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05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
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10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!


Author's Corner

[Reviews - 24]

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Authors Chapter Notes:
Big thanks to my beta Ariel Dawn and for your unwavering honesty. *hugs*


It had been too bloody easy. So easy that he had almost laughed at its simplicity. It had taken time, but time was something he had, being stuck in that damn wheelchair. One by one the still loyal minions had gathered and brought what he needed, stowing it away in the bottom dresser drawer until finally all was procured.

Outside, the moon was full but it didn’t affect the heavily shrouded room, lit only by a few spares candles. The room was tucked away in the far corner of the mansion and though Spike had first protested at it location, now he was thankful, as they were not easily disturbed by the others, which was something he needed.

Spike wheeled himself into the center of the room, his most loyal minion beside him, helping him. He beckoned the minion forward and took the items he offered, setting them on his lap.

Spike wasn’t one to usually dabble with magic, bloody consequences and all, but he couldn’t resist this one time. It could be the one thing that changed everything, that gave him what he needed.

With the utmost care, Spike mixed the ingredients together in the correct order, a faint white glow coming from the vial he held.

Finally, a single strand of silky blonde hair was added to the vial. A small incantation fell from his lips, making the vial sparkle green for a moment and then die out.

“Did it work Master Spike?” the forgotten minion asked, staring at his master expectantly.

“I guess we’ll see. If it did, make sure she is unharmed,” Spike commanded before dismissing him.

A little summoning spell plus a persuasion spell, what could go wrong?


It only took him a mere second to realize another presence was in the room; only another to feel and smell her, and then she engulfed him.

Before Spike could blink an eye, his lap was filled with the petite body of one particularly blonde Slayer. Her small frame straddled his and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Spike stared down at the long column of neck in front of him. As far as he could tell, the Slayer was still asleep, but susceptible to his every whim and need. Just as he had ordered, she was unharmed, and unarmed, unless she could hide a stake under the small shorts and cropped tank top she was wearing.

Her heat warmed him, her blood pumping beneath the surface of her skin, its steady rhythm calling to him, beckoning him, making his mouth water.

Without even a second thought, he shifted guise and licked a wet trail down the smooth skin presented before him. Instead of tensing as he thought she would have, Buffy gave a small moan and stayed relaxed.

Spike resisted the urge to tear into the smooth, unblemished skin. He was still an evil vamp but that didn’t mean he had to make her hurt. Not when he could make it hurt so good.

He lifted the Slayer’s body and shifted her until she fit more comfortably on top of him. He lowered the Slayer down and she let out a small mewl as they pressed intimately against each other, the thin shorts she was wearing not doing much to protect her from his immediate reaction from her close proximity. His vamp senses picked up on her heart pumping just a bit faster but Buffy’s eyes never opened.

This was going to be tricky, and not to mention just a bit evil. If the Slayer woke up at the wrong moment, it would be all shot to hell and he might as well sign his death certificate; but, if he could get her at just the right moment, things could go very differently indeed.

Spike, thankful for having already removed his duster, pulled off his shirt, using one hand to prop Buffy’s body up while taking off the shirt and then switching.

Buffy let out another sigh as she came into contact with his cool chest, nuzzling his neck.

He wasn't prepared for it. The heat. He’d never been with a living human and he’d forgotten how warm they were. Buffy’s body seemed to pour heat out of every pore. It took him a second to get use to the sensation and his brain went into overdrive as he imagined being inside her.

Best get to work then, he thought with a wicked smirk and rubbed his hands over Buffy’s shoulders, working them down her back. The soft noises she began to make did wonders for him, renewing his worn confidence and making his touches bolder, her mumbled words of encouragement driving him on. Spike worked his way down to her bottom, slipping his hands inside the material of her shorts and giving each globe a firm squeeze.

Spike thought he would start to catch fire as her hot core grinded against him of her own accord. Her hot liquid seemed to melt the solid layer of denim that encased him.

