When Spike woke, he knew right away he was alone in bed. He had an insane thought that the Slayer had pulled a runner on him – before he calmed down enough to hear her shuffling around in the kitchen.
And she was humming.
It was such an innocent gesture. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her do it before. She’d be humming all the time, if he had anything to say about it.
He propped himself up against the headboard and settled in to wait for her return – she wasn’t long either.
“Oh! I didn’t know you were awake.”
“Whatcha got there, pet?”
Buffy smiled and held up the bottle for his perusal, along with the plate of cookies – something she’d made special before her “date” with the Immortal.
“We’re celebrating,” she told him, walking across the room.
Spike quirked his brow.
“Yeah?”
“Uh huh.” The Slayer nodded emphatically.
“What’re we celebratin’?”
Buffy held out the plate to Spike, indicating that he should take it. He did, and she slid back onto the bed.
“Chocolate chip… my favorite,” he commented, not understanding the significance.
“I’ve been practicing.”
“You made them?”
At his look of horror, Buffy frowned.
“Even I can’t mess up cookies, Spike.”
“So says the girl that can’t even toast one of those frozen waffles.”
“Hey… that wasn’t my fault. Someone must have changed the settings on the thing. It had worked fine the day before… and so not rehashing. If you must know, I’ve been taking some cooking classes.”
“Uh huh…” His look was anything but believable as he eyed the near-perfect cookies.
“Look, are we celebrating, or not?” she grumbled.
She held up the bottle of champagne, swinging it enticingly.
“Careful with that, Slayer… or we’re gonna have us a mess.”
“Oh… I don’t know… I hear Chateau Slayer a la Korbel is an excellent vintage…”
Spike caught her meaning and leered at her, the cookies in his hand now forgotten.
“Is it now?”
He set the plate on the table beside the bed and crawled his way towards the Slayer.
Buffy gave up the bottle readily enough when Spike asked for it and allowed herself to be positioned on the bed. The pop of the cork was overly loud, and the Slayer started at the noise, letting out an inelegant eep as she did so. She watched, entranced, as the bubbling champagne foamed from the opening and ran down the side of the bottle, gasping as the cool liquid splashed onto her stomach.
Spike’s mouth was there a second later, slurping it up, and she didn’t know whether to giggle at the outrageous noises he made, or moan at the feel of his lips on her skin.
“Mmm… think you may be on to something, Slayer. Excellent vintage…”
He tipped the bottle and more champagne fell onto her stomach.
Buffy hissed again when it hit and she jerking slightly, causing rivulets to run down either side of her body, soaking the sheets beneath. Not that she minded in the least – Spike’s lips had a way of making everything else seem trivial.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Buffy snuggled closer to Spike and sighed happily. They’d never done this before – cuddling after sex. In the past, she’d done her best impersonation of “Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am,” and was often quick to scurry from the vampire’s side, shame at herself, at what she’d allowed to happen with the evil undead, foremost in her mind.
“What’re you thinking about, luv?”
“Nothing… not really.”
“So, that contented sigh was nothin’?”
“I was just thinking that we never really did this… this cuddling afterwards.”
“Well, you had a habit of stormin’ from my side like your knickers were on fire.”
“Yeah…” She sighed, feeling suddenly morose.
“Hey now… none of that,” Spike murmured, rolling to his side so that they were eye-to-eye. “It’s in the past, yeah?”
Buffy nodded, her eyes unnaturally moist. “I’m sor—”
Spike put a finger to her lips, silencing her apology.
“It’s in the past, Buffy. There’s nothin’ to forgive.”
“But, I treated you so badly…”
“And some of it I brought on myself.” At her questioning look, he explained. “Shouldn’t have… hell…”
“What?”
“It’s just… there were so many things I could have done different. That morning… when I said those things… I wanted to spout poetry, we were so bloody good together. But, then you’d think me a sap, so instead the demon in me spits out the worst. Then you go calling it a mistake, and that just gets my back up… because I knew you wanted me, and it was my fault I’d made a mess of it. Guess I was just like the others, huh? No good morning after?”
Buffy smiled, delighting in this softer side of Spike – not that the possessive, snarkier, yes-I’m-evil-ask-me-how persona didn’t curl her toes.
“They say the second times the charm…”
“Yeah… I guess they do at that.” He kissed her, a soft acknowledgment to her words. “’m just sayin’… you weren’t the only one to have things to be sorry for.”
“Okay…”
“So… starting over? A clean slate and all that?”
“Sure… I’m Buffy… Buffy Summers… Chosen One, though not so much of the singular variety anymore.”
“William Pratt… though, my friends call me ‘Spike.’”
“Hmmm… Spike. I have to say, I’m not in the habit of finding myself naked in bed with someone I’ve just met.”
“What can I say…? ‘s a gift.”
Buffy snorted and smacked his chest.
“But, if the thought gets your knick— erm, gets your virtue all aflutter, I suppose I can take you out on a proper date.”
“Oh… you do know how to sweet talk a lady, Mr. Spike.”
“Just ‘Spike,’ sweets.”
Buffy rubbed against him.
“Hmmm… yes. I can see that.”
“Minx!”
“What are you going to do about it?” Oh please, oh please, let it be—
“Make you a proper breakfast,” he told her straight-faced.
‘Wha? Huh?’
Spike couldn’t help chuckling at the look on the Slayer’s face; she was such fun to tease. His cock soon made its presence felt however, and his need to possess her, to give her what she so clearly wanted, quickly overcame his mirth.
He rolled her onto her back and settled himself between her legs. Amber eyes regarded the girl – woman – beneath him as the demon prepared to claim his mate.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike could hear the Slayer’s heart pumping away inside her chest, though she looked up at him calmly enough. As much as they’d had sex in the past, it had never been like this – with his demon prevalent. But, he refused to shake it off, wanting to know if she would take him this way.
If she loved both man and demon, as much as both entities loved her.
~*~
Buffy stared up at Spike, and her heart nearly broke at the vulnerability she glimpsed beneath the demon staring down at her so defiantly.
“I love you,” she whispered, her hand lifting to caress the ridges prominent on his brow, smiling slightly as he unconsciously leaned into her touch. “William… Spike… Slayer of Slayers… whatever you choose to call yourself…”
“How about mate?”
“Mate… husband… lover… those all work well too.”
“I do this… there’ll be no going back. ‘s not something you can walk away from. Ever.”
“I know… and I don’t want to. I want to be with you.”
She kissed him then, unmindful of the fangs cutting into her lips, proving to him that she accepted him as he was.
Buffy heard his muffled groan, felt a shiver run through his body. She felt his cock press against her opening. Then she was filled to near bursting, and she felt a sense of completion. Like she was only truly content when he was inside her.
Their pace was unhurried, as if neither were ready for it to end. Both luxuriating in the moment. They touched, they kissed, whispered words were spoken between them – love, devotion, encouragements for more.
She was ready for his bite when it came.
Buffy wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to describe the feelings it evoked – the way his fangs would pierce her flesh and draw her blood into his mouth, his rumble of pleasure and how the vibrations could be felt against her own body. Not now, or in the years to come.
Sometimes she would come close, and when asked, would simply reply, “It feels like heaven.”
And she should know…
|
