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Chapter 2



His car was waiting at the curb. Well, the latest piece of machinery that he’d acquired in a game of cards only a month ago. It was a monstrosity of a vehicle but it got him where he wanted to go. A 1985 brown Monte Carlo that was once a beauty but now was barely holding on. Spike didn’t care. Everything in his life was barely holding on.

But maybe his luck was changing.

Buffy didn’t say a word until he put her back on her feet and opened the car door for her. She wrinkled her nose as she peered inside the car.

“Do you ever clean this piece of shit?” She asked before leaning over to grab some of the beer cans and fast food bags. They were handed to him with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged as an answer to her question then threw the trash on the ground. She sighed, and then gathered her skirt up before climbing in. He grinned as he shut the door after her. Things were changing for him. The Slayer was really going with him. He rounded the back of the car, flipped a bird at the crowd gathering at the top of the steps leading into the church, and practically sailed into his seat.

Buffy was crying by the time he turned the ignition on, but he ignored her for the moment. If she wanted out or for him to stop, she’d say something. Being shy around him wasn’t her strong point. After a moment she wiped at her face with the back of her hand as she looked around for something to dry her face with. He reached into the back seat and grabbed her purse to give to her.

“I was hoping you’d come with me,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. “Grabbed your suitcases out of the limo. They’re in the trunk.”

With a nod, she searched her bag for tissues then went about fixing her face as best she could in the moving car with only the moon for light. The shaking of her hand as she reapplied her powder let him know just how nervous she was. Running away from her wedding was a major step for someone who had spent the last several years being the good girl. He was just grateful there was still enough rebellion in her to get her to go with him.

“Where are we going?” She asked when he pulled onto the highway.

“Tijuana, Mexico.”

“Oh,” was all she said even though he knew she wanted to know why.

Spike laughed. “I have a house there.” There would be time later for explanations of how he ended up there. Of the money he’d taken from Wolfram and Hart before the building collapsed. Of the final moments when Angel was still alive. It would all come out when they needed to talk about it.

Going down a highway at ninety miles an hour in the middle of the night wasn’t the time or place. Or with a woman in a wedding dress. Buffy had pulled her veil off, tossing it in the back seat without a thought of whether it would survive back there. Now she was flipping radio channels without caring how he felt about it.

A song came blaring from the speakers that made him grit his teeth. Belinda Carlisle was singing about where the fuck heaven was. He couldn’t give a shit unless he was suddenly redeemed and he had a chance of not going to hell after all. Until then it didn’t matter. He flipped the channel to a soothing burst of AC/DC.

Buffy sighed.

“I guess our musical tastes differ,” she said.

“But we make beautiful music together,” he retorted with a grin flashed her way.

Ignoring his innuendo, Buffy reached over and changed the station back to Belinda. He tried not to get irritated. They were together. He should be happy. He forgot what he was trying to forget when her hand went to his thigh, the pink tipped fingers curling dangerously close to his crotch. He glanced down then over at her. She was still staring out the window. If that was what she wanted. He put her hand on his hardening cock. Okay, maybe heaven was a possibility. She squeezed it, just enough to send his long neglected libido into overdrive.

“Heaven is a place on earth,” Buffy whispered, scooting closer to him.

Spike decided his earlier assessment of heaven was just completely wrong. Buffy popped the button on his jean then pulled his zipper down to free his cock. It was standing at attention, elated that the Slayer was back in its life. With a smile she bent down until her mouth closed over it, sucking him into that wet heat until the tip touched the back of her throat. He moaned.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Spike said.

Not that she needed encouragement. Buffy’s tongue was swirling around the tip before following the vein along the underneath. He glanced down to watch for a second. Her hair was still in its fancy bindings with only a few curls falling down to her shoulders. He ran a hand down the pearls that held her dress closed along her back. It was made of satin with a lot of lace. It went all the way up to cover her neck. Someone was trying to hide her scars.

Buffy bit his cock. Not hard enough to really hurt but enough to make him pay attention to the blow job he was receiving. He rested his hand on the back of her neck while he arched up into her mouth. She swallowed, sucking on his shaft with a ferociousness that made him take a deep breath.

“Got the message, Slayer.”

He felt her smile before he received his reward. Her tongue flicked along the small space between his balls and the base of his cock. It was the most sensitive place on his body. Electrified pleasure darted through his system making him have to concentrate on the road. He leaned his head back against the seat. His eyes narrowing as she returned to licking him like a lollipop. Memories of other times between them flooded his senses. Sex was always better with Buffy. She brought out a submission in him that no one else had been able to achieve. It was because he loved her.

Now, she was with him. In defiance of everyone else in her life and that knowledge was mind blowing.

