, and smiled when Buffy sent the younger vampire a “we’ll talk about this later” look.

Spike glared at the once-again-brooding older vampire and growled, “So, Peaches, as much fun as this has been, we need to get on the road if we’re gonna get back to Sunnyhell before I risk serious sunburn. I’m guessing Kermit over there told you I’m not plannin’ to harm the Slayer?”

Angel just looked at him under lowered eyebrows and snarled.

“Right, then.” He stood up and offered Buffy his un-bloody arm. “Coming, love?”

He deliberately sent his eyes roaming over her body in a way he knew would make her warm and laughed softly when she blushed all over. Doing her best to ignore his double entendre, she gave Lorne a little wave and said ‘Good-bye “ to Cordelia. For the first time that either of them could remember, a visit with Angel didn’t end with a good-bye hug and kiss. Buffy gave him a sad smile, but she was still too angry about her spoiled trip to a dance club, not to mention the subsequent damage to her wardrobe, to bring herself to hug him.

Buffy complained all the way to the car about her ruined dress, messed up hair, and general lack of the fine grooming with which she had started the evening.

“I’m a complete mess,” she muttered.

As they neared the Desoto, Spike finally had enough of listening to her whine about her appearance and he grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him.

“You,” he said flatly, “are the most beautiful woman in this city. I don’t care how much demon blood you have on you, or how much slime you have in your hair.” He raised a hand to push said hair back from her face and continued in a softer tone of voice, “You are a queen. Venus herself would be jealous of you, Buffy. You will never look anything less than wonderful to me.”

Buffy was left completely speechless by his ability to bounce back and forth between violence-loving vampire and the poetic Victorian gentleman she was beginning to suspect he had been before Drusilla turned him. His words, and the emotion pouring out of his eyes, made her uncomfortable at the same time that the woman in her was thrilled to be the object of this passionate man’s ardor.

“I...I have slime in my hair?” she said in a small voice. It seemed the safest option, considering all the other things he’d said.

(Way to seem self-absorbed, Buffy. He tells you he thinks you’re beautiful, and you complain about slime in your hair. Wait! Spike thinks I’m beautiful?)

Using anger to cover his disappointment that she hadn’t responded to his sincere flattery, he threw up his hands and turned back to the car growling, “Fine! Let’s get back to Sunnydale so you can wash your bloody hair!”

As he reached for the door handle, he was suddenly slammed up against the car from behind. He whirled, demon face emerging, to face the attack, only to find himself pressed back against the door by a warm, feminine body. Buffy kept him pinned there for several long seconds, staring into his puzzled eyes. Finally, she asked softly, “You think I’m beautiful?”

“You know I do, love. Told you often enough in the last couple of days.” He leaned in and kissed her gently as he murmured, “Think you’re beautiful.” Kiss. “Strong.” Kiss. “Brave.” Kiss. “Sexy.” The last word was practically growled into her mouth as he fastened his lips on hers and ran his tongue around them until she sent hers out to caress it.

With a groan, he pulled her even tighter against his body and let her feel the desire that had been steadily building in him since he watched her come down the stairs. She moaned into his mouth and allowed herself to melt against him, knowing the arms wrapped around her wouldn’t let her fall when her knees gave out.

Once again the fabric of his dress pants provided only a thin barrier between her warmth and his hard cock. When her small hand touched him through the cloth, he hissed and thrust forward involuntarily. His hands were moving down her bare back, making her shiver as they ghosted over her skin. When he got to the bottom of her spine, he slipped them into the waistband of the dress and down over her firm cheeks, pulling her even more tightly against him.

When she tried to wrap one leg around his hip, to increase the pressure on her aching sex, he used his grip on her ass to lift her up so that she was pressed against his fabric-covered cock. Buffy ground herself against him, whimpering in her need for more contact. As one of his hands reached under her skirt to shove aside her thong, she gasped and squeezed the fingers he slid into her.

Leaning back just enough to fit her hand between them, Buffy reached for his zipper and pulled it down, mewing softly when it seemed to get stuck part way. At last it was down and she could pull his smooth cool length out and place it at her entrance. He immediately removed his fingers and allowed the head of his cock to push into her waiting warmth.

Using his arms for support, Buffy gradually lowered herself onto him, shutting her eyes and throwing back her head, the better to appreciate the feeling of being stretched and filled.

