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Author's Chapter Notes:
I’m so very sorry for the lack of updates for this story but my muse absolutely refused to work on it until I finally realized what the problem was. Turns out we need a little plot (at the very least) and that I can’t write a short story to save my life, so now that I have decided on a direction and added a few more chapters to the story, hopefully I’ll be able to update it sooner (or as soon as my other WIPs allow).



Thank you very much for all your reviews, I really hope I didn’t lose all of you during my lengthy absence. And please know that I appreciate the time you take to leave me one, they really do help, especially with a muse as fickle as mine. *sighs*



A million thanks are not enough for my lovely Tina, who stayed up late with me last night cheering me on until I finished this damned chapter. Love you, darling! I truly don’t know what I’d do without you. Or for Beth and Deanna for their very helpful suggestions and edits, I truly appreciate your input. *hugglesquishes*
Like a gift from the heavens, it was easy to tell,
It was love from above, that could save me from hell,
She had fire in her soul it was easy to see,
And the devil himself could be pulled out of me
~ Into the Night (Carlos Santana)

Chapter 3. Into the Night

Before he knew it they were on her porch and the sweetest words he'd ever heard came from her mouth as she shyly said, “Come in, Spike.”

He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before following her into the house, still shell-shocked by the invite. He’d expected having to coax her into issuing it, looked forward to it even. Not that he wouldn’t take advantage of what she’d given him so freely anyway.

She barely had time to ‘eeep’ before he had her pushed against the door, claiming her mouth like a man starved. He bent his knees slightly, one hand traveling the length of her body, sensuously gliding down the smooth expanse of her leg and back up to tease the hem of her short skirt. His fingers caressed the inside of her thigh, brushing aside the dampened crotch of her panties to slide back and forth against her soft folds, moaning into her mouth when discovering just how wet she was for him.

She was killing him, slowly but surely setting him ablaze from deep within his chest like she was marking him, branding him as hers while her essence dripped over his eager fingers, causing him to forget everything, anything that wasn’t her.

Time ceased to exist. He only cared about this moment, about making the girl in his arms delirious with pleasure, wanting him just as much as he wanted her, craving him as he was beginning to crave her. Thoughts of them being mortal enemies, of him ever killing her, of how wrong this was even if it felt so right vanishing into thin air as he gave free reign to his desire for her.

Liquid fire, that’s what she was, her honey slowly seeping through his fingertips into his blood, burning a fiery path towards his undead heart.

Impatiently, desperate with the overwhelming need to feel nothing but her naked flesh beneath his fingertips, he yanked at her panties and with a twist of his wrist, ripped them clean off her body before throwing them aside.

Spike salivated as the delicious scent of her arousal finally flowed to his nostrils unimpeded, losing whatever amount of restraint he’d managed to exercise until then. Pulling his fingers out of her luscious quim, he smirked when she whimpered in protest before opening her slightly glazed green eyes and settled them on him, pouting slightly.

“Don’ worry, love,” he said, winking at her before bringing his digits up to his mouth and sucking them clean of her essence, moaning in pleasure as her flavor exploded on his taste buds. “Have no plans of leavin’ you wantin’, but I don’ see the need to let all this delicious honey go to waste, do you?”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide when she saw his intimate display, noticing how much he seemed to enjoy her taste; wider when he suddenly dropped to his knees and hoisted her leg over his shoulder; and even wider—if that was possible—when he dove into her with a muffled groan, licking her from top to bottom before latching onto her clit, nursing and nibbling on it.

Her head fell backwards, banging slightly against the door, her eyes closing as frissons of white hot desire coursed through her body and converged in her womb, coiling, tightening inside, making her long for something she couldn’t quite define or understand, but wanting it all the same. Wanting him to give it to her.

He seemed to want to consume her and by God she wanted him to, needed him to keep doing what he was doing until he’d swallowed every little bit of her she had to give, until he devoured her whole.

Her hands wound into his hair, pulling him closer while she moved her hips in tandem with his ministrations, mewling and panting and clinging to him, his touch reigniting, fanning the fire inside her as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

He slid two fingers into her opening, stretching her, preparing her. He almost lost more than his head as her inner walls clenched and spasmed around his digits, imagining just how it would feel when those heavenly muscles of hers strangled his cock, while she drenched it, baptized it, scorched it with her juices.

And Christ but those little sounds she made, the way she moved against him, the way she kept grinding her little cunny into his face, the way she tasted, smelled, bloody felt were driving him out of his mind with the need to sink his dick into her, to pierce through that tiny membrane that guarded her virginity and claim it for himself.

