“You stupid vampire,” she growled as she advanced on him, dropping the stake from her hand as she went.
Before he could react, she grabbed his face with her hands and pulled his lips down to hers in a frantic kiss. Just like the first time she’d kissed him in the crypt after he’d dusted Dru, Spike was caught completely off-guard and just stood there for a moment, gobsmacked.
Her lips were hot and wet against his and her tongue pushed through into his mouth, demanding and lustful. Spike’s brain fizzled and sputtered. He tried to remember what it was they’d been arguing about, but he couldn’t. All he could feel was her body pressing against him and her mouth hungry and insistent on his.
His arms went around her, pulling her up to her toes and practically smashing her body against his. Buffy grunted out a breath of air when Spike turned them around and slammed her against the wall, never breaking the kiss. Spike’s tongue danced and curled around hers, just as frenzied and needful as Buffy’s.
The Slayer's hands fell from Spike’s face to his strong, bare shoulders and then down his hard torso. She found the button on his jeans and ripped it off, then pulled the zipper down in a rush of desire. Her hand was met with silky fabric that was now stretched to its breaking point. She growled in frustration against his lips and ripped with her hand, shredding the over-taxed fabric in one swift motion. Spike’s erection jumped free of the painful confines of the too-small shorts, and he moaned in relief.
Spike reached under her ass and picked her up. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, her mouth still hot, wet, and demanding against his. He turned them back around and carried her to the small bed where he’d spent the last – he didn’t really know how long – days? Weeks?
When he dropped her down on it, their lips finally separated. Buffy gasped for air even as she began stripping her shirt and bra off. Spike fumbled with the button on her jeans, his hands shaking slightly. He gave up trying to undo it and just ripped, popping the button and pulling all the teeth out of the zipper below it in one motion. Buffy squealed in surprise, but quickly began pushing them down as Spike tugged in a hungered frenzy to get her out of them.
As soon as one leg was free, Buffy yanked him forward, capturing his body with her legs and pulling him into her. Spike stumbled slightly, his own jeans still wrapped around both feet, but grabbed her hips to steady himself. Spike growled at her attempt to control him and pushed her legs up and out, nearly folding her in half as he leaned over her, his cock pressed against her slick, hot folds.
“I could hurt you,” he warned, his voice a low rumble against her ear.
“Yes,” Buffy breathed, her chest heaving with excitement and needful desire.
“What do you want from me, Slayer?” he asked, his body pressed down against hers, his hands controlling her legs, his cock hard against her mound, but not inside her warm, velvety sheath.
“The darkness … the light,” Buffy gasped out, tears welling in her eyes from the emotions building inside her. “Everything.”
“What does that mean?” he demanded, his voice vibrating against her skin like thunder.
“I want you. I want your love. I want your strength. I want … you beside me. I want … everything.”
“I’m a demon,” he reminded her. “I’ll always be a demon.”
“I want the demon too,” Buffy admitted, looking him in the eye. “Show me the demon, Spike.”
“The demon could kill you,” he warned, shifting into his vampire visage.
Buffy nodded. “It won’t.”
Spike looked into her eyes. He wanted to make sure she saw, really saw, the demon that was about to ravage her. Is that what she really wanted?
“What do you want from the demon?” he asked her, lowering his face so his mouth was near her neck, his voice still a growling rumble.
“The darkness.”
“What do you want from the demon this minute?” he demanded.
“Make love…”
“NO!” Spike interrupted her with an angry shout. “What do you want from the demon?”
Buffy swallowed. “Have sex…”
“NO!” he insisted again. “What do you want from the demon?”
Buffy’s chest heaved and she gasped for air. Her eyes clenched closed as if she didn’t want to see herself saying it. “Fuck me … make me burn.”
Spike nodded and pulled back to look at her. “Now, look at me and say it, Slayer.”
Buffy opened her eyes and looked into the eyes of Spike’s demon. She held his gaze for several long moments, looking deeper and longer than she’d ever allowed herself to look at a vampire before. And then, she saw it. It was only a flicker, but it was there just under the surface. It wasn’t just the man, it wasn’t just William that loved her, it was the demon too – she was sure of it.
Buffy swallowed again and ran a hand over the ridges of Spike’s brow, then traced the scar over his left eye gently with her fingertip. He could let her touch her own darkness, and oh how she longed for that, but he also had the light in him, the light of love, just as she’d known the first time they’d been together.
“Tell me, Slayer. Tell me what you want from me right now,” Spike prodded her.