Spike growled as he felt her warm walls slowly enclose his aching shaft. When he was finally in as far as he could go, he held her hips still, moving his own hips around until he heard her gasp. He knew then he’d found the spot he was looking for, and began to slowly push in and out of her, touching that spot with each thrust. He turned them and put her up against the side of the car to give himself better leverage as his thrusts came harder and faster.

It briefly occurred to Buffy that they were standing in a parking lot, albeit a dark one, and that they could be discovered at any moment. To her surprise, she found that she was even more turned on by the idea of someone seeing them, and she filed that away as information to be vigorously denied if she remembered it later.

With the way they had been teasing each other all night, as well as the ferociousness of Spike’s attack on her body, it was a very short time before Buffy was clenching around him and making the little gasping sounds he already knew meant she was reaching her climax.

When he felt her begin to shudder with the force of her orgasm, he let himself go and he spasmed into her at the same time she was muffling her shriek against his jacketed shoulder.

For several minutes after, he remained inside her, the weight of his body keeping her up against the car as they both struggled to breathe normally. The sounds of people passing by on the street finally brought them back to awareness of where they were, and she pushed against him feebly to make him let her down.

He growled softly when he slipped out of her, only slightly mollified by Buffy’s matching little whimper of protest. He moved back far enough to let her skirt fall back around her knees, but didn’t release her to take his face out of where it was buried in her hair.

Suddenly, his head flew up. His enhanced hearing picked up the sound of his grandsire’s voice and he realized Angel and Cordelia were leaving the club. No matter how brave and foolhardy Spike could be, he knew that letting Angel spot him shagging Buffy against a car in a parking lot would lead to a fight to the death. A fight that would leave Buffy mourning no matter which of them won.

He stepped back from her with a quick kiss and whispered in her ear, “Got to get movin’, love. Sounds like the Poof and the Cheerleader are on the way out.”

He heard her heart beat, which had just dropped back to normal, accelerate again as she took in what he’d said. With a very un-Slayerlike squeak, she whirled and dove into the now open door of the car, crawling past the steering wheel and across the seat on her hands and knees. Spike was right behind her, shoving her away as he dropped behind the steering wheel.

“Much as I like this view, pet,” he said appreciatively of her waving rear end, “I don’t have time to enjoy it if I’m gonna live to get out of this parking lot.”

Before she had even turned around to sit down properly, he was backing out of the parking space and slamming the car into drive. From her place on the floor where she landed when he went into reverse, Buffy thought she could hear Angel’s muffled, “Spike? Is that –“ Whatever else he might have said was lost in the sound of squealing tires and the roar of a V-8 engine as they left the parking lot on two wheels.

Fifteen minutes later they were safely on the freeway and heading back toward Sunnydale. Buffy was back on the seat by this time, and sitting by the window, letting the cool night air dry her sweaty hair.

(I am so in need of a shower! I have demon slime in my hair, I’m sweaty, and I’ve got Spike stuff sliding down my legs.)

She turned her head slightly to look at his intent profile as he pushed the big car down the highway at attention attracting speeds.

“Don’t you think you ought to slow down?” she finally asked. “If we get stopped...”

“Don’t plan to get stopped, pet,” he answered, but he did ease off the gas pedal enough that he could steal a look at her. He couldn’t read her face, and her body language told him nothing.

(Can’t tell if she’s sorry we did it; sorry we got interrupted; or jus’ plain sorry she ever went out tonight. Sure as hell wasn’t the ending I was planning for the evening.)

They rode on in silence until Buffy began yawning and Spike patted his thigh and offered, “Want to put your head down, pet? Maybe catch some kip on the way home?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer from her, and he didn’t get a verbal one. What he did get was a lap full of demon-slimed blond hair as she dropped her warm cheek onto his leg and closed her eyes with a sigh. He dropped one hand down to rest on her shoulder and drove into the night.


Chapter Six

By the time they pulled into Buffy’s driveway, the eastern sky was beginning to lighten and Spike’s body was screaming at him to get to shelter. He shook Buffy’s shoulder gently and whispered, “Wake up, love. I need to get home before I fry.”

Instead of sitting up, she just turned her head and murmured sleepily as she burrowed into his lap. Her warm breath on his lower abdomen was all it took to bring him back to attention, and his cock was immediately nudging the side of her face. She squirmed around a little more, obviously not awake enough to realize what body part she was pushing against with her nose.

