Buffy struggled to catch her breath as Spike slowly lowered her trembling body so that she was able to stand on her own. Wobbling slightly to the right, she glanced down and realized that at some point during their heated tryst she had lost a shoe and was now seriously unbalanced. Leaning against the wall for much needed support, she lifted a shaky hand to the fresh wound on her neck, still dribbling ever so slightly with warm blood, and asked, “Am I like you now?”
Spike had barely gotten his belt buckle back in place when he was thrown for a loop. Whipping his head upwards, he glared at her with a puzzled expression and exclaimed, “‘f course not! What gave you that impression?”
“I…uh, I mean, that’s what happens in the movies, right?” she replied timidly, feeling a little more than stupid at the moment with her clothes in disarray and wobbling on one black spiked heel. “I’m not dead, so I just assumed…”
“Well, you assumed wrong, pet,” Spike retorted sharply. His mind wandered back to their coupling, when his fangs and cock had been buried in her delectable warm body and he remembered the brief flash of possession that had washed over his body, the faint moment that he’d actually thought about taking her life and keeping her with him for an eternity. Of course he’d quickly brushed the whole notion aside, securing it tightly in the darkest corner of his mind where he’d hidden all of his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled. It was crazy to think two people could spend a lifetime together, much less an eternity, right? “Consider yourself lucky.”
Lucky? No, that was certainly one thing she did not consider herself. If anything, Buffy Anne Summers was the complete and total opposite of lucky, had been since day one and there didn’t seem to be any reprieve any time soon. “Yeah, right!” she scoffed as she started checking the surrounding area for her other shoe. Anger seethed just below the surface and the telltale prick of tears stung her eyes as her hopes were quickly dashed. Not wanting Spike to see the tears that were now spilling over her lashes, Buffy bent over to retrieve the wayward shoe and slid it on.
“What’s your bloody problem, woman?” Spike bellowed, unable to take the silent treatment any longer. He could sense her anger, feel it rolling off her body in furious waves, silently lashing out against him even though she refused to act on the emotion that was obviously eating away at her. “D’you want to be dead? I deliberately kept you alive, saved your sodding life and you’re upset with me for it?” Flicking the lighter angrily, he lit a cigarette and inhaled sharply before continuing his rant. “What is it with women never fucking being happy with what they’re given?!”
“Happy! I don’t know what that even is!” Buffy cried, turning on him like a madwoman, her breath coming out in small pants as she unleashed the frustration and sorrow that she had successfully kept at bay for weeks…until now. “I needed you! I’ve searched for weeks to find you, tracked body after fucking body until I narrowed it down to the bar you’d be at tonight.” Sobbing, she gulped large mouthfuls of cool night air and wiped furiously at the hot tears streaking her cheeks. “I knew what I was looking for, just didn’t know the who part, until tonight. Until I walked past you and felt like a bug under a microscope, like an innocent deer about to get noshed on by a bloodthirsty cougar, and I knew…I knew it was you that could help me…be the answer to my prayers.”
“Could you be a little clearer, pet?” Spike asked sarcastically around the butt of the half smoked cigarette. “I might posses some supernatural abilities, but deciphering a hysterical woman isn’t one of them.”
“I needed you to make me like you! Why else would someone blatantly search for a vampire?” Buffy shrieked, her voice cracking under the sheer force of her emotions. “Why didn’t you? I thought that’s what you people did!”
“Not bloody likely, at least from my standpoint. Don’t need some fledgling following me ‘round like a sodding lost puppy for all of eternity.” He tossed his cigarette to the ground and watched the orange flamed tip fizzle out as it rolled into a nearby puddle left over from last night’s rain. “What, you got a death wish or something, kitten?”
