Chapter Three
When Spike’s old Desoto pulled into the driveway that night, Buffy was waiting in the living room wearing the tenth outfit she’d put on and rejected before finding one that suited her. She was wearing a light, floral skirt that floated around her knees and strappy sandals with high heels. Her top was a long halter that tied in the back and at her neck. It was clearly not something to be worn with a bra.
She stood up uncertainly when the vampire knocked on the front door instead of coming right in as he usually did. Rolling her eyes at her sister, Dawn flounced past her and opened the door. Spike entered hesitantly, his eyes immediately going to Buffy, his vampire senses picking up on her nervousness.
“Hi.”
“Hi yourself.” That part of the conversation exhausted, they stood staring at each other like two thirteen year olds on their first date. “You look beautiful, pet,” he finally broke the silence.
“So do you,” she said softly, blushing at her words but meaning every one of them. Instead of his usual black tee shirt, the vampire was wearing a blue button-down dress shirt the same shade as his eyes. He did, indeed, look beautiful with his long lashes, defined cheekbones and kissable mouth.
“Have fun,” Dawn said, practically shoving them out the door. She closed it behind them and went up to her room mumbling to herself about adult stupidity.
If Spike hadn’t been so unsure of what Buffy was up to, he would have laughed aloud at the look on Xander’s face when he walked in with Buffy’s fingers linked tightly with his own. When her friend frowned and started to open his mouth, she held up an imperious hand and said, “Not one word, Xander. Not one damn word.”
When Spike came back from the bar with a drink for her and a beer for himself, she stood up and waited for him to sit down before seating herself on his lap. It was a toss-up who was more surprised – Xander or Spike. Both nearly spit their drinks out when she leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder. Only Buffy’s warning glare and Anya’s constant pinching kept the dark-haired boy from saying something that could get him in trouble.
“So, what’s this about, then, pet?” Spike whispered into her ear. “Not that I’m complainin’, but...”
She looked up at him, suddenly uncertain of her actions.
“You don’t want me here? Don’t you like it?” She started to slide off his lap, her face reddening in embarrassment.
“Didn’t say that, love,” he responded quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Just want to know what’s going on, that’s all. Not really up for another round of ‘Buffy pretends to love Spike’.” The bitterness in his voice was palpable.
Seized by guilt and regret, she slid off his lap onto a chair, blinking back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.
“I wasn’t pretending,” she whispered, almost to herself, looking down into her drink. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d be hap-“
“Say that again.” His voice contained just enough painful hope to soften the commanding tone.
“I said I wasn’t pretending,” she said clearly, raising her wet eyes to his and letting him see, for the first time, the truth of what she was saying. “I...I’ll understand if you don’t believe me or don’t wa—”
“Let’s go.” He stood up quickly, taking her hand and nodding his good-night to Anya and Xander’s puzzled faces. He pulled Buffy toward the door, ignoring the fact that she was wearing high heels and struggling to keep up with him.
When they were outside and away from the crowd waiting at the door, she planted her feet stubbornly and said, “I’m not going another step until you tell me what you’re doing. And, hello? High heels here! Sooo not made for running.”
He scooped her up and began striding toward his car, coat billowing behind him as he covered the ground in long steps that were perilously close to leaps. When he reached the car he put her down, holding her elbow carefully until she had her balance.
“What was that all about? I thought we were going out for the night.”
“We’re not having that conversation in a public place. Certainly not in front of the whelp and demon-girl.”
“What conversation?” she muttered, still angry about being dragged out of the club.
“WHAT conversation? Bloody hell, woman. Did you hear what you said in there?”
He was glaring at her, taking deep, fast and totally unnecessary breaths as she shuffled her feet and studied the side of the car intently.
“Did you know you have a scratch here?” She ran her finger along the side of the large, black car trying to pretend she didn’t know how agitated he was. The feral snarl at her back soon disabused her of that notion. She turned reluctantly to face the enraged vampire.
“Buffy” he growled, clenching his fists. “So help me, Slayer. You are this close...”