A strangled, “Blood hell!” from the vampire, finally got through the fog in her brain and she froze as she took in her position and remembered where she was.

Spike was already putting his hand between her head and the steering wheel so that she wouldn’t injury herself when she bolted upright; but to his surprise, she remained where she was. He soon realized she was deliberately blowing her warm breath on his already hard cock, and he made a noise between a growl and a groan.

“You’ve got to stop that, pet. One way or another, I’m going explode into dust. Not sure if it’s gonna be you or the sun that does it, but...”

Giving his cock one last nudge with her nose, she giggled and sat up carefully. Looking at him and batting her eyes innocently she said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

“Very funny, Slayer,” he growled, adjusting himself and reaching for the door handle. “’S a good thing I’m so tired or I’d never get to sleep this morning.”

“You- you’re not coming in?”

The disappointed look on her face would have made his heard stop, had it been beating. He looked into her anxious eyes and breathed, “D’you want me to?”

Buffy blushed and looked away, embarrassed.

“Well, no. I mean not if you don’t want to. I can see why you’d want to get home. You need to sleep. I need to clean up. You need to...” Her babbling trailed off when he took her chin and tilted it up toward his face.

“’S not a question of what I want, love. You bloody well know what I want. Do YOU want me to come in? Sun’s comin’ up. You’ll be stuck with me all day.”

She flushed again, but held his eyes as she whispered, “That’s kinda what I had in mind.”

Instead of answering her, he pushed the door open and held it as he quickly pulled her out onto the driveway. They walked to the door, Buffy fumbling for her key as she tried to calm her racing heart.

(OK, I’m inviting him in. To spend the day. With me. To do what? Sleeping? We can do sleeping. Maybe shower? Shower with Spike? Wet, soapy Spike? Argh! Do I really want to do this?)

She took a peek at the puzzled vampire standing beside her, and gave herself a mental shake.

(Yes, I do. I want him. I want him in the shower. I want him in my bed. I want him in ME. Repeatedly. It’s summertime . I’m entitled to a summer fling. I saved the world, dammit. .)

Spike stood just outside the door, wanting to follow her in, but puzzled by the rapid increase in her heart rate and breathing. It wasn’t hard to see the confusion going on in her head, as every thought was reflected on her mobile face. When she settled into a look he recognized – one of stubborn determination, he smiled and followed her inside.

(Don’t know what that was all about, but looks like she made up her mind about somethin’. Hope it’s what I think it is.)

Closing the door behind them, Buffy blushed to the roots of her hair as she mumbled, “Uh, I think we...that is, I...you...” She stopped, unable to say what she wanted. She looked at him with pleading eyes, willing him to read her mind and not make her say it.

Smothering a grin, he pulled her into his chest gently and whispered in her ear, “Think we need to get cleaned up, pet. That what you are trying so eloquently to say?”

She nodded her head dumbly, fighting the shivers that his cool breath sent through her body.

(What’s the matter with me? I let him screw me up against a car, outside, in public! Now I can’t tell him I want to get him naked? Buffy the Slayer-slut is suddenly shy?)

Letting go of her, Spike shrugged out of his ruined jacket and dropped it on the floor.

“Right then, pet. Showers it is. Who’s goin’ first?” He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at her, enjoying the blush that spread over her face again.

As soon as Buffy realized he was teasing her, she lost her embarrassment and whirled to run upstairs, throwing over her shoulder, “Whoever gets in there first!.”

With a whoop, the vampire followed her with supernatural speed, catching her at the top of the stairs and tackling her to the floor. He planted a quick kiss on her indignant face; then was on his feet and into the bathroom before she could move. By the time Buffy made it through the bathroom door, he was already naked and turning on the water.

Buffy stopped to admire his tight ass and to watch the muscles in his back flexing as he bent over the tub to adjust the temperature.

When he had it to his satisfaction, he turned to her and smiled when he saw how she was looking at him.

“Like what you see, love?” he smirked, running a hand down his chest to his taut stomach.

In reply, Buffy approached him and ran her own hand lightly down the same path. She smiled to herself when he hissed and clenched his fists, his cocky expression giving way immediately to one of heated desire. It gave her a jolt of purely female pride to know that she could reduce the cocky vampire to a quivering beggar with just a touch. She shot him a triumphant look, then turned her back and lifted her hair.