His tongue laved at her slit, up and down, circling her engorged nubbin, then pulling it between his lips and grazing it with his teeth, feeling it pulse as he pushed her closer to the point of no return.

She was close, so damn close to bloody paradise. He could sense it, feel it. She was tense, arching against his mouth, her snug channel trembling and quivering around his fingers, her heart galloping madly and her chest heaving as she fought for her every breath.

He switched then, his fingers rubbing her clit and his mouth lapping at her entrance, his tongue spearing inside as he tried to catch every single drop of the nectar now flowing freely from her scrumptious quim.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

“You didn’t have to, you know?”

Angel quirked an eyebrow in confusion at the lovely redhead’s words. “Didn’t have to, what exactly?”

“Walk me home. I would’ve been perfectly alright on my own.”

“I know you would.”

“Then, why? It doesn’t make sense,” she inquired. And it truly didn’t, at least not to her.

“Didn’t it occur to you I might want to spend time with you?”

She frowned. “No, not really.” Why would he want to spend time with boring little her? That made even less sense.

“Well, I do.” He smiled at how confused she appeared over his succinct responses. But frankly, he was having a great time with her. Even when they hadn’t been talking, the bouts of silence they’d fall into from time to time hadn’t been overbearing, both perfectly content to just be in the other’s company.

“B-but… why?”

“I just do.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I simply enjoy your company. I feel I can talk with you… or not talk, as the case might be.”

Willow truly didn’t want to let her hopes rise but when he said things like that, how could she not? He made her feel like she mattered, like she was important to someone. Not that her friends didn’t, but this was different. This was Angel, and she never expected him to tell her things that one said to someone they… dare she even think it, cared about?

“I-I… enjoy spending time with you, too,” she replied shyly, her cheeks suffusing with pink. Finding it difficult to keep holding his intense stare, she lowered her blue-green eyes to the wooden floorboards of her front porch, fascinated all of the sudden with how different each of them was in comparison to the other.

She bit her lower lip and tucked her hair behind her ear in a gesture that betrayed her nervousness and Angel fell for her just a bit little more.

Does she even realize how adorable she is? How drawn I am to her? Perhaps not, and if he were honest, that was one of the things about her that attracted him even more to her. She had no idea how alluring, how intoxicating he found her innocence, her candor, her vulnerability.

That she was so thoroughly unaware of her own worth.

The brunet was aware of it for them both, though. He was well aware of her body’s responses to his nearness, of the way her blood rushed inside her veins, of how much he wanted to say to hell with everything and steal a kiss from those delectable pink lips she kept chewing on.

He knew he shouldn’t. God, did he know. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to care enough not to lean down and do exactly that.

She must have somehow stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. That had to be the only plausible explanation for it, because there was no way that this was happening… was there?

And yet, even believing that, she couldn’t do anything but stand still, getting lost in the chocolate brown of his eyes as his face came closer and closer to hers. She could feel his cool breath tickling her mouth, his hands cupping her cheeks and tilting her head as he tenderly brushed his lips over hers once, twice.

His tongue peeked out to glide over her bottom lip, before dipping into her slightly parted mouth, engaging her tongue in a slow exploration of one another, learning each other’s flavor, their scent, the little sounds which erupted from their throats as they got lost in each other.

The soft, tentative caress ended almost as soon as it started, though, when the voice of reason—that niggling little voice in her head that kept reminding Willow that the man kissing her was for all intent and purposes her best friend’s boyfriend—demanded to be heard. It didn’t matter that Buffy might have hooked up with someone else tonight or that Angel kissing her felt better than anything else she’d experienced before. Nothing mattered other than she couldn’t do this, give in to this and still be able to live with herself. This was not who she was.

So she did the only thing she could think of. With a choked sob, she pushed Angel away from her with all her might, actually making him stumble due to the surprise, before rushing into her house and closing the door. She reclined against it as she tried to keep breathing through the pain her own actions caused her, slowly sliding down until she sat on the floor hugging her knees with her arms.

Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she replayed what just happened over and over in her head. She’d done the right thing, she kept repeating to herself as a mantra while she rocked back and forth. She’d done the right thing. She knew she had. But if she really knew she had, why was it that it hurt so damned much?

Angel wanted to tear the door down. He could hear her inside, crying her eyes out and wanted, needed to make it better. How? Well, that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t like he could barge into her home any time he wished, not without an invitation. And he doubted she’d just throw the door open and let him in no matter how much he begged her to.

