Chapter 9. Romanticism (Part Three)
A deep moan erupted from his throat when she placed her lips to his. He hesitated for only a second before taking control of the kiss, grabbing her around the waist and crushing her body to his.
He concentrated on her lower lip first, the same one that had driven him out of his mind so many times, nipping at it lightly before running the tip of his tongue over it. Taking advantage of her small sigh, he gained entry inside the moist cavern of her luscious mouth to feast on her sweetness.
She was barely able to draw in a ragged breath before his tongue slipped between her lips, taking full possession of her mouth. It seemed as if he wanted to devour her as the nimble organ danced over her teeth, the inside of her cheeks then finally tangled with hers. Her hands slid over his strong arms to wind around his neck, threading her fingers in his soft locks as she completely lost herself to the moment, submitting to the mastery of his kisses and the wonderful sensations coursing through her body.
His hand skimmed over her breast on its way to tangle in her glorious mane, delighting in the silkiness before tugging on it lightly, angling her face so he could savor her like a fine wine. Her flavor enticed him, inflamed his senses and set his blood ablaze.
God, she’d dreamt of this ever since their eyes met from across the room at the Royal Academy and now she realized her dreams couldn’t even remotely compare to the reality of being in his arms, of being kissed by him. He tasted of power, of strength, of something uniquely... him, instantly transforming her into an addict from the moment their lips met. He was everywhere, surrounding her, embracing her, holding her, seeping through her skin until there was nothing left but him.
He was intoxicated by her, drowning, falling, the control he prided himself on shattering as his fingers slid up and down her back, feeling every delicious stroke of her tongue against his all the way down to his shaft.
She felt so bloody good in his arms, her supple body molding perfectly against his. It’d been so long since he felt anything like this, if ever. He felt as if his heart were about to begin beating in unison with hers. His hands settled on her hips momentarily before sliding downward to cup her gorgeous bottom, fondling her as he pulled her impossibly closer to his aching groin.
She felt slightly lightheaded and more than a little dizzy, but she attributed it to the desire this man instilled in her. She was on fire; her panties uncomfortably wet against her swollen sex, making her crave his touch, him. She couldn’t stop herself from lowering her hands to his waist for leverage as she ground against the erection pressing into her stomach.
In response to her actions, he tightened his grip to her buttocks, growling as the heady scent of her arousal filled the air and his control slipped even further. Christ, but she was scorching him, searing his insides with her warmth, unraveling his will completely. He was sure she would render him dust if he took her now, but to be buried deep within her heat, to feel her from the inside... what a sweet death that would be.
Her heart thundered in her chest, her blood roaring with lust through her veins in response to his low, dominating growl. He sent every part of her body ablaze, even her lungs as the lack of oxygen began to become an issue. But who needed to breathe any way? she rationalized. Breathing was SO overrated, especially when doing so would stop this wondrous kiss.
He was in heaven, or as close to it he would ever be allowed. Having her like this, responding so passionately to his kiss, to his caress, he could almost fool himself into thinking he could keep her with him forever. Into thinking nothing else mattered but this, them.
She suddenly sagged against him, her legs having given way beneath her, pulling him away from the haven of her mouth. Only his preternatural reflexes prevented her from falling to the floor as she fainted. It was then he noticed her struggle to breathe, her chest heaving as it fought to fill her lungs with much needed air, even if she was still unconscious.
Calling himself all kinds of a fool for forgetting her body’s need to breathe, he carried her to the sofa with the utmost care, laid her down, hovered over her, listening to her heartbeat and watching for any sign of distress, uncertain if he should call Anne or Giles or both to help him. He was about to do so when her lashes fluttered as she gradually regained consciousness.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, not sure what had happened to her at first, not until they settled on the deep concern tingeing the blue depths that stared back at her and then she remembered being submerged in pure bliss right before it turned into black obscurity. Damned need for oxygen, she sighed, miffed that her body gave out on her and a little curious why, if she’d been so affected, he hadn’t been. But she promptly forgot about that when he kneeled by her side, took her hands in his to pepper them with kisses.
“You worried me. You’re alright, aren’t you, love?”
“Wow, that was some kiss,” she said, not even listening his question, her eyes still glazed as she looked at him in awe. Never had a kiss had such a colossal impact on her. Then again, she’d never been kissed by anyone quite like him. Not that she wanted to compare anyone with Spike.
