Thanks to Megan, Yani, and Kimmie for sticking with me as my irreplaceable betas. :)
VI
“You’re sure about this?”
“Never been more so.”
Spike cocked a brow. “You understand why I worry, right? You don’ seem to be takin’ this very seriously.”
Buffy rolled her eyes and sat up, making a full effort to not give a damn that she was completely in the buff and that the blankets were bunched at the end of the bed. In the four days since they had gone public with their relationship, the mischievous vampire had exercised every tool up his very proverbial sleeve to eradicate her shyness when it came to nudity. Especially when he was in the room.
After finding them sinning rampantly in his bed, Giles had given them the boot and closed himself off with a bottle of hard liquor and some eyeglass polish. It proved for an uncomfortable Christmas, but the Slayer had honestly never been happier. With Spike’s prompting, they had gone—as planned—to the Watcher’s loft for the Christmas exchange. The way she subtly sat herself in her lover’s lap was one of many things that went unmentioned.
She had given Spike an I.O.U for Christmas. He had smirked and done the same.
That night, closed off in the solitude that only home could offer, Spike had handed her a bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup and a pair of handcuffs. What she did with them was completely up to her.
He was undoubtedly the most inventive lover she had ever had. Though, saying that, it didn’t take very much. And she let him know after she cuffed him to the bed and forced him to watch her eat vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup on top.
After he had been thoroughly punished for some unknown deed of the past, she took the syrup as God had intended it—poured onto the lusciously bared body of her vampire. Licked off, reapplied, and licked off again.
“Knew there was some kink in you, Slayer,” Spike had gasped as her tongue swirled around one of his chocolate-covered nipples.
“Told you as much,” she had replied, lapping her way southward. “Now hush and be a good boy. Gonna suck on my chocolate ice pop.”
“Dirty girl.”
“You love it.”
“Yeh, I really do.” He had flashed her that sexy, warm smile that made her buttery in the nether regions and winked. There had to be some passage in the Bible that condemned him to Hell for that alone—right next to the one that condemned her for enjoying it. And were that the case, they were beyond redemption. But they would enjoy it together, and that was all that mattered.
“Can’t be a good boy, you know,” he had said as her tongue teased the underside of his length, lapping up every drop of chocolaty goodness that she had spilled. “’S against my nature.”
“Mmmm,” she had mused in turn, mouth closing around him and doubling back to taste his sac. “You’re being a good boy now.”
“’F you uncuff me, I’ll prove you wrong in half a bleedin’ second.”
“Don’t think so. You gave me the cuffs.”
“Din’t know you’d take to ‘em like a sodding pro.”
“Never underestimate a Slayer, pal.” Her hand had wrapped around his erection and given him a good squeeze before her mouth returned to lick at the head. “Especially one just discovering her kink.”
“Good thing chocolate doesn’ require solvent, missy,” he had teased, arching as she took him into her mouth again. “Fancy you get stuck that way. That’d be a story to explain to your mum.”
A lesson well learned. Right next to the one marked payback’s a bitch. Once released, Spike had cuffed her well and done things to her that merited serious blushing every time chocolate was suggested for anything thereafter.
“Fancy you get stuck that way,” she had jested back as Spike had suckled her clit into his mouth. “My mother would…come at you…with an…axe.”
He had glanced up at her and winked. “Not very original, luv.” And dipped his head back to the task at hand.
Yes, they had enjoyed a lot of fun with chocolate that night. In a matter of two days, it already felt like they had been in a relationship for years. The day after Christmas, in full awares of what shoppers tended to do after the big holiday was over, Spike had treated her to the mall where she bought him a ring in the style of his others, but with taste. He, in turn, bought her a necklace with a value appraisal so high it made her head spin.
Even more so when he ripped it off her in a fit of passion later that night. And turned up the next day with a new one and a small, boyish look of apology on his face. They were careful to remove it before he chased her back to her bedroom.
The ring she gave him, she later noticed, was on his ring finger. He caught her looking at him, perplexed, and only smiled to note that he understood and intended the implication. It made her heart swell.
It was in the dawn of the fourth morning—after Spike awoke her with a shagathon that lasted longer than she wanted to admit—that he first mentioned ritualistic mating. Speaking in broad terms. Futuristic terms. Terms that warmed her with security. The notion that this was something that would be forever to him.
