Spike smiled down at the giggling girl in his arms as he spun her around in circles, causing her skirt to fly out in a silken cloud around them both. God, she was beautiful, he thought to himself. Stopping his spinning, he held her closer to his chest as he fumbled with the door to their hotel room. Pausing momentarily, he looked down at his bride and declared “I love you” as he carried her over the threshold, his heart swelling with love and tenderness. Spike reflected blissfully for a moment on the events of the day—it had been perfect. Absolutely bloody perfect!

It had not been a church wedding—no, that wouldn’t do, not for the former vampire and the vampire slayer. When all was said and done, it had been, in fact, the wedding Buffy had planned all those years ago whilst under Willow’s spell. They had taken their vows under the chestnut trees on the grounds of a beautiful Victorian manor owned by the Council. The reception itself had taken place later, inside the manor, at the beautiful oak dining table that easily seated the small party of guests. The Celebrant was a Druid priestess who worked occasionally for The Council.

Buffy, of course, had looked amazing. Her dress was simple; cream instead of white, it featured a lightly embroidered silk corset with thin spaghetti straps that showed her lovely golden tanned shoulders, and the simple clean silk skirts that completed the delicate garment hung from the waist, very slightly flared, to ankle length. Instead of a veil, she wore a fine garland, made of small cream and pink rosebuds and gypsophila twisted intricately together, around her head. Her gorgeous gold tresses hung perfectly straightened and cascaded like a shimmering waterfall down her back. His breath had caught in his chest at the sight of her; she was truly a vision of splendour, this incredible woman—and she was his!

Giles had been bursting with love and pride as he gave his surrogate daughter away to the man he had once looked upon as little more than a dangerous disgusting creature in desperate need of putting down for the sake of all humanity. Fortunately for both Bride and Groom, his view had changed considerably since then. More amazing still than Giles’ eager participation, however, was the choice of best man.

In the time since Buffy’s near fatal wounding in Regents Park, Xander and Spike had struck up an initially tentative, then later wholehearted, friendship. Xander, who had returned to England while Buffy was still in hospital, had come to realise just how narrow-minded he had been in the past and Spike had, for Buffy’s sake, accepted the whelp’s mumbled apology. The two had bonded slowly, helped along by the fact that they were the only males apart from father figure Giles in the slayer’s almost entirely female inner circle.

Months later they had been joined by another male when the itinerant werewolf Oz had shown up in London. Giles had convinced the young man that his services to the New Council would be indispensable, and as such he too was now a permanent resident of the British capital. Willow and Oz had cautiously renewed their friendship, and recently romance had once again begun to blossom between the two.

His Nibblet had looked exquisite in her beautiful cornflower blue silk bridesmaid’s dress. Like Buffy’s dress it had been simple, ankle-length silk, with tiny white flowers embroidered on the bodice; unlike his bride, however, Dawn had worn a long-sleeved, loose, waist-length overshirt of gossamer cornflower blue organza, giving her an almost ethereal air.

Spike had worn a black tuxedo with a cream silk shirt and deep red cummerbund; a cream rose had completed the ensemble—only the best for his beautiful girl. Now, however, he was itching to get out of it, or least the bow tie, which felt like it was slowly strangling him.

Spike carried his bride over to the bed and carefully lay her down, half covering her with his body. He captured her mouth in a gentle kiss, his tongue tracing her lower lip before sliding lightly across her teeth as she opened her mouth to allow him entrance. He stroked her tongue once with his before reluctantly drawing away, breaking off the kiss and moving out of her embrace to stand once more. His eyes drank in the sight of her, green eyes shining with love and lust as she looked up at him, lips slightly parted and breasts heaving against silk as she caught her breath; lending her a wanton look that went straight to his cock. His shaft jumped urgently to attention in response, just as his heart surged as the obvious love in her gaze went straight to the core of him; trying to collect himself, he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

