Delust or Dust by dampersandspoons

Chapter 5

Who knew making out with the slayer would be as fun as this?

She was giggling and cooing and raking her hands through his hair, nipping at his lips and grinding her pussy against his hand, begging for more. It was a far cry from the ridicule, the cool hands of his Drusilla, the odd requests mid-coitus, the beatings and torture and tying up and the scratching. Fuck, the scratching! Most times Spike didn’t mind because if his doll was happy then so was he and who would ever turn down a good whipping? However, he didn’t have much to compare it to, being a loyal sort of bloke who’d never cheat on the woman he loved, and so he hadn’t known the difference. He certainly did now, though, and he wasn’t about to delve any deeper in that train of thought.

Buffy was so warm, so soft, and her hair tickled his neck as she devoured his lips with sweet, innocent little kisses that were in danger of making a vampire giggle. He’d never been consumed with such warmth before and the thought of being inside her, surrounded with that heat was driving him insane.

“So hot,” he said, panting, his free hand traveling up her spine to tug the zipper down on her sundress. He slid a long finger inside her sopping hole and she gasped in surprise against his mouth, then her body sagged against him as she moaned.

“Want you,” she said desperately, dragging her hands down his chest until she reached the waistband of his jeans. “Please, Spike…don’t make me beg. Oh, God,” she said with a moan as he dragged his finger in and out of her and he bit his lip arrogantly as he watched her writhing in ecstasy.

“You want me, Slayer?”

“Please! Oh, please, Spike!”

Those were beautiful words. Gorgeous. Fuck, he shouldn’t be doing this. She’d kill him as soon as her mates figured out a way to release the spell on her. And it was the spell that was making her act this way, he was fairly certain. But he couldn’t resist testing her, couldn’t stop the questions that flooded his mind in case this might be real. And if it was, if the slayer was somehow in love with him…

Well.

But she wasn’t, so there was no sense in contemplating how to deal with it. What he should be doing is planning a quick escape once he was done with her – of course he’d finish this – because Buffy was going to murder him if Angel didn’t get to him first.

“What about Angel?” he murmured, right as he pressed his thumb on her clit and slipped his other hand behind the opening of her dress on her back, tickling her spine with a tender caress.

“Who?” She might faint if he kept that up and his lips were on hers again so she couldn’t really answer anyway. Oh, she loved his lips, his hands, his everything! How could he not believe her? How could he think a spell was responsible for the yearning in her heart and the burning in her loins?

Spike walked them towards the bed, still playing her body like a harp and dipping his tongue into her mouth, unable to stop from sampling everything he could. “You know who.” He pushed her down on the mattress, smiling wickedly as she gasped and looked at him with a flushed and excited expression. “The git you’ve held a torch for all these years.”

“We’re just friends now,” she said a little breathily.

He might have kept going with the interrogation if she hadn’t smiled at him, hadn’t raised her hands in the air, beckoning him to her with her hair fanned around her face and her white dress tumbling around her legs. It was the sort of image every man dreamed of, the sort of thing they didn’t talk about with other men unless they wanted to get laughed at, but it was an image that had haunted him for the better part of a century. A woman spread out before him, smiling at him sweetly and begging him forward so that she could love him. It was the sort of image that had inspired pages and pages of poetry that he hid from everyone he knew, even Dru, lest they start with the guffawing at his baser urges, the sort of image that made him miss his mum and sunshine and nice things. The sort of image that made him realize how unloved he actually was and that because he was evil, he would never know the feeling. He didn’t deserve it. And the bloody slayer of all people was the one to finally make his fantasy a reality.

Only it wasn’t real and he was really pissed off now that any of this had happened, that he’d lost his head long enough to get caught up in this ridiculous...whatever this was.

“Spike?” he heard Buffy say quietly behind him. He’d turned around during his internal battle, unable to keep looking at her laid out before him. “What’s wrong?”

He clenched his eyes shut, telling himself how stupid it was to be affected by her trembling voice because none of this meant a damn thing. “I’m too bloody sentimental, that’s what!” With a frustrated roar, he spun around and grabbed the first thing his hand came in contact with, which happened to be a soot-covered lamp, and threw it against the wall.

Buffy jumped as the lamp smashed. She was sitting up in an instant and looking him over. His body was tense and he’d started pacing, doing a fine job of ignoring her.

“Spike, tell me what’s wrong,” she said, firmly.

He froze, save his head which he slowly turned towards her and a dark shadow flitted over his eyes. She started panting. She knew that look all too well. It took all her strength not to whimper that it had to come to this.

“You’re what’s wrong,” he said lowly, his nostrils flaring a bit as he turned towards her and slowly prowled forward. “This is your fault!”

“Spike, I—”

“It’s just typical,” he spat and turned around again, his mind traveling elsewhere as he started pacing. Buffy sagged in relief that his focus had shifted away from murdering her for the time being. “I try to get her back and look what happens! I’m being punished over and over and she’s the one who...” he stopped to take a deep breath, his emotions getting the better of him. And then he laughed. “I was about to shag your brains out! I must be off my rocker!”