“What do you want me to say, Spike?” She glared back at him. “I gave you as much as I can right now. We went out in public together on what was obviously a date. There were PDAs. In front of Xander, no less. Do you want me to hold up a sign – ‘Buffy and Spike are together’?”
“You said you weren’t pretending to love me,” he said quietly. “Did you mean it?”
“Yes...no...I don’t know.”
“Well that clears things up nicely.”
“Look, when I...did what I did and realized I had hurt you...again...” She looked up guiltily. “I didn’t know what to do. You wouldn’t look at me, or talk to me. I thought I’d finally pushed you away and it...it scared the hell out of me. And then when Dawn said you had a girlfriend, and I saw you with—”
“You saw me?”
She nodded. “I was running and I ended up in....never mind. I saw you and I thought I was going to die. Right there, on the street in the middle of a demon neighborhood, the Slayer was going to die from jealousy.” She glanced up at his frowning face with eyes brimming with tears. “You would have gotten your third Slayer; even if you never knew how it happened.”
“You look surprisingly good for a dead slayer,” he commented without any inflection.
“Well, I didn’t die, obviously. But I wanted to. I was so sure I had lost you. That you weren’t mine anymore. And it hurt. More than I would have thought possible. But, is that because I love you or just because I think you’re my property? I don’t know, Spike. I just don’t know what I feel. I know I want you to be mine, I just don’t...”
“You just don’t know if you want to be mine,” he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets.
Tears stood in her eyes again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I want to be fair to you, but the idea of not having you in my life...”
He stepped closer to her and oblivious to the other patrons leaving their cars to join the line into the club, he put his hands on both sides of her face and looked into her eyes.
“You will never not have me in your life, Buffy. Not unless you dust me. We might not be together, but I’ll be there somewhere, watching over you and the Bit. I am yours, pet. For always and forever. You don’t have to force yourself to feel something you don’t really feel…” He shut his eyes briefly until he had his voice under control. “...just to keep me around. I’ll never leave you, Buffy. Never.”
With a shuddering breath, she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. He put his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her hair. Buffy relaxed for the first time since she’d left his crypt so many weeks ago, content for the moment just to be held by the vampire who loved her.
When the third person to yell, “Get a room!” had scurried inside after Spike flashed his fangs at him, Buffy gave a little laugh and pulled away from the comfort of his embrace.
“If he thinks we need a room now, it’s a good thing he never saw us actually—”
“Come on, love. Let’s get out of here.”
He opened the driver’s side door and waited for her to get in and scoot across the seat before he sat down and started the engine. “Where to, Slayer?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to be pushy, but it’s been a long time since we...”
“Tell me about it,” he growled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the reminder. “My place it is, then.” He pulled the big car out of the lot and headed toward Restfield cemetery.
After parking the car in the caretaker’s garage, they walked together toward his crypt. Buffy’s steps were getting slower and slower until she finally stopped just short of the door.
“What’s the matter, love?” He tried to keep the fear out of his voice when he saw her second thoughts. “We don’t have to shag if you don’t want to. I jus’ want to spend some time with you.”
“I do want to,” she said, her lower lip going out in a small pout. “I just don’t want it to be like it was. I don’t want to go back to the hitting and—”
He stepped closer and tilted her face up to his, capturing her lips and pressing his tongue against them until she sighed and let it in to caress her own. When his kiss had had its usual effect on her, he moved his mouth up to her ear and whispered, “Do me a favor, love?”
“Mmmmmm, what?”
He leaned back and looked directly into her puzzled eyes. “Let me make love to you. Let me love you the way I want to. Just for tonight. Let me pretend you’re mine like I’m yours.”
Force of habit sent a bolt of fear through her body at the danger of letting him do what he was asking, but one look at the way his face was shutting down as he felt her recoil, and she leaped to reassure him.
“I...I think I’d like that,” she breathed.
Epilogue
Spike took her hand and walked her the rest of the way to the door, holding it for her and then pulling it tightly shut behind him. He left her standing by the door while he quickly lit some candles, taking one of them in his hand and leading her to the ladder to the downstairs.
