The Sweetest Sin by OKDeanna

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love."
--Sophocles

The package lay in the middle of her bed, its ornate wrapping skillfully smoothed to perfection. Buffy Summers didn’t have to think too hard on who might’ve left it; she knew. She wished she didn’t. But she knew.

Spike.

Her eyelids slipped closed, a harsh sigh escaping her lips.

Damn him. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?

So they had sex. Good sex. Great sex, even. It didn’t mean they had to be all…couple-y.

They weren’t a couple. They would never be a couple.

He wasn’t even human for God’s sake!

Okay, so maybe she had done the vampire thing before. It didn’t mean she planned on doing it again, and especially not with Spike. If it weren’t for the chip in his head, he’d be out there tonight terrorizing the innocent, more than willing to drain a few of them dry.

She couldn’t let herself get involved with him. Not seriously. Not even non-seriously.

It was a one time thing. That’s it. It wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. She couldn’t.

And yet, even as the thought filtered through her mind, her hand reached out to pick up the package, her fingers lightly grazing the small red bow that adorned one corner.

No way did he wrap this himself. He couldn’t have. It’s too…nice. Too…perfect.

She sighed again.

What harm could it do? It was just a gift. Some silly, harmless little trinket that he’d taken it upon himself to get. Probably stole it.

It didn’t mean anything. It could never mean anything. Not from him. Not ever from him.

Using the nail of her index finger, she carefully slid it along the bottom edge of the tape, easily releasing one side of the paper. She did the same thing on the other side and then, she cautiously pushed the contents out.

A small, flat, square-shaped black box fell onto the top of her mattress, its gold rim casting a quiet reflection from the lights above.

Jewelry. He’d bought her jewelry. Figured.

Wasn’t that just like a man? Or rather demon. Buy a pretty trinket, win the heart of a girl.

Angel had given her a necklace once. A beautiful, sterling silver, antique cross that she still sometimes wore at night. It always made her feel safe. Protected. Even when she knew that she wasn’t.

Spike’s gift could never measure up to that. No matter how hard he tried, nothing he gave her would ever replace what Angel had given before him. Not ever. Having decided that, she reached for the box, lifting it off the mattress and slowly raising the lid.

She gasped, startled by the sight of the beautiful heart-shaped locket nestled inside. Ten emeralds formed a crisscross pattern on the front, with a few rubies strewn inside each break for contrast. It was, in effect, absolutely breathtaking.

But that wasn’t the biggest shock. No. That came from the two images inside.

Her mother and Dawn.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes; she forcibly blinked them back.

Placing her finger on the faces, she vigilantly turned the locket over, already knowing there would be some type of engraving on it.

And, of course, there was.

Never forget that you are loved.

Tears rushed back to her eyes, and this time, Buffy let them fall.

Oh, Spike. How did you know I needed this?

* * *

Warm lips touched his mouth, the sweet, tender caress dragging his eyelids open from sleep. He blinked, certain the figure he saw could not be sitting there; she didn’t disappear, nor did she protest his arms coming around her waist, lifting and twisting her body till she was stretched out beneath him on the bed.

He moaned; she sighed, soft lips parting just enough to allow his tongue to slip through and dance the dance with hers. She met him stroke for stroke, moan for moan, her tiny hands fisting in his hair as if she couldn’t get enough.

One bare foot dragged across his calf, finally forcing the realness of the situation to his brain.

Buffy had come to him. To his bed. To his arms. Finally content to let him love her.

Why? What changed? What drove her to—

“No,” she whispered, a shaky palm cupping his cheek. “No thinking. Not tonight. Tonight just…feel, Spike. Just let us feel. Let me feel.”

Her hazel eyes were moist with tears, with fear and something else he couldn’t quite name. “Buffy, love, do you know—”

“I do,” she answered, placing a finger on his lips. “I want this, Spike. I want you. I need you. God, I need you so much.”

Need. Want. But not love. Not yet.

He glanced down, eyes catching on the locket settled between her breasts; his gaze shot back to her face. “Buffy?”

“I…” she paused, searchin’ his eyes and admitted, “I love the necklace, Spike. Thank you.”

He tilted his head, brow furrowing at the unexpected emotion in her tone. “Slayer?”

“Merry Christmas, William.”

He got it then. What she was offering. What she was gifting him with.

A chance. A chance to prove he was more than just a vampire. More than just a demon.

Spike nodded, throat clogging with the effort it took to form words. “Merry Christmas, pet.”

“Love me?”

“Till the soddin’ end.”

She smiled, brilliant while teeth shimmering in the dark. “Make love to me?”

“All I want, love. All I’ll ever want.”

* * *

Buffy was in heaven. No other word to describe how Spike was making her feel. His gentle, feather-light touches a stark contrast to the turbulent need building within her. “Spike, please,” she whispered, arching her back as his lips once again closed over her nipple. “I need…”

“I know what you need,” he finished softly, lifting his head to look into her eyes. “You need me inside you, don’t you, baby? You want me where it’s nice and warm and so bloody tight that you strangle me, yeah?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice enough to speak again. “Please,” she begged. “Do it. Do it now.”

He smirked, dropping a hand to her left leg, angling her calf across his hip as he settled himself more firmly between her thighs. The tip of his cock bounced along her opening; she keened in response, lifting her other leg to lock her ankles behind his back.