What Buffy wanted right now was exactly what she’d told him before. She took a deep breath and said, “I want to drown in the darkness, Spike. I want you to fuck me … take me there.”
“Say it again.”
“Fuck me.”
“Again,” Spike demanded, his voice growing more feral, little more than a husky growl.
“Fuck me.”
“Again!” Spike exclaimed again, as he pulled back and began lining his hips up, nudging his hard shaft against her throbbing, wet channel.
“Fuck me!” Buffy demanded, lifting her hips up to him.
Buffy screamed out when Spike drove into her, slamming his cock into her hard and fast, filling her, stretching her. Her back arched up off the bed and a blissful dark mist flowed out from her core and wrapped around her entire body. Then he was thrusting into her harder and faster than she thought possible, crashing his pubic bone against her clit, grinding down on her with every savage, furious stroke.
The bed creaked and strained under the assault. Buffy heard someone shrieking with every pump of Spike’s hips and demanding that he fuck her harder. Who was that talking? It was her, she realized, momentarily horrified. But then she realized this was it … this is what she’d wanted, what she’d longed for. Someone that could allow her to be as dark as she wanted … or needed, to be.
“Don’t stop, Slayer … don’t hold back, let it go, tell me what you want,” Spike demanded of her as he pounded into her tight heat.
“Fuck me, Spike … Harder! God … yes! More! Give me more! Fuck, yes! Spike, yes! Yes!” she shrieked at him, clutching his ass and lifting her hips up to meet his.
Buffy’s nails dug into the globes of Spike’s ass, spurring him on, as if he were a racehorse and she his rider … his master. He redoubled his efforts, pressing her legs up and out even further. He slammed into her like a jackhammer, harder and faster with demonic, savage lust.
Waves of euphoria washed over Buffy, each one building on the last, growing higher and higher with each hard, demanding word that fell from her lips. Each of her commands for ‘more’, ‘harder’, ‘faster’ drove Spike wild with lust. His own demands joined hers, dripping like thick, dark molasses from his tongue and engulfing her. “Take it, Slayer!” he growled. “I can feel you … I can feel you cum. Feel what a demon can do to you. Do you feel it, Slayer?”
“Yes!” Buffy shrieked, her back arching as the waves of euphoria kept sweeping over her, one right on the heels of the last, never letting her fall back from the crest of the bliss.
“You want more?”
“Yes!”
“It’s yours … it’s all yours. How many times can you cum, Slayer?” Spike’s voice rumbled next to her ear.
Buffy shuddered under him as each wave of hot bliss rolled out from her core and crashed down on her. She’d never felt anything like it before. She was immersed in a giant, dark ocean of pleasure that she hoped was bottomless – endless. “More!”
“Tell me what you want!” Spike demanded.
“This?” Spike asked as he released his left hand from holding her right leg up and snaked it between them. He groped her tit hard, then pulled on her nipple, twisting the hard nub between his fingers.
Buffy wailed another ear-piercing scream and her sugar walls tightened and undulated around his cock even harder, pulling him deeper and deeper into her with every stroke.
“Yes!” she screamed as the pain and pleasure combined into something she’d never felt before. It was so much more than pleasure or pain – it burned and touched the deepest, darkest part of her. “More!” she demanded of him, now clutching wildly at his back and arms, digging deep, bloody gouges in his flesh.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, Slayer,” Spike thundered. “Make you scream until you can’t talk. Gonna make you cum harder than you’ve ever bloody dreamed,” he promised. “Gonna hurt you soooo good.”
Spike suddenly stopped pumping into her – completely stopped. Her anger and frustration was palpable. Just as she began to protest and demand he get back to what he’d been doing, he flipped her over on the bed, lifted her ass up so she was on her knees and elbows, and slammed his cock back into her slick hole.
Buffy’s back arched and her head flew back in renewed pleasure. Spike’s hands snaked around her and seemed to be everywhere at once. He was pinching and prodding her soft flesh one moment, then lavishing her with feather-soft caresses the next. His cock was pumping into her, but more slowly now, as he re-built the flames within her.
His mouth touched her back, raining kisses down on her heated flesh one moment and nibbling sharply with his human teeth the next. When his mouth came down, she never knew what to expect – pain or pleasure. The touches of his hands were also a mystery – they could be hard and demanding or soft and giving.
“Touch yourself, Buffy … show me what you want,” Spike commanded.
At first, Buffy didn’t understand. He was touching every inch of her it seemed. When she hesitated, he said, “Touch your pussy, Slayer … you aren’t done cumming. Finger yourself … show me, Buffy.”