He realized now he shouldn’t have given in to his impulses and kissed her. Technically he was dating her best friend, even if he was quite certain the blonde girl had to be as aware as he was that they truly didn’t work as a couple. Still, he needed to put an end to that before trying to start anything with Willow. It was only fair, for Willow, for Buffy and even for himself.

And yet he knew that given the chance to repeat this moment, he would do the same thing all over again. There was no way he could stop himself with Willow standing there in front of him looking so beautiful, chaste and unassuming, making him feel things he’d never felt in his two hundred plus years, not as a human and definitely not as a vampire, not even when he got his soul back.

There was no way he’d give up, no matter who tried to oppose to it, not even if it was Willow herself.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

Buffy tugged on Spike’s head, pulling him up to attack his mouth with hers, turning him until his back was to the door, molding herself to him, writhing against him, not even aware she wasn’t curbing her own strength or that Spike didn’t seem as fragile as other human boys with as lost in lust as she was.

But he noticed, and Christ if it didn’t turn him on even more than he already was when she acted like this. And that was saying a lot.

He knew damned well she was a virgin; that many of the things in which they’d indulged tonight—and the ones still to come—had been a first for her. However, knowing that he could make her hot enough for her to forget any reservations she might still have, well, there wasn’t anything like that, now was there? It was… exhilarating and he was about to burst in more ways than one.

He tasted different now. The uniqueness of his flavor blending with what she imagined had to be hers, and despite whatever prior beliefs she’d had to the contrary, it only heightened the experience for her to know she was sampling herself on his tongue.

Everything seemed sharper, brighter. Every nerve ending in her body raw, sensitized, making her hyper-aware of her surroundings, of him, of what he was doing to her body.

Without stopping their kiss, he twisted them around again, one of his hands softly skimming down her thigh, her calf—leaving goose bumps in its wake, making her shiver at the pleasure an action as simple as that brought her—bringing it up to wrap around his hip before repeating the action with her other leg, until both of them were firmly bound around his waist.

She felt his hard erection cradled between her thighs, the rough fabric of his denim jeans pressing against her bare pussy as he ground into her time and time again, making her burn and swell and ache for more, for him.

Spike realized he could have her here and now and she wouldn’t object. She was that far gone. However, this was not how he wanted it to happen. Be it the bloody Victorian gentleman still residing—very, very deeply—inside him or a misguided sense of, of whatever this girl elicited in him, he wanted this first time to be in her frilly, virginal bed. He decided not to give much thought as to why this was or why the bleeding hell was he thinking this might not be a one-time-only deal and began walking towards the staircase, trying not to drop his precious cargo on the way up.

Quite a feat that, what with said cargo deciding to torment him by nibbling on his jaw and throat while she kept grinding her sodden cunny against his rock-hard cock. She nipped on his jugular and he growled and stumbled in the middle of the stairs, almost deciding to say to hell with his gentlemanly ideas and just take her then and there.

Didn’t the girl know she was playing with fucking fire by doing things like that?

No, he answered that question himself, he knew she didn’t know. She had no bloody idea of what he was and while that in itself was somewhat odd, he wasn’t about to complain when it got him a hot and very willing Slayer in his, or rather her bed.

Spike somehow made it to the top of the stairs without embarrassing himself, since not even for a second did she stop with her ministrations and he managed to find her room without trouble, exhaling a relieved sigh after depositing her over the flower-patterned coverlet.

He took a few steps away from the bed and removed his duster, his red button-down and the black t-shirt, throwing them carelessly to the floor without taking his eyes off her for an instant.

Her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at every little bit of alabaster skin revealed to her greedy eyes. She licked her suddenly dry lips, thinking dreamily that the statues in her mother’s gallery were definitely put to shame compared to him. Her gaze traveled up and down the strong corded muscles of his arms, pecs and abs which appeared to be carved out of marble. There was not a single gram of excess fat in that body, and while lean, it was quite obvious he worked out.

“Like what you see, love?” he asked with a smirk, his hand caressing down his chest and abdomen until he reached the button of his jeans, making a show of unbuttoning it before sitting on the bed to pull his boots off, throwing her a smoldering look over his shoulder.

Oh yes, she sure did. Not that she could speak and tell him so at the moment, so she simply nodded, her eyes riveted to the way the muscles of his back rolled with each movement he made and she squirmed, pressing her legs together, needing the friction as her body responded to his teasing.