A possessive growl lit the air as her body reeled him in. It took Buffy a moment to realize the sound had come from her.

“Bloody hell,” Spike grounded out, sliding in all the way. “You’re even tighter than I remembered, love.”

She smiled at that, or tried to anyway. “It’s…only been a…couple of days.” She groaned as he pulled out only to thrust in again, hard. “Oh God. That feels…so good.”

“Admit it, pet. You like this. You like me fillin’ you up. Stretchin’ you to the hilt.”

She did and she might’ve actually told him had her orgasm not picked that moment to render her completely senseless. “Oh…”

“Give it to me, Buffy. Give it to me good.”

Her nails bit into his shoulders, scraping a path down his spine. She unlocked her legs from around his waist, fingers skipping to his buttocks. She fingered him once; he roared in response, face vamping, fangs descending, eyes glowing amber in the dark. She recognized the need, the passion, the hunger… and didn’t hesitate to offer her neck as sustenance. “Do it, Spike. I know you want to. Need to.”

“B-Buffy, I…” She fingered him again; his eyes flashed gold and his head dropped to her neck. “I’m sorry,” he growled out, sharp teeth piercing her skin, firm mouth suckling the twin marks he’d made until her body came apart in his arms.

She arched into him; he thrust once more, pelvis rubbing her clit and sending her into another spiraling, bone-melting orgasm. “Oh my God. Spike!”

“Buffy…” he rasped, yanking his teeth from her neck a split second before he came. “Love you, pet. Love you… so bloody much.”

* * *

Spike rolled over onto his back, taking Buffy with him. She surprised him by pillowing her head on his chest, hot breath rushing across his nipples with every pant. “That was… bleedin’ spectacular, pet.”

“Mmm,” she mumbled, tongue peeking out to flick his nipple once before she twisted her neck, sated hazel eyes shining up at him. “Does that mean you liked your present?”

Impish little vixen. “Cor, love. No need to fish for compliments. You know how I feel about you. Told you once. Got me by my bloody short hairs, you do. Be yours forever now.”

“Forever is a long time, Spike. You never know what might happen in it. You could wake up and find someone else to love tomorrow.”

He frowned, glaring up at her. “Are you daft? Have you not heard a bloody word I’ve said? I love you, Slayer. Don’t need anyone else. Don’t want anyone else. Jus’ you.”

“Not even Drusilla?”

His frown deepened. “Buffy, what is this? I make love to you and you get… insecure? I don’t—” He broke off as light dawned on him. “This is about the Poof, innit? You and he shared somethin’ once and you think because you and I shared somethin’ now, things between us’ll go the same way they did with him?”

He shook his head, disappointment slicing through him, and gently eased her off and away from him. “I’m not him, love. I’ll never be him.”

Spike got up from the bed, ignoring the temptation to console himself with the fresh bite marks on her neck. “I’ve got no soul, Buffy. But that doesn’t mean I’ve got no heart, no feelin’ in me at all. I do, pet. Got lots of it. Thought you’d ‘f realized that. What with you comin’ to me t’night. Beggin’ me to make love to you.”

“I didn’t beg,” she challenged hotly. “I so didn’t beg.”

He turned to look at her, eyes falling to the hand poised above the mark on her neck; he smirked, gaze lifting to her eyes. “You did ask, though, love. You asked me to make love to you. And I did. Wasn’t expectin’ you to love me back but…you did, didn’t you, pet? That’s what’s got you so spooked right now, innit?

“You made love to me jus’ as much as I made love to you. It bloody terrifies you, don’ it?”

Her lower lip wobbled; she averted her gaze, fingers reaching for and yanking the sheet up over her body. “Y-yes,” she admitted finally, after what seemed like forever but had to be only a couple short seconds. “I am terrified. Of you. Of this. H-happy now?”

Christ no, he wasn’t bloody happy! How could he be when she looked so dejected and miserable?

Because of him, his heart prodded. She was on the verge of tears because of him.

Soddin’ hell. The daft bint was gonna be the death of him one day.

Spike crossed the room again, taking her face between his palms. “I’m terrified, too, love. I’m not supposed to love you. I’m not supposed to soddin’ feel for you. For anyone. Not anyone human, at least. But I do, pet. I feel it. More’n I should. More’n I want sometimes.

“But it’s there, Buffy. The feelings. They’re all there. All the time. All I bloody see is you.”

Buffy blinked, tears slipping from her eyes. “What do you want from me, Spike? Do you want me to say it? To say the words? Would you even believe them right now?”

“I don’t need the words, love. Not yet. But someday…when you’re ready… Yeah, I s‘pose I wanna hear it. Hear them.”

She nodded, reaching up to cover one of his hands. “Then someday you will. When I’m ready, Spike.”

“When you’re ready, love. When you’re ready.”

Can you imagine us
Making love
The way you would feel
The first time that we touched

Can you think of it
The way I dream of it
I want you to see me
Like I’m seeing you

It's a picture of perfection
The vision of you and me

Your skin upon my skin
Would be the Sweetest Sin
…The Sweetest Sin


*song lyrics “The Sweetest Sin” by Jessica Simpson

A/N: Thank you to Dusty273 and Spikesredqueen for betaing this story for me.

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