[Reviews - 279]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 5161 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 26

Spike paced around the hotel room waiting for Buffy to finish getting ready. She'd insisted that since she'd had to put on the same clothes she'd worn the day before, she needed another shower. Then she'd proceeded to produce enough toiletries to fill a small shop.

He was actually grateful for the delay. Anything that put off seeing Angel was good. However, it left him with time to relive how much of a fool he'd made of himself just a little while earlier.

The poetry had been a horrible mistake. If life had taught him anything, it was that poetry was always a bad idea, especially where women were concerned. It didn't help that the poem made him think of Dru. Eliot always made him think of Dru.

Who knew what Buffy would think if she suspected that he'd quoted to her a poem he'd committed to memory after Dru had left him. Of all the many poems that he'd filled his head with during his life, why did it have to be that one?

At least she hadn't laughed at him. Then again, who could laugh at Eliot? Maybe. . . maybe she'd even liked it. Maybe he'd impressed her just a bit.

That was almost worse. It was one thing to look foolish in her eyes, but it was somehow worse to impress her with other people's words. He was no Christian de Neuvillette wooing a girl with stolen words. Courting her with borrowed sentiments.

Which brought up another problem. Why had he told Buffy he'd take her to any show she wanted? If he had half a brain, he would have simply told her he was taking her to the theatre. Cyrano would have been an excellent choice. Or if she was determined to see something light and musical, maybe Kiss Me Kate was playing. Who knew what she'd choose.

Finally the door to the bathroom opened and Buffy reemerged wearing a tank top with a loose skirt. She was carrying her dirty clothes in her hand, and moving to put them in a bag. She wasn't paying any attention to Spike at the moment, but he had his full attention on her.

She smelled like oranges. The thought slowly penetrated his brain, then rushed straight to his cock. Before she knew what had happened, Spike had her pressed against the wall and was kissing her passionately.

"Whamul?" she uttered as his tongue filled her mouth.

She returned the kiss for a moment, then her hands moved to his chest to push him gently away. He tried to keep the kiss going, but his neck was only so long, and he was forced to release her lips as his body was gently moved back from her.

The moment the kiss ended, she stopped pushing against him, and he tried a new tactic. He kissed her neck, burying his face in her hair. He took a deep breath and determined that she was still using the same shampoo, that it must have been her soap she had changed.

'For me!' the ecstatic thought came, 'She changed it for me!'

"Spike," Buffy giggled as he nibbled on her ear. "What are you doing?"

She pushed at him again, but there was no strength behind it. She was just playing with him.

"Smell nice," he mumbled as he began to kiss his way down her neck.

His hands - which had been on her waist this whole time - slipped up the back of her shirt, and began to caress the skin of her back.

"Hey," she cried with fake modesty. But she made no move to stop him, and her scent told him that she was enjoying his attention.

He kissed his way down her collabone, then looked up at her with a grin, "Bet you taste nice too."

Before she could protest, he was on his knees kissing her stomach while he reached under her skirt, to remove her panties.

"Hey," she protested again, "We have to. . . um . . ."

That obstacle removed, he lifted her left leg up, and over his shoulder, and began kissing the inside of her thighs. She giggled again as his breath tickled her.

He'd meant to go slow. He'd wanted to make her beg. Make her pay for all the silly rules, all the distance she'd kept between them. But he just wasn't that strong. Seeing her opened up before him like that, smelling the intoxicating mix of her arousal and oranges, he had to taste her.

His tongue darted out and began to lick her outer folds, eliciting a series of moans from her. One of her hands became tangled in his hair, and she held him close to her. Then he thrust his tongue into her core so he could taste her hot juices.

He moaned with delight as she gasped his name. While one hand still held her in place, the other one undid his zipper, releasing his cock from it's denim prison. He began to lightly stroke himself as his tongue circled her inside. He had no intention of making himself come yet, but he couldn't stand not to touch himself.

She began to move against him as the heel of her foot dug into his back. As her moans became louder, he pulled his tongue out from her core, and went to work on her clit.

"Oh, God!" she cried as he gently kissed her. "Spike. . . Please," she began to beg him as he flicked his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Please what?" he mumbled, making sure to direct his breath against her clit.

"I need. . . " she gasped for breath. "You. . . inside me. . . please! I can't. . . . can't take this. . . now."

He let go of his cock and got off his knees, taking her leg down from his shoulder, then wrapping it around his waist, as he stood up. With his other hand he cupped her face, and he looked her dead in the eye.

"Say it again. Tell me what you need." His voice came out demanding, but inside he was begging her. He was anything but sure.

Her eyes met his for a moment, before she closed them and whimpered with need.

"You. I need you!"

That was enough for Spike. He plunged into her.

But Buffy wasn't done yet. "Take me! Fuck me!"

