By the time they arrived at his crypt, Spike felt like a prize wanker. Not only had he forced his cock down Buffy’s throat, but he’d taken advantage of the situation and persuaded her to open her thighs for him again. Any progress he’d made in the past few days—the warm glow that had been in her eyes the night before when he told her he wasn’t going to make her that girl—was thoroughly eradicated.
He didn’t know what had come over him. One second, his blood had been burning with fury as he’d stepped away from the other slayer’s unconscious body, and the next, any semblance of awareness had been shoved aside. And in the process, he’d managed to force her to her knees. He’d forced her to do something sexual.
The knowledge ripped him apart. And he hadn’t exactly made up with it for what he did afterward. The simple notion that Buffy might want to wrap her mouth around his cock had driven whatever commonsense he possessed to the wayside. He hadn’t been thinking. God, he hadn’t been thinking at all.
He wasn’t thinking clearly now, either. His right hand was curled around Buffy’s upper arm; he’d all but dragged her to the place he’d claimed as his home. If there was any humanity about him, he’d let her go. He’d tell her to run home after falling to his knees and begging her forgiveness. Telling her that he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it, but that, after what happened their first night together, he’d understand if she wanted to stake him good and proper. It’d certainly put an end to this sodding madness.
Spike released her shortly after crossing the threshold, whirling on his heel to slam the crypt door shut. His body was consumed in harsh, unforgiving pants. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t shake.
“Spike?” she asked softly. “I…”
He shuddered and shook his head. “God, Buffy…”
“I don’t—”
“I’m so sorry.”
There was no response. When he turned around, her eyes were swimming in confusion.
“You’re sorry?” she repeated. “What for?”
Spike blinked. Hadn’t she been with him a few minutes ago? Didn’t she know what he’d done? What he’d done to her again? He’d been right when he told her that her plan was driving them both dodgy—he could smell it on her every time she was near. Every time her silky hand folded into his. He knew how much she wanted him, but she’d made it perfectly clear that sex was forbidden. He’d given his word that he’d try to honor her plan, no matter how crazy it made him. And now he’d betrayed her.
Didn’t she know that? It was her bloody plan, after all.
“I didn’t mean…what happened out there, I didn’t mean that.” He sighed and glanced down, casting a hand through his platinum locks. “I saw you, an’ something snapped. I never meant to force you to do anything. Least of all…that.”
Her cheeks had darkened. “I…I thought we already talked about this.”
“Yeah, but then you distracted me with that heavenly mouth of yours.” Spike inhaled sharply and took a step forward. “Kinda lost all rational thought.” A sigh. “Pet, that was, perhaps, one of the greatest gifts you could’ve given me. Well…” He paused, his lips quirking upward in a grin. “It’s at least in the top five. An’ I never wanted…I wanted it to be something that you wanted to give me. Not that I jus’ took from you.”
Her flush deepened and she fidgeted. “No one…erm…no one forced me to—”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well, okay. Yes. At first, yes you did. But…” Her fidgeting became more pronounced, and suddenly, her eyes were struggling to maintain contact with his. “I knew it wasn’t you, Spike. Not all of you, anyway. It was just that part. And I’m sorry I wasn’t any good. I’ll…it was my first time, and I—”
He blinked stupidly. “You’re sorry you were what?”
“I…ummm…”
“Are you completely daft?”
She smiled weakly. “Please oh please, let’s not rule that out.”
“Buffy…” An abrupt, aimless laugh escaped his lips, and he shook his head helplessly. “I don’ know how to make this clear to you, so I’ll just try an’…what you did for me, back there. I’ve never felt anything like it. Never. You were…I felt…your touch was so gentle an’…”
It didn’t surprise him when her eyes clouded with more confusion than enlightenment. God, he wasn’t going anywhere with this. Nowhere that she could follow, anyway. He could barely follow himself. What he really wanted to tell her was that the way she’d touched him made him feel treasured—adored—like no other woman ever had. Dru had always approached sucking him off as a task, or a means to getting his head between her legs or wherever else she wanted it. It was never for him—it always served an ulterior motive where she was concerned. It was always a demonstration of the power she had over him. Give his cock some attention, and she could lead him wherever she wished.
