Fanfiction: Blood Simple
She was amazed that she got to have another chance, although when she woke up, Faith was a different girl. Everything was immediately sharper - sight and sound and smell. And desire. That was sharper, too. She was still naked, in the same room where she’d died, and now she could see things she never saw before. A crack in the corner of the bedpost. A spider on the ceiling. A man in the chair who had most definitely not been there before. Familiar man. Vague sense of having seen him not so long ago.
“So,” Faith said, stretching her neck awkwardly and resisting the urge to put her hand to where he’d drained her. “Does this mean I call you Daddy?”
He chuffed out a cloud of smoke with a short little barking laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so,” he answered her. Didn’t move, though. Didn’t make any attempt to touch her. “Hungry, pet?”
“Starving,” she hissed and felt her face shift, melt into the face of her demon. She sat up straight on the bed, an arc of pain racing through her now that he’d called attention to her need for food. “Starving, starving, starving,” she chanted as she rolled to hands and knees and swayed over to him with the loose limbed crawl of a lioness.
He reached down beside him and tossed a heavy bundle onto the bed, stopping her in her tracks. It was the girl. She was awake. Bound with strips of the bedsheets. Gagged. Shaking, vulnerable. Terrified.
Delicious.
With a growl that felt like a purr to Faith, she fell upon the girl and ripped her to pieces. Her throat first, of course, gulping down the hot blood as it gushed out in slowly decreasing arcs. Then she tore into every piece of flesh that she had bruised earlier, biting and sucking, and eating and eating and eating. Faith looked up at her Sire with yellow eyes and a feral grin. Blood was all over her like a painted suit, shining and smelling like death. It was inside of her, too, singing in her veins, making her feel hot, making her want. She reached out a hand to the man who had made her into this wonderful dark thing, and he stared at it a few moments before he took it in his own. Catching her eyes with his own, he let his game face slip on as he brought her hand up to his mouth and slowly licked her fingers clean.
“What a pair we’ll make,” he whispered to her when her fingers were shining and alabaster. “What a wicked pair, luv.”
She smiled, and walked on her knees across the pieces of the girl she had fed on and then slipped off the bed onto the floor between his legs. She put her demon face against his chest and let it slide to his lap. She rubbed her ridged forehead against the hardness she found there. One of his hands dropped to her hair, which was sticky with the drying blood that had flown everywhere in her feeding. He stroked it, and let his head fall back on the cheap dirty fabric of the chair, and smoked while he stared at the ceiling. The smoke drifted, white as his hair, and he saw vague patterns in it.
His new scar ached vaguely in the way that healing flesh did. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and let his fingertips wander over the short raised ridge hidden in his hairline. The man who had removed his chip hadn’t been the most skilled of surgeons, but he had had the advantage of not knowing who the hell he was dealing with. The minute he’d put in the last stitch, Spike had decided to give the chip-free version of himself a trial run.
The doc might not have been skilled, but that first bite had been exquisite. His blood had been like a youth serum, better than any blood he ever tasted before. He’d had an erection the minute his teeth broke the skin and an orgasm before the body was drained. He’d killed three more people that very night. He felt like he was back to his old self again. Now he had some things to take care of. Some people who had taken him lightly when he was unable to behave in his natural ways were in for a rude awakening.
Faith was purring, her face still in his lap. Spike took a long drag from the cigarette and flicked it away to the corner of the room. It landed in a spot of carpet soaked with blood and went out with a hiss. He reached down with both hands and drew her face up to look at him. Her golden eyes blinked slowly once, twice, then with a small shudder, her human face was back. It was a lovely mask. He rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks and pushed his own demon down below.
“Let’s get you cleaned up. We have a little trip to make.” Spike led Faith to the tiny bathroom and she followed meekly behind.
Bound
The road stretched out in front of them, black on black in the night, the lines hovering like ghosts. The old car was full of the smells of smoke and blood and death. Times like these made Spike think that the night would never end, that they were destined, finally, to rule forever.
He spared a glance from the deserted road to the figure on the seat beside him. Lush dark hair, eyes like bitter chocolate, skin that shimmered. Naked as usual. Faith had little tolerance for clothes since her turning. This all suited Spike quite well.
She turned to him then, slow smile curling her lips. Tip of tongue darting out like a snake’s to moisten her mouth. Stretching those long long legs out in front on her and raising them to the dashboard. Head on knees now, body folded in half, still smiling at him with her wet and brazenly full lips. Faith could have been a statue made of marble, carved for the worship of young pagans in some long ago era.
He’d only taken her once since he’d turned her. After leading her to the bathroom of the dirty motel room, after standing her under the slightly rusty water to let the blood wash from her hair and skin, after she’d been clean on the outside, if not within. She’d stepped out of the shower to find him watching her with a look that she’d become accustomed to long before, when she was still human. It was lust, raw and dark, not a thing of tenderness. It was the mark of wanting to possess her.
Before she could open her mouth to say something, to acknowledge what was hanging in the air, he’d grabbed her by the hair and ground his mouth down on hers. His tongue thrust in between her lips and she parted them willingly. He tasted to her like smoke and she sucked him in further. He growled with pleasure and then released her abruptly. She staggered, nearly falling back into the tub, but his hand was on her shoulder suddenly, turning her around.
