Round 4 by karbear57
Turn Pairings: Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC17
Warning: Blood play, NC17 due to sexual situation
Right after Buffy punched Spike in the nose…
“Stupid vampire,” Buffy slammed her bedroom door. She immediately started to pace, wringing her hands together. She ran out of the living room as soon as she punched him, leaving before he could retaliate, and she knew he would.
“Him and his stupid plans with his full lips and chiseled cheek bones. Staring at me with his blue eyes. Who does his think he is? ‘Guess you are a better actress than you thought, eh pet?’” She mocked. “With his stupid smirk and bleached hair, damn him!” Buffy paced around her bedroom, getting angrier. “‘They belong to each other’,” she mocked again.
“Buffy?” Joyce’s voice echoed up the stairs.
“Yes, Mom?” Buffy answered, half afraid that she would get in trouble for punching Spike.
“Bring down the twin sized sheets and make the cot in the basement up for Spike .” Buffy could have sworn her mother emphasized his name to taunt her. She could just see him beside her mom, with his smirk and bad attitude.
“Mom!” She complained. There was no way she was going to make Spike’s bed.
“Do it,” Joyce’s voice was hard and paused a moment, “Now!”
“Fine,” Buffy went to the linen closet and took a pair of blue twin sized sheets out, but paused. Underneath the blue sheets stood a very old set of sheets, her sheets to be exact. Strawberry Shortcake sheets. With an evil glint in her eyes, she replaced the blue sheets and took out her childhood sheets. If she had to make Spike’s bed up, she certainly could have fun doing it. She grabbed a blue blanket and tucked everything together. It was time to make Spike’s bed.
Buffy calmly walked down the stairs and noticed that the living room was empty. She headed to the kitchen and noticed everyone in there. She glanced at Spike leaning against the counter with a bloodied dish rag held to his face, his eyes narrowed on her with the shadow of a threat lurking behind his eyelids.
Joyce glared at her daughter as she passed, upset that she resorted to such juvenile and violent stunt. “Now , Buffy.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” Buffy opened the basement door. She ran down the steps and headed to the musty cot in the corner. She started to make the bed, a self satisfied smile firmly on her face.
She finished tucking the sheets in and had just laid the top cover down when her mother opened the basement door and started down the steps .
“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” her mother asked.
“No,” Buffy continued to pretend to fix the blanket. “I guess not.”
“It’s the least you can do to thank him for saving your life,” Joyce said as she picked up some clothes in the laundry.
“Sure,” Buffy snorted.
“That and an apology.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding? Mom!” Buffy whined.
“I don’t want to hear it, Buffy. You apologize for punching Spike’s nose.”
“I so will not!” Buffy insisted as her foot stomped on the cement floor.
“Yes, you will,” Joyce scolded. “He saved your life and you repay him with violence. I thought I raised you better than that.”
“He’s a vampire, Mom.”
“Doesn’t change the fact he saved you.”
“Fine!” Buffy said and ran up the stairs. She flew into the kitchen, startling everyone sitting around the island. Spike straightened his body as she neared him, his eyes appraising her. “Mom says I have to apologize so I’m sorry.”
Spike’s lips twitched barely repressing a smile. His blue eyes darkened with surprising lust, “Playing Mommy's little girl?” His hand touching his chest, near his unbeating heart. “I’m touched, really.” Slowly his hand moved down his pectorals and rib change, “What other role playing games you into? Care to show me your repertoire, Luv?"
Buffy looked at him startled and a bit aroused. She watched as he curled his tongue around his teeth, waggling the appendage. “Pig!” she gritted out. Before anyone in the room could notice, her fist reached flew towards him, only to be stopped by his own hand.
He pulled her closer to him, their chests touching and whispered, “I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
Outraged, Buffy’s foot shot out and made contact with his shin. “And I’m not sorry!”
Spike laughed as he rubbed his shin, his blue eyes dancing with mirth and added, “You know you want me, Slayer!”
Joyce watched from the basement door as her daughter stomped out of the room. She glanced over at Spike with a disappointed face. Spike noticed Joyce entering the room and his face suddenly fell, “Sorry, Joyce.”
~*~*~
The house fell quiet as night approached and the Scoobies left. Joyce sat in the kitchen, nursing a mug of homemade hot chocolate as she contemplated life.
Life was a funny thing, she mused. First, Mr. Giles comes to her, informing her that her only daughter, her blood was gone, dead. Unimaginable pain filled her, poured out of every orifice. It almost destroyed her.
The only thing that saved her was the hope that Mr. Giles was wrong. He brought no proof of her daughter’s demise, only wicked tales of demons and vampires. She thought that someone slipped him some PCP, evidently a popular drug on Sunnydale streets. That somehow he was high on hallucinates.
It was too much for her, she realized now. Her quiet demeanor wasn’t from choice, but necessity. Her mind whipped around thoughts and hopes that this man, and the children surrounding him were on drugs.
But it wasn’t to be, she thought as she sipped from the warm mug. Everything changed the moment the door opened to reveal Spike holding Buffy’s injured form. Vampires were real and Buffy was alive.