And cock blowing. It took him over the edge. It was a volcano. The heat seared his balls, forcing his cum through the small passage to explode into her mouth. She didn’t hesitate. She swallowed his essence with an enthusiasm that reminded him of a hungry dog. He expected her to smack her lips when she came up. She didn’t but she was wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

Spike cupped her neck, pulling her to him for a quick kiss. “I’m going to repay that favor as soon as I can.”

“Wasn’t a favor,” Buffy said, tucking him back in. “I needed to…kind of like reclaiming you.”

It was something he needed to do too, but he would wait until they reached home. He hoped that Buffy would like the small house that overlooked the ocean. It was a little dark but that was one of the reasons he’d picked it. He was settled there. In Mexico he could be inconspicuous. No one asked questions. Even about the blood he bought from the local butchers. They just assumed he was using it for religious rituals.

It had taken him two years to fix the place the way he wanted it. It was comfortable, not a showplace, and it suited him. There were books scattered about, piles of CDs next to the stereo, a fully stocked bar and a bed big enough for two. Needing to know it was really true, Spike tucked a curl behind Buffy’s ear. She was staring out the window again.

“You scared or making regrets?”

“Neither,” Buffy said. “I just feel free. You give me that freedom to be myself. It’s why I want to be with you.”

“Love you no matter what,” Spike said.

“I love you, too,” Buffy said.

“I know.”

“Ooh, if you’d denied it a second time I would have had to punch your nose.”