Buffy shifted and brought her arm back down her body. She was at once mortified and turned on by his demand. Her chest heaved as all the sensations he was pouring over her jelled into something she’d never felt before. As if his cock fucking her with its rock-hardness wasn’t enough, he was, at the same time, making love to her skin. The trillions of excited nerve endings that covered her body tingled and tensed every time he touched her with his mouth and hands, never knowing what he would do next. Would it be pain or pleasure when he touched her? She wanted both … she wanted both at the same time. It was the most amazing thing she’d ever felt.
“Don’t think, Slayer – just feel. Do what you feel,” he admonished her, his voice less of a growl now and more like thick, sweet honey pouring over her.
Buffy’s upper body collapsed down onto her chest and shoulders, and she slid her arm back under her. Her hand reached between her legs and she fondled her clit as Spike thrust into her. She alternated between soft, teasing brushes of her fingernails and hard, demanding jolts with her fingertips as the waves of euphoric bliss built higher and higher again.
Buffy’s slit was slick and wet, and her fingers were covered in her juices instantly. She reached farther and felt Spike’s cock sliding in and out of her. She let her fingers linger there, gliding over his hard shaft as he pulled out and pushed back in. She closed her eyes, and a vision of his cock pumping into her flashed across her mind. Spike kept the steady rhythm going, pulling nearly out before pressing in again, and the mental picture made her pussy throb faster, every fine hair on her body prickle to attention, and her skin tingle with pleasure.
Buffy reached further and grasped his balls in her hand. Spike gasped as she raked her nails over them, giving him a taste of the pain/pleasure conundrum that he’d been lavishing on her. She felt his balls tighten under the pressure of her grasp and the motion of Spike’s hips became rough and jerky, as if he no longer had full control of them.
A deep moan rolled out of his throat as she fondled him, following his example – softly one moment and harder the next. Pain and pleasure.
“God, Buffy … gonna … oh fuck …” he moaned as he began slamming into her in earnest, unable to stop the cum boiling up from where she was mauling him.
One of Spike’s hands pressed between the arm she had reaching back through her legs and her body, and he found her clit with his fingers. There was no more gentle teasing; he slammed against it with his finger, sending bolts of electricity rocketing down her legs and up her spine. Buffy’s body jerked at the new sensation, and her hand tightened around his balls while her pussy trembled in ecstasy around his cock.
A thousand jolts of pleasure poured endlessly out from his fingers, pulsed through her clit, and completely engulfed her. The waves of bliss turned into hot molten lava washing over her, raising her up higher and higher. Spike’s hard, cool body against her back only seemed to add to the yin and yang of the moment. His hard, flat muscles against her soft curves; his cool skin against her overheated flesh; his low, deep rumbling moan against her high-pitched scream of pleasure. The only thing that wasn’t in opposition was what they both wanted to reach: deep, dark, bottomless nirvana.
Spike pounded into her harder and faster now, trying to hold his own explosion back, but knowing it was a lost cause. He wanted to feel her cum with him – hard. He wanted her to scream until she couldn’t talk. Fuck until she couldn’t walk; tremble with bliss under him. He wanted her to feel the pleasure of the pain. He wanted her to drown in the utter uninhibited darkness of the demon for hours. But she’d undone him.
Her body burned under him, threatening to dust him, as Spike lost control – of everything. His demon rose with no protest from the man and he lunged forward, her screams of bliss urging him on. His fangs sunk into the curve between her shoulder and her neck as his cum exploded in a blissful eruption, filling her with his essence even as he was filled with the fire of her blood.
Buffy’s scream intensified, tinged with pain, when Spike’s fangs pierced her skin. The initial pain gave way to indescribable pleasure, mirroring everything Spike had been doing to her body. She felt like she was being pulled in two directions at once. One part of her wanted to fight, to run, to get away; another part of her wanted to embrace the pain and fall headlong into the bottomless pool of dark pleasure. She struggled between the two, her body quivering and tensing beneath Spike, then she let go, allowed herself to just feel, and she fell.
She fell into the darkness. She felt Spike’s fangs invading her flesh just as his cock invaded her pussy and it felt … electric. She swirled around in the pool of bliss. It was at once hot and cold, shallow and deep, rough with crashing waves and smooth as glass. She dove down, swimming deeper and deeper into the heavenly pool of darkness. It flowed over her body like fiery, silken ice; embracing her with ecstasy, enfolding her, as if she were being held in the arms of a fallen angel – hellish and yet heavenly, all at once. She let it wash over her, hold her within its dark tendrils of flame, and engulf her body and mind with ebony black bliss. She felt the darkness seep into her very soul and her demon shuddered and gasped with the strength and beauty of it – he had done it. Spike had touched that deep, dark power inside her and left it sated ... and wanting more at the same time.