Raising one hand, he brushed away the hair that had fallen forward. He felt the Slayer’s body give a little quake as his hand made contact with her now flushed skin. He gave a quiet chuckle and trailed his hand down her neck and to her shoulder, his fingers catching on the strap of the tank top and sliding it down.

The curve of her breast became exposed as he slid the strap down farther until the dark dustings of her areola appeared. With feather light touches, he traced the outline of the darkened area and brushes his thumb across her nipple. Buffy’s body gave a shudder and pressed forward, seeking more contact.

He palmed one breast as she rose up to press herself down on him and the intoxicating scent of the Slayer’s arousal filled the room. His eyes dilated with need and he tweaked the nipple, making Buffy buck harder against him. Her hips continued their movement, soon becoming almost erratic.

She breathed out the mumblings of a name it filled Spike with anger to think that Buffy might be dreaming that Angel was doing this to her.

Spike grabbed her hips and slammed her down on to the bulge of his jeans, making her scream out in pleasure. With an angered roar, he bit down onto her neck, triggering both of their releases. Buffy’s head flung back, her mouth opened in a soundless scream, her blood pumping into his mouth.

He swallowed as much as he could, already feeling the effects of the Slayer blood healing him as soon as it hit his taste buds. He couldn’t hold back the moan as her sweet, copper blood flowed down his throat, giving him a taste of everything she was, of everything she would become. He knew then that he hadn’t chosen wrong, that he was right about Buffy Summers. She was different than the other Slayers. Just underneath the surface was something dark, a shadow, just waiting. Spike intended to bring it out and see what it would bring.

As he felt the strength return to him, he pulled back and watched as the two puncture wounds slowly wept, the two bloody rivulets sliding down her neck, a stark contrast to her golden skin.

“Mmmm…Spike,” Buffy purred, before her head fell on his shoulder again.

Spike smiled in triumph, grinning from ear to ear. The chit was thinking about him, not that stupid poofter. He felt the exact moment when consciousness entered her body again and cursed himself for not making his position less vulnerable.

“You evil, evil vampire,” she murmured against his neck.

“What can I say baby, I’ve always been bad,” he growled into her ear and was rewarded with a buck of her hips, making them both moan.

Soon, it was as if the fog began to clear and Buffy became aware that she was really awake and this really wasn’t a dream. She wasn’t snuggly tucked away in her bed with her fantasies of a bleach blonde vamp. Nope, she was apparently at the mansion and sitting astride said vamp. How she got there she wasn’t very sure of and that freaked her out.

Buffy sat up and scooted back so she could see his face better.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing that you didn’t want done love.”

“Right,” Buffy snarled back. “I asked to be kidnapped and…violated.”

Spike snatched her arms and brought her close to him, breathing heavily into her face. “I didn’t do anything that you didn’t want Slayer. I’m not Angelus. I could have you naked and tied to the bed but you’re not. Instead, you’re on top of me, you’re the one in the position of control. Believe me pet, it would be ten times worse if Angelus had taken you. This is nothing compared to what he would have done,” he said, then released her arms but her hands stayed on his chest.

“Oh,” she acknowledged in a small voice. Her mind thought over all the possible scenarios she could have woken up in if Angelus had taken her instead and she mentally forced herself not to cry or shudder. Instead, her eyes flicked down to the hard surface her hands were resting on and she felt like swooning at the perfection presented before her. Smooth alabaster skin covered hard, perfectly chiseled muscles. She knew that Spike had to be muscular but she never imagined him to be perfectly so, having always hidden himself behind his duster.

“See something you like?” he all but purred as he grabbed one of her hands and brushed it down his chest to rest on ever present bulge in his jeans.

Buffy snatch back her hand as if burnt and would have dared moving back further if she hadn’t feared falling off his lap. It never once entered her mind just to stand up and leave.

He chuckled at her antics and it pulled at something deep inside her. Spike wondered where the hellcat that was normally the Slayer was. She was being remarkably timid. He’d seem a glimpse of her earlier but now she was gone again.

In a moment of epiphany, he remembered Angelus retelling the harsh words he had thrown at the Slayer the morning after. Well, he’d just have to break her of that shell good and proper.

