“Oh balls!”
The words exploded out of his mouth before his brain could catch up. And now the brunette head had risen, pinning his errant grandchilde with a look of disgust as blood dripped from his elongated fangs. The neck from which he supped was nothing less than mauled and Spike could do little but bolt from the scene.
What the bleeding hell was he to do now? How could he have ever guessed the diminutive Slayer couldn’t keep her spindly legs together and had tumbled hell upon their heads once again?
Unlike his last leisurely yet determined exploration of this town, he bolted down streets and attempted to get away from the maniacal laugh that was catching up to him too fast. It wasn’t possible. Angelus had always been a great bag of beef that couldn’t quite make Spike’s speed. Yet, the bastard had obviously begun benefiting from a fresh, young diet when Spike’s own had become a little more of the food stamp variety.
He couldn’t decide if it was a shock or not when he came sprinting around the corner of Revello Drive and nimbly scaled the tree outside the Slayer’s bedroom window. He didn’t think he was being dense and misinterpreting his poncey grandsire’s chase as being anything but vindictive and vengeance bound, so he needed sanctuary. Some place he could be safe that the poof couldn’t access. And if he knew the Slayer, experience would have been enough for her to banish the other from her and all her little friend’s homes.
He didn’t even take the time to look at her posing in front of her mirror before banging on the glass. Frantically he tugged at the window and slid it up, testing the barrier before shouting and launching himself through, landing in the tangle of almost naked Slayer limbs just as Angelus bounced off the barrier and fell to the ground below the tree.
Before they could do the untangling, the ugly bastard was leering in through the open window, eyeing Buffy from head to toe and all the good fleshy bits in between. Spike growled furiously as he got to his feet, not minding as the blonde fell to the floor off his body. He whipped off his coat and swept it around her, marching up to the window but careful to not get close enough to be pulled back out.
“I should have known you kept coming back for more than pathetic love spells, William. Perhaps they weren’t even for Dru?” Angelus let his oily glance roam over his former love puppet and licked his lips. “Not that I can blame you. She’s certainly on the sweet side, and that pussy is nice and…tight.”
The punch was unexpected, but Angel sailed away and Spike slammed down the glass, covered it with curtains and looked at the girl whose lip wobbled while her eyes gathered worthless tears.
“You cry for him and I’ll slap you right the hell now.” He was furious and he couldn’t pinpoint why. Oh yeah, she’d fucked the prick again and allowed the monster that didn’t know how to share back amongst them.
He could see her struggling to hold the emotion back, snuggling into his duster while she closed her eyes and shuddered. And then those eyes of green—the shade of which Spike seemed to visualise far too easily—snapped open and slammed him with sudden awareness.
“Spike. Why are you in my room?”
He couldn’t help the smirk that tickled his lips. She was a survivor, this one. And she had bloody tantalisingly delicious looking skin too. If his original mission was going to be slow to accomplish, there was more than enough here to keep him occupied. Not like he hadn’t had a yen for the bint since the moment he’d walked up to her and offered a truce.
So, her room. Yeah.
“Protection? Hadn’t planned on my presence being picked up on so soon. Not before I’d managed to inflict some good old fashioned pain on the Brooding Ninny. Seems like the joke’s on me, though. Was it really that hard to resist havin’ him in your knickers?”
Buffy blinked her confusion, then leapt on the one visual she could understand.
“Oh, ewwwww.” Her face scrunched up and she shivered delicately under the duster.
Spike’s eyes glazed, imagining all that warm flesh rubbing against the inside of his duster and wished that she’d actually been fully naked.
“I so could. This soul loseage had nothing to do with me, so you can lose the self-righteous growl right now, buster.”
