How he missed the sticky, velvety flavor of human blood, straight from the source. How beautiful it was when spiced with fear or passion. Of the two, he preferred the latter. Nothing could compare to sinking his teeth into a human at the height of their climax and drinking down the source of their life. He let out a wistful sigh and took another swallow of the wine.
He did believe there was probably one thing that could actually surpass the feeling of drinking a human during a passionate tryst. And that would be drinking a Slayer during a passionate tryst. Having his cock and his fangs buried in the sweet cunt and throat of a Slayer…of the Slayer…of Buffy.
The clash against his door sent his head spinning around only to see the girl herself appear. She looked mad, although that was just the patented ‘Buffy-look’ whenever she was around him. He wasn’t sure why that fact caused a nagging hurt within his chest.
She looked even better than usual today. The young woman was clad in a tight black leather bustier and a fitted red leather skirt. He idly noted the fact that she was wearing his two favorite colors to absolute perfection. Her blonde mane hung loosely in waves around her toned, tanned shoulders. She looked every inch the warrior that she truly was. However, no matter what she wore, Spike could vouch for the fact that she always looked better without any clothes at all.
“To what do I owe the displeasure, Slayer?” Spike asked, pushing down the thoughts of a naked Slayer, and adjusting the burgeoning bulge that was forming in his pants. He busied himself, setting the wine bottle on the ground and lighting up a cigarette. For some reason, he always felt the need to smoke around Buffy, mostly because he knew that it annoyed her. And he would never pass up a chance to rile the Slayer.
“Do I need a reason to be here, Spike?” she asked with an eye roll.
“Well…yeah,” the vampire responded, a little perplexed. “Unless you’ve gone barmy and you just wander into crypts aimlessly these days.”
Uncharacteristically the Slayer didn’t offer any nasty retort to his quip. Her strange behavior piqued Spike’s curiosity and he stood up from the chair and sauntered over to her.
“I…I’ve been thinking,” she said softly, almost shyly.
“About what?” he asked, standing only a few feet away from her.
“You shouldn’t stay in town,” she sighed. “There’s no reason for you to stick around. I really don’t need your help and the Initiative is gone now so there’s no way that you’re getting chipless anytime soon. So why don’t you leave?”
Spike frowned at her. He was so used to the Slayer demanding things from him or commanding him to do something that her softly spoken request fazed him.
“There some other reason you want me run out of town, pet?” he inquired, tucking his tongue behind his teeth and leering at the girl.
She raised her big green eyes to his cerulean ones and he saw the shine of tears in them. “You have to leave, Spike! Please!”
And then he knew exactly why she wanted him gone. Blondie was apparently feeling the exact same lustiness as he was. There was definite sparkage. Spike rolled his eyes at his reflective use of the Slayer’s terminology.
Every time he saw Buffy, it was getting increasingly difficult to forget the night they took each other to heaven. And she obviously felt the same. The Slayer was the queen of denial and she thought that if he was out of sight, then he really would be out of mind.
However, Spike had a lot more experience in those kinds of matters than Buffy did. And he knew. He knew that even if they weren’t around each other, they would still fill each other’s thoughts and hearts.
His blue eyes flickered to her lips. They were so plump and succulent. He wanted to yank her to him and kiss her breath away. The temptation was just too great to resist, like two magnets being pulled together by a force they couldn’t control. It was too much and it swallowed him whole. Before he could stop himself, he gave into the temptations that overwhelmed him, and grabbed her forearms, pulling her to him and sealing their lips together.
Buffy momentarily resisted Spike’s kiss but when he tongue wriggled between her parted lips, she melted into the kiss, responding with equal vigor.
“What are we doing?” she gasped, even as her little hands tore his T-shirt down the center so she could find access to the taut muscles of his torso.
“Makin’ love,” Spike replied. His eyes rolled back in his head as her fingers teased the small nubs of his nipples. For the blond vampire they were one of his primary erogenous zones and the barest stimulation of them could bring him to the brink.
“I want you to make love to me, right now!” she demanded, her hands straying to the buckle of his belt. She snapped it open and pulled down his zipper, freeing the engorged column of his cock. It was like a velvety rock, carved from the finest marble. As he hand closed around him her lips sealed themselves on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, little blunt teeth sinking harmlessly into his skin.
“Fuck Slayer!” he yelled, pleasure coursing through his veins. He grabbed her biceps pulling her even closer. “You should bloody know what sinkin’ those teeth in does to a vamp.”
Buffy pulled back and flashed him a sly smile. “And what does this do to you?” Before he could ask what she meant, Buffy removed her top and shimmied out of her skirt, leaving her standing only in her heels and underwear.
Spike felt all the moisture leave his mouth as he gawked at the vision in front of him. His erection swelled so much he thought it might actually burst. He couldn’t ever remember being this hard before.
“How do I look?” she asked coyly, whirling around.
“I-I…bloody fuck, but you’re a stunner, Slayer. I can’t wait to shag you senseless.”
“So why are you waiting?” she asked, eyes twinkling with mirth-tinged arousal.