“Slayer, you want this, I can tell.” He caressed one hand up her back to tangle in her glorious hair, that hair that seemed to be made of sunshine itself. It scared himself how much he wanted to just throw her on the bed and bury himself in her and that hair. He tramped down William and let Spike have a little bit more rein, at least for tonight.

“Spike, we can’t do this,” Buffy whispered trying to command the body that was disobeying her.

“And why not?” he asked, flicking out his tongue to trace the shell of her ear.


“Slayer, pet, I’m going to be perfectly honest with you before we go any further.” He pulled her back and she almost cried out at the loss.

No! Spike is an evil vampire. You’re not suppose to want him, she chastised herself. But as much as she wanted to push him away, she couldn’t. There was something within his eyes that made it impossible to cast him away.

“Buffy,” he started, and she wasn’t sure if it was hearing her name from his mouth or the tone of his voice that really catch her attention. “Your ‘Angel’ is gone.” He hurried on as she made to protest. “And even if there was a way to bring him back, could you be with him? I mean honestly? Buffy, you see how much hatred he has for you now. How much he hates what is good and pure about you. And even when he is Angel, there’s always a part of Angelus that is inside Angel, he will always have that part of him inside that absolutely hates you and what you are and what you stand for. Do you understand?” he asked. It was terribly blunt and harsh, and just the slightest bit evil, but the chit had to get it through her thick head exactly what Angelus was. He was so tired of everyone having grand delusions about who his Sire really was.

Buffy clenched her fist. She wanted to argue. She wanted to wail and protest and hit him until he told her differently. That Angel could never hate her. But just as Spike had a moment of clarity, so did she. She could see the similarities between the two entities that she tried so hard to keep separate. She could see the small part of Angel/Angelus that hated her and could she be with him when she knew that? The answer was no.

“So what about you then?” she shot back at him, anger burning inside.

“Me?” he asked with a laugh. “Oh pet, I was lost a long time ago. I could never be with Dru again after this. I thought I could. I thought she was what I wanted, but she isn’t.”

“Why don’t you hate me?”

“I never hated you. Never hated any Slayer. In fact, I kind of admire you birds. You risk your neck every night for a world that will never know. But then again, you present a challenge and I like a challenge.”

“Then why aren’t you clawing out my throat right now?” she questioned back with a raised eyebrow that was reminiscent of his own.

“Oh love,” he said, his voice going low, making her insides quiver in anything but disgust. “There are many things I’d like to do to you and believe me, killing you is the farthest thing from my mind.”

It seemed the room had jumped ten degrees and Buffy felt utter heat envelop her with his words. It was then she took notice of how very little clothes she was wearing and how her tank top was only half covering her. It took everything in her to stop her hands from covering herself up. It would seem dumb to after what he had just done, after what she had just experienced. The thought sent her mind back to the pleasure, the intense pleasure he’d given her and he had yet to touch her more intimately, just reverent touching and the simple pleasure of his bite.

That thought sent her hand flying up to her neck, her fingers gingerly pressing on the bite marks and drying blood. She brought her hand back and stared at the two blood covered fingertips. Spike caught a hold of them and brought them to his lips, sucking lightly on them and lavishing them clean with his tongue. Her insides let out a little spasm as his tongue wrapped around one finger and continued to clean it thoroughly. His obvious skill made her think of other things he could do with that tongue. The imagery making her eyes close and suppress a moan.

“You want this Buffy. You want me. You want to be with me,” he whispered against her fingers before pressing a kiss to the thumping pulse in her wrist. “You want me inside of you, filling you, making you feel so good,” he continued as he made his way up her arm and to her neck. She sharply inhaled a breath of air as his tongue swiped across his bite marks.

Spike knew exactly what he was doing to her, how every lick and nibble was affecting her, her heart beating just a bit more faster, her desire soon consuming the air between them.

“And why should it be you Spike?” Buffy breathed out against his cheek. God, how she needed to feel him against her in every sense of the word. The need burned inside of her.