His fingers worked the knot in the tie, loosening it and then tugging it off to be discarded on the floor as he eased his shoes off and bent to remove his socks; he turned his attention back towards his wife as his toes wiggled, rejoicing in their freedom. Buffy smiled gently at him and reached a hand out, beckoning him once more to her side as she propped herself up on one elbow, urging him down to sit by her on the bed. Her fingers ran lightly over him, cherishing and worshipful as she laid claim to every inch she could reach of her husband’s beautiful body. “I love you too, Spike. More than anything else in this world.” She reached up to cup his face, her thumb running lovingly across his cheekbone, as she bathed in the love shining in his eyes just for her. She could drown in his eyes, but then again, she always could have if she had only let herself; his every emotion shone clearly out of their exquisite sky-blue depths for all the world to see, laying him bare for those who cared enough to look for him inside. She ran her hand around to tousle the curls that she so loved to play with, running her fingers through them and loosening them as she disregarded her husband’s mock-growl at her actions. Having given up on feigned irritation, Spike turned his head and nuzzled deeper into her hand, planting soft kisses against the pulse in her wrist and purring quietly as her fingers continued to tease the soft curls on the back of his head.

Buffy brought her other hand up and slowly undid Spike’s buttons, her fingers gently stroking the skin below as her efforts gradually exposed more and more of him for her exploration. Once all the buttons were undone, she slowly eased the soft silk back over his shoulders and allowed it to fall down his back. Spike’s hands were also busy as he removed her garland and allowed it to drop carefully to the floor, knowing that she would want to keep it.

He reached behind her to slowly undo the laces of her gown and then gently slid the thin straps down her shoulders, allowing the silk to pool at her waist. He drank in and savoured the sight of her firm bare breasts and her hair falling in waves about her shoulders, but when he met her gaze and he took in the love shining from her eyes, a small sob shook his frame. He reached desperately for her, crushing her to him to anchor himself to this world by the force of her love alone.

“Buffy. My love.” His voice caught in his throat as his love for this beautiful woman—for his wife—threatened to overpower him. He buried his face against her chest, breathing in her warm reassuring scent as he sought to regain control over his raging emotions.

“I’m here, baby. I’ll always be here. Nothing will ever keep us apart again.” Buffy held Spike close, gently stroking his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair, soothing her love even as her own emotions welled up. A tear of joy and happiness tracked slowly down her face and into the soft platinum curls as she placed loving kisses against his hair; they had come so far and overcome so much to be here today, and the reality of it was more than a little overwhelming.

Spike was in heaven, or, he figured, the closest to it he was ever likely to be. Not only did Buffy love him as completely as he had always dreamed that she would, but here he was on their wedding day with his beautiful bride half-naked in his arms. So why the bleedin’ hell was he sobbing like a bloody poof? He smiled sardonically at his own weakness and mentally kicked himself before dipping his head to capture one perfect rosy nipple in his mouth. He smirked against her skin at his wife’s startled gasp, a sound which quickly became a husky moan and was joined by the heady scent of her desire as it filled the room with its unique perfume.

He rose, pulling her to standing with him so he could ease the dress past her hips as she toed her shoes off; the divestment of her gown and footwear left her clad only in a tiny lacy thong. Her small hands reached hungrily for his belt and zip, and she made quick work of both before pushing his pants from his hips, dropping them to lay mingled with the exquisite cream silk of her dress. She stroked the strong planes of his chest, nails scraping lightly across one eagerly puckered nipple before placing soft kisses in her hand’s wake. Buffy reached up to wrap her hands around the back of his neck, fingers spread to rake once more through his errant curls as she claimed his mouth gently with hers. Their tongues danced, touching, tasting, and brushing lovingly before moving on. Spike’s hands closed on her waist, fingers splayed possessively as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles across the taut skin of her abdomen, delighting in the strong muscles below the soft warm surface of her golden skin.

He slid his hands lower to cup her bum and lifted her, pressing her tightly against his body with his eager cock sandwiched between them. He moved them to the bed, seating himself before drawing her down to sit sideways in his lap, their lips never breaking contact as they continued their sensual, bone-melting kiss. Buffy’s hands left the back of his neck and began to run across his body with a soft, teasing touch that sent sparks of desire racing through him.