He jumped down first and set the candle down, turning to hold up his arms for her. She lightly stepped off the floor and dropped into his waiting arms, completely confident that he would catch her. He left her standing at the bottom of the ladder while he carefully lit several more candles around the bed and turned the rumpled sheets down.
Instead of coming back to her as she expected, he sat down and took off his boots, setting them carefully to one side before standing up and walking toward the puzzled Slayer. Taking her hand, he led her slowly to the bed and sat her down on the edge.
He knelt at her feet and gently unbuckled her sandals, slipping them off her feet one at a time and placing them with his boots. He massaged each foot briefly and kissed her toes before putting them back on the floor and standing up again. He moved away again, going to a cupboard she’d never noticed before and taking out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He poured the wine and carried the glasses back to the bed, handing one to her and sitting down beside her.
He lifted his glass and lightly touched it against hers, asking, “Will you trust me, love?”
She nodded slowly, raising her glass to her lips and taking a small sip, holding his eyes as she did so. They drank slowly, never taking their eyes off each other, until Buffy’s glass was empty. Spike took the glass from her, setting it on the bedside table beside the bottle.
Moving tentatively, as though expecting her to stop him any minute, he ran his hand lightly up her arm until he could place it behind her head. He pulled her face toward his, resting his lips on hers and moving them gently in a warm, but chaste kiss. Not until he felt her heart rate go up did he deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to tease her lips until she opened them. Their tongues joined in a silent dance. They stroked and swirled, advanced and retreated.
Buffy knew Spike was an excellent kisser. She’d known that since Willow’s unfortunate spell two years before; but never had his kisses moved her the way this one did. Along with the undeniably incredible technique was a tenderness and a barely controlled desire that sent her blood racing and moisture pooling in the thong she’d worn under the thin skirt.
He did nothing but kiss her until she was moaning and breathing heavily. She’d promised him he could make love to her, but she thought if he didn’t get on with the program soon she was going to have to break her promise and tackle him to the bed. As though he’d read her mind, he began to untie the halter top, letting it drop into her lap when he’d released both strings.
His head dropped down and his lips fastened around one rosy nipple while one hand cupped the other breast reverently. Buffy’s head went back as the sucking sensation on her nipple made itself felt all the way down to her womb. She leaned backwards and Spike gently lowered her to the bed, never taking his mouth off her breast as he eased her down.
She put her hands in his soft curls and held his head to her breast, wondering if it was possible to come just from having your nipple sucked into a reddened peak. With a soft “plop”, he let go of it and moved back up to her mouth, stroking his tongue over and around inside it while his hand roamed her body, teasing and touching all the bare skin he could find.
His gentle hands slid over the soft skin of her torso, stroking and caressing her until she wanted to scream at him. She couldn’t scream, though, because her mouth was otherwise occupied with his talented lips and tongue. Her whimpers of need made him smile into the kiss and she bit his lip in retaliation.
“Patience, love,” he breathed in her ear before he took the lobe in his blunt human teeth and tugged on it lightly. “You promised me I could do this my way for once.”
“Your way is taking too long.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout, knowing it would bring his focus back where she wanted it.
He sucked the lower lip into his mouth, while one hand dipped under her skirt and ran up the inside of her warm thigh. She sucked her breath in with a little gasp as he brushed his fingers lightly across her mound before running them down the other thigh to her knee.
Pushing her skirt up to her waist, he lowered his head to her knee and kissed a path up her inner thigh, lightly touching his tongue to her sodden underwear before kissing his way down the other leg. As he worked his way up and down her legs, he murmured his appreciation of her warm, soft skin and the scent of her arousal.
When her hips were actually going through the motions of intercourse and her whimpers had reached a painful crescendo, he relented and, using his teeth to rip off her thong, he nudged her clit with his nose. He inhaled the heady aroma of her arousal, licking up the juices he found there.
“Love the way you taste, Buffy. So wet for me, so warm and tight. Like warm honey you are. Could stay here forever.”