“Guess we shouldn’t do that again unless you’re sittin’ or layin’ down, should we?” he smirked, a teasing gleam in his eyes replacing the concern that had been there seconds ago. Buffy fainting because he kissed her was quite a novel concept to him and although that might have more to do with lack of air than his expertise in that particular arena, it still made him fairly proud of himself to witness her reaction afterwards.
“We shouldn’t try what?”
“Kissin’, it seems to have some very interestin’… effects on you.” He purred, making her blush fiercely.
“That… that was just…” she began, wracking her brain for some plausible excuse.
“My sinister attraction?”
Yeah, that sounded about right, but his ego was healthy enough as it was. She was about to answer him when she saw the huge grin cracking his face and realized he was messing with her. “You’re evil!” she pouted.
If she only knew. “Oh pouty, look at that lip. Gonna get it, gonna… get it,” he said, his eyes darkening as they lustfully zeroed in on the protruding flesh, leaning forward to do exactly that. He worried it between his teeth, tenderly nipping at it, his tongue gliding over it before hers came out to join his.
He didn’t allow himself to be swayed by passion this time; instead he focused each and every one of his enhanced senses on her, being careful to pay attention to her need to breathe.
This kiss was gentler, softer, its intention to basically reassure them both where they stood regarding the other. Nothing more, nothing less.
He rose from the floor and helped her to sit before joining her then pulled her onto his lap. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her fingers lacing through his, both of them rejoicing in this newfound sense of intimacy, of being so close to the other without the need to fill the silence with nonsensical words as they connected on a deeper level.
She didn’t know how long they stayed there like that nor did she care. It felt… right, being here with him, in his house, in his studio, sharing this… whatever it was growing between them. But even the word 'right' didn't seem the correct way to describe it. More like... meant to be.
He relished this moment she gave him, delighted in the way she molded against him, in the soft kisses they’d traded; committed it all to memory, imagining how things could be were he anything else other than what he was.
She wanted to know more about him, needed to. He’d shared part of himself with her already but she felt the need to know more, to know it all.
“It must have been lovely to grow up in a house like this, isn’t it?” she asked.
He was taken by surprise at her question, they’d been silent for a while and he hadn’t expected it, but answered nonetheless, “Yes, it was.”
“I imagine a house like this must have lots of secrets, doesn’t it?”
Oh, more than you can ever imagine, love. He chuckled. “Some.” An idea as to how they might continue with the tour of his house suddenly formed in his mind. “How would you like to learn some of them?”
She turned in his lap, looking at him with wide, excited eyes. “Really?”
“Really, matter of fact…” He glanced towards a clock hanging on the wall, seeing they still had about an hour left before dusk to do some exploring. “…we could go now if milady wishes.”
“Well, how could I possibly say no to that, my lord?” She rose from the sofa and pulled him with her, her whole being bubbling with barely contained excitement at what she was sure would turn out to be a wonderful adventure. “Let’s go, I simply love learning secrets.”
She is so bloody adorable, he thought, smiling indulgently at her bouncy enthusiasm while he led her to the farthest wall in the room. “Now, pull that lamp in front of you a little to the right, won’t you, darlin’?”
She looked at him questioningly but did as he asked, her eyes widening in wonder when the wall swung inward, revealing it to be a door. Where did it lead? She was about to go in and find out when he stopped her.
“I think it might be best if I go in first,” he explained. “It’s been a while since anyone’s been inside and who knows what sort of nasties you’ll find in there.”
“Nasties?” she gulped. “Like what?”
“Cobwebs and such. Don’t worry; I’ll protect you if we find a big bad spider along the way,” he teased when he noticed her hesitance.
“Ha! We’ll see if I won’t be the one that ends up protecting you, Mr. Wellington,” she winked.
He laughed heartily. “Feisty li'l thing, aren't we? I like that in a woman,” he whispered seductively in her ear, enjoying the way her heart rate increased. Picking a fuel lamp up from the floor, he turned it on and extending his free hand to grab hers then added, “Now, follow me, sweet Buffy.”
To the ends of the earth, she thought before stepping into the dark tunnel after him.
“These tunnels must be quite old, aren’t they?” she asked, unconsciously moving closer to him as she watched him swipe some rather big and creepy cobwebs out of their way with the lamp. “Turn of the century, perhaps?”
“Think farther back, love,” he chuckled. “They were built ‘round the time of the religious persecution here in England, in the sixteenth Century.”