With a moan Spike broke from her lips and settled back on the bed, Buffy following to lay on her side, half-draped over his body with her foot running slowly up and down his leg. She initiated another kiss, this one deepening yet again and causing a fresh flood of arousal to dampen the tiny thong as Spike’s hands wandered hungrily over her body. Her hand slid down his body, tracing the lines of muscles to its destination. Closing her fingers firmly around his eagerly twitching cock, she smiled against his mouth at his indrawn hiss of breath and soft moan of pleasure as her hand began to move along his length, pumping him slowly and swirling her thumb lightly over the soft sensitive head, collecting the drops of pre-come that had gathered there before continuing her slow torturous rhythm.

Breaking off the kiss, Spike moved to once again capture her nipple with his mouth, suckling hard on it before biting gently on the sensitive little bundle of nerves. Gently extracting his aching cock from her too-clever hand, he moved slowly lower down her body, kissing, nipping and licking as he went. When he finally reached the scrap of lace he nuzzled her hungry flesh through the thin material, breathing deeply to inhale her scent. He hooked his thumbs through the straps on her hips and slowly drew her panties down her legs, his eyes drinking in the sight of her body now fully revealed to him. He settled himself between her thighs and reached out slowly with the tip of his tongue, eager to taste yet again the sweet juices coating the soft brown curls. He lapped once, gently, at her clit, and her hips flew upwards off the bed to reach for him even as she called to him, her voice husky with want.

“Come here, Spike. Please, baby. Want to hold you. Want you inside me,” she pled, the last spoken in little more than an urgent whimper. Unable to deny her anything, particularly when he himself was ravenous with the same need, Spike left his place and moved up her body to capture her mouth once more. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him fast to her body and shifting her hips slightly to position him at her entrance.

“Buffy, there’s no rush, love. Let me…”

“Want you now Spike. Need to feel you inside me. Please. We have all night. Right now I just need you to make me yours.” She arched her hips to meet him and he thrust gently inside her, each of them crying out with pleasure as their bodies joined. Buffy let out a sigh of contentment as Spike filled her completely, holding him close as they rested for a moment, delighting in just being one with the other.

Slowly he began to move, his thrusts long, slow and deep; giving over instinctively to the rhythm, they stared into each other’s eyes as their bodies synchronised. Spike dipped his head to capture her mouth once more in a long languorous kiss, his hands wandering slowly over her body before cupping her bum and lifting her hips slightly to change the angle of his thrusts. His cock brushed unerringly against her sweet spot with every thrust, and his pelvic bone rubbed her aching clit stoking her desire. Her inner walls started to tremble and Spike felt his own release rapidly approaching.

With a long moan of ecstasy, Buffy clamped down around her husband’s cock as her orgasm raged through her. Wave upon wave of pleasure gripped her body, propelling her into a delirium of ecstasy. With a last deep thrust, Spike followed Buffy into bliss, his body exploding with pleasure as her ecstatic moans fuelled his own desires and shredded the last remnants of his rapidly waning self-control.

One hundred and twenty-odd years of vampire instinct took over at this point, and before he had time to comprehend what he was doing Spike had sunk his blunt human teeth into his bride’s neck; after gently drawing a mouthful of her blood, he breathed against her skin, “Mine.” As soon as the taste of her blood registered with his senses, he realised what he had done and made to apologise, to beg her forgiveness; before he could even try, however, he felt her sharp little teeth enter his neck as well. An exquisite rush of sensation coursed through him as she, too, tasted his blood and then growled possessively, “Mine,” repeating his vow and completing the claim. Tears of joy filled his eyes as an overwhelming rush of love filled his heart. She really did love him—all of him—the demon he had been and the man he had become. She was his. His Wife, his Mate… it seemed too good to be true, and he almost expected to waken and find himself alone in his crypt back in good old Sunnyhell. But the feeling of her hands gently stroking his cheek and neck, the luminous and joyful green eyes that gazed up at him, and the brilliant glint of gold shining from each of their hands reassured him that no he was not dreaming—this was very, very real, and it was his destiny.