It was already forever to her. Buffy tended to take to love in terms of forevers. Being a Slayer, her forever was never guaranteed. She knew she loved Spike—she knew that the love they shared was unlike any she could begin to compare it to. It was new, granted, and strange. All considering that they had been trying to kill each other not too long ago. But it wasn’t as though she didn’t know him. She did—she knew him better than she knew anyone, which was why loving him wasn’t such a drastic leap forward.
Slayers weren’t given forevers. They were about the moment.
So she suggested that they do it. Mate. The whole sacred thing: blood swap, claiming, rite of passage—the full kahuna. He had given her this half-dazed, half-awed look before shaking his head and muttering something about how she didn’t know what she was saying.
She spent the rest of the afternoon convincing him with her hands and mouth that she knew full well what she was saying, and meant it more than anything.
So here they were. Alone, naked, in bed; her sweet and palpably nervous vampire running soothing strokes up her arm. Looking at her as though God had handed her to him with a holy blessing.
“I’m more than taking this seriously,” she said, brushing a kiss over his hand. “You really don’t think I know what this means?”
“Think ‘f you really knew what it meant, there’s no way you’d’ve suggested it.”
“Hey, you suggested it, pal.”
“With no thought to it actually happenin’.”
She pouted at that. “You don’t wanna claim me?”
And earned an incredulous, half-offended stare. “Don’ want to…God, Buffy, of course I want to! You have any idea what the suggestion alone means to me? Have any sodding clue warped in that fuzzy mind of yours?” He shook his head with a short laugh. “I’ve never claimed anyone, pet. Never had anyone wanna…guess the thought that you…jus’ takes me by surprise, s’all.”
The Slayer frowned and sat up, taking his face into her hands. “What? Never?”
He looked away, embarrassed. “Well, ‘s not like I din’t want to, right? An’ really, had I, you an’ I wouldn’t be here. I’m countin’ my blessings on that one.” She smiled kindly at his words, though it dissolved the next second when he waved her hands aside and turned his gaze downward. “No one’s ever wanted…well, Dru an’…she din’t…’cause of sodding daddy.”
Buffy’s eyes darkened. “Angel?”
“One an’ bloody only, thank the maker. An’ you know what’s really funny, pet? ‘S the same with everyone I…” He shot her a wounded glance. “’S the same with everyone.”
“You think I’m just saying this because I can’t have Angel?” She bit in a gasp when he looked at her sharply, as though accusing her of voicing the words he had so clearly been thinking. “Spike, that’s ridiculous. I don’t want Angel. He can bang Cordelia for all I care.” That earned a small snort. She smiled and leaned into him. “He left. I hurt, yeah, but like most girls, I got over it. And I love you. Not him. Well, honestly, I’ll always feel something…first love and all.”
He growled lightly at that.
“But you’re the last love. And the right one.” Buffy smiled when he finally understood the meaning behind those words and shot her one of those astonished looks of utter reverence. “When I saw Angel in LA…it was a closure thing. He left me without saying anything; so seeing him again…yeah…it was painful for that. Like the entire high school thing was really over and I had to accept that I’m in college and Giles is no longer a librarian and the transition was sort’ve complete. And again, true, didn’t think I’d fall in love again. Not so soon. Didn’t think it’d be with another vampire.”
Another muffled growl.
“Didn’t think it’d be you.” She smiled and kissed him. “Can I tell you how glad I am that my line of thought sucks? I love this. I love you. If Angel came through that door right now, curse free, you’d have nothing to worry about.”
It took a few minutes, but he finally met her gaze. The uncertainty he guarded broke her heart five times over. “Really?”
“Yes, you big dork. I don’t say things like ‘I love you’ unless I mean them. Did I think I’d be saying it so soon? Of course not. But here I am. And I mean it. I love you, Spike. You, only you, until apocalypse do we part. And unless you don’t want to, you better get with the claiming, ‘cause I—”
Buffy shrilled a small yelp as Spike tackled her back onto the mattress, pulling her mouth into a desperate, loving kiss. There was need there. Hunger that hadn’t been there before. Hunger that he kept shielded until now—until this moment—even from her. He kissed her until oxygen became crucial, then began a slow, teasing journey down her body.