“Unfasten my dress for me?” she asked softly.

He stared for a second at the graceful neck she was presenting for him, then lowered his head and used his lips and teeth to unhook the halter top. He reached around in front of her and caught the top as it fell, holding it against her chest and running his thumbs over her now-exposed nipples. His cool lips continued to nibble on the back of her neck as he pulled her back against his body.

Buffy felt wetness begin to seep out around her thong as she leaned back into him, enjoying the sensation of his cool hands running over her body. When he came to the top of her skirt, she shimmied her hips to help him slid the dress the rest of the way off. It pooled at her feet and she almost collapsed into it when he slid a hand into her thong and cupped her mound. She moaned and pushed against his hand.

“Still too many clothes,” he growled into her neck, pushing the underwear down until she could hook it with her toes and pull it the rest of the way off.

He turned her around and held her at arms’ length, his eyes running from her still-slimy hair to her bare toes.

“So beautiful,” he breathed. “A golden goddess.”

Once again, his flowery praise made her feel uncomfortable and she broke the mood by stepping into the shower and saying, “A slimy, sweaty, goddess.”

He barely controlled his sigh of exasperation at her inability to take a compliment from him. He wanted to be angry, but the sight of her standing under the running water with her head thrown back was too much and he quickly stepped in behind her.

While Buffy allowed the running water to soak her head, he reached for the shampoo and poured some into his palm. He eased her forward out of the running water and gently began to massage her head with his long fingers. He continued to rub her scalp long past the point where there was a need to spread shampoo; lost in the feel of her hair and the contented sounds she was making as he worked the suds around her head.

Finally he allowed her back under the water, and while she was rinsing out the shampoo, he picked up the nylon scrubber and poured vanilla scented body gel on it. He began at her neck and moved gently around her body, using the sponge and his hands to spread the suds. When he came to her breasts, he dropped the sponge and used his hands to massage the soap into them. He watched her nipples come to little hard peaks, and couldn’t resist tweaking them with his fingers.

Buffy playfully slapped his hand away and reached down for the scrubber he had dropped. While Spike continued using his hands to spread the soap around her body, she began running the nylon sponge over his muscled chest and abdomen. When they had cleaned each other’s fronts as much as was possible without sitting down, they stepped closer together and without discussion, put their arms around each other to begin working the bubbles around their backs.

It wasn’t long before proximity to Buffy’s warm, wet body had the inevitable effect on Spike and his cock bobbed against her stomach as she stretched her arms around to reach his back. When she slid her soapy hands down to his ass and cupped his cheeks, he stopped pretending he wasn’t aroused and pulled her in against him. He slipped his own hands down over her ass and let his fingers wander into the cleft. He smiled when his questing finger’s gentle circling of her smaller hole made her gasp and clasp her legs together.

When his persistent exploration made her squeal, he broke into actual laughter as he licked water off her neck.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked. “How would you like it if I did that to you?” She fully expected him to back off from her challenge. Instead, his eyes became even darker as he shook with laughter and nuzzled her throat.

“Oh, love, if you only would...” he purred into her neck as his fingers continued to find their way past her clenched thighs and onto more acceptable places.

“Wha-? Ewww, Spike! You are such a pig!”

“Oink, oink, pet,” he said, completely unfazed. “Could show you how much fun it is to wallow, Slayer. Could teach you so much...” Somewhere in the middle of his teasing, visions of teaching her the things he had learned about sex in his over 120 years of unlife completely took over his brain and he forgot what he was saying and doing. His hands stilled and his eyes unfocused for a minute as he began to fantasize.

Buffy’s curious, “Spike?” brought him back to the realty of the warm, wet body already in his arms and he mentally smacked himself for allowing his mind to wander away from what was right in front of him.

“Sorry, pet,” he said apologetically, “let my brain get ahead of my...other parts there. Forgot what I was doin’ for a sec.”

“Forgot? You forgot what you were doing?” Anger and a trace of insecurity crossed the Slayer’s face at his words.

(Fuck! Way to bollix it up, wanker!)

Hurt that he seemed able to think about something else while she thought they were working their way toward more sex, Buffy struggled to get out of his embrace. He held her slippery body as tightly as he could and frantically tried to calm her down.

“Slayer. Buffy. Please. Listen to me, love. Please.”