Crooking a finger at him when he turned back to her, she beckoned him, the blazing green depths promising him paradise as he neared her, prowling over her body, his fingers sliding over her tiny foot, taking one shoe off then the other, before gliding them up her calves and drawing them up over his shoulders to kiss the back of her knees and wink at her, then lowering them back to the bed and sitting on his haunches to admire her.

She made such a gorgeous picture laid out on her bed just waiting for him, that he swore he felt his undead heart clench in his chest. Her golden hair was mussed, spread over the pillow like a halo, her face flushed, her eyes bright with passion, her top still in place but not for bleeding long if he had his way, her skirt bunched around her hips and her sweet quim open and naked to his eyes. She was a bloody vision, an angel—his angel—and he had to have her now before he dusted from wanting her so much.

He managed to take off the offending top and her mini-skirt, throwing them to the floor to join his clothes while he basked in the glorious sight that was his blonde goddess in the nude.

“You’re so bloody beautiful, love. Take my breath away, you do.” And she truly did, who cared if he didn’t need air to live?

She started to feel self-conscious at his words, at the way he was staring at her—devouring her with eyes which appeared almost black, his pupils so dilated they only left a tiny sliver of blue from his irises—and she tried to cover her breasts with her hands, only to stop when he… did he just growl at her?

Buffy didn’t have time to ponder about that before he pounced on her, claiming her lips with his, his tongue entering the wet recesses of her mouth to dance with hers, making her forget all that wasn’t him, them.

He stopped kissing her to grab one of her hands in his, bringing it up to his mouth, kissing her palm before sliding it down his chest, feeling her tremble as he placed it over his jean-clad manhood, moving it up and down.

She was burning up, the wonderful sensations he provoked in her too overwhelming to worry about little technicalities like not knowing what the hell she was doing and instead, she just acted as her body craved, practically demanded her to do and so with a slight twist of her hips she switched their positions over the bed.

Spike gasped at the surprising turn of events, but he was definitely not bothered by it. To have her straddling him like this was a wet dream come true. His hands came to her hips to hold her in place. He loved that she overcame her shyness to take what she bloody wanted and could hardly wait to see what else she’d do now.

“You, mister, are a little overdressed, don’t you think?” she asked, pouting down at him while her hands found purchase on his abs, her fingertips gently skimming over his flesh, the stark contrast between her hot hands and his cold skin making her quiver.

“Yeah? I might be,” he shrugged. “What are you gonna do ‘bout it, kitten?”

She cocked her head to the side as she weighed in her options and then smiled devilishly at him, saying in a husky whisper, “Wouldn’t you love to know?”

It was his turn to shiver, that voice, that look. The young girl he met earlier that night was turning into a woman, a ravishing one at that, before his very eyes. And bloody hell but yeah, he’d love to know more than anything in this world.

Buffy wasn’t sure where all this bravado of hers was coming from and when he bucked slightly against her, hitting her in all the right places, she truly didn’t care. But he still had his jeans on and that wouldn’t do. She needed to feel all of him against her… right the hell now!

He almost swallowed his tongue when in a true display of Slayer speed she climbed off him, pulled his jeans down his legs and feet and then straddled him again before he had a chance to protest her absence.

“Now how do you like that?” she questioned, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Oh he fucking loved it, no question about it. Point in fact I’d jus’ have to show you how much, he thought, before turning them around again.

“Now how do you like that, sweetheart?” His cock was nestled against her slit, moving it to and fro, painting it with her juices, reveling in every new rush of desire that went through her while trying to remind himself he couldn’t just ram into her as he’d like, that he had to be patient. But Christ, she was making it so sodding difficult for him with all the little noises she kept making, the way she wriggled against him.

And suddenly he couldn’t wait any longer.

He gritted his teeth as his penis breached through her entrance, inch by agonizing inch, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he held on to his barely-fucking-hanging-by-a-thread control when her vaginal muscles clamped around him. Good Lord, he’d known she was tight, but this, this was… Fuck! His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he brought his forehead to rest against hers when he reached her barrier.

She felt… full, and while the feeling of having him inside her was slightly uncomfortable it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. He was so still, completely frozen and she needed, needed… more.

The blonde girl brought her legs higher up on Spike’s waist, her hands clinging to his shoulders as they looked in each other’s eyes and then without any indication of what she was planning to do, she arched into him at the same time she tightened her legs around him, pushing his hips down with her feet, crying as the movement made him tear through the virginal membrane that guarded her channel.