With a flash of deja-vu, she realized he was holding her now like he’d held her when he killed her, arm like an iron band around her chest, bare breasts just lying on his skin. She heard his zipper come down and he was kicking her legs apart and then he was inside of her with one push. She gasped at the feel of it, ice cold in her still warm core, and her face shifted to its true countenance. He was still dressed, she could feel the roughness of his jeans against her bare skin, the metal of the buttons hurting her as they dug into the tender flesh of her bottom.
Spike never said a word. Game face on from the moment he entered her, he just reveled in it all. The power over her, the mastery of her body, the tightness of her, the heat on his cold, hard cock. She’d lose the heat soon enough he knew - it was from the blood she’d just taken and from the shower. But for now, he was fucking her, hot and hard and in and in, deep as he wanted to go. Her breasts bounced against his arm as he pushed and he tightened his grip on her, lifting her up so that her toes barely brushed the wet tile floor. When her head fell back against his shoulder he, had her bare neck right where he wanted it. Soon, soon.
He lifted her a bit more, holding her now with his arm and his cock, and to his delight Faith growled and tried to grind herself down further on him. He gave her his other hand then, slipped the fingers between the mass of curls where he was already buried inside of her. He found her clit, swollen and pouting out from the dark nest as if seeking his touch. In his mind’s eye, it was the color of a plum, dark, ripe, luscious. His middle finger grazed it and she shrieked and shuddered. He nearly lost his grip at her reaction and his cock gave a huge throbbing jerk that he felt to his heels.
He backed up a step and pivoted, seating himself on the edge of the tub. He spread her legs over his own, white as moonlight over the black of his jeans. Now she was wide open to him and he could pleasure her at his leisure. Or not. Spike grinned with the demon’s face, and with a flexing of his hips drove his cock a little deeper inside of her.
Faith’s hands came down to rest on the one he had between her legs, urging him to stroke her there. She was writhing on his lap, impaled and trying to get more of him. Her hands pushed and she gave a little grunt when he allowed her to stoke herself with his fingers. Her muscles were flexing, holding him inside of her with a grip of satin over iron. Finally he released his hold from around her chest and let that hand come up to cup her breast, thumb running over the hard nipple, the aureola drawing in upon itself with taunt little waves and ridges from his coldness, her arousal. He tweaked the swelling tip gently once, then again hard and twisting. When the pain hit her, Faith whipped her head forward and back, the muscles in her cunt squeezing him so tight that he nearly went over the edge himself.
Slowly stroking her entire breast now with a hand that were gentle, Spike waited for Faith to relax her grip just a little. When that time finally arrived, the hand that was still resting between her legs began to move in languid motions to match the ones being lavished on her breast. He let her fall into the lull of the rhythm, up and down, brushing over and over, bringing Faith’s body to the heights in a slow but sure beat. Never stopping his pressure on her clit, he released her breast despite her small whimper of displeasure and used that hand instead to press her back against him until Faith’s head lay again on Spike’s shoulder and her neck was bared to him again.
“Oh, very nice, pet,” he crooned into her ear before his tongue swept over the curve of skin and muscle where neck joined shoulder. Then his teeth were in her, too and she was screaming this time and moving, and grinding herself down on his cock, pressing his hand against her swollen and tortured clit, and screaming and screaming and screaming.
Spike pulled his hand away from her with a violent jerk, and gripped her shoulders with both hands, holding her still. Her screams turned to growls of frustration as he fed from her and fucked her and made her insane with wanting both so badly. His hips jerked up into her with hard, sharp motions that were all about his needs, his desires, and his mouth was full of her blood. She quivered there on him, feeling a pull between the needs of her cunt and the needs of her demon. She wanted to fuck, to come, to get that climax that was being held back just out of her reach. And she wanted to feed. On Spike.
And he knew it. He knew it oh so well, that lovely pull of the blood finally taking over all others. More important than anything else, more important than any orgasm no matter how close it might be, nothing in the world like it. The siren’s song of it, the sight and the smell of it, the taste of it in your mouth, ruled every reaction of a vampire’s body, and if she learned to embrace it as he had … oh, the things he could show her. So here was the test. Would she?
He released her shoulders, let his hands slide down her arms in a caress. Faith quivered and whimpered for a fraction of a second. She could feel Spike’s fangs, still buried in her neck, but the sensation of loss wasn’t as great as it had been at first. Now she could feel his tongue behind the bite, tracing the skin below where he penetrated her. She could feel one single track of hot fluid from the puncture mark slip down her back and between them to be absorbed by the shirt he was wearing, one that had already taken in the wetness from her body out of the shower. Faith let her hands come up and over Spike’s and lay there. His cock was throbbing between her legs and her clit seemed to be matching the rhythm. But he was still, so still, and it was all up to her now. No guidance was coming from her Sire. She knew, just knew deep in the core of her, that he was looking for her to do something, something right, something real. But she was so tired, so strung out, the smell of sex and blood hung heavy in the air and she couldn’t think at all, she could only feel the need, the drive.
Then sudden insight, flash of utter rightness, just let the demon make the choice and it was blood. Faith drew Spike’s wrist to her mouth in a flash, and let her teeth sink in and she drank and drank. He was drinking from her again as well, they were emptying and filling each other now, and as the blood rushed through her she realized that she got it all this way. They were one; they were united; they were bound. With a sudden blur of movement, he was fucking her again, cock pistoning in hard and fast, his free hand rubbing her brutally hard as well, and in an instant she was there and over, shrieking against the wrist that she refused to release even in that moment of climax. And then Spike was filling her everywhere at once, her mouth with his blood and her cunt with his come and her ears with his growling sounds of pleasure.