And then, suddenly, it was … gone. The feeling was ripped away from her in an instant. She felt herself whirling back up from the deepest depths of pleasure, and was left aching and hungering for it to return.
Buffy opened her eyes and looked around. She was alone. She shook her head and tried to clear her scrambled thoughts and emotions. “Spike?” she called tentatively as she carefully turned over and slid her feet to the floor. Her legs wobbled and trembled as she tried to stand. She leaned on the mattress as she looked around the room for him, but he wasn’t there.
“Spike?” she called again as she pushed up and grabbed the wall for support. She made her way on trembling legs to the entrance that passed through the dining room, linking the living room and the kitchen. She looked both directions, but still didn’t see him.
“Ok … I am not losing my mind,” Buffy assured herself. Her clothes were on the floor and so were Spike’s. When had he gotten out of his jeans? When had her slacks come all the way off? She didn’t know, but there they were. And the shredded pink shorts were there, too. Buffy picked up her t-shirt and pulled it on before beginning her search for proof of her non-insanity, as if the spunk dripping down her thighs was not proof enough.
Buffy went into the kitchen, then into the living room – still nothing. “Ok, Spike – this is starting to be very not funny,” she called to the seemingly empty house.
She went back into the kitchen and started to look outside, but the back door was locked. Then she finally noticed the door to the basement was ajar.
“Spike?” she called, stepping onto the stairs leading down into the basement. She flicked the light on and made her way down. “Spike? Are you down here? What’s going on?”
Buffy got to the bottom of the stairs and looked around. She found him huddled against the wall near the washer and dryer, trying to make himself as small as possible.
“Spike! What happened? Are you alright?” she asked with concern as she moved over to him.
“No! Get away, Slayer! Don’t! Don’t touch me!” he exclaimed, covering his head with his arms and trying to scoot away from her when she approached.
“Spike! What is it? What’s wrong?” she demanded when he reached the corner and couldn’t move any further.
“Put it back, Buffy … gotta put it back,” he moaned, never looking up at her.
“What are you talking about?”
“The chip! Put it back! I … I … couldn’t stop. I … bit you!” he exclaimed, finally looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes.
Buffy laid a hand on her neck and it came back with a small amount of blood. “Spike, it’s barely bleeding. You didn’t hurt me … well … it hurt at first, but then …”
“That’s just it, innit? Hurts at first, then … it doesn’t. I could kill you and you’d just … let me. You’d welcome it and I …” Spike swallowed and dropped his face down onto his knees and covered his head with his arms and hands to hide his shame.
“Spike,” Buffy began softly, laying a hand on his arm as she knelt down next to him. “You didn’t hurt me. You … you did what you said you could do. You let me touch it … let my demon touch the darkness. My God … it was … I’ve never felt anything like it. You were right about it … about me, all along.”
Spike shook his head against his knees. “Put it back. Couldn’t … couldn’t stand it if I hurt ya, Buffy. Really … hurt you.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? I trust you, Spike. I trust that you know just how far…”
“NO!” he exclaimed, looking up at her with wild eyes. “Don’t trust me! I’m a monster! You … you taste too good. I’ll … the demon’ll … kill you, Buffy.”
Buffy shook her head slowly. “No, it won’t. You want to know why it won’t? Because we’re cut from the same cloth, you and me,” she told him. “Your demon and my demon … they’re two halves of the same whole. Same as our souls.”
Spike looked at her, unblinking, for a long time. “You’ve gone mad,” he informed her in a calm, matter-of-fact voice.
Buffy laughed lightly and shook her head again. “No, I haven’t. There’s a little bit of William’s soul in there,” she assured him, reaching out and touching his chest near his un-beating heart. “Can’t you feel it? I bet you can. You’ve pushed it back down for years … many, many years – you couldn’t show it to Dru. You had to be hard; you had to be Spike. But you can show it to me – you can show me William. I bet, if you were really truthful with yourself, you know it’s there.
“You told me I had a demon inside and I didn’t want to believe you – but you were right. Now, I’m telling you that you have a bit of William’s soul inside you and you don’t want to believe me – but I’m right,” Buffy explained, pulling her hand back from his chest and touching his face.