She didn’t have much choice, inviting Spike in, allowing him to stay. Something deep inside his eyes spoke to her, called to her instincts. This man, this vampire saved her daughter for no other reason than to fight another day.
She watched as he held Buffy so close, desperate for the group to listen to his side, to band together against the new evil.
She couldn’t help but snort at the idea. Evil . She never thought about evil except in terms of her ex-husband and his lack of parentage. It amazed her that not only did evil have its minions, but she invited one to stay in her house.
Joyce wasn’t stupid, she saw Buffy and Spike kiss in the living room, saw the passion flow around them, encompass them. And, she knew that it was only time before it consumed them. She only hoped that they wouldn’t combust.
She finished her nightly drink and rinsed out her mug. She made sure all the doors were locked and the lights off before she made her way up to her bedroom.
~*~*~
Buffy crept down the stairs, her feet barely whispered against the treads. Slowly, her body moved through the night like a predator. Slowly and carefully, she avoided the squeaking floor as she made her way towards her prey.
She opened the basement door and peered down the steps. Taking a deep breath, she started her journey down to the bowels of the house, leaving the door open to allow some light into the basement. She squinted against the remaining midnight, barely deciphering the different objects littering the floor.
She stepped around the laundry baskets and storage boxes, all her senses trained on the corner of the basement. Slowly, she walked towards him, her slayer senses acutely aware of his presence.
“Couldn’t stay away then?” his deep British voice echoed through the basement. She heard the rustle of the sheets as he sat up.
“Shut up, Spike.” Buffy rolled her eyes in the dark, slightly embarrassed that he couldn’t see her expression in the dark. Spike smiled when he saw her embarrassed blush, his night vision was excellent.
“Make me,” he purred as he moved on the bed. “Loved the sheets, Slayer.”
“Knew you would,” she said confidently.
“They smell just like you. Bloody intoxicating.”
Buffy stepped closer to the cot. “Shut up, Spike.”
“Not every vampire can brag about being between the Slayer’s sheets,” he continued.
“Spike,” she sighed, “please. I didn’t come down here for your evil mouth.”
“Fine, Slayer, I’ll bite. Exactly what did you come down here for?” Spike sat up in the bed and patted the mattress for her to sit on. She noticed that he was not wearing a shirt.
“Were you serious?” She asked as she sat down.
“About what?”
“You know,” she sighed, “Angelus.”
“You mean with making him jealous?”
“Yeah, and him thinking I’m property.”
“He does, you know,” Spike sighed, she watched him drag his hand through his hair, “It would drive him crazy if he thought that you and me…”
“Were together?”
“Dru, too. Bloody drive her around the bend once more.”
“Look, I’m not in this to make your crazy girlfriend even crazier.”
“Hey, shut your gob about Dru.”
“You’re the one that said she released you, why are you defending her?”
“I’m not,” he suddenly sounded very tired. “It’s just that I was with her for over a century and she just left, you know?”
Buffy awkwardly touched his shoulder, for some unknown reason wanting to comfort him. “I’m sorry.” Spike stiffened at her touch, “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry.”
“Shouldn’t have come here,” he said, tears threatened to escape from his eyes.
“Sunnydale?”
“Yeah,” he sniffed, “This wouldn’t have happened, you would still be making eyes with the poof and I would have my ripe wicked plum.”
“Maybe,” Buffy said slowly, “Or she could be dust and Angel could have still lost his soul. Spike,” she paused. “What if…”
“What if what, Slayer?”
“What if we made them think…”
“It would be a definite distraction.”
“Definitely,” Buffy agreed. “But we shouldn’t, we can’t.”
They both sat on the cot in the dark, neither knowing what to do, what to say. Minutes ticked by, their bodies close yet too far apart. It wasn’t a touch or a glance that started it.
Neither knew what happened, who made the first move, whose lips puckered first. Before either could process what was going on, Buffy was perched on Spike’s lap, her lips attached to his and her arms around his shoulder.
Spike’s hands curled around her waist, the satin fabric of her pajamas slid through his fingertips. His lips tingled with excitement as they touched hers.
He felt the warmth of her body saturate his, her legs straddling him as they fought for control with their mouths. Her fingernails ran down his shoulders and biceps, arousing his demon.
He heard her heartbeat increase, her scent wafting past his nostrils. He held her body on top of his, using her body weight to add pressure to his growing erection. He felt like he couldn’t control himself anymore that touching her consumed him, set him ablaze. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to, couldn’t deny this feeling.
Buffy broke the kiss, her need to breathe outweighing their passion. Spike’s hands griped her buttocks, bringing her body closer, rocking them together. He watched her head lean back, light gleaming off her neck.
“Slayer,” he rasped through his demonic features.
She looked down at him, a slow smile lighting her face. “Vampire,” she called back.
“Come here,” he licked his lips.
“What’s my name?” she whispered. Her face fell inches from him, not allowing him to reach her lips.
“Buffy,” he rasped.