Her chin wobbled and she looked up at him. She instantly recalled the memory when Angelus had made fun of her talents as a lover and the thought of Spike, her alabaster prince, feeling the same way was simply tearing her heart in two. “Am I...am I that bad?”

“What? No, sweetheart.” He was kneeling before her in seconds, his chest burning at the sound of her insecurity, and he smoothed his hands over her hair. “You’re perfect. Beautiful. You’re…oh, bloody hell!” He stood abruptly again, his frustration more than evident as his jaw ticked and his muscles tensed.

Buffy’s shoulders shook as she started to cry and she looked at her folded hands in her lap and wondered why no one wanted her. Her cries grew louder and she tried to stifle them but it only resulted in making pathetic little sputtering noises that were currently making a vampire feel like an ass.

“Stop crying!” But it did nothing for his tact, however.

“You hate me!” She lifted her head and dragged her arm beneath her wet nose. “You hate me and I just want to love you, Spike!”

“Don’t say that! You don’t love me. That’s insane! Don’t you hear how insane that is?”

“Is loving you insane? Is that what you think, Spike?” she said softly and rose from the bed. It suddenly occurred to her that it wasn’t that Spike didn’t love her, it was that he didn’t think he deserved her! She took a step towards him, smiling shyly through her tears and said, “Do you think that you can’t be loved?”

He sighed through clenched teeth and looked at anything but her, ignoring her even as she stood inches away from him. She raised a hand to touch him and he batted it away.

“Will you stop?”

“I love you, Spike,” she whispered and tried to touch him again but he grabbed her by the wrists this time and she gasped.

He didn’t know how else to get through to her that she’d lost her sodding mind. It was the only thing he could think of that might bring her out of it. Because no way in hell would Buffy, spell or no, let him do what he was about to do. He let his demonic features emerge and he stared blatantly at her neck, giving her plenty of time to think it over.

But what she did next shocked him right out of his Doc Martens. She smiled and tilted her head, baring her throat to him. “Go ahead, Spike. I know you won’t kill me. I love you and everything I have is yours. Take it.”

It was so tempting. He could hear her pulse thrumming, pumping through her veins, practically taste the coppery tang of her blood, feel her power rushing into him while her life drifted away. He could be done with her. Suck her dry, bag his third and be king of the bloody mountain. She was offering it.

“You would really let me drink from you?” His features hadn’t changed back as the demon inside him howled and wailed and begged him to take her life. His tongue swept over one of his fangs as he grabbed her by the back of the neck, wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. But there wasn’t a stitch of fear he could detect, not a trace. She was still smiling at him.

“Yes.”

He hesitated for a second, and then he kissed her. She squealed in shock but soon she was moaning as he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He must have slipped back into his human visage because he was kissing her with tongue and she couldn’t feel a thing except the shooting bolts of electricity that traveled from her mouth to her crotch and suddenly her dress was gone and her back was against the wall.

“Fuck, Buffy...you’re...” He gulped, his blue eyes wide and hungry as they raked over the bits he could see with her smashed against the wall and then he was diving back to her mouth. Both of them were panting and moaning, letting their hands travel over one another and he felt her tiny hand fumble with the zipper on his jeans and he chuckled silkily.

“Shut up and help me,” she teased. Their foreheads pressed against one another as they both looked down between them, watching as Spike unzipped his jeans the rest of the way and pulled out his cock. “Holy...” Her head whipped up to meet his eyes and she glared at his smug grin.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he mumbled against her lips, unable to resist feeling them against his once more. He poised the tip of it at her entrance and he could already feel her warmth.

“Be gentle,” she whispered. “I’ve only done this once.”

“Oh, kitten,” he practically purred. He slid inside her so slowly, so gently he almost died as her slick, hot walls enveloped him but he’d make it good for her. Especially when she was looking at him like that, like this was the most amazing moment of her entire life, like she might cry. He had to look away from that, so he kissed her and pushed all the way inside. They were both moaning and taking a moment to adjust but soon he was sliding in and out of her at an easy pace and he didn’t think he’d ever be the same again after this.

“Spike, you feel so good...oh, God...”

Her hips were like liquid, moving fluidly against him, pulling him in deeper, molding him to her. She breathed against his ear and he lost control of himself, pounding her against the wall but she didn’t seem to mind. She was sighing and moaning like he was giving her a fucking back massage, so, if she was going to be that way about it... “You want it harder?”

“Yes.” She nodded, biting her lip shyly.

“My kind of girl.”

He spun her around so fast he made her dizzy and soon she was on her feet, bent forward and held up by the crook of her elbows and Spike slid into her from behind. He wasted no time in driving his cock into her hard, the grip on her arms causing her back to arch as he smacked into her. God, she’d never felt anything this amazing in her life, had never experienced anything so fierce and raw and erotic. Then he wove his hand into her hair and yanked her head back as he drove ever deeper. This was nothing like her first time. This was turbulent, stormy passion that made her feel liberation.

