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It didn’t take long to get back to his crypt, but for Spike those were the most anxious minutes of his unlife. Even when Dru had almost lost her life at the hands of an angry mob in Prague, he hadn’t felt so worried. The Slayer’s prone form belied her inner strength. A strength which he’d been a victim of too many times. And yet now he silently prayed that inner fortitude would keep her safe.

“Don’t worry, pet,” he whispered to the unconscious blonde. “Ol’ Spike won’t let anything happen to you.”

As soon as he entered the crypt, he descended to the lower level with the Slayer still tucked safely against his chest, cradling her like a sick child. He laid her down on the bed, listening to her breathing as he watched over the young woman.

Spike could hear the air as it filled her lungs and then again as it left them, expelled in tiny shallow breaths. The blood beat steadily through her veins, coursing with power in her tiny body.

All of a sudden, as if by magic, her green eyes snapped open and Buffy locked her gaze with Spike’s, a luminous smile on her face.

“Is something wrong, Spikey?” Buffy asked, sensing his anxiety.

“Are you okay love?” he tentatively asked her. “You had a nasty turn out there in the graveyard.”

“Of course I’m fine, honey,” she responded cheerfully. “I’m with you so everything is just perfect.”

Spike frowned. It was true that the Slayer had been less of a bitch than usual to him in the last few days, although that wasn’t saying much, but she had never said anything like that since the pair of supernatural beings were under the influence of a witch’s spell.

“Uh, pet? Sure you’re alright?”

“Mhm,” she grinned, sitting up gingerly to test her strength. “I’m just peachy with a side of keen.”

The Slayer flashed him another beaming smile before pulling him down to her, nuzzling her face into the crook of his shoulder. Spike’s eyes widened exponentially at the gesture. Clearly the Slayer was missing more than her peachiness or her side of keen right now. If Buffy was in her right mind she wouldn’t be acting this way with him. In fact she would probably thrust a stake through his heart, or through some other vulnerable part of his anatomy, if he merely fantasized about her touching him like this.

And yet now her hot little hand was skimming over his chest and heading in a very southerly direction.

“Whoa there, Tiger!” Spike choked out, stilling her hand in spite of his burgeoning erection. It took all his strength not to give in. However, he was reluctant to be on the receiving end of a rampaging Slayer’s ire once she got her senses back.

“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked with a pout.

In spite of his soulless state, Spike felt a pang of guilt at the dejected expression on her face. “We can’t do this, Slayer.”

Buffy frowned. “Why not? We’re in love. We’re getting married and it’s not like we haven’t done it before. Not really seeing the problem here.”

Blinking rapidly, Spike’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re what now?”

“Oh silly vampire,” Buffy giggled girlishly. “You’re such a little prankster. Don’t tease me, honey. You know we’re getting married and yes, the engagement was sudden and okay I guess we planned to wait for the wedding night. But last night at my Mom’s place showed me just how amazing a lover you are.”

“Last night…” he mumbled, a feeling of foreboding settling in his gut.

Buffy thought that the night they’d shared together under the influence of the Will Be Done spell had only happened the previous night?

His brow furrowed as he studied her happy-go-lucky expression. His girl seemed so totally carefree and she hadn’t seemed that way in a long while. He missed that carefree innocence that she’d once possessed in abundance.

“And I need you again,” Buffy continued, oblivious to Spike’s musings. “God, Spike, no one’s ever made me feel that way before. You took me to places that I didn’t even know existed.”

Spike felt a little frisson of pride course through him at her words. Sure, it was rapidly becoming clear that his girl was under some kind of spell, possibly a memory spell, but he would like to think that her words still held truth to them. His mind flashed back to the night they’d spent together in her house on Revello Drive several months earlier and he couldn’t deny it had been one of the best nights of his entire existence.

Being buried deep inside of her warm, welcoming body had been almost a religious experience for the vampire.

Or it would have been if he wasn’t a demon and therefore pretty much allergic to all things religion related.

But nevertheless, there had been bells, whistles, and flashing lights as he made love to the girl. Every night he was haunted by the memories of the way she felt, the way she smelled, and the little noises that slipped from her bee-stung lips as she climaxed, her legs squeezing the unlife out of him. In hindsight, knowing that he loved her for real now, it made their one and only loving night together even more poignant.

They’d enjoyed a drunken night together only days earlier but that wasn’t the same. It was fraught with unbridled passion but it wasn’t the tender girl who’d adored him under Willow’s spell that he’d found in his bed.

Spellbound Buffy had truly loved him in a way he’d never even dreamed he could be loved.

And it made him feel whole.

And here was that Buffy again. The Buffy who loved and desired him, who wanted him despite his undead status. How could he truly resist that? Even if he ended up as dust afterward, the vampire was incredibly tempted to give in to her.

But a tiny annoying voice inside of him protested against that idea. This wasn’t like when they were both under the influence of Willow’s spell. Buffy was essentially out of her mind this time, but Spike knew exactly what he was doing. The vampire was totally aware that a sober, unspelled Buffy wouldn’t want this.

Or would she?

