Chapter Twenty
“I brought you a gift.” Angel held out the store paper bag and fought hard to forget all that he’d already seen that night. He nearly growled as Spike continued to eye the package suspiciously until Angel—completely losing his temper—thrust it violently under his nose and dropped it.
Spike caught it before it fell past his hips, glaring at his once mentor, now pain in the ass grandsire.
“Geez, Peaches, you really shouldn’t have.” And then he opened the bag and a set of clear plastic earplugs fell out.
Angel looked slightly embarrassed as he ignored Buffy’s spontaneous chortle and stared at his shoes. They look scuffed and God that annoyed him.
“Thought you should have them on you, be prepared. You never know when the baby will get frightened and there is nothing worse for a girl than for her father’s head exploding because she’s a little scared. Thought it better to ruin your image than scar the girl for life.”
“Wow, Angel. I never knew you could be so thoughtful.” Buffy collapsed against Spike’s side with an attack of the giggles, grateful at least the earplugs weren’t pink or Spike would have attacked him and left not enough Angel to get out the door.
“Didn’t they bloody well come in something a little cooler than clear? Black maybe?” Spike actually pouted, knowing his days as the Big Bad were irrevocably over.
Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist, giving him a reassuring hug and hoping he was attuned enough to get her drift.
“We were about to take Lia for a walk to go buy some of those.” A jerk of her head indicated the earplugs to Giles—the only one who would look at her, despite his obvious discomfort.
He gasped indignantly. “This is the Hellmouth, Buffy. I don’t think it wise that the Slayer take an infant for a stroll after dark. What would you do with her if something attacked you?”
Buffy looked thoughtful. “You know, I haven’t been able to patrol for a while. Maybe the two grandpappy’s could baby-sit while Spike and I go out and do some eradicating of the evil.”
Giles suddenly darted nervous looks between the blonde couple and the baby all packed up ready and waiting in her pram for an outing. “Er, I, yes, that would probably be the most responsible thing to do.” He nodded his consent reluctantly before slowly moving toward the baby, his gaze intent and filled with misgivings.
“Don’t show the tyke fear, Watcher. They’re like snakes. Show the slightest weakness and they’ll have it over you for life.” Spike smirked as Buffy shot him a dirty look.
“Really, Giles, she’s easy. And I’m sure Angel must know something about babies.” Buffy missed his pained look and grabbed Spike’s hand instead, dragging him forcefully from the room. They paused at the entry while Buffy stocked up on weapons, thrusting a stake or two into Spike’s hand and then gave him a lascivious leer before almost running out of the door.
“Whoa there, pet. What’s the hurry?”
Buffy came to a screaming halt, her newly enlarged breasts heaving as she looked at Spike in horror.
“Patrol, Spike. You know, privacy, big wide open spaces, no baby and no Giles to watch you pound my ass.”
He did the head tilt and Buffy felt herself swoon right there in Giles’s courtyard. And then the tongue curling behind the teeth thing and she felt like mush. Felt like her panties had just been lit on fire and if she didn’t get him inside her soon she was going to self-combust.
It was the look of awe in his eyes that stopped her rush of lusty thoughts. Not completely, but toned their urgency down enough for her to really look at him.
Spike.
The demon who’d been after her throat for the better part of two years. The one vampire who’d had chance after chance to kill her, and she him. Their being together was so unlikely, and yet they fit together in ways she could never have imagined fitting with other men she’d met. Parker? Couldn’t see him raising a baby. And that was so weird it didn’t even bear thinking about.
As for Angel? Images of him seeing her get off from behind suddenly got her hot, and not so much in the voyeuristic kind of way—but much more in the ‘I miss Spike and nooky’ kind of way.
Buffy let her eyes wander down his body, fixing intently on his bulging jeans and knowing that if they didn’t get somewhere soon and make with the wild monkey loving, she wouldn’t be answerable to anyone.
Spike was hers now—in ways she’d never even thought possible with other guys. Not with Angel, and certainly not with Parker. And the thought of Riley never really got off the ground. He seemed nice enough, a little peculiar, but nowhere near the calibre of Spike. The vampire felt like he was made for her, and Buffy relished every little part of her body that fit him like a special made to order perfect fit leather glove.
And it was beyond time that she showed him how perfect they were together.
Ten minutes later and Spike was showing Buffy another way they meshed together. He had her back, he said, and yet he so had her front too. He was everywhere around her, bouncing like Tigger on speed amongst the pack of vamps that thought they could get it over the Slayer after her too lengthy absence. Five vamps fluttered on the wind, Buffy keeping her mouth closed against the dust as best she could as she watched Spike exude excitement.
Gahhh, just seeing him tied to Giles’ chairs had made her see his hotness—despite her determination to keep that epiphany unacknowledged. Now to see how he thrived on the kill—and this time of his own kind—got her far hotter than any warm-up they’d had so far.
Barely even pausing to check for other threats, Buffy jumped him, her teeth latching onto his throat and biting hard as a hand almost ripped the buttons off his jeans in a white hot frenzy of lust. She needed to feel it in her hand, the thick pulsing desperation of his cock as he throbbed in her hand, all the while imagining how it would similarly throb inside her.
She ripped his tee straight down the middle, sharp teeth now claiming a nipple and nibbling as her tongue laved and worshipped his skin.
