Chapter Thirteen
Tear At The Darkness All Around Me
It felt like a dream. And he was lost. Irrevocably lost. In dreams, rules didn’t apply. In dreams time, patience, and personal vows were thoroughly immaterial. All he knew was that Buffy’s fangs were in his throat; her pussy was pressed against his aching erection with only his jeans between them. And everything else was left to instinct.
His demon burst through before he could stop himself. He shoved her back to the ground and settled between her open thighs. Then his zipper was down, his cock in his hand, positioned at her opening, her scent filling his nostrils.
She was his. That was all he knew. She belonged to him. And now he would have her.
And he was swallowed by warmth. By the most blissful sensation he had ever experienced; watching her eyes go wide, her head snap backward with his blood dribbling down her chin. Her human face melting the demon away, and it was just Buffy again. Buffy looking at him with eyes shining of awe and distant shades of paradise. A strangled moan tore through his throat and his body rejoiced. He was inside her. Her body was around his body. His body set a furious tempo to appease his demon. Thrusting into her haven with a roar of triumph, feeling her tremble around him, feeling her ambrosia on his length. Her flesh molding his flesh. And it was the sweetest homecoming he had ever known. There was no place for him but this. For the past century and a half, he’d searched for something that had been out of reach until just days ago. He simply hadn’t known until she had come to him. He hadn’t known until fate brought them together. Until her nightmare became the answer to everything he’d never known he needed.
It was the explosion of pleasure that ripped through him first.
The second was the realization that his cock was buried inside Buffy, and she was beneath him. He was making love with Buffy. He was thrusting into her and she was moving beneath him. Her hips moving rhythmically to recapture him with every withdrawal. Not twenty four hours had passed since she told him she wasn’t ready for this, and now he had invaded her body. He had shoved himself inside her before he could even test her readiness, even if the rich scent of her arousal swam around him. Pleasure drowned out to guilt, and his demon faded with horror.
“Oh God!” he gasped, pressing his forehead to hers. Coming to a standstill within her. Searching her eyes desperately. “I’m so sorry. I…you…oh Jesus…”
She cupped his face and kissed him softly, her eyes shining. “No. God, don’t be sorry. Please. This is what I want, Spike,” she gasped, throwing her head back. He began moving again, watching her intently. Trying to grasp that it was real. “I want you.”
“Oh Christ.” He buried his head in her shoulder, panting into her. “You feel so wonderful.”
There had never been sensations like this. Never before in the long years of his existence had he known such sublime bliss. Never had he poured himself so thoroughly into feeling and have it reflect back, more potent with every second. She was molded around him. Her eyes were fixed on his, and she was smiling through tears. It was beyond him that he was actually with her. The slow glide of flesh from her warm paradise and back again, her vaginal walls squeezing the life from him, her lips moving over his…it was all more than he could take.
He had never thought to touch this. Not with her. Not even with everything they had shared. It had always seemed beyond him. Not only Buffy; he had never been with anyone that looked at him with love. There was love in her eyes, even if she didn’t realize it.
“Buffy…”
“You feel so good,” she mewled, fingers digging into his leather-clad arms. “Spike…oh God…”
He had never been with someone so warm before. She was a vampire; she wasn’t supposed to be warm anymore. None of the women that had shared his bed had been warm. Her eyes were a veil of emotion. There was awe buried within her gaze with every inward plunge. Her juices coated his length and teased. He was drowning in her and he could care less. Losing himself in her haven with no thought of finding his way back again.
“Never,” she panted. “Spiiike…please!”
“’ve never felt anythin’ like this,” he murmured against her lips, thrusts gaining momentum. His fingers slid under the hem of her top, palming her laced covered breasts, his face buried in her throat. He wished they were home. That he had had enough foresight to drag her back to his bed so that he could strip her of every barrier and explore her to his satisfaction. Massage and caress her as she deserved to be worshipped. Send her over the edge time and time again before taking her body with his.
He peppered kisses along her throat, fighting his demon’s urge to sink his fangs into her skin. If he tasted her blood, it would be over, and he didn’t want it to be over yet. He wanted to feel her quiver around him first. Feel her body tremble, her pussy choking him into another life. Taste the air around her as she came. He slipped his left hand under the cup of her bra, pebbling her nipple between his fingers; his other hand stroking her stomach and dipping between them.
Buffy threw her head back as he captured her clit and began fondling her furiously. “Oh, oh God.”
He drew his mouth away from her and buried his brow in the crook of her throat, focusing on the burn spreading through his body. “Taste so sweet,” he murmured. She was going to tear holes into his duster if she grasped him any tighter, and he couldn’t find it within himself to care. Her strength was beyond her now; he could feel her as though there was nothing between them but skin. She could hurt him so sweetly, and every show of strength hastened his thrusts. His need to feel her come around him. He swirled his hips with every plunge, massaging her clit feverishly. “Come for me, baby.”