His pleading voice kept her from continuing to struggle, but she refused to look at him and stood rigidly inside his embrace, arms folded across her chest. He wanted to tip her face up so that she could read the truth in his eyes, but he was afraid if he let go she would slip away from him and out of the tub.

He settled for running light kisses from her forehead, down her cheek and jaw and onto her neck. He ran his tongue lightly over the area just behind and below her ear that he was coming to realize was an erogenous zone for her. While his lips and tongue worked their magic, he began speaking softly to her.

“Didn’t forget because I wasn’t into it, love. I just got wound up in all the things I want to do with you; things I want to do to you; things I want to teach you to do to me. It was visions of how wonderful we could be together that had me gobsmacked there for a minute. Never meant to ignore you, my love. Could never ignore you. Want you all the time, any and every way I can have you.”

“Really?” she asked quietly, relaxing slightly in his embrace. She peered up at him through wet hair. “Gobsmacked, huh? What does that even mean?”

“Means,” he said, smiling with relief, “that when I’m around you my brain goes out to lunch sometimes and all I can think about is makin’ lo- shaggin’ you into the ground. You can’t be mad at me for that, can you, pet?” He looked down at her dripping face hopefully and risked letting go so that he could push the wet hair out of her eyes.

“So, you still want me?”

Instead of answering her, he picked her up and placed her legs around his waist, so that she could feel how much he wanted her pressing against her bottom. When she shook her head, “No” and tried to get down, his heart sank and he started to plead with her again. But she put her fingers against his lips and whispered, “I just want to try it in a bed this time.”

“As you wish, love,” he whispered back as he lowered her feet to the bottom of the tub. They quickly rinsed off and stepped out. Spike grabbed a large towel and began running it gently over her body, patting her dry and planting kisses every time he finished an area. When he came to her soft curls, instead of using the towel, he licked them until there was no water left to lick and Buffy was clinging to the sink to support herself. Her knees had long since refused to hold her up as his tongue flicked in and out of her folds making sure he got every last drop of bath water.

When all he could taste was the heady nectar of her arousal, he stopped and stood up to quickly flick the towel over his body. As soon as he was dry enough, he dropped the towel and opened the bathroom door. He turned, scooped her up in his arms, and strode out into the hall looking back and forth between the bedrooms.

“Over there,” Buffy breathed, pointing a dainty finger toward her bedroom.

Spike kicked open the door, using his heel to nudge it shut behind him. He walked over to the rumpled bed and carefully set her down beside it. Suddenly shy again, Buffy dropped her gaze and stood twisting her hands awkwardly, wondering what to do next. One look at his face and she relaxed. The vampire was looking at her with such obvious desire that she immediately regained her feeling of womanly power.

She reached out a hand and gently stroked his smooth hardness, smiling when he closed his eyes and sighed. Emboldened by the fact that he wasn’t watching her, she rubbed her thumb over the head, spreading the pre-cum around. She then slid her hand down the shaft, pumping gently and watching his face.

As soon as she squeezed him and began pumping, he suddenly had to watch, and he stared in awe at her small hand working the length of his cock. When she sank down onto the bed to take him in her warm mouth, he couldn’t stop the flow of verbal encouragement while she sucked and licked him.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth is ... Feels so good, your hot little mouth, little pink tongue, on me, sucking me, Ahhh!” he almost screamed as she nipped at him with her blunt little teeth. Encouraged, she continued to nibble her way up one side and down the other, pausing at the top to insert her tongue in the little slit, and run it around under his foreskin. By the time she was done there, the vampire was babbling almost incoherently and pushing his hips toward her in an effort to put more of his cock inside her warm mouth.

Buffy decided to experiment while she had a willing subject, and she fought back her gag reflex so that she could get him into her throat. Spike’s size made it impossible for her to take him all in her mouth, but she was able to get the head far enough down her throat that when she swallowed, he growled and grabbed her head, stilling it temporarily.

She shook his hands off, the rotation of her head making him cry out again, and continued what she was doing. She was determined to take it through to its logical conclusion and smiled to herself when she felt his balls tighten up under her hand and his thrusts become uncontrolled. With a final strangled yell, he spilled into her throat and she swallowed him down, each swallow milking even more from him.