Her pussy had become wondrously tight from lack of use. Even so her hot depths sucked him in greedily. As he slid into her, she wrapped her other leg around him. As the last bit of his length filled her, he pressed up against her pushing her clit against his pelvic bone.

"Make me yours," she screamed as the orgasm hit her. "YES!"

Her body convulsing around him was incredible. It threatened to pull him over the edge and it took every bit of control he had not to follow her.

"Spike! Claim me! Take me!" her litany continued as she passed the peak of her orgasm.

He had begun to move inside of her, a slow rhythm so as to draw out the experience of being inside her. But her words grabbed him in a deeper way than even her body could. The demon roared forth, eager at the invitation she had given him. As his own body began to shake with his orgasm, his fangs sank into her neck.

Hot blood, sweeter than any he had ever tasted greeted his tongue. Even if he hadn't been aroused, he thought he would have come at the taste of her blood. But he didn't bite deep. It wasn't a conscious decision, he was long past rational thought. But neither was he a fledgling. His fangs only barely broke her skin. He was trying to mark her, not hurt her.

She gasped with pleasure when he bit her, he could feel her body start to respond to him in all the right ways. Which was why he was so surprised when she pushed him away and he hit the floor.

He looked up to see Buffy standing there with a look of revulsion on her face and one hand on her neck covering the bite.

"What did. . ? Why . . ? You bit me," Buffy accused him.

His face reverted to his human form, the demon driven away by the fear that he'd messed things up, and by a sensation Spike was not used to. Shame.

"You told me to. You asked. . ." he defended himself. But he felt guilty. It was an old, unfamiliar feeling.

"When. . ? What on earth would make you think I wanted you to bite me?" There was a touch of hysteria in her voice.

Spike flinched. How had he done this? How had he gotten things so wrong. He hadn't meant to, but it was clear that he had hurt her.

"You said," came his weak defense. "You asked me to claim you."

"What are you talking about. I said. . . I don't know what I said, but how does that translate into make me a snack."

"I wasn't trying to eat you!" Spike snapped, before the absurdity of the statement hit him. "I mean. . ." He stopped, and suddenly things came clear to Spike. "You don't know what a claim is, do you?"

The blank look on her face told him all he needed to know.

"Bloody idiots." He zipped his pants back up, got to his feet, and began to pace. His other emotions where displaced by rage at the other men in Buffy's life. "Can't believe your Watcher never told you about the claim. Not as if you were the bloody Slayer. Not as if you didn't date a bloody vampire."

"Hello? Spike? Topic?"

"Right, look pet. The claim. It's something vampire's do. The claim, it would mark you, make you mine. It shouldn't have hurt. Did it hurt?"

"No, that's not the point. You don't go around just biting people." She paused as a new thought hit her. "The chip?! It's not working."

"Of course it's working. Damn thing nearly split my head open last night when I was trying to save you. I wasn't trying to hurt you, would never hurt you. That's why it didn't go off."

Buffy just started at him for a minute, then she backed into the bathroom and closed the door on him.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, examining her newest wounds. The marks on her neck weren't bad, they should heal quickly, but not quickly enough. Now she was glad that she had bought a turtleneck. She'd have to change, anyway. She couldn't see Angel in her current state.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. Her heart was beating a mile a minute; she could hear it pounding in her ears. She could still remember the feel of Spike's fangs, how nice it had been.

If she had been anyone other than the Slayer, she would have succumbed. She would have let him drink her dry, but an alarm had gone off. Some slayer sense that responded to Spike's bite as an attack.

It hadn't felt like an attack though. It had felt like sex. Felt like something deep and powerful and primal. She couldn't argue with Spike's chip logic, either. He hadn't meant to hurt her. Still, she felt betrayed. Whether by herself or by him she wasn't sure.

Claim. The word both attracted and repelled her. She was the Slayer; she could never belong to a vampire.

But she was also Buffy. A girl. The thought of belonging to someone was wonderful. It's what she'd always wanted. To be a couple. To be part of something that was more than just her. To be connected.

That's why she'd bought the citrus body wash, she now realized. She'd already started to mark herself as Spike's. She closed her eyes and remembered for a moment how wonderful it had felt when Spike had reacted so passionately to the new scent. She'd been afraid he wouldn't even notice. Guys never noticed it when you did stuff like that for them. But he had, and he'd liked it, and she'd liked his liking it.

But maybe the claim didn't mean all that. She'd never heard of it before, and she was pretty mad at both Giles and Angel for overlooking that part of her education. Maybe a claim was just a fancy vampire term for brand. Maybe it was just a way of marking a favorite human to feed off of.

There was only one solution Buffy could see. She would clean herself up and they would go see Angel. If she was busy worrying about him, she wouldn't have time to worry about herself.





You must login (register) to review.