Summary: What does a pissed off vamp do when he’s dragged to the Hellmouth when he’d rather be swanning around Europe? Why, he gets inventive in order to have fun with the Slayer of course.
Major major hugs and thanks to Holly for being a wonderful beta who keeps me enthused and believing in myself, and Tami for helping me make it through the day. You two have been invaluable these last two weeks during some of the crap that has evolved in my life.
“So why haven’t I…you know…had any more dreams with the First Slayer in them?”
“If I had to guess, pet, I’d say she got intimidated by our bloody brilliant shagging.”
That word always made her blush. Buffy couldn’t put a meaning behind why, but every time Spike referred to what they did in those terms, it made her want to hide behind her hair.
“So this claim thing. I really don’t get anything special with it?”
Spike looked at Buffy, all spread out on his sheets, looking flushed and satiated and it made his non-beating heart swell.
“What? You mean like a set of steak knives?” He chuckled at her weak swing at his nose, ducking so that her fist whizzed safely over his tousled curls.
“No, you big goof. I mean like super-powery things. Like, maybe some kind of ESP thing. Can’t I feel you?”
“Nope.” He grinned as he trailed a light finger down her neck and over her collarbone.
“So I can’t read your thoughts?”
“Nope.” He licked and nibbled over the collarbone as he made his leisurely way to her breast.
“Do I get better night vision? Some kind of weird protection because other vamps can sense your bite and suddenly know better than to bite me because of possible retribution from you?”
“Nope. Buggers won’t give a toss who you’ve been bitten by. Might just show them how easy it is to snag you.” He sucked in mouthfuls of her ripe flesh as his tongue circled her skin, searching for that little nub that had a flavour all its own.
Buffy tried hard to reign in her rising anger. Did Spike have to treat this whole claim thing like it was worth nothing at all?
“What about the ‘until death us do part’ thing? Will I live forever at your side?” For that she was at least hopeful. Now that she’d found him, it would really suck if this Glory person they were up against this year was the one to take her out. Besides, immortality but with all the perks of being human. Who could seriously thumb their nose at that?
“Now that one would be perfect, an’ we can look into it more. But as far as I know, no. Sorry.”
Frustration exploded in her head just as Spike found his target and gently bit down on her nipple, sending searing hot lust through her body to swell and swirl in her belly.
“Dammit, Spike,” she panted, determination to know the full extent of this thing pushing her through the pain of pleasure and into the miserable world of cliché. “What use was it then? Why bother if it means nothing?”
“Didn’t say it didn’t mean anything, pet.” Spike leaned up far enough so that he could stare intently into Buffy’s eyes and she was forced to see the naked feeling he couldn’t ever seem to close away from her. “It means that I love you. That I want to spend whatever time I have left in this miserable world with you—beside you. I want to fight with you and for you. I want to fall asleep with you every night after shagging you into unconsciousness. I want to be everything you need, everything you can love.” He paused, allowing the swell of emotion to take him over and take her in. “I want to be the man you deserve. That’s what it means, Buffy.”
“Oh.” How could she possibly argue with that? Buffy sighed, feeling the romantic inside Spike and falling for him even more. He always had the words—whether they were intended to get her hot or just heated. He could make her mad and yet instantly dying of lust with just the switch of words on his tongue. It was quite a gift, and she had him for good. “You know, you are so good at that.”
He looked surprised, like what she said wasn’t what he’d been expecting. It made her feel guiltily aware of what she’d neglected, and then worse when he gave her a smile just slightly less enthusiastic than it should have been.
“What’s that, luv?” He resumed with the teasing, his hands and lips almost making her sense dribble out her ears.
“With the…romantic stuff. I could never…say anything…so gorgeous…”
A puff of cool air was blown over a wet nipple and Buffy felt both it and her insides crimp up in agonised need for more. “Just say what you feel, baby. That’s all I want to hear.”
Buffy took a deep breath, her vision blurring as the sharp sting of fangs experimented with her breasts.
“I never thought you’d be someone I could love,” she began, aware exactly the second Spike paused what he was doing and squeezed her arm a little painfully in objection. “I thought that you were someone I could like, maybe be friends with, develop feelings for, but could never allow myself to take that final step with. I thought falling in love with you was something I had to have my friend’s approval to do, when really I didn’t. I have the power and the ability to think and feel exactly what I want, and love who I want. I want to love you. And you have no idea how much I do.” She finished off with a passionate kiss, almost pulling hair out of the roots to drag his lips to hers.
It wasn’t a sign of his inability to control himself when his cock slid home. Being joined was something neither of them seemed to take for granted, allowing it to be the marker that together things were perfect—warmer and more beautiful than they were when they were apart. Spike moved slowly, letting his hips set an identical rhythm to his tongue and concentrating on every sensation as it washed over him. The quiet moans of happiness tickled his ears, making him alert to her every sound of pleasure and pain—because even pain could be hot. The tightness of her legs around his hips and the heels of her feet digging into his ass emphasised the squeeze of her pussy around his cock, making him feel tightly wound and wholly loved. The heat of her passage clashed violently with the coolness he pumped into her, and that sensation alone was enough to make Spike see stars.
She kissed him in ways he’d never known a man could be kissed. With a fiery intent that blew his mind. She wanted him, all of him, and she wasn’t allowing any part of him to hide. When she located the sensitivities in his mouth and the demon burst forward, she acted like there was no difference, and finally Spike could see that, in Buffy’s eyes, there no longer was. He’d achieved what his poof of a grandsire hadn’t. He’d shown that love was soul-less as well as full. It was deep and fathomless and had no need of boundaries or conditions at all. And Buffy was teaching him that as fast as he was teaching it to her.
Long, slow strokes nearly drove Spike crazy, his urge to come almost painful to hold back. Buffy lifted her hips against his, her legs releasing a little of her strong grip to slide up and down his body, the satiny skin driving him mad. Her mouth was warm, wet and her lips plump and swollen. Spike knew he’d never tasted anything that had his blood wanting to pump through seized veins. When she yanked her head back to breathe, Spike took advantage of her throat, diving in to kiss and lick and suck on her flesh. He loved it when Buffy got so excited she lost coherency; loved it when her hands wandered and she lavished loving strokes over his muscles.
“I love you, Spike.” And she came with a cry against his cheek, tears of happiness making her eyes shine and making her even more beautiful.
The dream that had unlocked the secrets in his heart had brought him here, though not once along the journey had he thought it possible that his irrational dreams might be returned. He may have pursued Buffy—might have tried to change for her so that she might see him in a different light, might want to know him a little more than as her chipped enemy. But this—he’d longed for it but never really believed he had a chance.
Not only had he been given the chance, he’d been given the gift.