When he finally stilled, she lifted her head and made sure he was watching as she licked her lips of every last drop. She was hoping to see something to let her know that she’d done a good job, but the expression on his face made her stomach drop. She’d never seen quite that look before and she glanced away from him to hide her confusion. Something about his expression told her that she didn’t want him to speak just then. She was so sure that he was going to say something to change things between them, that she grabbed him and pulled him on to the bed, stopping his mouth with a kiss.

The vampire wasn’t fooled. He knew she was avoiding having to deal with what she could read on his face, but he couldn’t help himself. The sight of Buffy looking up at him, his cum still on her lips, her eyes anxiously looking for his approval, made it impossible for him to deny what was happening.

(Bloody, buggering fuck. I’m fallin’ in love with her. Spike, William the Bloody, is in love with a Slayer. Might as well fall on a stake now. There’s no way this can end well.)

Even as he rolled his body on top her hers, kissing her back with everything he had, he was wondering how long it would be before she broke his heart just as Drusilla had. He knew she didn’t love him. Liked him maybe. Lusted after his body and his talented hands and tongue; but there was no way Heaven’s Chosen One was going to fall in love with a soulless vampire. Even a harmless one.

Mentally shaking off his momentary sadness, he concentrated instead on the scent, taste and feel of the woman writhing under him. He took her two hands in one of his and stretched them over her head, silently encouraging her to grasp the rails on the headboard.

Their bodies were pressed together, warm fragrant skin to cool, smooth flesh. Buffy moaned and squirmed under him as though she couldn’t get close enough, but she obediently kept her hands around the railings.

As soon as he was sure she was going to stay there, he let go of her hands and began moving his long, cool fingers down her body, following them with his lips and tongue. He suckled on each breast for minutes at a time, using his hands to caress the other one while he did. He gloried in the way Buffy arched up into his mouth when it fastened on her nipple. He nipped and licked at them until the peaks were hard as diamonds and bright red.

Leaving his hands to keep her breasts happy, he ran his mouth down her rib cage and onto her flat stomach. He tickled her navel with his tongue, running it around and around until she squirmed and giggled between gasps. Then he kissed his way across her hip bone and down to where her leg met her lower abdomen. He paused to suck over her femoral artery and enjoy the sounds and scents of blood rushing past his mouth. Pulling on the skin there, and sucking as hard as he had on her breast, he felt her fighting the urge to ask for his fangs.

He knew he didn’t have enough control of his demon to resist the bite if she offered it, so he reluctantly moved away from the tempting rush of her blood and began planting kisses down the inside of her thigh to her knee. By the time he had worked his way back up the other leg, she was whimpering in need and pushing her hips up off the bed. He blew his cool breath across her pubic bone, stirring the curls there and causing another whimper.

Using his hand to hold her hips still, he nuzzled his way between her outer lips, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal and lapping up the moisture he found there. Her legs fell apart as she felt his tongue slide into her wetness and she moaned in relief. Her relief was short-lived as he continued to tease her by running his tongue around her outer lips, carefully avoiding the swollen nub she was trying to force into his mouth.

He ran his tongue into her warm opening, wriggling it inside and making her twitch before he ran it from there all the way up to her clit. He then proceeded to lick her throbbing clit with forceful flicks of his tongue until she ground out a snarling, “Spike...If you want to live...”

He smiled into her, then raised his head long enough to say, “Alright, love. I love your sweet tasting cunny, but I guess I’ve been playin’ long enough.”

“Too long,” she gasped, as he pulled her into his mouth and began to suck on her clit, at the same time his tongue continued to flick back and forth across it. In no time Buffy was panting and whimpering as she tried to press herself against his mouth, growling when he held her hips still. By the time she arched off the bed, screaming his name, he was rock hard again.

He gave her a minute to calm down from the tremors still shaking her body before he slid up and into her tight warmth. He buried himself with one strong push, then stilled as he waited for her to notice where he was.

“That what you wanted, then, love?” he murmured as he sucked on her earlobe. “Did the Big Bad give you what you wanted?”

“Took you long enough,” she sighed, relaxing the muscles that had just clenched almost to the point of cramping when her whole body spasmed in pleasure.

“Evil, here, pet. Remember?” He smiled into her neck and licked the pulse pounding there. He ran his tongue lightly over the spot he had marked at his crypt and was gratified to feel her shiver slightly at the sensation created.

Buffy opened one eye and looked at him suspiciously. “What the hell was that? I thought you said it was going to go away.”

“Don’ want it to go away,” he mumbled, thinking she couldn’t hear him.