She was shouting his name, grunting and howling with every thrust and Spike was so fucking turned on that his knees started to shake so he wrapped his arms around her middle and walked them to the bed. She landed face-first into the mattress and giggled as he continued thrusting inside of her. He finally noticed and laughed too but she turned over onto her back and pulled him on top of her for a passionate kiss that made his toes curl.

He knew that slow and lazy swivels of his hips would just give her the wrong idea, whatever idea he had to be doing this in the first place, but she felt so amazing that he wanted to savor it. He’d never had the pleasure of kissing like this while shagging before. Dru was always too busy talking to the pixies or what all to ever let him in. She’d never touched him like this, never made those sweet noises into his mouth while he moved over her. Never made him feel like a man. This was dangerous, what he was doing, but if he was going to dust for his sins, so be it. It was almost worth it.

“I’m gonna...oh, Spike, I’m gonna come,” she said breathlessly, grinding her pelvis against his.

He shifted his weight a bit and angled his thrusts upwards, keeping his eyes focused on hers as he brought her over the edge. She fell apart beneath him, saying words she didn’t really mean, but every single one of them chiseled away at his resolve.

“I love you, oh Spike, I love you,” she cried, panting and arching beneath him as she found release. It wasn’t long before he was swallowing her words with his mouth against hers and coming inside her. She stroked his neck with her fingernails and trapped him with her thighs as he came and all he could think about was that no one had ever done that for him. He was enjoying this far too much, needed it even more. He waited just a moment, savored one more second of being inside her before he rolled over and stared at the ceiling, already missing her nearness.

“If you remember anything about this when the spell is broken, remember that I didn’t bite you. And I could have.”

He wouldn’t look at her and she felt the familiar prickling behind her eyes. “It’s not a spell.”

But he ignored what she said. “I could have killed you just then. Killed you earlier. Hell, I could do it now. But I won’t.” He sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, keeping his back to her. “So when you come looking to put a stake in me, just remember that. I think you should go.”

She was furious. How dare he think she’d ever kill him? She loved him! But she wasn’t going to sit here and take this crap, not after what had just happened between them. It was magical. Ethereal! The best moment of her life and he wasn’t going to ruin it. So she got off the bed and stomped in front of him to pick up her dress. She clumsily slid it over her body and scowled at him.

“When Drusilla shows up here and she starts professing her love to you, I hope you feel like a jerk.”

“She’s not coming.”

“Yes she is! Willow did a spell!”

He sighed. “Buffy—”

“Don’t Buffy me! You’ll see. You’ll see that I really love you and that you acted like a butthead and hurt my feelings and I made you bat Jell-o!” She inhaled a shaky breath as her chin started trembling for the millionth time that day. “Jell-o!”

“I know, and that was very, very thoughtful of you, but—”

“I hope you’ll be happy with your phony vampire lover because she doesn’t really love you, Spike! It’s fake, magicy love and what I have is real!” She stomped towards the door, sniffling.

He gritted his teeth in annoyance and stood up, pulling his jeans up and over his hips. “You’re wrong! Dru’s not coming here because the spell didn’t bloody work on her!”

“Yes it did! I bet you anything she’s on her way here, right now!”

* * * *

São Paulo, Brazil 6,000 miles away from Sunnydale

“Oh, Drusilla, please don’t hurt me!”

“I’ll make you bark like a dog. I like doggies.” Drusilla parted the slit of her long velvet dress and lifted one white leg to rest her bare foot on the demon’s shoulder that crouched before her, naked and tied up for her pleasure.

“Yes, Mistress! Anything you wish!”

“Ruff! Rrrrrruff!” she yelped, smiling in childish delight. The demon mimicked the dog sounds she was making and she cooed happily as she brought a whip down onto his back.

How she loved the sounds of a screaming man!

* * * *

“She’s not coming, you lunatic!”

Buffy spun around and her mouth dropped open, completely offended. “How dare you call me that word? I am not crazy! You’ll see who’s crazy when she gets here and let me tell you, she is a fine example of what crazy is!”

He agreed, but still, she was talking about Dru now and that was a bit of a sore spot. “Don’t talk of things you don’t know anything about!”

In a fit of childish anger, Buffy picked up the Tupperware she’d brought and angrily stuck her finger into each Jell-o bat and then dropped it on the ground.

“Oh, real nice!” he shouted.

“Jerk!”

“Bitch!” he shouted back.

She growled in frustration and quickly hoisted the door open and stormed out, slamming it shut behind her. He locked it quickly, cursing beneath his breath. He looked at the Tupperware bin on the ground. Though she’d ruined most of them, there was one bat-shaped treat that had a single hole through its heart where she’d stuck her finger in it like a stake. He fished it out of the plastic container and ate it in one bite, tilting his head appreciatively as he chewed. It was pretty good. Then he rolled his eyes and tossed the bin across the room.

“Wanker.” He pursed his lips and scratched the back of his head as he took in a deep, unneeded breath. He was about to walk back to the bed and have a kip when he heard the faint sound of Buffy’s voice calling out to him.

“I love you, Spike! I didn’t mean to call you a jerk! Ok, bye!”

He snorted and ran his hands down his face. He was going to kill Willow.

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