“Guess I talked you into it, huh?” she gasped.
Spike murmured as his mouth engulfed a rosy nipple, hand squeezing her neglected breast. His other hand was already teasing her soft wetness, palm pressing into her until she released a throaty cry into the darkness of a room that had collected many over the past few days.
Buffy clutched at his head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
His mouth released her with a plop. “Big yes, baby,” he agreed, continuing his pursuit down her body.
“I’ll definitely say.”
“You flatter.”
“You love it.”
“You win.”
She grinned. “Always do.”
Her minor spat of gloating didn’t last long. Nimble fingers teased her clit, earning a long repressed whimper before edging into her with immoral indolence. Her eyes went wide and shot to his face, reddening at the smirk he flashed in her direction. “This drives you wild, doesn’ it?” he asked. “Bein’ touched so slightly. Jus’ feelin’ me. Bet I could bring you off jus’ like this.”
“You could bring me off with your voice.”
“I knew it.” He dropped a kiss onto her stomach. “Only, I like tastin’ you. So call me selfish, but I prefer this…” He buried his face in her pussy, pushing his tongue into her for a few quick laps before raising his eyes to hers again. “Much more.”
Buffy stared at him, blinking sweat from her eyes. “Oh yeah,” she agreed. “How selfish of you.”
“I know. Take, take, take.”
“Selfish greedy bastard.” His tongue encircled her clit, his fingers prying at her opening. And she arched off the bed. Condemnations continued. “Oh God. Don’t stop.”
“Mmmm,” he murmured into her. “Selfish greedy bastards don’ stop.”
“Love you, Spike. Love you so much.”
“You know that selfish an’ greedy means the same thing, right?”
“SPIKE!”
He smirked and lowered his head obligingly, nibbling at her folds. “Christ. You taste like fine wine.”
“Less talky, more tasty.”
“Bossy bitch.”
“Greedy bastard.”
He rumbled a chuckle into her that shamed her at how good it felt. “I love you,” he whispered heatedly. “Love you so bloody much.” He deftly ignored the look he received at making such a declaration after being thoroughly admonished, nipping at her clit and welcoming the copious flow he earned into his mouth. “You taste so good.”
Buffy cooed and thrashed, fisting the sheets for lack of anything to grip. She was learning steadily that even though he was a vampire, it still hurt to have his hair pulled. “God, Spike. Oh my God.” Skilled fingers parted her folds and an equally skilled tongue darted out to taste her, sinking into her with devilled ease. He slid a free hand under her hip, anchoring her to his mouth. He purred into her, tongue teasing her to new levels of ecstasy. Stroked her to perfection while his thumb and forefinger fondled her clit with expertise she never wanted the back-story to. He whispered poetry into her body, drank everything she had to offer, and brought her over twice before he let her go again.
He licked up her spendings as though born from the Tree of Knowledge.
“Greedy bastard,” she gasped again, completely void of conviction as he prowled up her body.
He brushed a kiss over her lips, rubbing his erection at her stomach until she took him into her hand and positioned him at her opening. “Thought you might say that.” Another kiss at the nape of her neck. “Mmm, feels good.”
“This?” She was teasing him with the residue of her climax, that which even his expert mouth could not lick away. Spike’s eyes fluttered shut briefly and he hummed a coo of pleasure, thrusting forward into her grasp ever so slightly. When he didn’t respond, she squeezed him tighter and he offered a fierce nod, wedging an eye open to glare at her. “Thought so.”
“Wench.”
“You love it.”
“Don’ start that again.”
Buffy grinned. “I love you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“Yeh, that’s your excuse for everythin’.” He winked at her, whispered another kiss over her lips. “Gonna let me in?”
“And here I thought I was trying to convince you.”
He smirked and brought her hands up to either side of her head, lacing their fingers together. “You get an A for effort.”
Then he sank inside her. Deep. All the way. They shared a murmur of pleasure, hands exploring each other with soft sensuality. She rested her brow against his, an assortment of whimpers and pants tumbling through her lips. With only days behind them, she wondered if there would ever come a time when this alone wouldn’t be too much. And when they began moving together, it was an opus of paradise. With every thrust and parry, his hips battling hers, his hands exploring her body, his mouth warring her mouth before taking down her throat. Caressing her everywhere. Teeth teasing her breasts. Hands brushing hair from her eyes. His eyes smiling into hers.