“No! Actually, I have a rather large case of Non-death wishing going on at the moment.” Buffy replied, her voice somber as she spilled her dark secret. “I…I found out that I’m dying and I’m not ready, so I thought that maybe…”
“That maybe you could indulge in a bit of gothic lore and find yourself a creature of the proverbial night to rescue you from death, is that it?” Spike snorted as he closed the gap between them; backing the troubled young woman into the wall he’d just fucked her against only moments ago. “Hate to bust your bubble, but we’re all dying.”
“Y…you’re not,” she pointed out nervously as he leaned in closer, his face only a breath away. Her heart beat wildly against her chest, like a wild thing trying to escape the depressing confines of its solitary cage, as his predatory eyes came in to view; the passion and lust that filled them earlier no longer present, now they only glowed with a fierce combination of animalistic rage and demonic hunger.
“No, I’m already dead,” he lashed out, pinning her between his arms, his palms face down against the cold, moist brick wall. Spike leaned in closer, his lips brushed against the smooth column of her neck, fluttered across the erratic beating of her pulse just below the golden skin, his nostrils flaring as his demon reveled in the heavenly scent of her fear and just the slightest hint of honey coated desire seeping in along the edges. Tracing the faint blue line of her throbbing vein upwards to nibble along the outer shell of her ear, murmuring against the soft curves, “M’ heart no longer beats, m’ lungs no longer fill with the cool night air, m’ skin is as cold as marble and m’ blood no longer belongs to me, but is borrowed night after night from the lovely ladies that fall prey to m’ deadly kiss.
“I haven’t seen the sun in over a century, haven’t felt the warmth of its rays on m’ skin, seen its beauty blazing in the sky, giving humans the life they need. I’ve outlived m’ family, watched them live their lives, grow up and fall in love, bear children and lastly, wither and die as I stood in the shadows and silently grieved for their pain, and envied their lives,” he paused long enough to let the weight of his words penetrate her mind, darting his tongue out to tease the silken nub of her earlobe until her body trembled in the confines of his arms. “Why would you want that for yourself, luv?”
Forcing her eyes to meet his steel blue gaze, she bravely responded, “It’s the only hope I have left. I’ve got a brain tumor…the doctors give me maybe eight weeks to live without surgery.” Sniffling, she ducked beneath his arms and walked a couple of steps, trying to gather her wits and refrain from crying again. She was tired of tears. Crying had been about the only thing she’d been able to do as of late. Most of her days were spent lying in the bathroom, sick to her stomach from the monstrous migraine brought on by the cancerous mass eating away at her brain. She would lie in the fetal position and seek solace from the cold floor, a pretty mosaic tile in a rainbow of blues she’d painstakingly handcrafted the summer before, when she’d had to busy herself after her fiancé left her at the altar.
“Isn’t there an operation?” Spike inquired, suddenly feeling like a right bastard for ever approaching her in the bar, for screwing her like a wild animal against the wall of a dirty alleyway, for feeding on the blood that kept her alive even for the short amount of time she had left. “Surely there’s something that can be done, yeah?”
“There’s nothing,” she replied bitterly. “I don’t have insurance, nor do I have the time to wait around for some kind doctor to fix me voluntarily. Even if I went through with the surgery, there’d still be like a seventy percent chance that I’d still croak; either on the table or sometime later.” Buffy let the tears slip over her lashes once again; no longer able to keep them welled up in her eyes. Seeking comfort, she wrapped her arms around herself and whispered, “I’m not ready to die. I’m not ready to not be here.”
Something came over Spike, a spark of compassion he’d long thought dead, a rush of sympathy so intense that it had him stalking across the alleyway to gather the weeping slip of frightened woman into his arms. He whispered words of comfort, attempted to lift the heavy weight on her heart, and placed feather light kisses across the downy hair along the crown of her head as she sobbed wholeheartedly in his arms.
Spike felt useless, but not hopeless. He knew what she wanted, knew how to ease the pain on her heart, the sickness that was eating away at her from the inside out. Pulling away from her slightly, he wiped his thumb across one cheek, brushing away the tears that stained the flawless skin and looked deep into her liquid green eyes. “You’re sure about this?”
