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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay. This is gonna be angsty. The good news is, there's nowhere to go but up
“Can I have you? she heard a soft voice whisper in her ear.



A voice that was tender and sinister all at once.



“No,” Buffy whimpered, as she lay under the covers. Her eyes were heavier than she could bear, yet deep sleep eluded her. She was halfway there, stuck between two worlds and belonging to neither.



“I’m yours,” she heard a husky voice say inside her head. A voice that sounded urgent with need. But a voice that shook with trepidation. “Take me.”



Whose voice was that? she wondered drowsily. A moment later she had her answer. Mine. It’s my voice. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. She’d never say that to another man. She’d never cheat on her William. Never.



Her eyes were closed. She could feel his breath warm on her face, then a soft pair of lips graze her mouth, experimentally. She froze. Those weren’t her husband’s lips. Whose lips were those? Alarm bells set off in her head. Those strange lips lingered on her mouth. Smacking softly.



“No,” she mumbled.



A moment later the lips felt insistent. And then almost with a hint of menace. And then she did the only thing she could do to defuse the tension. She kissed him back, again and again and again. As if trying to soothe his rage. Her hands were over his shoulders and running through his hair, trying to calm him down, reassuring him that she was his. Only his.



But it only stoked his passions and urged him on. Now his mouth had opened and his tongue was licking her lips, begging her to let him in. She had no choice. A moment later she opened her mouth and his tongue found hers. The tongues swirled about like two dancers, lapping and licking and sucking. They tongue kissed until they couldn’t breathe, separated to draw in breath and then kissed some more.



Buffy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was going to throw up.



“Fuck I love tasting you,” a voice rasped with undisguised glee. She opened her eyes to see him grinning at her.

Smile. Smile. Smile.



And then she was smiling and telling him she loved tasting him too.



Memories flashed quickly before her eyes. She was completely naked, her legs were over his shoulders, his mouth on her quim as his hands kneaded her breasts. Her weak protests had been pushed away. She had bitten her own mouth so hard that she could taste her own blood.



She was kneeling between his legs, looking up at him. He was stroking her hair, his lustful eyes urging her on. And then he watched her pleasure him with her mouth. He was always watching her.



And then he was on top of her. Inside her. Behind her. Thrusting away. Whispering in her ear, telling her how much he loved her. Telling her how beautiful she was. Telling her how much he loved fucking her. Demanding she tell him she loved him. Demanding she admit that she loved him fucking her. Demanding she scream his name.



And she had. She had done everything he asked of her. She had lied to him. And to herself. It was her only way of coping that night.



And then Buffy leant over the side of the bed, spilling out the remnants of her pathetic dinner. And she wept. Wept until she had no more grief left in her.



Chapter End Notes:
So how much do you guys hate me?



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