He sucked her clit into his mouth and began to massage it with his tongue while he sucked on it. Within a few seconds, her hips were arching up off the bed toward his mouth and she was gasping his name as she shattered around him. Before she had stopped trembling with the after effects, he had slipped her skirt off and was nuzzling the soft skin on her stomach, purring into it.
Buffy reached weakly for his shirt, trying to unbutton it or pull it over his head.
“More Spike skin,” she muttered, ripping the buttons off in her urgency. “Need to feel you, now!” she growled, tugging at his zipper.
He rolled to the side and quickly slid his jeans off while she finished ripping his shirt from his smoothly muscled chest. As soon as he was as naked as she, he rolled back over and covered her slim, muscular body with his own.
“So warm, so smooth and strong, my little Slayer. My Buffy. My love.”
The joy of being allowed to whisper all the things he’d wanted to tell her for so long was so great he thought he could happily spend the rest of the night just kissing her and whispering endearments in her ear.
“I love you, Buffy,” he rumbled. “Love you so bloody much.”
He held an unnecessary breath, waiting to see what her reaction would be to the words he was not allowed to say aloud, but she just wrapped her legs around his and pulled his hips closer to her still moving pelvis. The feel of her warm body writhing under him was more than his control could take and he allowed his cock to nudge at her entrance.
“Let me in, Buffy. Invite me in, love. I need you.”
“I need you, too,” she astonished him by admitting. “I need you in me right now. Come in, Spike. Be in me. Love me, William. Love me”
With a sound that was half sob and half shout of joy, he slid into her with one hard thrust, pausing when he was fully seated to allow her to adjust to him as he basked in the sensation of once again being surrounded by his slayer.
Buffy’s arms went around him and she brought her legs up to wrap around his hips, moving in complete tandem with his slow, deep thrusts. Just as she had so many weeks ago, she took the skin of his neck in her mouth and sucked hard on it until she knew she’d made another mark. This time, she used her blunt little teeth to pinch the skin hard as she breathed, “Mine.”
“Yours,” he agreed, fighting down his demon as it tried to respond to the bite and the words. “Always yours.”
“Mine,” she repeated. “You are mine.”
Their movements came harder and faster and the tension built up until Buffy was quivering on the edge and clutching him to her while she rubbed her clit against him and clenched her internal muscles around his swollen length. With a scream, she threw her head to one side, exposing her neck to his lips and teeth.
“God, Buffy...” he groaned, fighting for control when everything in him was straining to reach the silky skin with the rich blood pulsing just below the surface.
“Do it,” she said urgently. “Make me yours, Spike. I want to belong to you.”
Without any conscious effort on his part, his fangs dropped and he slid them into her delicate skin, careful not to tear. The taste of her blood on his tongue was all it took to send him spiraling into an endless release. As his hips pumped his cool semen into her depths, his mouth was taking deep draughts of the elixir that flowed in her veins.
The feeling of her blood being pulled into his mouth as he emptied himself into her sent Buffy shuddering with the waves of sensation racking her body. For long minutes they clung together, shaking with the physical and emotional response to the connections being established.
“Mine,” Spike growled, licking the wounds before she bled too much.
“Yours,” she agreed breathlessly. “I’m yours.”
He rolled off to the side, pulling her with him so that she was lying against him, her arm and leg across his body and her head resting on his shoulder. Unlike the last time they’d been in that position, this time his arms were securely around her while she snuggled into him.
He planted a light kiss on the top of her head as she nuzzled his throat and sighed contentedly. Deep purrs were emanating from his chest, the vibrations spreading throughout Buffy’s body and relaxing it even more.
“Mmmmm,” she mumbled. “Like that. Feels like a massage chair, only, you know, cuddlier.”
He chuckled, squeezing her gently as he leaned down to lick his marks, sending a bolt of electricity straight to her womb. “You know, Slayer—”
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘I told you so’, I am sooo going to stake you.”
He tipped her face up so that he could look at her as he asked, “How about, I love you? You alright with those words?”
“I think I could get used to them,” she whispered back, never taking her eyes off his. “I might even be able to get used to saying them.”
“I’ve got time, love. I’ve got plenty of time.”
The end
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