“Really? Wow. And the house? Was it built then, as well?”
“Yes, they were built at the same time. The manor’s undergone some renovations throughout the years, of course, to keep up with the times, but the tunnels have remained virtually untouched since their construction. And to my knowledge, very few know of their existence.”
“Can you get anywhere in the house through them?”
“Almost anywhere, most of the main rooms have an entrance to the tunnels which end at the stables. And there are even a few rooms that have two sets of tunnels; one that leads to this passage and another that only connects through them.”
“Interesting. And why is that?”
“I imagine they might have been used so the lord of the manor could visit his mistress at night without being seen by the servants.”
“You don’t say. And have you ever used those tunnels for that purpose?”
“Not yet.” He smiled, flattered at the jealousy that laced her tone.
“Yet?”
She must have blinked, zoned out in the darkness surrounding her, how else could she explain how fast he’d moved? One second he was in front of her, lighting the way and holding her hand and the next he was behind her, moving her hair out of the way before leaning in to purr beside her ear, “Yes, if you were to… say, spend the night, I’d be hard-pressed not to use them with that intention.”
“Is that an invitation, Mr. Wellington?” she responded coyly, a shiver running down her spine in response to his nearness.
“You don't need one, love. Mi casa es su casa.”
“Be careful with what you say you could end up regretting it,” she said half-jokingly.
“Regret what? Havin’ you here in my house, makin’ it seem brighter with the light of your loveliness? I don’t think I could ever regret that, darlin’.” If anything I’ll probably regret not being able to keep you here with me forever, he added for himself.
Was the man determined to make her faint again? Her knees felt more than a little wobbly after that declaration and she was suddenly very happy he was behind her to support her weight.
“Alright, but when I take you up on your offer and then decide I don’t want to leave, don’t come crying I didn’t warn you.”
“Who says I'd want you to leave?” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, embracing her from behind while thinking how far off she was. If anything he should be the one warning her that he might feel inclined to keep her here with him and never let her leave, although to be fair, he just did, didn’t he?
“Now, how about we make our way to the kitchen? Join Anne for supper? Or perhaps, you’d like to dine in the same room we did before?”
“Oh, I’d love to join her in the kitchen. If that’s alright with you?”
“’Course it is.” He smiled, taking her hand in his and pulling her towards the next exit. “Would you mind staying with her for a few minutes? I have to prepare a little something for later.”
“More surprises?”
“Perhaps.”
“Good, I like surprises. I don’t mind staying with her. Maybe I can persuade her to let me help with something in the meantime.”
“You do that,” he said, pulling the chain that made the hidden door open and allowing her to precede him out of the tunnel. “It won't be too difficult to convince her, she already likes you. It seems you’ve managed to conquer us all.”
Buffy stumbled over her feet when she turned to face him after hearing his last words.
“Easy, love, we don’t want you falling, do we?” he said as he steadied her by placing a hand under her elbow.
Too late for that, at least for the type of falling she kept doing whenever she was with him, especially when losing herself in his bluer than blue eyes. She shook her head, more to clear it than to answer him before stepping out of the tunnel.
Buffy was temporarily blinded by the bright lamps illuminating the room they found themselves in, blinking until her eyes adjusted to the light after their impromptu exploration. Once they did, she noticed they were in a hallway and not a room like she’d thought at first. It was similar to the ones they’d used earlier when they walked about the house. The only difference was that there weren’t nearly as much artwork hanging on the walls in this area. The few that were, though, were as wonderful as the rest had been. He had quite a collection and she hoped they’d have time to see it all.
Spike took her hand in his again and led her to where she imagined was the kitchen. They passed a large mirror on their way and she couldn’t stop herself from glimpsing into it to see how they looked together, almost stopping in her tracks when she didn’t see him at all.
She shook her head slightly; sure she was seeing things. That had to be it, her eyes were still adjusting and that’s why she’d seen, or rather not seen his reflection. It wasn’t possible for him not to have appeared in the mirror, so she passed it off as her eyes playing tricks on her.
Unaware of what was going through her head, he led her into the kitchen where they found Anne taking a freshly baked loaf of bread out from the oven.
“Good evening, Master William, Buffy.” She smiled and curtsied, observing them with interest, obviously intrigued when she noticed them holding hands and seeming more comfortable around the other than they were earlier. “Would you like me to serve supper already? I’ll have everything ready in a few—”
“There’s no hurry, Anne, there’s something I need to take care of first,” William said, raising a hand to stop her.
