[Reviews - 37]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 5295 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 7

So many questions.

Buffy

It’s hard to tell who’s holding who. Am I in his arms, or is he in mine? Is that my skin that I can feel, or is it his? Have I ever been this close to another person before?

We’re still joined, clamped together. Locked in the shocked aftermath of what we’ve just done. I’m supposed to be a hero, but I took the coward’s way out. Left the decision to him. Would I have ever taken that final step, if he’d waited for me?

But a decision to what? Is he going to take me dancing, give me children? Buy me a house with a white picket fence? Are we going to sit by the fire and grow old together?

Or are we just doomed to have mind-blowing, soul-searching sex in the shadows? To carry on with life and nurse this as a shameful little secret that no one will ever know?

He lifts his head and looks at me long and deep. His eyes holding a special understanding that I would never have looked for in Spike.

“Now we know,” he says quietly and rolls to the side, still holding me.

I settle over him, gathering my scattered senses.

“Yes,” I whisper back. “Now we know.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but I get in first. “Don’t offer me any more money,” I say. “Please don’t.”

He nods his head and I feel his hand clutching at my face. He’s holding me too hard for it to be comfortable, but I guess sometimes in life you have to anchor yourself down, otherwise you’ll be lost.

Was it my climax I felt, or his? I don’t even know that. It was sharp and it was sweet, with an edge of desperation that had us both reaching out with everything we had. And somewhere, between us, we collided in a frenzy of feeling that I will spend the rest of my life trying to unravel and find meaning for.

I wish I hadn’t felt it. I’m too young to have felt the most intense thing I’ll ever feel. Too young to see the most beautiful thing my eyes will ever gaze upon. Or maybe it’s because, as I told him just a few moments ago, I’m a slayer and I’m destined for an early death?. Maybe I need to feel and see these things now, because I don’t have a lifetime stretching before me in which to do these things? I don’t have the luxury of time that will allow me to wander across this earth leisurely seeking them out. I can’t afford to say no, I’ll just wait and see if there’s something better around the corner.

When you’ve found your match in strength, it leaves you staring at your greatest weakness. I told myself he’d never win, but neither of us will.

He’s still hard, inside me, but he’s not moving. I wonder if he’s leaving the next step up to me. He’s gone very quiet. My cocky, swaggering Spike. Don’t you have words for this? No wisecracks about doing a slayer? No satisfied smugness to rub in my face about how easy it was?

He promised he’d take me all the way in one hard thrust. Said he’d be right there with me. And he didn’t lie. But how do you come back from this? What do you do with it? A feeling that leaves you so overwhelmed, you can’t hold it. Do you just let it fade and slip between your fingers?

What would normal people do? This would be a time for declarations of love. A time to feed the ego. To tell him he’s the biggest, the best. That in this test of manhood, he passed with flying colours.

And shouldn’t he be spouting poetry? Flattering me? Sweet talking me so I’ll want to do it again?

Instead he’s just holding me as if I might vanish at any moment. Deep inside me, where he’s wanted to be for so long, I know that now. And just holding on.

----------------------------------------------------------

Spike

If I could have just one moment and suspend it for all eternity, then it would be this one. Locked inside my slayer, I would gladly live out the rest of my existence here and never move again.

I’m cold and dead, but she’s warm and full of life and here in my arms. I can feel her heart struggling to beat normally again. It’s never going to beat normally around me again, you know that, don’t you love? I can feel her blood surging in her veins, pounding in her brain. It’ll always be like that when you’re near me. You can be alive for the both of us.

Dru made me hard, but she also made me dead. You make me soft, slayer, but you also make me feel alive. Make me feel like a man again. When you’re near me your heart can beat for the both of us. I can pretend that your blood sings in my veins too.

If I could get any deeper inside her, I would. If I could show her anything more than I did just now, then I would. If there were words for it, I’d tell her. But all I can do is hang on to her while she's here because soon, she will be gone.

Is this a kindness, or a cruelty? Showing her this. Forcing her to acknowledge what’s between us? What could be between us? We can’t not know this now. It’ll take a long time to forget this, and I know that however much feelings fade, I will replay this in my head until the tape is wiped clean from wear.

In any game of dominance comes the inevitable moment where you are perfectly matched to your opponent. It may be a stalemate that lasts for years, or just a split second of knowing. Like a roller coaster at its peak, there’s a moment when you are both suspended in mid air, and time seems to slow down and stretch out, and there is nothing but the two of you.

We’re not asking, wanting, giving or needing right now. We just are.

And it’s perfect.

I wish I could tell her. I wish I could know that she’d listen and welcome my words. I wish I had the nerve to cut out my heart and lay it at her feet where it belongs. That would be cruel. Even if she wanted it she couldn’t accept it. She has a life that doesn’t include me, and never will or could.

So I’ll be kind, because one of us has to be. I don’t care if the powers that be are up there laughing at the futility of all this. All I know is that this is a gift that I’m going to grab hold of with both hands, and everything in between. I’m the one buried inside her right now. It’s my hair that her fingers are stroking, my back that her palm is pressed against. Her breasts flattened against my chest. And her lovely little mouth, hot against my neck.

I’ll be kind, because one of us has to move. One of us has to prove that what happened just now wasn’t a fluke, and that we can make it happen again and again as many times as we choose.

“Did I keep my promise?” I ask her.

She gives a tiny nod against me in response.

“And what else did I promise?” I ask, looking at her, at last. Tilting her chin so she’s forced to look at me. “What else did I say, tell me,” I insist.

“You said it could be slow and easy.”

Her voice is trembling, but I hear what she says. Hear how she says it.