The Slayer had been becoming increasingly receptive to his advances recently. No longer did she look at him with abject disgust when he flashed his charms in her direction. Maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give in to the girl who was now crawling into his lap and using her tongue to do delicious things to his neck.

“What are you doing?” he gasped as her blunt teeth closed around the corded muscle of his neck.

“Want to play,” she giggled, fisting her hands in his T-shirt and tearing it open. “Need to feel you, taste you. Oh Spike! I want you so bad.”

His inner voice urged him to be strong. It tried to remind him of the potential dusty ending for him if he didn’t stop this right the fuck now. “Uh, no love we shouldn’t. I mean we really…fuck! Buffy…uh…” His eyes rolled back in his head as her tongue flicked over his nipple.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Spikey,” she moaned, fumbling with his zipper. And then her hand closed around his dick and that was when he lost all control.

Fuck having morals! That was for idiots and white hats. Spike had tried to be good but what man…dead or alive…could resist a Slayer who was looking at him like she wanted to devour him.

“Oh Spike, I can’t wait until we’re man…well vamp and wife. It’s going to be so wonderful my love.”

The vampire gave her an indulgent grin. It felt so good to have her fawning over him like this, even if it was just some kind of spell. He wouldn’t be surprised if the idiot witch had been meddling with magic again. Perhaps if he’d possessed a soul he would have felt guilty about enjoying her this way. But when love ran so deep and so strong it was hard to give it up.

And that was the moment he knew for sure. Buffy Summers wasn’t just in his heart. She was his heart. Somewhere along the way this tiny slip of a girl had become the center of his world and he’d be damned even more if he was going to let go of her. He’d tasted heaven and now he was an addict.

For so long he’d denied his feelings, pretending to himself that they were as a result of Willow’s spell or too many shots of whisky on an evening. But that wasn’t the case. Somewhere along the way, Buffy had wriggled into the center of his very being and taken over. She’d become his everything. He craved her touch, her scent, her taste. When she wasn’t close to him, he felt lost, like a part of him was missing.

During his time with Dru, he thought he’d known love. She’d rescued him from his mediocre existence and he was grateful to her for that. But what he felt for this little blonde American was so much more than he’d ever felt for his vampire sire.

Right now, even as her tongue was caressing his most sensitive parts, all he wanted to do was hold her, listen to the vibrant beat of her heart as he breathed in her sweet scent.

He pulled her up from her knees, not needing the sexual contact right now. He only needed to feel her nestled against him. This was the closest he’d felt to anyone in forever…literally.

“Don’t you want to play?” she asked with a pout.

“Got plenty of time for that later, pet,” he assured her, flashing his girl a cheeky smile and a wink that made her heart melt. “Just wanna hold your sexy little bod.”

With an exaggerated pout and a deep sigh, the blonde acquiesced and tucked him gently back into his pants. The vampire winced a little as his engorged cock strained against his zipper. But he knew that there really would be time for play at a later time. Oh, and the things he would do to her…

Spike swallowed hard as he felt himself swell even more. The man wasn’t exactly famed for his restraint. But as he buried his nose in his girl’s blonde mane, he knew that holding back now was worth it. And he absolutely, positively wasn’t doing this because he felt that annoying little niggle of guilt at the fact that the Slayer clearly wasn’t herself.

Because he was a vampire. With the grr and the bumpies and he was sure that one quarter of the Scourge of Europe wouldn’t feel guilt at taking advantage of the Slayer.

Even if he loved her.

Because weren’t vampires supposed to feel a selfish kind of love? Wasn’t that what the Watcher’s Council instilled into their charges?

And yet…

When Spike was with Buffy, it was no longer about what she could offer to him. It was about what he could give to her, how he could make her happy. The blond vampire hadn’t felt this much of a ponce since his human days when he’d been William the Bloody Awful Poet.

He clutched the little blonde even tighter to him.

He only wondered how he’d ever be able to let go once this spell wore off or was broken.

Buffy sighed in contentment as she reclined against Spike’s chest, her head tucked cozily into the crook of his shoulder. Immediately, the peroxide blond forgot any of his mildly disturbing thoughts and was pulled back into the moment.

“This is nice,” Buffy mumbled, a smile dancing on her lips.

Her partner nodded in agreement. It was nice. In fact, it was better than nice.

This was close to perfection.

Spike had dreamed of this moment so many times. Being able to be with Buffy when she was soft and welcoming and not kicking him in the head had merely been a pipe dream. But here she was.

The problem was that despite the wonder of having Buffy like this…it was tainted.

He hadn’t realized it at first, thinking that he could just enjoy this for what it was. And at first he’d been able to pretend that it was real.

But it wasn’t.

Buffy didn’t really know who she was, so this was merely a mirage. Well she knew she was the Slayer but love is such a defining quality that a belief in false love can re-determine someone’s fundamental essence. Her memories of everything that happened since Willow’s spell were gone. In fact, her whole outlook on life was altered. And that didn’t sit right with Spike.

As a soulless vampire he was supposed to be incapable of guilt. Wasn’t that the whole point of shedding your soul? And yet…somewhere deep within him flecks of guilt were needling him. He didn’t want to experience guilt.