Spike swallowed hard as he stared into her eyes. “How do you know? Are you willin’ to bet your life on it? Dawn’s life? What if it’s not enough?”
“Spike, I’ve seen you change. I’ve seen you go from a killing machine to a … hero, a champion. I watched you dust Dru to save me and Dawn. I watched you take on a hell-god for us … and win. Do you really have to ask that? I believe in you, Spike.”
“It was the chip…” he argued.
“No, it wasn’t the damn chip. The chip started it; it got you close enough to me so that you could see inside – it got you close enough to fall in love, but it’s not the chip that keeps you from killing.
“If you wanted to kill us, you would’ve found a way – just like you did with Ben. You could’ve set a bomb in the Magic Box and blown us all up or hired those Taraka guys to take us out – but you haven’t done any of that,” Buffy pointed out.
“No, what keeps you from killing is you, Spike. You don’t need the chip now, all you need is your heart … and William’s soul,” she assured him, rolling one shoulder in a small shrug. “All you have to do is be you – be love’s bitch. Can’t you see it? Can’t you see how loving me has brought your tattered soul out of the dungeon and into the light?”
When Spike didn’t reply, Buffy forged on. “You just said it yourself, Spike. You couldn’t stand it if you hurt me … did you not hear your own words? And look at you … cowering down here, trying to get away because you were afraid of hurting me.
“You dared me to look at the darkness. I know it took a while, but I have … I’ve jumped right into the deep end. All my friends pretty much think I’ve lost my mind – but I don’t care, I know I’m right. Now I dare you, Spike. I dare you to look at the light. Look at the light inside you … look at that little tattered bit of soul in there and embrace it, let it out – trust it. Trust me,” Buffy admonished him gently.
She caressed his face with her thumb as her palm embraced his cheek. A tear leaked from his eye and smeared on his skin beneath her warmth.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaky and uncertain, his blue eyes searching hers for some kind of proof. What he saw was undeniable confidence in her eyes – unyielding belief. Belief in him. Belief that he could be the man that she wanted, that she needed. It was as close to proof as he was going to get.
Buffy gave him a soft smile and nodded, then dropped a gentle kiss on his lips in assurance. “I love you, Spike – all of you: the demon, the man, the dark, and the light.”
Spike let out a deep breath of air, allowing himself to relax slightly. “I love you so much, Buffy. I’d never … never …”
Buffy touched a finger to his lips, stopping him. “I know,” she assured him.
“I do have a bone to pick with you, though,” Buffy continued, moving her hand and resting it on his bare shoulder.
Spike furrowed his brow and tilted his head. “The bite? It shouldn’t scar…” he began.
Buffy shook her head. “No, not the bite. You didn’t keep your promise.”
“My promise?”
Buffy nodded solemnly. “You promised I wouldn’t be able to walk or talk, and I can still do both, buster. You owe me … big time.”
Spike smirked at her and a tide of relief washed over him. His heart was flooded with a remarkable feeling of sangfroid, utter calmness and surety. He didn’t know what it was – perhaps the way her eyes sparkled with mischief or the small quirk of a smile on her lips – but he was suddenly filled with the certainty that what Buffy had said about his soul was true. It was like he could feel it inside, glowing like a beacon in the dark, showing him that he was on the right path.
“Right. Reckon I better get on that, then,” he agreed in a serious tone as he started to stand up. “Wouldn’t want t’ let m' soul get tarnished by shirking my responsibilities.”
Buffy started to stand up at the same time, but before she could say anything more or take a step, Spike had hoisted her up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
Buffy shrieked in surprise as he draped her over his shoulder and started for the stairs. “Unhand me, you fiend!” she demanded in mock agitation, banging her fists lightly, and quite futilely, against his back.
“Let it never be said ole Spike don’t keep ‘is promises,” Spike informed her seriously. “How much time ‘ave we go ‘fore the bit gets home?”
“She’s with Willow and Tara – she can spend the night,” Buffy supplied, grinning.
“Well then, that’ll make a good start, yeah?”
Buffy’s laughter floated through the house as Spike carried her past their discarded clothes in the dining room and up the stairs to her room. He thought he’d never heard a more beautiful sound – a chorus of angels couldn’t have sounded any sweeter. It felt like a ray of bright, golden sun shining into his heart. The joy of it warmed him from the inside out, melting all his remaining fears and insecurities. Every drop of trepidation within him evaporated like the sunrise clearing the mist off a cool, mountain lake, leaving nothing but clear, blue skies.