Hope ignited in her heart at his words, at the look of resignation that filled the inhumanly beautiful features of his face. Nodding, she choked on the remaining tears and produced a watery smile. “I’ve never been surer.”
“Family? Friends? Anyone that might come looking for you?” he asked cautiously, feeling immensely stupid for even asking such an absurd question. Of course a woman as beautiful and intriguing as she would have some bloke waiting at home for her, masses of friends waiting to see her smiling face, a doting set of parents joyfully nagging her to get married and produce fat little grandchildren for them.
“Nope, nobody,” she announced, a pained expression crossing her face at the thought. “My mom died seven years ago when I was eighteen, no siblings, and I haven’t spoken to my dad in like fifteen years since he left us. Big fat no on the romantic aspect, my fiancé, Riley, left me at the altar last year. And, my best friends still live back on the east coast. They’ll miss me, but…I don’t see them going overboard trying to hunt me down; we sorta lost contact several years ago when I followed Riley over here.” Looking up into his concerned eyes, she asked, “So, you’re gonna…do it?”
“Can’t believe it, but yes, if it’s what you want.” He failed to mention that he’d been toying with the idea for years, of finding one person to haunt the nights with, to make eternity a less lonely journey. That he had seriously entertained the notion when he’d been buried intimately inside her sweet lil’ quim and sucking the spicy blood from the buttery soft skin of her neck. Just thinking about their heated coupling had his nether regions hardening again; filling with the blood he had borrowed from her body, pulsating with the desire to fuck her.
Instead, he dropped his arms and stepped away, freeing her from his hold, silently giving her one last chance to run screaming away from the fate he was about to deal her. When she blinked at him innocently, and stood fixed to the spot refusing to leave in fear, Spike held out his hand chivalrously towards her and said, “M’lady.”
“Where are we going?” Buffy asked, slipping her warm hand inside the cool flesh of his and allowing him to escort her out of the alleyway.
“Thought I’d take you back to my place, kitten,” he informed her, leading her around the corner into a darkened alcove that held a rickety set of iron stairs at the end. Motioning her to go ahead of him, Spike dug in his pocket for a set of keys and said with a grim tone, “What you’re about to go through is rough enough without doing it in a dingy alley.” Reaching the top of the stairs, he stepped around her petite frame and unlocked the door; sweeping his arm across his body, he said, “After you, luv.”
Once inside, Buffy blinked several times to adjust to the sudden lights as they flickered on overhead to reveal a posh living area/kitchen combo. What exactly does a vampire need a kitchen for, she wondered as she inspected his living quarters. Wood floors gleamed under the sparkling lights, shaggy black and red rugs were scattered across the span of the room for a cozier look, accompanied by several cushy black leather sofas and one recliner draped in suede the color of dried blood. Instead of regulation tables, an antique trunk served as a coffee table, along with two blocks of roughly cut marble in place of end tables; candles littered the tops and she had yet to notice a table lamp.
The kitchen had even less flair to it; no table, instead there were four barstools lined against a gleaming steel covered bar and the appliances still shone with that “straight from the showroom floor” type of newness. “Nice place you got, been here long?”
“Couple of months,” Spike replied, leaving out exactly how he came about the acquiring the loft, or anything inside of it. Buffy might be prepared for the transition stage of becoming a vampire, but he wasn’t quite sure she was ready to hear all the gruesome things associated with living as one. “Figured the bedroom would be the most comfortable place, yeah”?
“Sure.” She squeaked, blushing furiously at her nervousness. Seeing Spike smile softly at her awkward behavior, she smiled back and took his offered hand; letting a wave of ease wash over her as he led her towards the back of the loft where the lone bedroom was placed.