They laughed. Together.

~~~~~~

He actually carried her over the threshold. It was sweet, dopey and very romantic. The vampire sweeping the Slayer in a wedding dress off her feet in a gesture of love that she really appreciated. He did love her. Buffy had no doubts about it.

Spike set her down in a small entrance hall. He hesitated when she peeked around the corner into the living room. He was nervous she decided. Smiling, she took his hand, tugging him with her.

“Show me around,” Buffy said.

“This way then,” Spike said.

They crossed the hallway to the other side of the house. He pulled her along while she tried to take everything in. The simple furniture and the bold colors of the paintings that hung on the walls were as diverse as the personality of the vampire who had chosen them. She gasped when they stepped into the airy kitchen. There were French doors leading out onto a verandah. From there it was only a few steps to the Pacific Ocean.

“It’s beautiful, Spike.”

Buffy started to open the door but he tugged her away.

“Later,” he said. “There’s more to see.”

He was like a little boy eager to show off all the toys he got for Christmas. It was cute. And she thought him adorable for it. They toured the small dining room with a dark table that was in need of a good dusting. Why did a vampire care? She couldn’t see Spike actually sitting down to dinner…at least not by himself. Jealousy seared her at the thought that he might have someone else there. She tried put it away though. It was the past. She couldn’t say anything. Two different men had shared her bed since the last time she’d been with Spike.

Buffy could tell the living room was where Spike spent most of his time. The large leather sofa, a big screen television with appropriate toys attached, a desk in the corner with a computer taking center stage and a wall that was nothing but shelves filled with books. This was his haven.

She hugged him and felt some of the tension leave him. There was only one room to go. That filled her with anxiety. Yeah, she’d gone down on him in the car but that was her in control. This was his place; an actual home and not a hole in the wall that could make her feel superior to him. There was five years between them that they knew nothing of how they’d lived or survived. He was alive when he should have been dead. One day, maybe over a bottle of wine, they‘d discuss the years apart, but she didn’t want to right now. She just wanted to pretend that everything was a fairy tale. Her prince had rescued her and she wanted to bask in that.

“Anymore you want to show me?”

“Yeah, a lot,” Spike said. He pulled her back down the hallway to the rear of the house. The door to the bedroom was open. He stopped just outside so she would enter first. “The bedroom.”

“So, I see.”

This was the place he slept. A red comforter was just thrown over the bed that stood in the middle of the room. There were a lot of pillows scattered across the mattress. They created mounds beneath the covers. The walls were bare here and a lone dresser stood against one wall. On top of it were photos. She picked them up one by one, staring down at the pictures of Angel and Cordelia, her, Dawn and one of them with her mother. There was a picture of another woman with long brown hair and a quirky smile.

“That was Fred,” Spike said.

Buffy nodded. She’d heard of the fate of the young scientist. It was another loss for their side. Spike must have had feelings for her. She set the photo down with out saying another word, filing Fred under the topics to be discussed one day. Here, like in the kitchen, were doors that led out onto the verandah. Spike didn’t stop her this time when she stepped outside.

The night seemed to go on forever, stretching its inky blackness over the thundering ocean racing to shore. Buffy inhaled the scents that hung in the sultry air; the ocean, sweet flowers that grew in the front of the house, and the scent of the man who lived here. She felt intoxicated by the beauty, and her escape into paradise.

“Do you like it, Luv?”

“Very much,” Buffy said.

“Think you might want to stay here awhile?”

“Yes.”

Buffy returned to him. Hovering in another doorway, he waited for her. She slipped her arms around him and lifted her face. He smiled down at her before pressing his lips to hers. They had to relearn the texture and curves of the others mouth. A task of discovery that was more pleasure than chore. She loved the feel of him tracing her teeth, caressing her tongue before returning to explore the inside of her cheeks. Buffy could only hang on as he had his way with her. It was heady to be so wanted. Everyone else’s passion was lukewarm while Spike burned her very soul. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth, letting his tongue flick it.

“Tell me you love me,” Spike said, rubbing his nose against hers.

“I love you,” Buffy said, sensing déjà vu in his tone.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Very much so,” Buffy said, giving him the answer he wanted. She cupped his ass, pulling him closer to her. “Always.”

It seemed to be the answer he was looking for as he picked her up again. He strode to the bed and with a gentle touch put her down. She smiled up at him as she waited for his next move. Feeling sexy and adored, she teased him by running her finger down her chest then her belly. He chuckled and knelt between her feet. Raising one, he pulled her shoe off, dropping it off the side of the bed. His hands cupped her ankle before skimming over her leg. Her skirt was pushed higher by his exploration.

It was almost methodical, the bunching of her skirt around her waist, the precision accuracy of undoing her garter belt, the pulling of her panties down then the refastening of her stockings. Spike sniffed the white lace he’d taken from her before dropping them on the floor. It was erotic to watch the raw need on his face as he breathed in her essence. Buffy felt her body moisten in anticipation of what was to come.

They were going to be together again. In every way possible and it excited her. Until he opened his eyes to cast them over her, letting them linger between her legs, before meeting her own eyes. There wasn’t just desire in the blue depths. There was possessiveness and a triumph that made her nervous. He popped the buttons on his jeans, stroking his cock as he pulled it out. There was a sneer on his beautiful face as he came to lie on her.

Spike kissed her cheek, reaching down to position her legs so that he was cradled between them. She couldn’t move. Something inside of her was telling her that he’d changed. It wasn’t like before.

“Going to feel so good,” Spike said. “Make you feel it.”

Buffy gasped, closing her eyes, as her mind flew to the day he tried to rape her.

Spike positioned his cock at her entrance. It was barely inside of her, separating her folds. Her hands gripped his arms, unable to force words to make him stop from her mouth. It was too much, too soon, and she was suddenly scared by everything that was happening. If only she could say something, anything, but all she could do was lay there frozen beneath him.

“I’ve never fucked a bride before,” Spike said, cupping her breast. His thumb caressed her nipple, hardening it, forcing it further into his ministrations.

“Maybe it’ll be better than killing one,” Buffy said, without thought or emotion. It was just a paraphrase of what he once said about Slayers. Confusion sent her spiraling into a place of endless questions and no answers.

“I have no doubt if it’s with you,” Spike said, laughing. He’d missed her point. He didn’t notice the distance she was putting between them.

Emotionally she was shutting down but her body still wanted him as much as always. She arched her hips and he took it for the consent he was waiting for. He surged into her, filling her, and forcing a groan from her.

“You feel so good, pet,” Spike said, moving his hips so that he formed shallow thrusts. He waited until she was squirming with need before penetrating deep with hunger.

Tears fell down her cheeks. There was no love in this. It was fucking, getting off, and she felt alone. Like it didn’t matter who was beneath him as long as he was receiving the pleasure he wanted. A sob finally escaped from her. He stopped to stare in bewilderment at her.

“Buffy? What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?”

“I want you to love me,” Buffy said. “Please, I’m sorry for it all…just please don’t do this.”

“Oh, baby, I love you,” Spike cooed, caressing her with soft strokes. “Love you so much, so happy you’re here with me…making my dreams come true. Will you be mine?” He started moving within her again. Every word accompanied by a rain of kisses across her face and neck. “So, beautiful…hold me…yeah, that’s it…wrap those pretty legs of yours around me.”

It was all the right words and she tried to believe them. Tried to remember the night he’d just held her because she needed it. Her mind trailed off when his finger slipped between them to tease her clit. He started to rock in just that way that made her lose sense. He plunged deep within her, wiping out everyone else, taking her like no one else ever could. He knew every spot within her to make her weep with pleasure.

Eventually she forgot everything but what he was doing to her. She screamed his name as she found her climax and clawed his back when he came deep within her. No one else could do this to her and she knew she was lost to whatever he was willing to give her. Never again would she lose him. No matter how bad it got.


to be continued…





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