“What else did I say?” I ask her.

“You said.” She looks away, but I force her back. Want to see the desire in her eyes as she anticipates what I’m going to do to her. “That it could be slow and easy and that you could keep going for hours.”

“And would you like that? Would you like me to keep you prisoner here and make love to you until you pass out from the pleasure of it all? Shall I do that?”

I swear the look on her face is one of regret, but she shakes her head.

“I can’t stay with you, Spike. Can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Much as you’d like to?” I say it hopefully, not really expecting an answer and she doesn’t give one. Just twists herself so that she’s draped over me like a blanket, and starts to move. She sets the rhythm, she sets the pace. Like she’s always done.

And I sing and dance to her tune, like I’ve always done, and I always will.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Buffy

So many questions. Only one answer. But one that can’t be put into words. I’m too scared to say it out loud. Too scared to admit to anyone but myself that this creature makes me feel something that is out of this world. If you look in a mirror long enough you’ll see yourself at last. Maybe Spike is my mirror? Maybe I need him so that I can see what I really am? What I really have inside.

He gives a long, breathy, growl as I start to move. Half passion, half relief. I press myself as hard against him as I can, almost so that we can feel our bones touching through our skin, and then I ease off.

“Slow and easy,” I whisper to him. “I want to feel it, just like you said. Just like you promised.”

He starts to move and I’m so wet for him that with each stroke he almost pulls out completely and each time he does my body cries out to have him back. Then he’s back inside me all the way and everything’s how it should be once more. And this happens over and over until it becomes a kind of sweet torture. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Looks me full in the eye as if, each time, just before he plunges in, he’s asking permission. And after a while I’m saying it out loud. Yes, yes, yes. Like an actress in a porn movie.

“Do you want it?” he asks, pulling out.

“Yes,” I reply, pushing back down.

“How much?” he asks.

“All of you,” I say, sliding onto him.

“It’s yours,” he says lifting his hips.

“Mine,” I agree, wriggling and fitting myself to him.

This was supposed to be slow and easy. But it’ll never be that between us. We’re both too greedy. Have to be greedy. Have to just take what we can, while it’s here.

I smell of him, like I said I would. And now he smells of me. And the more we move, the more we smell of each other. The whole room smells of us, doing the most primitive thing that a man and a woman can do together. He’s stroking me and touching me in places that no man has ever reached. And it’s not just a cock moving against sensitive nerve endings. Not just fingers seeking me out and joining in the dance. Not just a mouth kissing any part of me that it can reach. Any man could do that. They all know how.

No, it’s the fact that these are Spike’s slim fingers that are slippery with me. His fingernails scraping against me. It’s Spike cock that’s inside me, filling me. Spike’s mouth wetting me, Spike’s teeth nipping me. Spike. All around me. All I can see is Spike.

It’s not the size of him, or the length of him. Or even what he does with it. Any man can do that, be that.

What makes this so special, is that it’s him.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Spike

Sometimes, even a vampire needs this. A little tenderness.

A slow, hypnotising, mesmerising, mind-numbing fuck. Some might call it making love. We’ve had the difference explained to us often enough. But that’s all become cliché now. There are many ways to show a woman you love her. But the best one? Give her what she wants. Give her what she asks for. And let her know that you’re the only one she’ll get it from. And then she’ll come back, and she’ll come back. And she’ll always be looking for you.

Sneaky? Is that really love? I know. But I’m desperate here. Got to give her the best she’s ever had, spoil her for any other man. And yes, that makes me a selfish bastard, because, if she doesn’t want me after this, then she’s buggered, isn’t she? She’ll be stuck with second best for the rest of her life. Always be left wanting.

Always be left wanting me.

“Look at me, love,” I say as I hook my hands under her arms. “Gonna let you come in a bit. Wanna see you when you come. Want to see you looking at me.”

Her eyes are huge, incredulous, unblinking.

“That’s right,” I tell her. Keep them open, just like that. So I can see right inside. Let it show, Buffy.”

She opens them even wider, and now they’re all shiny and bright.

“Are those for me?” I ask.

“No, Spike,” she replies, shaking her head. Protesting a little too much. “They’re not for you.”

“I know,” I reply. “Come now, sweetheart. Let it go, give it all to me. Let me see you come while I’m inside you. S’better that way, isn’t it?”

She nods her head. Screws up her face. Keeps her eyes open. And I’m impressed, ‘cos that’s hard when you’re in the throes of this much passion. But she’s doing it for me, because I asked her to. I like to think she is, anyway.

And I am cruel, because I wring every last drop out of her. Keep her coming and coming until it’s only me holding her up. Until, just for the briefest moment in time, she’s mine, and only mine. And it’s my name that’s falling from her lips. Me she’s begging to let her finish. And I finally take pity on her, shout out her name, and come with her.

She falls on to me in a heap of slippery, wet skin, tangled hair and hot, panting breath. And we just lie there. The roller coaster’s hit the straight and we just coast along with it. And I’m just a little sad, as I stroke her and soothe her and encourage her to come back to the world, because we’ll never have this again. It might be worse, or it might be better, but it’ll never be as special as this first time. It’ll never be such a revelation, I’ll never be so shocked or so surprised.

She lifts her head and looks at me, a little bleary eyed, as if she’s drunk, and there’s the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips. So I smile too. And it’s infectious because hers gets wider and she rolls off me, tilts her head to look at me, and sighs.

“Where the hell do we go from here, Spike,” she says. “What the hell do we do now?”

tbc….

So, how's it going? Hope you're still enjoying. C.





You must login (register) to review.