Author's Chapter Notes:
I have beaten my muse into submission with promises of chocolate and reviews... please don't let me down on the reviews as she is offeringg a new chapter of Dark sail if I'm good
Spike was feeling put upon, very put upon: since when did preternatural strength equal him being used as a beast of burden? Spike tried to juggle the two trunks he was hauling down the stairs to the trolley they were to use. And how could three women manage to buy so much in just two weeks and in a time period not their own? He had tried to persuade Buffy and Morgana to help him manage all the cases back through the portal, but they had laughed at him and then just brought down another trunk. Him, William the Bloody, slayer of Slayers, reduced to being a sodding porter. And being laughed at by those bints. Then he had to grin. Dawn and Buffy had had a brilliant time shopping and they had cost The Council a fortune. Morgan had just smiled as the bills came in from the tradesmen, but Travers and Giles were livid. They had ranted and raved for hours about the amount the women were spending, but to little avail; Morgan just signed the bills and ordered them paid. Travers and Giles watched the little party gathering together from the safety of the library, having polished off a decanter of brandy before noon.

‘How dare this upstart spend all the Council’s money on frippery!’ There was undisguised venom in Travers’ voice.

‘We have to do something about her,’ Giles replied as the two men watched Buffy and Spike vanish through the portal, ‘and we have a hundred years to plan it.’


Cordy watched as Buffy and Spike made their way to their sitting room that evening. Martin and Dawn had vanished off into the night to go dancing to celebrate their engagement and she had waited quietly in the shadows until the house had fallen still. She knew she was supposed to talk to them, but watching the way that Buffy and Spike were wrapped around each other, lost in each other’s eyes, she thought it could wait for another night. She had to see Andrew anyway, and Anne and Joyce would spoil the baby rotten if they stayed with the darling much longer. She had to relieve them at some point, and it would soon be time for the little mite to leave them all for a while. Then there was all the work that needed doing to get the new place ready. An angel’s life was not a simple one, but she loved managing everyone, especially now that she had her wardrobe. She gave herself a little wiggle as the chiffon floated around her. She didn’t really ‘do’ chiffon but Christian Dior had made a real angel dress for her, and he’d been right, she could carry chiffon. Cordy smiled as she felt another wave of love emanate from the pair below her. She would talk to them tomorrow.

Spike felt the happiness flow off his mate as they walked into the room. The silk of her dress was making the most wonderful sound as it swished through the doorway. It brought back memories of his mother and his old life. In fact the whole visit had made him rethink his early years. Everything was now set up as well, and by the end of the week his girls and his godson would be rich. £500 properly invested in 1882 amounted to over a million dollars now; William Riley Finn was a very wealthy little boy. He just hoped that Captain Whitbread would accept the gift: it was for the lad’s college fund after all. The rest of the Pratt fortune had been squirrelled away for his own use and as soon as he went to Temple Bar he would have access to millions. Technically he would be among the richest men in the world, if the girls didn’t manage to spend it all. The Summers’ women could be a natural disaster to any man’s account. At a growl from Buffy he turned his attention back to where it should be, his beloved mate.

Spike started purring without even realising it, he was so happy, and Buffy nuzzling and nipping at his neck was creating wonderful reactions in his body. He led her gently further into the sitting room and towards the fire. He had lit the fire before they had eaten, and the embers were giving the old panelled walls a rich warm glow, enhanced by the candles and soft lighting. He had pulled the thick velvet curtains shut against the rainy night, leaving the two of them cocooned in a world of gold, red and wood.

Buffy hadn’t changed out of her Victorian clothing all day, it made her feel so feminine, womanly, and she was revelling in the effect it had on her Victorian husband. She knew he could feel the corset under the dress, hard against the softness. He kept stroking her ribs and waist. It was making him even more horny, if that were possible. Spike seemed to live in a permanent state of arousal since he had first met Buffy all those years ago, and it hadn’t eased since the mating. He only had to sense her, or scent her and he was rock solid enough to hammer in nails. And she knew it, and played on it, like now. All that nuzzling at him: she knew that a vampire’s neck was a sensitive spot. Now the bint was being particularly cruel, she was sucking hard on the mating marks. His demon had had enough, he was having her here and now and nothing and no-one was going to stop him. He manoeuvred her over to the sofa and guided her down onto the leather seat. Putting a cushion behind her head to ensure her comfort his lips locked on hers, his tongue almost begging for entrance to her mouth, caressing hers, exploring the inside of her mouth.

Buffy felt rather than saw the bones in her lover’s face change: she could taste the muskiness of pure male on the air as the demon came forth and it made her even more hungry for him, she wanted to drown in his presence, his smell, his sheer maleness. The claws tracing up her thigh and gently stroking the fine curls at the apex of her legs made her whimper in need. Buffy shifted slightly on his lap, allowing her legs to fall open and for him to have access to her most secret place. She watched as he lay alongside of her, the over-wide sofa easily accommodating the two slim blonds. He had shrugged himself out of his formal jacket, leaving only his waistcoat and cravat over the thin cotton shirt: every inch the gentleman, every inch the cad.