“Spike...” There was a warning in her voice, and she shifted under him as though she was thinking about pushing him off.

His head flew up and he looked at her with so much fear she was shocked. She’d never seen Spike be afraid of anything, human or demon, but here he was staring at her, almost quaking with it. She frowned at him, not quite sure what had just happened.

“Spike? What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” She could feel him clutching her arms and his body was trembling. She wracked her brain for what might have happened or what she might have said or done to bring on this reaction. She was shocked at the look in his eyes as he answered her.

(Are those tears? What the hell did I say?)

“I didn’t mean it, Buffy. I swear, I didn’t. I’m not tryin’ to own you, love. Wouldn’t keep you if you didn’t want to be with me. Don’t push me away, love. Don’t make me leave. Won’t bite you again. Promise you.”

There was no trace of the cocky, violence-loving demon on the pleading face before her. She realized that he thought she was recoiling from his demon and its attempt to claim her. Surprisingly, she felt no sense of disgust or revulsion at the idea that his demon wanted to make her his. She had a feeling that belonging to Spike’s demon might very well be something she wouldn’t mind at all if she weren’t the Slayer.

“I wasn’t accusing you of trying to claim me again,” she said soothingly. “I was just asking why I could still feel it when you touched the marks. I’m not mad at you, you big baby.”

“Oh.” He looked back at her and made a feeble attempt to save the situation. “I knew that. Was jus’ testin’ you, is all.”

She just rolled her eyes and wriggled against him, reminding him that they had been in the middle of something.

“Right, then,” he muttered, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity. “One good shaggin’ comin’ up. Hang on to your knickers, Slayer.”

Her giggle was enough to banish the specter of his embarrassing behavior and he began moving slowly in and out of her tightness, losing his sense of insecurity as she put her arms around him and pulled him even closer. He could hear her panting whimpers as he rotated his hips to get both her clit and the nerves he was looking for inside.

When she brought her legs up and locked her ankles behind his back, he let the demon out and began pounding into her, shaking the bed and pushing her back against the brass headboard. As hard as he was thrusting, the Slayer was pushing back against him and meeting him thrust for thrust. It briefly crossed Buffy’s mind that there was no need to control her Slayer strength with Spike and she could let her self go in ways she couldn’t with Riley.

Secure in that knowledge, she allowed herself to take what she wanted and demand more for the first time in her short life. Her nails raked his back as she arched into his strong body and pulled him to her.

“Give it to me, Buffy. Give it to me good,” he gasped as she clenched her muscles around his cock. He wondered briefly how her human lovers managed to survive love-making with Buffy with their equipment intact, as he felt the pleasure/pain that made shagging her better than anything he’d ever felt before. Even his inventive dark princess, had never made him feel like this.

He felt the pressure building and his balls tightening as he buried himself in the warmth of her tight, velvet walls.

“Come for me, love. Want you to come with me. Let it go, sweetheart. Let yourself feel me. Feel me Buffy. Can you feel me filling you up?”

Her shuddering body was his only answer as she pulled him into her so hard he thought they might break each other’s bones. When the last wave of sensation had finally subsided, Buffy relaxed the grip she had on him enough that he could turn his head and bury his nose in her neck. Without thinking, he licked his barely visible bite marks again.

This time, when the tingle went through Buffy’s body, she just relaxed and arched her neck to give him better access. As the licking went on, the tingle changed to a much less stimulating feeling and she found herself basking in a state of overall peace and contentment.

(Maybe there’s something to be said for this claim stuff. When I think I can be bothered moving my mouth again, I’ll ask him more about it.)

She was so wrapped up in how comfortable and content she was both mentally and physically, that it took her awhile to identify the rumble coming from the body draped over her.

“Are you PURRING?” she asked, nudging the source of the rumble.

“Mmmm, hmmmm,” he murmured, never taking his lips off the soft skin of her neck.

“Uh, since when do vampires purr? And why?” Rather than the demanding tone she would have normally taken with him, her questions came out as idle requests to accompany the small circles her fingers were tracing on his arm.

“Happy,” he mumbled between licks.

Buffy felt like she should be seriously wigged by the whole situation, but the calming licks made it impossible to feel anything except safe and content. She shrugged lightly and wriggled closer to his body.

“Oh. ‘K, then.” As she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off to sleep, she murmured softly, “Me too.”





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