He wanted to be free of his conscience, because in truth life was so much easier that way. Without the remorse over taking advantage of Buffy, he could just enjoy being here with her. Deep down he knew that he should put a stop to it, take her back to the Scoobies and let them do their detective bit to find out the cause of her memory loss.

But her hot little hand was closing over the shaft of his throbbing erection again. How was he supposed to think when she was doing that to him?

He glanced at her and couldn’t help but smile as he spotted the devilish twinkle in her eyes.

“What are you doing, you little minx?” he asked with a grin.

Buffy shuffled down until she was eye level with his pulsating cock and let her tongue trail casually up the turgid shaft. “Having myself a Spikey-flavored treat,” she replied with a mischievous twinkle sparkling in her eyes. “Don’t want to wait any longer.”

Spike knew he should protest once again. He should end this now and get her some help to reverse this spell. Otherwise it could only end with a stake lodging itself in his heart when the spell finally did end. However, when the hot cavern of her mouth enveloped the swollen head of his erection all rational thoughts fled from his mind. His eyes rolled up in his head and he gasped at the pleasure.

Her little pink tongue dipped into the small slit at the end of his penis and she licked up the pearl of pre-cum that she found there.

He’d spent all of twenty minutes trying to resist. But he was only a man. He wasn’t Superman. Who could stand firm against the attentions of this woman?

“Mmm,” she moaned, savoring the taste. “Spike, you taste so good! I love the way you taste, honey.”

The moan sent a vibration echoing through him, heightening his pleasure even further. When her hands wandered to his ball-sac and she started to caress it gently he wondered if it was actually possible for a vampire to dust from pure pleasure.

However, he couldn’t even conceive of how much more pleasure there was for him to receive.

Buffy took the whole eight inches of his dick into her mouth, suppressing her gag reflex as it hit the back of her throat. In spite of the reflexive tears that pooled in her eyes she swallowed around the thick member.

“God, pet. Yeah! Suck it like that,” he babbled in encouragement.

She pumped him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the end of the milky column of his dick. Occasionally she grazed him with her little white teeth too and the slight hint of pain just made it even better for the slightly masochistic vampire.

“Fuck!” he swore as she took him in even deeper and her throat muscles began to milk his length.

Her little tongue tickled the head of his cock, slipping between the tiny hole at the end of his throbbing organ. The action forced the vampire’s hips up off the bed, making him buck wildly. No one had ever given him this kind of pleasure before.

Back when he’d first been turned, sex had been all about domination and proving who was the alpha-vamp. It had also been about pain. Angelus, Dru, and Darla all had sadistic streaks in their blood that ran deep. Being the youngest member of the pack meant that Spike was so often the recipient of some of the worst kinds of sexual tortures. But he’d gotten used to it.

Once Angelus regained his soul and Darla abandoned him and Drusilla in favor of the Master, Spike had tried to introduce some tenderness into his lovemaking with his sire. However, Dru craved both receiving and giving the pain when it came to sex and any kind of gentleness was a rare event.

But with Buffy all those memories were washed away. Even though he knew it was manufactured by a spell gone awry, he could feel the love seeping through every touch. She was perfection and he already knew that he was so deeply in love that he never had a chance of getting out of this unscathed.

He was hers, whether she wanted him or not.

Luckily right now, she clearly wanted him. The desire that she felt for the vamp shone from her glittering green eyes. They were clouded with profound lust and he smiled at what a sex kitten his naughty little Slayer was proving to be. Even when they’d had their drunken tryst, she showed that she was insatiable in the bedroom.

The warm cavern of her mouth was taking him higher and higher and he didn’t think he would ever return to earth if she continued this way. He let out tiny moans that gradually transformed into full on groans and full body spasms as she played him like a virtuoso.

“Fuck, Slayer, you know all the right bloody spots to hit.” Spike groaned, surrendering to his desires.

“Don’t call me Slayer,” she chided him gently, nibbling at his shaft as she spoke. “Call me Buffy. Say it. Say my name, Spike.”

“Buffy,” he choked out. “God, Buffy! Fuck pet, you know how to make a bloke mad as a bloody hatter. That mouth…it’s perfection, love.”

He felt the pleasure course even more intensely through his veins, like tiny bolts of electricity flowing in place of his static blood. However, just as he was about to reach his peak, Buffy stopped dead, pulling away and collapsing to the ground.

Suddenly her eyes rolled up in her head and her violent seizures started to wrack her body.

“Buffy!” he yelled worriedly, but she continued to buck up into the air, her back rigid and her muscles tense. Foam spilled from the edges of her mouth and Spike’s worried notched up another level. If his heart had been able to beat, he knew it would be going at a million miles a minute right now. “Love, what’s wrong?”

Buffy didn’t answer.

She couldn’t answer.

Spike pulled on his own clothes in haste, and wrapped the Slayer in his duster, before scooping her into his arms. She was flailing in his grip and it took all of his effort to maintain a steady hold on the young woman.

Without another thought, he headed out into the velvet mask of night.

He needed some help. And he knew where to get it.


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