She was right. Why was he waiting? He couldn’t wait another moment and tackled the Slayer, shoving her up against the rough stone wall and grinding his bare dick into her. With one fluid motion he ripped off her bra and panties, leaving her bare to his gaze.
Keeping his eyes pinned on her face, he ran his dick sensually over the wet folds of her cunt. He was elated to find that she was already so ready from him. He wasn’t surprised though. He vividly remembered just how responsive the Slayer had been during their passionate tryst when they were under Willow’s spell. “Tell me you want me, pet.”
“Oh! Oh, Spike!” she gasped, unable to annunciate her needs.
She bucked and writhed, trying to capture his dick with her wet hole, but he avoided plunging into her just yet. He needed to hear her tell him that she wanted him…that she needed him. The head of his cock collided with the swollen nub of her clit causing them both to cry out again.
Panting with lust, he choked out the request again. “Tell me you want me, Buffy. Bloody tell me!”
Finally finding her voice, Buffy locked her gaze with him. Her eyes were dancing with passion and need, but there was an edge of seriousness to them. “I want you, Spike. Make love to me. Please.”
Always happy to oblige a lady he slowly sank himself into her until he was fully seated within her heated channel. Dual moans filled the crypt and Spike had to rest his forehead against Buffy’s. He felt like his whole body had turned to jell-o at the feeling of being inside of her. She fitted him like a velvet glove, gripping him with her strong inner muscles.
“Gotta move, lamb,” he warned her, experimentally thrusting into her. Buffy cried out at the feeling of the tip of his cock connecting with her G-spot. She wrapped her legs around him more tightly, urging him to speed up his thrusts with contented little mewls.
Spike let out a mewl of his own when he felt the Slayer’s sharp nails rake a track down his back. He scented his own blood thanks to her little claws but it only added to the pleasure. As a vampire, pleasure infused with pain was the most delicious temptation.
“Bloody hell, love. You feel so good. You’re such a naughty little girl. Love shagging you, Buffy. God, I love the way you feel wrapped around me.” He lifted her higher, allowing him to penetrate her more deeply. “Yeah, that’s it baby. Fuck me back. Give it to me good, Slayer. Give me everything you got!”
He knew that he couldn’t take much more. She felt too good. Her moans, her scent, her skin…it was all overwhelming him. Realizing he was so close he reached down and twisted her clit between his fingers, sending her spiraling into an earth shattering climax. Seconds later he felt his balls tighten and he followed her down into the rabbit hole of pleasure.
“Fuck, I’m cummin’. God, Slayer! Fuck!”
“Oh, Spike! Yes, Spike. Never been like this…oh!”
Shudders wracked both their bodies as the ecstasy of their climaxes thoroughly engulfed them.
“I love you, Buffy,” he gasped as he spilled himself inside of her. “God, I love you so much!”
Spike’s eyes snapped open, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants.
It took him a moment to get his bearings and to realize that he was alone in his crypt. Cold spendings covered the insides of his thighs, and his softening cock lay flaccid against his cool skin.
It only took him a moment to realize that had all been a dream. Even though he could almost feel the warm imprint of the Slayer on his skin, none of it had been real. It was a fantasy conjured by his heart and mind. But something lingered…something real and tangible…his feelings.
I love you, Buffy. God, I love you so much!
Oh God!
He really did love the Slayer.
In that moment of perfect clarity he knew that he was in love with Buffy Summers.
No, he couldn’t be in love with her!
Obviously that was ridiculous. Spike was a vampire and she was the girl chosen to kill his kind. To love her would be like a rat falling in love with the exterminator. And that’s just how he felt. Like a rat in a wheel that the Powers manipulated. He couldn’t run that gauntlet again.
Loving someone who would never love him back just didn’t feature high on the list of things he ever wanted to repeat. As a human William had always found himself on the rejected end of romantic advances, and his relationship with Drusilla was always dominated by her overwhelming craving to be with her elusive Daddy.
Treading the path of pain wasn’t a venture he could embark on.
And yet…she’d wormed her way into the deepest recesses of his heart without him even noticing. Sneaky little bitch. Wasn’t this just like her? Always fucking up his plans, ever since he’d stepped onto Sunnydale soil almost three years earlier. She was there in every single part of his life, destroying him from the center outward.
This was just the proverbial cherry on the top of a very shitty cake.
What he needed right now was something to drink, something to beat and someone to fuck. Maybe a nice lady vamp would do the trick and get his mind firmly off the Slayer’s luscious little body. He could even dust her afterward and that way he’d be killing two birds with one stone. Not that it would actually help though. The memories were too strong. Even if he lived until the end of the world, he would never forget the way that Buffy’s lithe body moved underneath his in perfect sync.
God, now he really needed to beat up something.
With an animalistic roar, he leapt from the bed and smashed his hand into the stone wall of his crypt. Pain seared through his bones, radiating along the length of his arm. For a moment it helped him to forget the horror that was dominating his mind. But when the pain in his body started to recede, the pain in his heart returned.
As he watched the blood trickling down his injured hand, he barely noticed the crystalline tears trickling down his cheeks.