Stepping over the threshold, her spiked heels sank deeply into the thick fibers of the plush heather gray carpet and she flicked them off in favor of padding around the dimly lit bedroom barefooted. Surveying the room she would soon die in, Buffy slowly walked around checking out every minute detail, sliding her hands lightly across the velvety smooth crimson bedspread and inhaling the aroma that was inherently Spike; smoke and musk, with faint underlying scents of leather. Turning to him, where he stood framed in by the dark wood of the doorframe, she ran her hand across the silken pillowcases and asked, “Is this where…I mean, is it a sex thing?”
“Can be if you want, luv…doesn’t have to be, of course.” Spike replied, desperately trying to contain the chuckle that had bubbled up at her innocence. Hell, he’d had her screaming his name while he fucked her roughly not an hour before and all of the sudden she was too shy to ask if they would be having sex?
“I want it. Sex, I mean. If…if that’s all right with you?” Buffy stammered nervously as she crawled onto the bed. Settling in the middle, she leaned back against the mountain of black silk pillows, licked her lips with anticipation and held her hand out towards Spike.
Taking her hand, Spike turned it over and placed a kiss against the underside of her wrist, feeling the blood coursing below the delicate skin and nibbled his way up her arm to drop another kiss on her lips; this one filled with passion and hunger. Pulling back, his tongue dancing behind his upper lip, he leered at her with a cocked eyebrow, and said, “I know it’s just because you can’t keep your hands off m’ hot, tight body.”
“As if!” she cried with mock indignation while swatting him playfully on the arm. Rethinking the matter, she decided to retract the comment. “Ok, well maybe just a little bit…you are pretty sexy for a dead guy.”
“I knew you wanted me, can’t resist can you?” he retorted saucily as he leaned up to whip his shirt off and fling it across the room to land haphazardly across a chrome and black leather chair tucked away in a corner; soon to be joined by a pair of black jeans. Glaring down at Buffy, he growled, “You’re wearing entirely way too many clothes, kitten…either strip or risk losing the only outfit you’ve got for now.”
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s not like you haven’t already destroyed the skirt, right?” she retorted, eyeballing the ripped material with a sarcastic grin as she slipped it over her hips and down her thighs; revealing her bare pussy to his hungry gaze. “Too bad about my undies, though…they were new and I liked them a lot.”
Quickly losing the battle of wills as she slowly removed the black skirt inch by teasing inch, Spike licked his lips hungrily at the sight of her bare skin glistening with juices in the faintly lit room. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he stalked up the bed like a panther hunting its prey. Slowly, he crawled over her trembling body until he was nestled between her thighs. He wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled her off the bed to perch on his lap.
Buffy’s body quaked with desire, trembled with uncontrollable passion, her skin was on fire with each touch of his hands as they caressed her thighs, wrapped them around his body and lifted her from the bed to intimately circle him. The hardened length of his desire was pressed against her heated center, teasingly probing and driving her mad with fervor. She watched, her eyes glazed with lust, as he lifted one pale hand and leisurely unbuttoned her crimson colored silk shirt; baring her breasts to him inch by inch before slipping it off her shoulders, and slide it down her arms to pool on the bed beneath her.
Her breath came in shallow pants as he traced the swell of her creamy breasts, dipped below the lacy material of her bra and teased the rosy peaks that lay below the pink material. She wiggled in his lap, begging for him to take her, trying her best to allow his cock to slip inside her and make her feel the ecstasy she’d drowned in earlier. She whimpered, a low pitiful sound, when he growled at her actions and gave her a heated look with his glacial eyes that shouted for her to behave. Stilling her motions, she watched in near silence, only the faint sound of her breathing filling the room, as his fingers ghosted over her breasts as if memorizing them by touch.