He was growling? Well yeah, didn’t make him all warm with the fuzzies to know she’d been flashing the git of all gits yet again. And after months of following Dru around like a lovesick puppy being regularly kicked to the curb—which he was almost ready to admit that he’d acted like a pathetic canine, particularly at his most inebriated—he’d had time to think. Time to wonder what his crazy ex meant when she said all she could see around him was the Slayer. And when he thought of the snack-sized chit that was the worst trained yet strongest Slayer of them all laughing, he about came in ropes of mindless ecstasy.
Seeing her again in her underwear would probably put him back in that position, too. And now that he’d locked Angelus out for the night, he spied a nice comfy bed and a nearly naked Slayer that just might take the edge off his annoyance. He hated it when his plans went to hell. Being that it happened almost always—and particularly since he first hit this crappy little town—he was annoyed quite a bit.
Right then, best get some kip, or something leading up to a good kip. Spike flopped down on the bed, shoving boots off his feet before pulling his tee over his head. He was more than amused at the Slayer’s embarrassed little eep as his top jeans button popped open.
“Just leave m’duster on the chair there, luv.” And he unzipped, kicking his jeans across to the same chair and laid back on the bed. He patted the space beside him and yawned. “Been travellin’ for days, so ‘m not up for the usual banter I can see you working yourself up to. Just get your pretty little arse over here and let’s get some shut eye.”
“Put your clothes back on, you FREAK!” Her screech hit all the decibels above the range fit only for dogs and Spike cringed.
“No can do, Slayer. Now get over here before I come and get you.”
Her eyes got so large the eyeballs nearly fell out of her head. Spike chuckled and smoothed a hand over his tightened abs. He’d never felt the heat before but something was definitely wrong with the thermostat in the house.
“Get your puny white ass out of my bed before I stake you.”
Spike grimaced as she grabbed a stake off the dresser, finding himself getting hard at the thought of having to fight her for a bit of sleep. And being all exposed like, his condition was hardly a secret. He chuckled as the blood left her face and her fist weakened its grip around the stick of wood.
Taking a deep breath he began to realise that maybe his presence with her now was a little less than expected. He’d spent so much time contemplating her role in his unlife that to finally see her in the flesh—hang on, she was still wearing his duster and hiding the booty. Anyway, he’d become overly familiar with her in his head, so he guessed he could concede it might be a touch difficult for the poor thing. And with the added difficulties with…
“How the bleeding hell did Peaches lose his soul this time? Did he fall for some other pretty young thing that was easily corruptible?”
She actually snorted. It made his dick stand all the way up and he lazed back, hands crossed behind his head, and watched her eyes zero in on his bits and lose focus. He could tell she was going to need encouragement. If he didn’t do something she’d stand there all night, covered in his leather until the sun came up.
He sighed and then stood, slowly making his way to her and watching her intently with his head tilted to the side. She didn’t move as he pushed the collar of his duster over her arms, letting it fall gracefully to the floor and then allowing his hands to rub the exposed flesh on her shoulders.
He’d been dreaming of this body for far too long now, he realised. Spike’s most opinionated member certainly wasn’t objecting to the moment and she seemed a bit zonked for coherent thought. He knew it was taking advantage, but a bloke had to take his evil where he could get it, so after setting his mind to what he was going to achieve this night, he grabbed her around the waist and threw her to the bed, leaping after her and pinning her in place.
The action seemed to wake her up and she opened her mouth to scream, but found she couldn’t with his tongue shoved half way down her throat. It was vile and obscene and why wasn’t she objecting more to such a dead thing having his mouth plastered to hers? When she was breathless he finally pulled away, letting his lips linger at the flesh of her lower one while he whispered dirty things to her in a voice loaded with the husky and the sexiness.
“Now, I feel it’s only right I warn you. Whatever reason made Peaches lose his soul, the return of his evil arse has got to be enough to show you that he isn’t worth the heartache. So, you an’ I are gonna have a spot of fun, get some sleep, then I’ll help with whatever is going down here. Got it?”
She didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink and so he dived for her neck, tickled her with his blunt teeth as his hands eased the hold on hers. His pelvis completely held her lower half still, his cock lodged in the little gap between her legs. The silky fabric was too much friction against his taut skin and he couldn’t wait till that little impediment had been taken care of.
“Are you going to kill me?” Her voice was so small in the vastness of the room and it struck Spike somewhere in his gut. It had never been something he’d contemplated. Never in all those long and lonely nights, following Dru’s trail of conquests with little blonde fireballs running through his head. He was either beating her into submission, or kissing her to sweet oblivion. Not once had it occurred to him to kill her; to turn her. There was some latent memory that told him that if he turned her he would be repeating some awful horror of his past that would be terrifyingly wrong. No, Buffy’s fate was not to die at his hands. Her fate was to teach him how to live again. Live without Dru. And as soon as he killed the bastard that started this ball rolling, he’d have her every which way.
“Not plannin’ on it, no. I am goin’ to bite you, though. We can discuss that later.” He was becoming quite taken with her little eye trick, or her big eye trick as she said so much with that incredulous widening that took over her entire face.
“Good. That’s…ah, good to know.” And she began to buck wildly, pushing and shoving against his laughter until his body finally released her and she was over by her door. Off the bed. Away from evil naked vampires…who…were…naked. So not what she’d planned when she decided her heart wasn’t cut out for patrol tonight with a newly soulless Angelus out there deciding which one of her friends or family to deprive her of first.
“I’m really thinking it might be right about the time to get your pants back on. Then, maybe, I can talk to you.”
Spike smirked as he glided gracefully to his feet, letting his cock jut out proudly in the direction of the Slayer while he took slow, prowling steps towards her. His eyes glittered his amusement when he caught sight of her cute little pink tongue dart out to lick dry lips, her eyes riveted to the white elephant in the room.
“Baby not ready to play yet? Don’t worry, Sweetness. You will be. You and me are goin’ to be one hell of a team.” Then he turned his back and made his way casually to the other corner of the room to retrieve his jeans. Getting them back on wasn’t the easiest exercise of the night, but he turned to make sure she got an eyeful as he stroked his cock and groaned as he held it against his belly and slid the zipper back up to cage in his erection. He had to bite his lip to make sure he left it there, taking little gasping breaths to try and calm the tide and let his mind release some of the thoughts that kept it so hard.
“D-does it hurt?” Buffy asked in a tiny, concerned voice. Her eyes hadn’t quite reached his face, riveted on the hand that was resting against the bulge and preventing the zip from slowly rolling back down.
“Not hurt,” he told her in a voice barely steady. “Pretty bloody uncomfortable, though.”
She actually looked worried and he couldn’t help but melt at how innocent she really still was.
“Maybe you should—“ Now she caught his eye and he could see that she wanted to say something but lacked the courage to really get it out.
He felt a little skerrick of evil track it’s way into his heart and he decided to play up the wounded male who just couldn’t survive with an undealt with woody.
“Would you mind too much, pet? It would really help if I could just deal with the problem.”
“U-um, I guess. What…do you need?”
Need? Oh, he guessed she was used to her little boys that needed titty mags to get them off. He could go along with that.
“Well, left my stuff in the car, you see. It’s on the other side of town.”
He wanted to kiss her hard when she looked at him so alarmed, almost scared. But that little devil inside pushed him on. He might get something to fuel his dreams yet.
“I’ve got nothing by way of stimulation, yeah?”
He saw the gulp in her throat and felt his insides flame and his skin prickle.
“I don’t have any…of that sort of thing. Can you think of something else? Maybe Cosmo?” She sounded so hopeful, so nice that he wanted to shag her rotten, but could definitely settle for the visual right now.
“Not really the thing, pet.” He paused, making sure he looked suitably pained and even marvelled at the appearance of sweat that appeared on his face. “I guess you could help me?” He made his expression desperate, needy and hoped she’d cave soon. He was so hard now he thought he was going to need new pants or a very skilled seamstress.