She closed her eyes in shock at the searing pain that coursed through her, a few tears escaping behind her closed lids as Spike kissed her cheeks, promising it’d be alright, telling her how wonderful it felt to be inside her, how beautiful she was until the pain lessened slightly.

Spike remained unmoving, his cock deeply embedded inside her as he tried to offer her some measure of comfort. She needed time to adjust to his size and he was well aware if tried to move right now he would lose any semblance of control he still managed to hold on to.

As it was, he was surprised it hadn’t shattered in to a million pieces yet. To be inside Buffy like this, God, to be her first and if he had any say in it, the only one who’d have the pleasure of having her like this, it was like nothing he’d ever bloody felt before.

His mouth fastened around her nipple, sucking on it, feeling how it hardened as he curled his tongue around the tiny bead, before doing the same with its twin. Over and over he did this until slowly, tentatively, she began moving against him, her actions drawing him further inside her with each pass.

She wanted more judging by her actions and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to give it to her in the way her body begged, but first things first. He had to make sure she was not in any pain before he let his demon out to take her as it wanted; to give her what she was craving.

He rocked against her, gradually increasing the tempo and strength of his thrusts. In and out, faster, harder, twisting his hips slightly, piercing her in a different angle every single time. And she clung to him fiercely, her nails scoring down his back, her walls constricting his cock every time he tried to pull out of her, pushing him back inside her heavenly quim.

Buffy couldn’t believe how amazing the sensations coursing through her felt. He was stretching her to the limit, making her feel… complete for the first time in her life. Liquid lava coursed through her veins, converging deep inside her as he kept pounding into her, shivers ran up and down her back as she hung on to him for dear life, trying her best to give as good as she got and if the way he kept babbling what a bloody goddess she was were any indication, she wasn’t doing that bad of a job.

She never expected it to be like this. Never expected to feel this much for someone she’d just met, to feel this kind of… connection. And yet, how could she not? She didn’t dare name what she felt, it was too soon, but it was there as deep inside her as he was now, deeper even, growing more and more with each passing moment.

Tiny beads of sweat glistened over her golden flesh making her glow, his eyes fixating on her mouth as she panted and mewled and moaned his name. He was drowning in the emerald depths; in the way she mirrored his ardor step by step, fanning the raging inferno of his passion for her, stirring all these emotions inside him he’d thought dead.

What had she bloody done to him? The thought of killing her now made him nauseous, the beast inside him raging in fury at the mere idea of snuffing her light. He didn’t want to off her; he wanted her to be his, to claim her, to make fucking certain no one ever touched her like he was touching her now.

His eyes changed from deep midnight blue to blazing amber, his demon closer to the surface with every glide of his cock into her snug channel, with every flutter of her walls around him, with the way her eyes widened with each bolt of desire that went through her, her hands charting up and down his body as his fingers dug into her hips pulling her forcibly against him.

He inhaled deeply then, for the first time since he broke inside her virginal body, the aroma of her arousal mixing enticingly with that of her virgin blood and that was his damnation. His demon went insane at the first whiff of it filling his nostrils, demanding to be freed from its prison and Spike was unable to stop him from emerging, his fangs tickling his gums, his features changing.

She could barely believe her eyes as his handsome face melted into that of a vampire, but was too lost in a haze of lust, her orgasm so close she could practically savor it, to care over its meaning at this precise moment.

His eyes zeroed in on the pulse point madly hammering in her throat and he lowered his face to it, licking then suckling at her skin bringing her blood to the surface, waiting for the right moment before striking.

He felt her pussy quiver and quake all around him, her inner muscles almost painfully milking his cock, her honey dripping all over it and he knew it was time.

His fangs pierced through the smooth skin of her neck, sucking once, twice, thrice, her powerful blood sliding down his throat before he pulled away and roaring the word that would irrevocably bind him to her as he fell down the precipice right along with her.

“Mine!”

tbc


Chapter End Notes:
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what I had planned when I originally started this story. However, muse wants what muse wants and I just can do much but comply to her wishes or she goes on strike and we don’t want that, do we? I hope you didn’t mind the new twist too much? And of course, if you want to tell me what you thought of the chapter, I’d love to know. *bats eyelashes*


Next in line to be updated is Against All Odds since the lovely Beth (dampersandspoons) made a wonderful banner for it and she wants more AAO. ;)



Have a lovely week!



Hugs,



Mari



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