After the snarling was over and he had returned to himself, Buffy had touched and tasted him of her own accord. And inexperienced though she might be, what she’d done for him meant the world. Buffy had touched him with adoration and caring. He’d nearly felt…
Loved.
That didn’t make his guilt any less escapable; it simply made her an angel.
“No one’s ever done to me what you do,” he said finally, his eyes floating up to meet hers again. “Never. An’ yeah, it’s been a bumpy ride. An’ yeah, I still don’ know where we’re headed. An’ yeah, I am confused as hell about most of it, but I know I wouldn’t trade it for anything, luv. Not for the whole sodding world. You hear me?”
She just looked at him and swallowed hard. There was a strange emotion floating in her eyes. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something he’d never seen.
Strange.
“I hear you,” she murmured. “And…don’t feel bad…about earlier.”
“Forcing you?”
“I didn’t see it as that.”
Spike fought off a sardonic snicker. That was because she was too good to see him for what he truly was anymore. Her memories of their past were muddied with knowledge of their present. If she thought he was above being a monster, she was in for a rude awakening. He didn’t know when—he just knew himself. His baser instincts couldn’t be denied. The further he went, the more he feared hurting her.
The more he knew it would be impossible to stay away.
“Besides…what you said to Faith…” Buffy sucked in a breath and blinked hard, her eyes shining with tears again. “That meant everything, Spike. You don’t know what…she’s done this before. I’ve never seen her so…up front about it, but this is what she’s done to me. Little by little, she’s come in and messed things up. Before you came back, she was trying to steal Angel. She was stealing my friends, my home, my mom, my fries, my Watcher…and now that she knows…about you and me, she was trying to steal…” She gestured emphatically between them. “Whatever this is, too.”
Spike stepped forward with a small smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Even after the spell’s over?”
He bit back the instinctive response and considered her. Of course, now would be the time to assure her that it would take a successful apocalypse to keep him away from her, and even that wasn’t a sure thing. However, the part of her that was so much the wounded girl—the part of her that was trying to convince her that he wouldn’t break her patched-up heart—would never allow the rest of her to fully believe that he was here for good. He didn’t blame her. She’d gone in with blinders the last time she’d given her heart to someone, and had been ripped to pieces for her troubles. And the fact that she was with another vampire—a preemptively soulless one at that—complicated everything.
She wanted to trust him, but the circumstances that had brought them together were too bizarre to believe blindly. In the meantime, he would do everything he could to convince her that he was completely hers—that, even after the spell was broken, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. And if she couldn’t trust him wholly until that moment, so be it. It wasn’t as though he’d done anything to deserve what she had to give.
Spike sighed and took her hands in his, his thumbs softly caressing the backs. “Why don’t we worry about after the spell…after the spell, yeah?” he asked, his eyes downcast.
That clearly wasn’t the answer she’d expected, but Buffy hid her surprise well. She swallowed hard and nodded. “And until then?”
“Until then.” Spike swallowed hard, raising her hands to his mouth so that he could caress each with a soft kiss. “Until then…”
He trailed off. The words refused to come.
“Until then?” Buffy prompted. “U-until then, what? Spike?”
He honestly couldn’t believe he was about to say this, but it was for the best. The pay-off, as he’d discovered the night before, would be worth whatever he had to sacrifice now. He needed to show her that it wasn’t just about sex for him.
Any hope that it had been all about sex for him had been completely shot the second she came up with the sodding plan in the first place. When the part of him that was wholly male coincided with the poncy, romantic poet who wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her pretty things. Pretty, flowery, things. He’d wanted so much to bury that part of him, and it had only taken her a few days to unearth a century’s efforts to do just that.