Spike stroked and rubbed the outer lips of her pussy, feeling the moisture pooling on his finger. He slipped the digit into that tight, tight hole. It had been less than a day since he had been inside her, but she was virgin-tight again, her body always swiftly recovering from his intrusion. He could feel the erection he was sporting pressing hard against the buttons on his Victorian dress trousers. The woollen fabric added to the sensations coursing through him: he wanted nothing more than to be balls deep in his beloved Buffy. He could feel the slayer part of her buried deeply within her: he was facing a pure human. The demon broke off from the kiss and rubbed his face against her cheek, it felt soft and vulnerable to him. He scented her neck and face, aroused even more by the mixing of their fragrancies. He followed the line of her jaw finding and nibbling at the mating mark, smiling at the mewing noises she was making. His fingers could feel the flood of moisture as he made her body sing.

Spike pushed her further back into the sofa, and moved down her body. He started kissing her legs, starting at the ankle, his fingers skilfully undoing the tiny buttons that held her boots on. He could feel the silk on her legs and he tried not to snag it on his rough skin; his talons led the way up her legs, leaving red lines where they had barely scratched the flesh. He traced their path with kisses and nips, very careful not to allow his fangs to rip the delicate material. His shaft pushed against the fabric so much he wondered if it would take the strain.

He reached the garter and watched his own fingers shaking as they undid the bow, laid the pale lemon ribbon aside and rolled down the silk stocking, licking the skin as it appeared.

Buffy watched as one of the most vicious demons that lived treasured her stocking and laid it aside as though it were a sacrament. His tongue was doing wonderful things to her skin, setting a fire in her belly and releasing another flood of moisture from her core. He seemed to be pandering to her every need. He had rolled down the second stocking and kissed her behind her knee; her hips raised themselves off the sofa and she thought she would break from the shivers and shocks that shot through her whole body. Spike grinned at her reaction, but continued his ministrations. His sharp and deadly claws were still stroking her womanhood; she was sopping wet in sweet anticipation of his next move. Buffy felt she couldn’t wait any longer and reached down between her legs and wove her fingers into his slicked-back hair; she tugged his head up her body, gasping as a talon caught the inside of her thigh and caused it to bleed.

Spike smelt the blood, he slipped back down her body and tenderly licked the wound he had inadvertently caused before returning his attentions to her lips and tongue. He gave her a deep and lingering kiss, his tongue begging for entrance into her mouth. The one she’d been begging for, he smiled slightly; she always was the begging kind.

When she released his hair, Buffy reached down her hand and started to undo the buttons confining him within his trousers. Her impatience got the better of her and she ripped the fly, sending the buttons shooting everywhere. She wrapped her hand as far around his magnificent cock as she could and started stroking up and down; her thumb found the seeping tip and she massaged the large, bulbous head with his precum. Ten wonderful inches of malehood filled her hand and more. She could not reach around its girth when he was human; she had no chance when he was in full vampire mode. She squeezed harder, eliciting a moan from her mate as he revelled in her touch.

Spike could feel himself getting closer and closer to spilling his load and desperately held off. He wanted - no needed - to be deep inside her tonight and he could feel her need to be filled as well.

‘Let go a minute pet, or I’ll embarrass myself and shoot off like some sodding schoolboy.’ He said it with clenched teeth, his fangs making his words less clear.

Buffy looked up into the golden eyes and completely surrendered herself to the demon. He could do what he liked. She loved and trusted him so much. She lifted her hands above her head, exposing her whole body to his ministrations. Her hands found the wooden rail on the small table that stood behind the sofa, and she wrapped her fingers around it, closing her eyes and giving him tacit permission to do what he would.

Buffy looked so vulnerable and sexy. Her eyes hooded with lust and almost unfocused in their gaze before she closed them. She looked like a sexy kitten that had had too much cream, her voluminous Victorian dress pulled up to her waist showing the bottom of her corset and her dripping wet pussy.

He couldn’t wait any longer. His member was bulbous and purple and large, the veins and ridges making it a weapon of torture unless he was very careful. He put the head against her hole and pushed gently. The feel of her hot wet pussy had him grinding his teeth together to keep from shooting off straight away. He inched himself forward slowly watching her face carefully for any signs of her discomfort. But there were none. She was whimpering and moaning, lifting her hips, trying to urge him in deeper, filling her completely. Buffy felt that wonderful moment when he was fully imbedded within her welcoming body, the tip of his cock hitting her womb, sending pulses of pain through her body, delightful pain that enhanced every movement and sent ripples of pleasure racing through her whole body, making her blood sing, adding to the slayer tingles that she always had when a vampire was close. She could feel the orgasm building, it seemed to make her so sensitive to every texture and feeling around her: the leather of the sofa, the silk of her dress, the wool of William’s trousers and the throbbing of his cock deep inside her. Every thrust was pushing her higher and higher until she felt she couldn’t breathe. She struggled for air as Spike added to the maelstrom by sinking his fangs into her neck.

‘Yours,’ he growled, his yellow eyes shining with the passion both the demon and William were feeling for this amazing woman.

Buffy could take no more and saw stars before passing out from the passionate fire he had lit in her. The clenching of her inner sheath around his already engorged cock made Spike follow her over the edge into ecstasy. He could feel his body pumping into her for what seemed like forever as he slipped out of game face and into his human visage. He pulled a rug over the pair of them and wrapped his arms around his beloved mate.

Dawn found them there in the morning, the sunshine finding a chink in the curtains and falling on Spike’s face, the Gem of Amara safely on the nearby table catching and throwing back the rays as well.





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