“William and I thought we could eat here in the kitchen with you and Mr. Giles; if that’s alright with you?” Buffy asked with a shy smile.
“Of course, we’d be honored to have you dine with us,” the housekeeper replied, trying to hide her surprise at the request. Although William occasionally joined them for dinner, she hadn’t expected today would be one of those days.
“Anne, do you know where Giles might be? I need to speak to him.”
“He said he was going to be in the stables, Master William. Do you need me to fetch him for you?”
“No, there’s no need. I’ll find him myself. Would you mind entertaining our guest for a few minutes while I do?”
“But of course, I’ll be very happy to have her company,” she smiled at the girl who returned the gesture.
“Thank you, Anne. I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me, love,” he added, kissing Buffy on the cheek then leaving the room.
Buffy had a dreamy smile on her face which changed into a furious blush when she noticed the housekeeper’s attention set upon her. “I… uhmm, errr… do you need help with anything?” she rushed to ask, trying to shift the woman’s interest from herself. “Or perhaps I can…” She turned towards the table at her right, very relieved when she noticed it still wasn’t set. “Set the table?”
The older woman chuckled, deciding to let the girl off the hook… for now. There’d be enough time to talk with her about this new development when she came for her cooking class. “Alright, you can help me with that. Come, I’ll show you where the plates are.”
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
“What do you mean he grabbed her?!” Spike exploded, his eyes flashing from amber to stormy blue and back again as he tried to rein in his temper. “And you didn’t intervene?”
His reaction made Giles dread telling him the rest of the tale. It wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter, though. Anne was right, as always. Master William needed to know Miss Buffy could be in trouble so he could take the adequate measures to protect her.
“I was about to, Master William, but it turned out Miss Buffy didn’t need my assistance. She defended herself quite well especially considering the size of the man… well, groping her.” He chuckled remembering how well the girl had taken care of the pillock, only to sober immediately when he heard the possessive growl that tore from his Lord’s throat.
“Who was he? Who dared touch Buffy? Tell me… NOW!” he roared, his demon face coming forth in temporary rage.
“I-I’m not certain, Sir. Although I-I think she said his name w-was Riley,” he stuttered, a frisson of fear running through him at being confronted with the irate Master Vampire.
Riley. Was that the man that escorted her to the exhibit? It didn’t matter. Whoever he was, he would find him. Any man with nerve enough to touch HIS woman, force their presence upon her would pay... dearly. No one messed with what was his, no one. He’d do anything, absolutely anything, to protect her. To hell with atoning for his past sins. He'd commit a thousand more in her name. Nothing mattered to him more than her, HIS Buffy.
“There-there’s something else, Master.” Giles swallowed hard at the angry glare directed at him, before continuing, “The man, after… when Miss Buffy walked away from him, I-I noticed the way he was looking at her and I-I warned her. Sh-she thinks he won’t approach her, but I’m afraid he might be the kind of man that doesn’t take no for an answer, especially considering the way she, well, handled matters.”
Spike clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to control himself, his demon. He couldn’t very well enter the kitchen in the state he was in, but he couldn’t stay away either. He needed to see her, reassure himself she was alright. Feel her, touch her, kiss her. She was his, dammit! HIS. No one else’s.
Without sparing a glance to Giles, he ran out of the stable towards the house, intent on one thing alone. Finding Buffy.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Buffy leaned on the kitchen’s isle near the entrance, laughing at the latest story Anne shared with her. She reminded her so much of her mother and all the lovely times they’d spent together at her house in Sunnydale. She hadn’t realized she missed having this sort of… camaraderie, until now. And she had Spike to thank that for.
“Alright, dinner is almost ready, just the final touch and voilá,” Anne said, opening the refrigerator and rummaging inside as she looked for the last ingredient. “Buffy, would you be a dear and remove the sauce from the stove?”
She was about to do just that when an unseen force grabbed her arm, yanking her through the swinging door with such astonishing speed she didn’t have time to blink let alone scream.
“Buffy?” the older woman asked. Turning back to where she’d last seen her standing, only the door to the kitchen greeted her, swinging on its creaking hinges. Where did she go? she thought.
tbc
Still with me? I'd love to know if you are and what you thought of the chapter if you're inclined to let me know. *bats eyelashes*