She grew tighter and wetter with each fall. The slick slide of his flesh from hers against the cooling night air that echoed with the slaps of their bodies. A long tremble ran down his back. His cock and his hand pushing her closer to that break of euphoria. He watched her hungrily as her eyes shone with a familiar yellow gleam that made him shiver with something he distantly recognized yet didn’t know the name for. There had to be something for that. As gorgeous as she was in human guise, there was something so utterly primal about her wearing her demon face. At that moment, he honestly didn’t know which he preferred. His girl was his in whatever visage she wore. Appeasing his humanity as well as the demon that lived inside.
He had to push her over before he took his own pleasure.
He needed to taste her blood.
An animalesque roar slashed through his throat and the bones in his face shifted, fangs tearing into her soft skin before he could vocalize his warning. And she exploded around him. Her scream of release sang into the cold night surrounding them, and that was it. It was a cyclone of sensation. Each whimper that tumbled through her lips made his blood sing. She was sobbing her pleasure, trembling in a tumultuous climax, and her life’s nectar was in his mouth.
He was so thoroughly hers. He would do whatever she wanted if it meant he could keep her. Any pretense of letting her go was thoroughly eradicated. He had thought it the night before, sampling the sweetness of her pussy with his mouth. He had thought it again at their wake, when her tongue had enveloped his cock in velvet fire. He had thought it so many times, and each instance only inspired the knowledge to further conviction. She gave him heaven. She gave him what he never thought he could reach. Not as a man, and certainly not as a vampire. There was nothing like this. Absolutely nothing. And he would never let her go.
When he came, it was unlike anything he had ever felt. It surpassed every cliché he had ever associated with sex. Eradicated every thought of life before her. Buffy was still panting in her aftermath, moaning her encouragement as he emptied himself inside her. She was cooing encouragingly in his ear, whispering little nothings, brushing soft kisses across his face until he collapsed with her.
And the world came tumbling back.
“Oh my God,” Spike gasped against her neck. “Buffy…”
She murmured something unintelligible and suckled on his ear gently.
“Please tell me you don’ regret this. I don’ think I could bloody take it.”
Buffy pulled back slightly at that and smiled. There was no regret in her eyes. Rather, the emotion there was so far placed from regret that he nearly burst into tears. It was something he had never seen; something no one had ever given him. “I told you I wanted this. I…there’s nothing I want more than this.” She swept a tender kiss across his lips. “More than you. You…God, Spike…”
“I have to tell you this.” He caressed her cheek tenderly. The words were there, but he was so terrified of speaking them. Of throwing them out there. Of making them tangible, and ruining the cloud of perfection he’d spent the past few days living in. He was so sure she felt the same, but as long as the words remained unspoken, he could live happily in his fairytale and never risk the chance that he didn’t have everything he thought he did. That this bliss wasn’t really his. But he needed to say it. He couldn’t continue to share this with her and remain taciturn as to his feelings.
She needed to hear it; he needed to say it. Even if this was where it stopped.
“Buffy…” He kissed her lips amorously, released a breath, and held her eyes. “I love you. You know I love you, right?” Before she could respond, he kissed her again, and buried his face in her throat. “God, I love you so much. Sometimes like I can’t bloody take it. Like it’s too much. You jus’…I needed to say it. I needed…I love you. An’ I needed to say it.”
He didn’t realize how nervous he was until he heard his words. How terrified love had made him of rejection, even when he was all but sure that she felt the same.
Which was why he could barely take it when she cupped his cheeks and leveled her eyes with his.
“I know,” she murmured. “You told me I knew that first night.”
He nodded. “That’s why I went after you. I jus’ hadn’t…I din’t know it until you…I might’ve never known had this never happened. An’ I’m sorry that I’m not sorrier. That your being sired is the best bloody thing that happened to me, even if it killed me that it killed you. But fuck Buffy, I love you so much.” He pressed his brow to hers, his eyes fluttering shut. “So much.”
A pause. “I love you, too.”
And the world stood still.
“C-can…” He pulled back and stared at her pleadingly. “Can you say that…again?”
She smiled. “I love you, Spike. I love you.” A beat. “So much.”
Passion devastated his eyes, and he smashed his lips to hers. Kissing her hungrily, dueling with her tongue for dominance. She whimpered into him, squeezing her thighs around him, earning a long moan and a quick thrust. He wanted her again; he wanted her until the end of time. He was hard and he needed her—fueled with love and the promise of a future that was now tangible. A future he could see. A future that they could have together.
“I love you,” she whispered again.
“I love you, too, kitten.” He nibbled lightly on her neck. “An’ I want you again.”
Her vaginal muscles compressed around him, eliciting a long whimper. “I really don’t mind.”
“I do. Don’ wanna do this out here. Wanna take you home.” He kissed her forehead. “Wanna make love to you till mornin’. You deserve better than this.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
He pulled out of her before she could object. Before his cock made another decision for him; he wanted to explore her in bed, not out here where anyone could stumble across them. They were fortunate enough that the Powers hadn’t interfered yet; hadn’t sliced into their sanctuary. Hadn’t sent the Scoobies to find her, with or without his warning to the Watcher.
