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Author's Chapter Notes:
I feel like I've already said this about a million times, but sorry for the wait, and please believe me, as long as I'm still alive and this story isn't finished, I'm still gonna keep adding to it...eventually.
Chapter 20

Buffy's mind was rapidly going over her options. Her mate had an important lesson to learn about just how far she was willing to let him dominate her. Unfortunately for her plans, he had her in a pretty submissive position and she was having technical difficulties with trying to figure out how to get out of it. She couldn't slam her head back into his face, seeing as how his face was currently buried in her neck, tearing the flesh as he tried to lay his claim on her again. She couldn't buck him off of her thanks to the way he had her hands spread out to her sides and was pressing her wrists harshly into the ground with all of his weight. Well, all of his weight that wasn't currently busy grinding into her ass. And how was it that the position he had her in and the way he was rubbing himself into her was both humiliating and a major turn on, all at once?

She seriously suspected that if she was ever granted the chance to slow down and just listen to herself think for the first time since being called to be the Slayer, she'd probably feel deeply disturbed at just how large her freak flag apparently was, and how merrily it waved in the slightest of breezes. Not that Spike was a slight breeze. He was hurricane force gales tearing through her life, her body, her soul, and Powers protect her, her heart.

Damn evil vampire, so had it coming to him if she could just figure out how to get herself out of this weak position and regain control.

"Mine!" he roared around his painful grip on her neck. "Say it dammit! Your mine!" he demanded. Buffy was starting to think there was no way she could regain the power in this particular confrontation but then she flashed back to the night before, when she'd been on her knees in front of him, his hand tangled in her hair and controlling her movements as he fucked her face. As demeaning as she'd always thought blow jobs were, she'd known last night, with his length sliding in and out of her mouth, nudging the back of her throat and compromising her ability to breathe, even with his hands taking control and moving her head at the pace he wanted, she'd still known that she was the one with the power. She was the one that could make him babble incoherent obscenities with a swirl of her tongue. She was the one who was making him whimper and moan when she swallowed around the thick head of his cock. It was her humming moans that wrenched a primal roar from the depths of his body as he shot his cool seed down her throat.

So maybe she didn't have to fight him to regain the power. Maybe she could convince him to give it to her…

She stopped her efforts to tuck her chin in and block his access to her neck, arching her head to the side and stretching the skin under his soft lips and sharp teeth and moaned softly, giving in momentarily to the heady mix of pleasure and pain caused by the harsh grip of his teeth and the long, slow, suctioning pulls on her veins. His grip relaxed slightly but perceptibly and the steady hard rhythm of him grinding and pushing and rubbing against her ass slowed a tiny bit. She pushed her ass up against him and increased the pressure on his swollen cock. He moaned and loosened his grip a little more. She slid her thighs apart allowing the strained crotch of his jeans to slip down and rub against her heated core. His bruising grip on her wrists released and he slid his hands up the bare skin of her arms, curling his heavy hands around her deceptively vulnerable shoulders. He began to circle his hips with a little twist on the down stroke. He was no longer mindlessly rubbing himself against her in search of his own pleasure. He still needed her to affirm the claim, but the fact that she was no longer struggling and was reciprocating his attentions instead calmed his demon down a little bit. She was acquiescing to him and that was what he needed. He released his hold on her ravaged neck and kissed the smooth, blood streaked skin beneath the ragged wound he'd given her. "Mine." he said softly, nuzzling his face into her orange and vanilla scented hair.

Knowing that his gentle attention wouldn't last long once he realized that she still had no intention of agreeing and saying the one little word he was trying to drag from her, she made her move, bucking into him and slamming her ass into his crotch, letting the motion travel up her body in a sinuous wave of violent intent and bucking him off of her back. Before he even had a chance to register the change in circumstances she had flipped her self over and was straddling him, with his arms pinned to his sides by her powerful thighs, her wet crotch resting against his heaving and bucking stomach. She wrapped her hand around his throat, knowing that cutting off his breathing would be no more than an annoyance to him, but using her weight to pin his head down and prevent him from gathering enough leverage raise his shoulders and buck her off.

He was growling and snarling, his demon infuriated at this unexpected turn of events, his body writhing and twisting and bucking ineffectively. She didn't bother trying to force him into holding still, merely slid her hips down so that she could rub her throbbing core against his thick erection and rode out the waves of his undulating body.

