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Author's Chapter Notes:
I can’t thank you all enough for your very kind reviews. I’m delighted that you’re enjoying this story. Sorry it took me a little longer to post this chapter and it might take me even longer to reply to reviews and post the next chapter; however, one of my daughters caught a virus at the start of the week and now the other is sick, too. Tending to them is not too conducive to getting inspired to write and leaves me with little time for other things, add to that that my shoulder decided to act up today, which is the reason I have to beg for your forgiveness and patience in that regard. I promise to try to catch up in responding reviews between tomorrow and Monday. *sighs*


Thank you as well to Tina, Deanna and Carrie, for all your helpful edits and suggestions with this story. Muse is still pulling me in the direction she wants, but if it weren’t for the three of you I’d feel truly lost. *snuggles*


Last but not least, thank you to Carrie for nominating this story for Best Episode Stealer, Best Challenge Response and Best Buffy Characterisation and me for Best Author in Round 6 at the Spark and Burn Awards. Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me, honey! *wuggles*
Part 5

Spike helped Buffy to stand up, but remained crouched on the ground a little longer when he focused on how she was dressed for the first time this evening. He’d been too distracted by her pain and their encounter with the poncy git to notice before, but now… Bloody hell, now he was gob smacked by her luminescent beauty.

Sure, he’d noted she was beautiful. Had been half-hard from the moment he pulled her into his arms on the dance floor, even more so when he kissed her and then she showed him a glimpse of that Slayer power he’d sensed crackling under the surface by overpowering the sodding bane of his existence. Had felt how soft her skin was, how alluring her scent, how drawn he was to her, but it had been nothing more than fleeting, abstract thoughts. He’d been aware of the growing attraction he felt for her, but it hadn’t quite hit him until now.

This… this was different. This was him realizing she was a very desirable woman. This was him realizing he wouldn’t mind being her ‘boyfriend’, or even having to hang out with her little chums, as if he weren’t a creature of the night—one who’d taken great pride in killing two slayers prior to this day—if that’s indeed what it’d take to be with her.

His indigo gaze slowly raked over the mid-thigh length, form-fitting dress. Bloody brilliant, that’s what it was! Its deep wine color the perfect shade to accentuate her petite frame, her golden hair and skin, making her glow provocatively even under the dim illumination of the alley. Not to mention it showcased those long, toned, gorgeous legs of hers quite nicely, especially from his current position.

His eyes caressed her from her dainty feet encased in high heeled sandals, up her calves and the lovely portion of thigh her outfit revealed; taking in the way the fabric hugged her hips and enveloped her tiny waist, the way it clung to the perfect mounds his fingers itched to touch and his mouth salivated to taste. Up to the slender column of her neck and the soft, wavering smile that tugged at her lips and made her eyes twinkle and her flesh blush under his heated perusal.

Buffy wasn’t certain what had changed, but it was obvious something had. It was there in the azure depths for her to see, to touch, to drown in if she so chose. It was in the air, making it practically sizzle with static intensity. It was something that made her breath hitch in her throat, made her skin hum, turned her blood into molten lava. She felt more like a woman than she ever had. Older than her sixteen years and at the same time, way younger; made her feel things that scared the hell out of her yet made her want for more, made her yearn for something she couldn’t even grasp and froze her to the spot as she waited for his next move.

It didn’t take long.

He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, stalking her until he had her pressed between the wall and his hard chest. And still she could do little more than gape at him and shiver, not certain as to how to react to the predatory gleam in his eyes. She was confused, on edge, as she recognized the desire swirling in the bluer than blue depths, as she felt her body respond in a way it never had.

Had she ever felt like this before? As if she would die if he didn’t kiss her? No, came the resounding answer. Never. Not with Pike, Angel, or any of the few other guys she’d dated.

Buffy gasped and her eyes widened when the platinum blond vampire raised his hand to her face, his fingers feeling icy cold as they trailed over her flushed cheeks and yet, instead of cooling her flesh as she’d expected, it had quite the opposite effect.

Her breathing came in soft pants as his face came closer to hers, his gaze fixated on her mouth when the tip of her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. He groaned and the husky sound went straight to her core. She could feel something deep inside her, coiling, tightening, furling, making her burn with every look, every caress.

God, if this was what it felt like before he kissed her, what would happen when he did? It didn’t take long to discover the answer.

His mouth came crashing down on hers; unrelentingly coaxing her into fully participating as his teeth nipped on her bottom lip, his tongue tangling with hers in a dance that took her breath away.