The thing was, Buffy didn’t mind that part of him. She didn’t. In fact, she seemed to like it. She seemed to like the part of him that was a wanker of a romantic, just as she liked the demon. The demon, whom she’d attempted to calm with her wicked mouth.
Her acceptance of him made all the difference.
“Until then,” he continued at last. “We stick to the plan.”
Buffy blinked, astonished. She clearly hadn’t been expecting that. “We do?”
“Well…yes.” Spike forced a small smile. “We had one slip-up, luv, an’ the full of it was my fault. Maybe it was bein’ around a chit that wasn’t you. Maybe it was hearing her rip you apart. Or maybe, after so long, I jus’ really needed you.”
Her cheeks reddened again. God, he loved that look on her.
“So…we continue the plan…” she ventured slowly. “A-and if there’s a slip-up every now and then…we just ignore it? And get back with the plan?”
Spike grinned. “Well, I say if there’s a slip-up, we enjoy every sodding second of it.” He couldn’t help it; he couldn’t keep himself from leaning in and nibbling on her succulent lips. Her lips were silken, her kisses sundrops, and he was burning from the inside. His felt his body stirring instinctively, his cock hardening against his zipper. And when she whimpered into him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to walk away.
“How about…” he murmured, breaking his lips from hers to explore her chin. “Whenever we slip up…” He trailed his hands up her arms, caressing the sides of her neck delicately, anchoring her into his kisses. “We allow the slip-up to extend until the next time we wake up?”
Buffy whimpered something unintelligible, hooking her arms under his shoulders and reeling him into her.
Spike grinned, kissing his way back to her mouth. “Can I take that as a yes?”
“Huh?”
“We continue the plan…but if we slip up, we go with it.”
She was quiet for a second—well, not quiet, but certainly without words. It took his teeth tugging playfully at her ear for words to return to her. “Uhhh…n-no. If we do that, you’ll just want to slip up all the time.”
“Well, yes. But fortunately, I know how to distinguish between what I want an’ the other thing.”
“Spike…”
“The damage is done. We might as well give in.”
“You were being so gentlemanly before.”
Spike’s fervor waned a bit at that, his guilt refreshed. Just a few minutes ago, he’d been determined to make her see that his interest in her wasn’t purely physical. Just minutes ago, he’d been contemplating what an arse he was for ruining what he’d given her last night with what he’d done tonight. But God, it was hard to remember what was best for her when she was whimpering against him. When she was thrusting her hips against his. When the rich scent of her arousal was floating around him.
“I’ll do what’s best for you, luv,” he murmured at last. “But I want you. Even if I’m not touching you, even if it’s only your hand that I get to hold, I’ll want you. The plan doesn’t change that. So, yeah. I guess I am jus’ trying to…” Spike’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he forced himself to step away from her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve asked it of—”
Spike would honestly never be able to say that Buffy couldn’t surprise him. The next thing he knew, she’d whimpered a complaint and launched herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and her hands tugging his mouth to hers.
“I never said I don’t mind you not being so gentlemanly,” she said, thrusting herself brazenly against his cock. “A-as long as it’s only…when we slip up.”
“Yes,” he gasped, kissing her desperately as he walked her back to the nearest piece of furniture. “When we slip up.”
They ended up in a rocker he’d lifted from the local furniture chain. Buffy tore at his fly as he lifted her skirt just enough to make her comfortable. Fuck, he loved her skirts. She should never be allowed to wear anything else.
“But only then,” she whispered, rubbing the head of his all-too-eager cock against her clit.
“Only then,” he agreed helplessly. “Now, Buffy. Need to be inside you now.”
She captured his lips in a fiery kiss and sank down, infusing his body in bliss.
It was as though he’d been wandering through the wilderness for a hundred years, searching for something he didn’t know he’d lost. Searching for something down broken paths and empty promises. Searching through darkness until she’d blinded him with light.
In all his life, he’d never felt so found. The knowledge was enough to make stars weep. After wandering so long, he was found.
And with Buffy’s help, he’d never be lost again.
To be continued