“H-how do you mean?” She was scared; it stirred his demon into a frenzy.
“Well…” He looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time, despite the good going over he’d given it since he flew through the window. “How ‘bout you sit in that chair. Pull your hair back so I can have a good long look at that gorgeous neck of yours. An’ if you could lose the bra, it would do wonders for a bloke’s abilities.”
She actually squeaked, but he nearly crowed in success when she took excruciatingly small steps to the chair, nervousness and fear bounding off her in waves. He could hardly believe she hadn’t tried to stake him again, that she was actually wanting to help him get rid of this erection so they could talk. At least, he thought that was her reasoning. If it was something else, the fog of his lust was hiding it completely from his usually nimble brain.
Buffy sat shakily and altered the fall of her hair. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of all that bare skin, and it was the side not marred by The Master. Spike felt something stir and rage against the metal teeth of his jeans and he slowly let himself loose again, a firm hand holding himself tight as he watched her terrified fingers shakily release the clasp of her bra and let the filmy white lace fall to the floor.
He whistled. Couldn’t help it. She was bloody magnificent and he just wished he could take it further . With his higher brain functions shutting down one after the other, he stood and made his way to position her. He pushed her against the back of the chair, ignoring her wide eyes and shuddering body. His cool hands slid down her arms and sides until he reached her hips and then thighs, finding her knees and prodding them apart.
Ahh, that’s the ticket. The tiny scrap of fabric barely covered her and he could see the patch of moisture that her pussy just couldn’t contain. He growled and had to wrench himself back so he didn’t dive in and taste, but then something else fell into view and accidentally bopped him on the nose. Perfect pillowy breasts, all toned and creamy. There was just that little something he was missing, something he needed to see in this picture to make him blow so hard the house would fall down.
With no warning, he struck. Vamp speed and he had her in his mouth, her pert nipple tickling the roof of his mouth and her shocked cry ringing in his ears, and then the blood that began to flow onto his tongue from her skin. He pulled away carefully, taking in the sight of her. Legs akimbo—spread and gushing, blood dripping down her breast and splashing against the tiny triangle of her knickers.
His jeans hit the wall as he tossed them and took in the vision, he completely oblivious to her statue-like shock. He sat on the edge of her bed, barely a ruler length away from his new obsession, his eyes darting between each delicious site. Sodden panties, bleeding breast, succulent neck. His hand worked his cock against his groans of need, wanting the pace faster and faster so he didn’t dive off and shag her. He wanted to bite that neck. Wanted more of her blood to slide down his throat while he fed her with his cock. Oh yeah, by the time he was ready to leave, she’d be begging him to stay.
When he finally came and shot her with his semen, he felt like he could finally curl up with her and sleep for a week. Completely satisfied and exhausted, he found her towel and wiped up the mess, gathering her into his arms and kissed her soundly. He finally noticed the rigid feel of her body, the kiss she wasn’t returning and worried that he might have pushed her too far. Too hard.
Oh well. He was evil; it would be a mistake if she thought anything else. Still, he had positive expectations for where their association was going, and he had a feeling. Something was making him ignore the possibility she might stake him in his sleep. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that she would. They had history, now more than ever, and if she couldn’t kill Angelus—who was a far sight more fucked up than he—then he doubted she would kill him. Especially when he stood by his promises, and he’d told her he wasn’t going to kill her. It would be bad sport if she did ‘im in in his sleep. Still, there was goin’ to have to be trust.
Spike climbed under her girlish sheets, thoroughly naked and feeling a tiny bit guilty for it, but too knackered to do much else but pull her down with him.
“We’ll talk in the mornin’, yeah?”
And within seconds his eyes shielded the mystery of his appearance from Buffy’s imploring gaze, and he was asleep.
squawks
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!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
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! ;)
Chrissel
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!
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!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
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! ;)
Chrissel
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!