That look of love that was never so potent as it was when he was inside her.
Pressure built without caution. The pace he set was leisurely but hard at the same time—slamming his body into her with moans of untamed possession. He lavished her nipples with his tongue and peppered kisses along the underside of her breasts. She had her legs tight around him; her anchor, for everything would tumble if she thought to let go. She contracted her Slayer muscles in time with his thrusts, and the smoldering look he gave her—no different but just as cherished as all the rest—sent her spiraling.
“Buffy,” he gasped. “’m not gonna last.”
“Me, neither. Do it.”
“Love you,” he panted, the look on his face only half-conscious to the knowledge that he was speaking. “I love you so much.”
Buffy nodded, tugging him down for a hot, needy kiss. “Love you, too.”
He flashed a smile at her that warmed her heart, his right arm collapsing onto his elbow. The other hand, never idle, wandering the expanse of her body to massage her where they were joined. He drank up the widening of her eyes and licked his lips in expectation.
“Come for me, baby. Please.”
“Spike…” She threw her head back. “Do it. Bite me.”
“Buffy—”
“Do it!”
There it was. That feral flash behind his eyes. Her own widened in turn, almost surprised when she saw the demon emerge. Her heart galloping when his fangs descended, but not from fear. Never from fear. This was an act not born of fear. Fear had no place here.
Not even when he sank his teeth into her milky skin, triggering an orgasm that knocked her into the next world.
“Oh God!” she gasped, clutching at him desperately as his thrusts grew harder, the fangs lodged in her throat. “Oh…GOD!”
It was over in seconds. Just seconds. His incisors retracted and his tongue lapped sweetly at the mark. Her skin tingled. “Mine,” he growled. “Mine. My Slayer. My Buffy. Mine!”
“Yours,” she agreed without thought, and his head reeled in astonishment. “Yours. I’m yours.”
There was awe in his eyes. He honestly hadn’t thought she would go through with it.
Well, if that surprised him, what she intended to do next would knock his metaphorical socks off.
“Buffy—”
Spike had no chance to react. No shot of stopping her, even if that had been his intention. She had lashed forward and fastened her blunt teeth into his throat over Drusilla’s mark before any thought could come around to coherency. Latched into his skin hard enough to draw blood. Felt him explode within her, his body surging forward, hers milking his for everything he had to offer. She lapped modestly at what she had produced, the ivory taste of his essence on her tongue.
Worth it to complete something so sacred.
“Mine,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “As mine is yours.”
“Yours,” he gasped, hips rocking to a standstill until he finally collapsed. “For fuckin’ ever. God…oh God, Buffy…”
She grinned impishly, her pants mingled with his. Her body tingled still with a pleasant sensation that outmatched any post-coitus repose she had ever enjoyed. “Didn’t think I’d do it, did you?” Her body instinctively baring itself to him. She was his. Three days, glue, solvent, a botched spell, and somehow she was his.
Spike lapped at her wound reverently, his grasp on her possessive. “Buffy?”
“Mmmm?”
“I jus’…god, I love you so much.”
She smiled and pressed a kiss into the nape of his throat. “I love you, too.”
“Forever. Right? This is forever?”
“Didn’t I just do the claimy thing?”
Spike chuckled wryly and sat up, resting his weight on his elbows as he looked down at her. “Y’know,” he said. “I oughta write that glue company a thank you note.”
“You and me both.”
He smiled and rolled them over, snuggling her into his side. “Mmmm. So…”
“So…?”
“Whaddya think we should make Rupert next year?”
Buffy blinked dumbly and twisted so that she could see the twinkle in his eyes. The same twinkle that gave way to numerous possibilities. A twinkle she was beginning to adore.
“Oh,” she replied coyly. “I dunno. But I do have some ideas.”
“Do you, now?”
“But they’re not for Christmas. You know, he has a birthday coming up.”
Spike smirked devilishly and rolled her over so that she was lying across his chest, and smiled into her eyes. “Oh really?” he asked, slithering a hand between them. “Do tell.”
FIN
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