“Because I can give you want you want, what you need,” he replied and then his lips were on hers and Buffy was lost, lost to everything but the sensation and feel of him. His lips smooth and soft, hands caressing and holding her safe, his body a sure weight alongside hers.

As they broke for air, Spike stood for the first time in several weeks, lifting the Slayer easily in his arms and walking towards the bed with steady strides.

By the time Spike deposited the Slayer on the bed, she had lost both her top and short, lying solely in her knickers on the black silk sheets.

The look in his eyes as he watched her gave Buffy a bout of confidence and she slid herself back until she rested on the pillows and then held out her hand, curling a single finger towards herself, beckoning him to come to her.

Before she could blink, Spike had lost his jeans and was slowly crawling up the bed, making Buffy’s breath hitch in her throat. She swore her heart stop beating as he licked a small trail up her leg, stopping only to nuzzle her stomach before coming all the way up. She could feel him hard and smooth against her thigh, his hands already working their way down her torso to divest her of her last article of clothing.

Rather than slip the underwear down her legs, Spike gave the elastic band a sharp tug and it broke under the force. He tossed away the discarded material and placed his palm on her, checking to see how wet she was. He found moist heat and knew she was more than ready.

Settling his weight on top of her, he relished in the way she wiggled against him, getting herself as close to him as possible.

Spike lowered himself down and nibbled along her neck, finally swooping in for a kiss. He let up after a moment, allowing her to gulp down some much needed air.

“Wait Spike, I have one more question,” she said, her voice breathless, her hands reaching up to curl around his biceps. “How did I get here?”

Spike grinned and lined himself up, his cock already feeling the heat radiating off of her. Taking a hold of her hips with his hands, he bent down, placing his face right above her.

“Magic”, he whispered against her lips and then he slammed into her, crashing his mouth down onto her, capturing her scream in his mouth.

Buffy’s back bowed, her head digging back into the pillows, her mouth still open in a perfect ‘O’ as Spike left her mouth. He continued to rain kisses down her neck and onto her chest, his body moving with perfect rhythm within her. She was helpless to do much more than curl her legs around his lean hips, her nails digging into his biceps and hang on as he pounded wave after wave of pleasure into her.

Spike clenched his teeth as he fought not to shot his load. The heat he’d found inside her shot all his predictions to hell. She was hotter and tighter than he’d ever imagine. The nails digging into his arms kept him grounded as he worked himself in and out of her, her slick heat clinging to him and sucking him back in. How anyone could want to give this up he couldn’t imagine.

Buffy felt like she was swimming in a pool of pleasure, the slap of flesh upon flesh were the waves crashing on the shore. With every stroke of his cock inside of her, it carried her out farther and farther until she was drowning in the pleasure. The words tumbling from his lips of perfection proving to her that it was the same for him.

Together they strove higher and higher, until the pleasure was almost so intense it bordered on pain. It needed to break and there was only one thing that Spike knew would help. He reached one hand up and pulled her head to one side, Buffy doing nothing to fight him as he stretched her neck taut. His vamp face came to the fore and he licked the marks he had made earlier, making Buffy grip him almost unbearably tight. Without any forewarning, he stuck, sinking his fangs into her neck again, reopening the wounds.

Colors burst behind Buffy’s eyes as she let out a cry of pleasure, another orgasm rolling through her body as Spike sucked on the wound. She clung to him as a lightness overtook her whole body, his body still slowly pumping within her, drawing out both of their orgasm. Finally, he stilled on top of her, settling his weight on her but not crushing her.

Spike licked the wounds closed, more sated than he had ever felt in his life. Using his last bit of strength, he rolled over, pulling the Slayer with him.

She sighed contentedly against him, pressing a kiss to his chest before resting her head again.

He had her. He knew he did. Even as he pulled the sheets over their two satisfied bodies he knew that she would be his new dark goddess, she would take her revenge on Angelus and then they’d blow this hellhole.

Yeah, sometimes it paid to be bad.



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