Spike couldn’t get enough of the golden goddess in his arms. Her taste intoxicated him, the faint aroma of her growing arousal further inflaming his senses, the soft mewls, moans and gasps that his attention elicited drove him to distraction.

Buffy made him feel alive in more ways than the obvious. She made him feel as if he could touch the sun, as if there might be something left for him in this world after all.

She clung tightly to the lapels of his duster just as one of his hands buried itself in her hair, tilting her head slightly to the side to plunder her mouth from another angle. He was drunk off her flavor, from her response. His fingers skimmed along her collarbone, dancing over the luscious curve of her breast to her waist. His lips followed their downward path, settling on her throat to worry her pulse point with his tongue and teeth. The need to make her his, to claim her, was nearly overwhelming; his demon and the man he’d been long ago both wanting this girl, this woman for their own.

He wouldn’t, though. Not now or like this, at least. If they did this or rather, when they did this, he wanted her fully cognizant of what a claim entailed. He wanted her to be aware of what he was doing, to want it as much as he did. And he was confident that she would accept it, and him, eventually.

He had no bloody idea where this urge came from. Not even with Dru had he felt this nearly uncontrollable need to claim her, and he’d been with her for well over a century. He’d tried once or twice, but there were only so many times he could stand being rejected before shelving the idea in the deep recesses of his subconscious. At the time, it’d hurt like a bitch, but he was slowly coming to the realization that perhaps his Sire had been in the right all along. How else could he explain the pull towards a girl who by all rights should be his mortal enemy?

And why was he even fucking thinking of this when he had a warm and willing, pliant woman in his arms? One who was moaning and panting and had wound her hands around his neck to haul him closer at the same time she pressed her body against his. His mouth slid up to find hers, devouring her as he cupped her supple breast over her dress, his nimble fingers teasing her taut, rosy bud into a hardened little spear he craved to taste.

His other hand skimmed up and down her naked back, relishing in the heat of her skin against his, while thinking whoever made this scrap of cloth she called a dress was a fucking genius. He reveled in every tiny shiver he could feel wracking her frame, in every little mewl and cry she breathed into his mouth, in the way her tongue slid against his, demanding more from him, demanding it now. And he was more than eager to comply.

Buffy was adrift; lost in a haze of desire. Confusion faded fast in lieu of all the new sensations coursing through her body. She was ablaze, every nerve ending afire. Her panties were damp and she had to press her thighs hard against each other to release some of the pressure building in her center.

Suddenly, and before she could even think to protest, Spike pulled slightly away and lowered his head to capture a nipple with his mouth through her dress. Moaning deep in her throat, she arched her back, pushing her breast closer to him, feeling every pull, every suck, every nip all the way down to her clit.

He brought a hand down to her leg, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her dress and starting a nerve-wracking ascent up her thigh, while one of his insinuated itself between her knees, urging her to part them.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat when she felt his digits glide over the sodden fabric that covered her sex. Her knees nearly buckled under her when he slid them beneath the fabric, diving into her nether folds.

Up and down, down and up. Slowly, maddeningly so; teasing her, driving her crazy, making her jump out of her skin when his fingers finally made contact with her sensitized nubbin.

Bloody hell, but she was hot, scorching him, branding him with her creamy essence as it dripped into his waiting hand. She moaned his name and his mouth released her nipple to savor it from her lips.

She was so bleeding responsive and he couldn’t get enough of her. Mindless with lust, he pulled her leg up to wrap around his hip, opening her further to him as he rubbed his hardened prick against the soft flesh of her thigh. His fingers circled her clit, then her entrance; his index finger probing inside carefully, groaning loudly when her snug walls pulsed and contracted around it.

She was wet and tight and felt so bloody good as she squeezed the hell out of his digit at the same time her tongue swirled around his, her hips moving in tandem with the movement of his hand.

Then she was falling, plummeting, careening over the precipice; a hoarse, lusty Oh God, Spike rasping her throat as she found sweet release.

It took every ounce of self-control Spike possessed not to follow her into oblivion, disgrace himself like a sodding school boy on a first date when her juices drenched his hand, baptizing him with her come. His world tilted off its axis as he tumbled head over heels for the girl in his arms.

His Slayer.

tbc


Chapter End Notes:
I know it’s shorter than the other chapters, hope you can forgive me for that? *makes puppy dog eyes*


I’d love to know what you thought of the chapter if you’re inclined to telling me.



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