The feel of her skin, soft as velvet and hot as fire, beneath the pads of his fingers was mesmerizing, tantalizing and damn near one of the more erotic moments he’d ever had. To hold a woman so intimately, feel the heat of her core radiating against him, the softness of her skin under his hands, the whisper of her breath against the curve of his neck, the rhythmic fluttering of her heart next to his chest, were experiences he’d hadn’t allowed himself in years. Leaning in close, Spike nibbled on her neck, dipped his tongue into the tiny hallow at the base and spread open mouthed kisses along the golden skin of her chest until his mouth brushed the pillowy top of her breast. Nibbling and nipping at the heated flesh through the lacy material, he stopped to suckle the peak of her nipple before biting down gently with blunt teeth and smiling around the pebble as the slight bit of pain caused her to gasp sharply. Continuing on to the other breast, he lavished the same attention and this time, managed to pull out a moan of desire from between her lips when he bit down harder. Pulling away, he kissed the sweat glistened skin between her breasts and murmured, “Are you certain, luv?”
Buffy’s desire laden mind barely registered his question as he whispered against her chest. Shaking her head, as if to clear away the lusty fog in her brain, she managed to speak, “Look at me, Spike.” She waited until their eyes were connected before continuing, “I want this. I need you to do this for me. And, if you decide to stick around afterwards, if you realize that an eternity without someone to share it with is going to be seriously lonely…then, that’s like adding extra chocolate fudge to an ice cream sundae. So, stop asking me if I’m sure and take me, ok?”
“You’re a right bossy bint, y’know that?” Spike growled against her neck, biting sharply at the curved juncture. “And, I like that, kitten.” Pulling back, he reached up and wrapped two fingers around the slip of fabric between her breasts and ripped the bra from her body; eliciting a cry from Buffy, a mixture of shock and desire. “Course, I tend to get a bit out ‘f control from time to time when ‘m ordered around.”
Buffy panted with need, with want, with desire as she glared into his eyes with a heated gaze. Wanting him now, unable to wait any longer, she slipped a hand between their bodies and wrapped it around the cool, marbled shaft that was trapped there. Licking her lips, their gazes still locked, she rose up ever so slightly and sank down, taking him in with one swift movement; relishing in the intense bite of pain as he filled her quickly, not giving her body one second to acclimate to his girth. Moving her hips seductively, her arms wrapped around his and her nails dug sharply into his flesh, she breathily demanded, “Fuck me, Spike!”
Growling at her demands, Spike clamped his hands around her tiny waist and thrust upwards into her; taking her hard and fast as per her demand. Pumping in and out, his cries of passion filled the room to combine with her moans of pleasure in a heady mix of ecstasy as their desire built, climbed higher and higher until it bordered on the peak of completion. Spike slipped into his demonic visage, nuzzled along the flushed skin of her neck and nibbled along the faint blue line of her vein. Sensing that she was about to tumble, spill over the edge and give way to the orgasm that trembled just below the surface, Spike sank his fangs deep into her throat and drew heavily on the rich, tangy blood that flowed freely into his awaiting mouth.
Stars sparkled behind her closed eyes; pleasure peaked and swirled through her body as her release claimed her when Spike’s fangs pricked her skin. Buffy’s body tightened, her hands clawed at his back, slicing the cool skin into an array of bloody ribbons as the pleasurable feeling of her release bled into the dizzy feeling of her life slipping away. She vaguely noticed Spike’s cry of passion as he spilled his dead seed deep into her womb and shuddered in her arms. Her eyes weekly opened and dimly gazed into his amber eyes when he held a bloody wrist to her mouth and ordered her to drink; barely registering the sharp metallic taste as his blood flowed into her mouth as her eyes finally shut and she drifted off into death.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. I was pleased as punch that you guys liked it so much! I hope this one is as widly accepted as the last! Sorry the update took longer than expected, it was nearly finished last week but my mother wasn't feeling well and I decided to spend time with her instead of cooped up with the computer.
Go Read and enjoy....and hopefully, spoil me with reviews!
Go Read and enjoy....and hopefully, spoil me with reviews!
Chapter End Notes:
There will be an epi...short and sweet, to be posted asap. Remember, reviews feed the muse. (I am so not too proud to beg)