The rush of power she felt at having him in this position, under her control, combined with the friction between her legs pushed her quickly to the edge of sanity. She decided to use one of his evil powers of sexy on him and began talking. "Ooooh yeah, that's a good boy. Rub me just like that. Right there. Such a good little vampire, taking care of me this way. Feel so good rubbing your cock against my pussy. Can you feel how hot and wet I am?" she babbled stream of consciousness at him the way he did to her when she sucked him off. She could feel his arms twitching underneath her as he tried to free his hands, so he could grab her hips, pull her down onto him harder, massage her breasts, pinch her nipples, rip her pants off and fuck her till she passed out, but the grip she had on him with her thighs was too strong. He couldn't free himself. His demon snarled and gnashed his teeth, needing to assert his dominance of his mate. His beautiful, sexy, amazing mate who was dry humping him and pinching her own nipples through the thin material of her top. The wonderful woman whose passionate nature had called to him the first time he laid eyes on her dancing with her pals in the Bronze a year before. His sensual mate who was cumming on top of him right now, rubbing her center against him almost painfully as she cried out her fulfillment. The fight was momentarily stunned right out of him as he enjoyed the sight above him. Her head thrown back, hands squeezing her perky little tits, eyes scrunched shut and skin drawn tight over her euphoric expression, a light sheen of sweat covering the minimal amount of exposed skin.

He was so entranced by the sight that he completely forgot about regaining the dominant position and just enjoyed the view as he felt his own pleasure climbing higher and higher, seeking out that sharp peak of felicity. It felt so good that he didn't even care that he was about to cream in his jeans like some wet behind the ears young piece of vampire bait in the back of daddy's car, the only thing he cared about was the way she was rubbing her swollen core against him, rocking her body and screaming out her own ecstasy. Just when he felt the dull throbbing in his lower back that preceeded his own orgasm, she stopped all motion and lifted herself off of him. He looked at her, stunned by the sudden lack of friction and motion, a question glaring at her from his fierce eyes, his arms twitching violently as he tried to free himself from the grip of her thighs. How the hell could such slim, shapely thighs have so much power in them, anyway?

However the physics worked out, the fact of the matter was that he was trapped. His cock was throbbing on the edge of painfully denied release, aching for contact, friction, crying for release. Instead of granting him what he so desperately needed, his evil, torturous mate was hovering over him, denying him what he so desperately needed. When did she learn to lift one eyebrow like that? She leaned forward, holding her face over his and smirking down at him. Something warm splashed on his sharp cheekbone, and trickled down the side of his face and towards his ear, drawing his eyes to her ravaged throat. Guilt slammed into him, instantly overcome by worry. He had really torn into her and he was sure he had drunk heavily from her while he was trying to force her submission, and here she was, still heavily bleeding from the ragged wound he had inflicted on her. How the hell was she still conscious?

And how the hell was she taunting him?

"What's the matter, baby? Didn't you get your reward for taking such good care of me?" she asked him in a sing song voice. He jerked his arms, still determined to get free, although for different reasons now. His demon was still in control, but he was no longer worried about asserting his dominance. He was now worried about her and wanted to take care of her, needed to make up for hurting her. Although her grip was weaker, she was still strong enough to keep him under her control. She lowered her hips and rubbed against him, softly, briefly. His hips jerked up and a snarl erupted from his throat. She swayed slightly and her grip on him slackened even more as the endorphins from her orgasm wore away. He held still and waited for the inevitable. Her eyes glazed over and she slowly and gracefully slumped over him, giving in to the result of massive blood loss as she passed out. He extricated himself from underneath her and sat up, shifting her body gently so that he was cradling her in his arms. He leaned over her, licking the ragged wound and sealing it closed. It was not as easy as usual. This bite was wide and ragged and didn't close as easily as his other more cautious bites.

After an agonizingly long handful of minutes, he was finally able to stop the bleeding and seal the wound. He was trying to assuage his own guilt, kissing her face and gently nuzzling her neck as he cradled her close and stood with her cradled bridal style in his arms, growling softly, ancient words of sorrow and devotion, adoration and reparation. She turned her head into his carresses, causing his unbeating heart to soar with relief. She would be okay! She had to be okay, he needed her. All of him needed her, needed to cherish and worship her, needed to dominate her, bend her to his wants, needed to submit to her needs and give her everything she desired. She was responding to him, however slightly, and he was sure she would be fine.

He was sure that he hadn't irreparably harmed the center of his universe. Until her heartbeat began to slow and started to stutter.


Chapter End Notes:
A/N: I know, I know! It's been way too long between updates. In my defense, RL decided to squat right over me and protect and defend my mind from anything that would aide in the updating process. Like time. Or inspiration. Death, illness, fighting, and mean ass kids have all been conspiring against me and I thought they had won, but in the last round, I got a fifth wind and rose to the occasion. Kind of. Sorry this chapter is so short, but RL, like I said, has been very stingy lately with the whole free time portion of the creative process.



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