“Buffy, love? Slow down a little,” Spike panted out, but before he could get the words to sink past Buffy’s haze she’d sunk down hard on his cock. That sensation did it to him every time—the feeling of her pussy lips parting over the head of his cock, barely the tip submerged in her heat as he stretched her wide, and then the hard surge and she was down on him fully, squeezing and moaning out her pleasure and his torment.
“Oh baby,” Spike crooned as Buffy rode him, his hands finding her naked flesh underneath the short skirt that wisped around his hips. The cold of the ground cushioned him as Buffy gouged great fistfuls of turf on either side of his head. Spike watched as her face was tight in pleasure; little whimpers slipping passed her lips each time his cock struck serious internal gold.
Spike watched his woman bounce on his cock, a feeling of pure happiness flushing his skin. It was something so new that he’d almost forgotten his entire past, ready to catapult into this new existence with everything he had. Nearly forgotten—until a whiff of something so irritating had him suck in his cheeks in exasperation.
The silly bint just didn’t know when to pack her bags and get the hell out. And here he was thinking she’d grown a set when she flung him out of the lair and melted all his vinyl. If it was anyone but Harris who’d told that tale under a cloud of hysterical laughter, Spike would have been apt to forget about the chip and rip the bloody wanker’s head off anyway. But now she was here, and instead of infuriating him, Spike played it up. Groaned louder, tore through Buffy’s top to bury his face in succulent fleshy tits, moaned his mate’s name for everyone in any moderate vicinity to hear.
A combination of his pounding cock against her sensitive spot, his hands squeezing her breast tissue and his mouth sucking viciously on her nipple, sent her over the edge. Spike crowed while Buffy writhed desperately, screaming his name as her insides gushed around him, joined almost immediately by his own burst of euphoria.
Buffy collapsed against his chest, lovingly exhausted. Her sated giggle clashed with a frustrating whine and Buffy whipped her head up horrified as she tried to pull the tattered remains of her shirt together.
“Spikey, what the hell are you doing? You do know that’s the Slayer, right?” Harmony stood over them, her perfectly fashionable shoe—for anywhere but a graveyard—tapping angrily at them.
“Well, yeah,” he said as if talking to an idiot. “I only tried to kill her a heap of times. Think I know who she is.” And then he shot a self-indulgent smile simply bursting with love and satisfaction at the woman who still held pride of place around his cock. “She’s a bloody marvel, Harm. This ‘ere is my lady love, my companion for eternity.”
Spike couldn’t take his eyes off her as the truth of it finally sunk in. His lover for the rest of their lives. She’d accepted him, wanted him, taken him in a way that no other woman had. He’d been used his entire existence, but Buffy as Slayer was hardly likely to join herself to him forever if he didn’t mean something to her. The importance of it took his unneeded breath away.
“Got myself a family now, Harm. So bugger off.” And he dismissed her from his mind as easily as if she was suddenly dust, despite her still standing over the top of them, clinging for all she was worth to something she’d never really had.
“What do you mean, Blondie Bear? She still has a heartbeat. How can she be your eternal anything?”
Buffy glared at the pouting blond, feeling angry that her fun had been side-tracked.
“Would you just go?” she spat and then when Harmony looked ready to burst out of her fangs, Buffy started to undulate over Spike’s thickening cock, loving the feel of him as he stretched and slithered up and down inside her. Then, in hopes of really getting the message across, Buffy let go of her shirt, letting her breasts fall free and tipping her head back, breathing in the lust in the air that their sex created.
Both were unaware as Harmony moved angles, finding herself standing too close to Spike’s head as she goggled at Buffy’s breasts.
“No freaking way. She had a boob job. But Spikey, mine are real.” Harmony ripped her own shirt open, her overly abundant breasts spilling forth and shocking Spike so much he laughed hysterically.
Buffy slapped him as she grabbed up her discarded stake, jealousy making the fire in her eyes burn a dangerous heat.
“If you don’t get your skanky ass out of my sight in two seconds flat, the boobies you are so fond of will be nothing but dust mites. Capiche?”
Spike roared, his eyes blinking at Harmony’s tits as he jerked under Buffy, loving the friction and the bounce of her breasts. His fangs craved her and before either of the girls could react, Spike was sucking on sweet slayer ambrosia.
With a tortured wail, Harmony flounced off, face buried in her hands and her heavy breasts bobbing up and down.
Spike stared up at his goddess with a wealth of emotion swimming in suddenly watery eyes, his lips still cracked against a deluge of hysterical laughter. Her pussy tightened around him unexpectedly and he could see on Buffy’s face it hadn’t been intentional. One hard upthrust and they were both coming in amidst ecstatic screams and giggles.
As Buffy collapsed for the second time on his torso, Spike offered a sigh of thanks to whoever gave them such a gift as each other. And the little one that had so completely altered both their paths. He thought that some Powers were probably high on some serious drug intake, but whatever it was, Spike was grateful.
As he curled an arm around his Buffy and got busy to nibbling her lips, he determined to never let her go. He’d found bliss in the most unlikely place—the Hellmouth.
This world was bloody all right in his book.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Whoa! Long time no update. I apologise profusely and only offer the impending birth of my big bundle of joy sapping all my creativity as my excuse. Anyway, I'm hoping this chapter is okay and that you all still enjoy. Don't forget to review and smother me in love. It MIGHT help further updates along.