“Spike,” she whispered low as their lips touched, his demonic face melting away. “Want you.”
“Want you, too,” he replied as he moved their bodies down to the cot. Their legs rub against each other as the weight of Spike’s body pressed Buffy into the cool sheets.
Spike’s fingers moved to her pajama top, unbuttoning the pearl buttons slowly as they continued to kiss. He felt her warm sticky tongue lick his lips and teeth, tentatively exploring him.
Her legs formed a ‘V’ for Spike’s pelvis to rest in, cocooning him. He felt her arousal through her pants and his jeans, scorching him with her heat. His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans.
He allowed her to explore, to set the pace, knowing that she was innocent of carnal knowledge. Her tongue licked around his canines, once again teasing his demon.
Spike broke the kiss, the control over his animalistic qualities slipping. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Buffy winked her right eye and tightened the grip on his hips, “I don’t?”
“Bloody hell, Slayer.” He rasped as his demon visage slipped into place. “Want to fuck a demon, is it? Want to feel his cock sliding against your virginal walls, breaking the precious barrier away?”
Her fingers grasped the short hairs behind Spike’s head and tugged him down closer. “I want to fuck you.”
The pressure inside Spike intensified, throwing all caution out the window. “As you wish,” he snarled.
Buffy watched, entranced, almost enthralled as his hands ripped the remaining buttons of her top off and baring her breasts to his hungry gaze. He buried his head between her supple breasts, his mouth sucked in her skin.
Her legs tightened around his hips, causing more lust to rise. She watched his human face flicker back as he laved her breasts and nipples. She gasped as he took one nipple into his mouth, pulling it with his teeth.
His hands gripped her pajama bottoms, pulling the fabric up and away from her body. Buffy felt the seams start to rip under Spike’s mistreatment and tried to stop him before they totally ripped, but she was too late.
It was startling to her when she felt the cool air of the basement on her bottom half, goose bumps erupted along her legs. She felt Spike’s jean clad legs grinding against her sensitive skin, but she couldn’t stop the overwhelming feeling of lust.
His fingers fumbled between them, frantically trying to unbutton his pants. As his erection popped out of his pants, he angled quickly into her. His lips moved up to her face, devouring her lips and scream as he pierced her virginity.
Buffy panted against the invasion, suddenly aware who she was with. Fighting against the panic rising from deep within, she swallowed the pain and looked into Spike’s blue eyes. She saw something deep with his irises, something unreachable; something that stirred her soul.
He moved slowly, allowing her body to adjust, to accept him. He watched the pain in her eyes fade and her arousal take over once more. Her eyes flicked bright green to brown as he moved above her, using his body to bind them together.
This was more than seeking revenge on Angelus and Dru. This was more than a distraction.
This was more.
Neither wanted to think about what ‘more’ meant in this act or what the feeling inside them meant. It was something that neither wanted to acknowledge, and so they didn’t. They moved against each other, her pelvis meeting each of his thrusts, angling his cock inside her to do its job.
Buffy looked up at Spike, the feeling of her body connected and full amazed her. His body was lean and muscular, definitely manly, but not overwhelming as it moved against her. Her body opened up to him, coating his cock in more of her juices as a tremor of ecstasy flowed through her. His eyes turned amber before her as he struggled on top of her, feeling her muscles hold tighter on to him.
Growling, he moved faster, a bit harder than before, yet his thrusts were still measured. He watched her face contort with pleasure, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. He felt her hot bbreath burst on his face as they both struggled toward ecstasy.
He felt the demon inside him, lusting after her, after her blood. She seemed to call to him, demanding his attention as she writhed under him. Her scent filled his nostrils, imprinting themselves on to his psyche. Her skin seemed to flow over her potent blood, drawing his attention.
He felt her muscles tighten and relax, pulling him deeper inside. Her body arched with her head tilting to the side as her muscles started to flutter. He felt her legs clamp around him harder, drawing him closer.
She sighed and moaned, little noises escaping her body. “I love you,” he heard her whisper into the night, as if the admission was something to be cloaked.
His amber eyes pinpointed her jugular and followed her beat. She was his, no matter what happened in the future, he knew.
“Mine,” he growled as she came. “Mine,” his voice roared as he followed. Before he knew it, his teeth were imbedded in her neck, drawing in her intoxicating signature, owning it for him self.
Sweet mouthfuls of her rich blood poured into his mouth, binding her body to his; her spirit to his demon. He felt the ancient magiks whirl around them, the scent of it heavy in the air.
Too caught up in the orgasmic rapture, he didn’t hear her voice in the dark; hear her say, “Yours.” He didn’t hear her continue, “Mine.”
He didn’t realize what had happened until he felt her blunt teeth against his skin, pulling on his own blood. Both felt the shift in the universe, the magnitude of what had happened and broke apart, their necks still bleeding.
“Love you,” he said, lost in the sensation of the mating.
With a start, Buffy sat up in her bed, her breath quick and irregular. “Oh God!”
Down two flights of stairs, Spike stood up with a start, his bare chest needlessly heaving. “Oh Bugger!” |