Perhaps she was right. Perhaps they were taking him seriously. But he wasn’t about to tempt fate.
Buffy whimpered when he separated his body from hers, collapsing to the ground beside her. He tucked himself back into his jeans and released a deep sigh, turning to her. The look in her eyes inspired him to new heights of something he was still exploring, still trying to name. “I’ve never…” he began. “You’re the firs’.”
“What?”
“The firs’ woman, other than my mum, to tell me that.” He glanced down, then edged near her again. Using the corners of his shirt to tenderly clean their mingled spendings from her inner thighs. “I’ve never…”
Buffy’s eyes went wide. “Never? Oh, Spike…” Her arms enveloped him. “I can’t…never?”
“Well, it’s not like…” He paused, trailed off, and flashed an awkward smile. “Told you already that…Dru din’t love me an’ never pretended to. The reason I was turned, Cecily…she had me thinkin’ I wasn’ good enough for her, either. My entire life’s been spent…you really love me? You’re not jus’ sayin’ it?”
She stroked his cheek reverentially. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t feel it,” she said. “I love you.”
He was going to be an utter wanker and burst into tears. He could see it in her eyes. He had known it before she said it. He had known it simply by looking at her. The words, though, were so much more powerful than unadorned supposition. “God, Buffy,” he gasped, tugging her into his arms. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Why?”
“For not bein’ sorrier. You bloody well broke my heart when I saw you in my crypt that firs’ night…an’ this terrible thing that’s happened to you has turned into the greatest gift for me.” He shook his head frantically. “An’ I don’ know how to…how can I be so happy about somethin’ that made the woman I love so miserable?”
“I’m not miserable, Spike.” She kissed his cheek. “Do I look miserable to you?”
“Sweetheart—”
“I really don’t know how I feel about it.”
“I’ve been with you every day, Buffy. You can’t tell me that this hasn’t—”
“It wasn’t. Not at first. But I…I’ve told you I don’t like the girl I was. It’s changed everything. I still hurt. I still…there are things I don’t understand, but you helped me through that.” She paused. “And I love you. I have more in death than I did in life…so what does that say about the sort of life I was leading?”
“Buffy—”
“I love you. I wouldn’t have let myself love you if this hadn’t happened.”
His vision was blurred with tears. God, he was such a bloody cry baby. “An’ that makes it okay?”
“I don’t know what it makes it. But I’d rather have you and be a vampire than not have you and be the Slayer.” She shrugged. “I’m happy that you’re happy, okay?”
“But I—”
She kissed him again. “Everything else…you understand that it’s only been a few days. The fact that you have me out here, saying this, feeling this…you make me forget without letting me forget. If this is how I feel in just a few days, what’s going to happen in a week? In a few months? You brought me here. I’m sitting here, and I’m not broken, and it’s because of you.”
Spike smiled through his tears. “I don’ know what I did,” he replied honestly. “I jus’…I…”
“You understood. You didn’t let me give up. You gave me what I needed.”
“I don’ want you to love me outta gratitude, Buffy.”
She shook her head. “I don’t. I love you because I love you. The fact that I’m grateful is just…there.” A pause. “There’s a reason I went to you, Spike. Not just because you’re the way I got out. Maybe I didn’t think of it when I was there…when I made the decision to go to you, but there was something.”
A trembling sigh shuddered through his lips. “God, I’ve done nothin’ to deserve this,” he said, heaving a breath and drawing them to their feet. “I’m a monster, luv. I don’ have a soul. Don’ ever forget that. I might be a tame monster, but I’m not the Cliff Note’s version. When this chip goes out, I don’ want—”
“I won’t.”
“What?”
She straightened her skirt as he watched her, then stepped forward and laced her fingers through his. “I’m not the girl I was,” she said. “I know what I’m getting myself into. I know what loving you means. What being with you means. Don’t try to talk me out of it; it won’t work.”
There was a beat, and then a large grin spread across his lips. “Let’s get home.”
Home. She really was beginning to think of the crypt as home. And the acceptance on her face warmed every inch of him. Their home. The crypt could be their home.
His home with the woman he loved. With the woman who loved him back.
There was simply no feeling in the world comparable to this.
No feeling at all.
*~*~*
Having the words between them changed everything.
It was as though she was seeing light for the first time. As though the world had only blinked into existence, and she was kept there by an anchor that would never betray her. It was strange, but warming beyond imagination. She was in a crypt in the graveyard, and she was home.
More than that, she was naked and spread on Spike’s bed, and he was looking at her like a man starved.
The man himself was standing at the edge of the bed, his hand stroking his erection almost subconsciously. “Christ,” he said. “You’re so lovely.”
She eyed him needily, licking her lips. “Spike…”
“Shhh…” The mattress dipped with his weight as he began to prowl toward her. He inhaled deeply, nuzzling his face between her legs. “You smell divine,” he growled, lapping at her slit. “An’ you taste…”
“Spike!”
“Mmm…” His tongue delved into her, licking her sweetly, before turning his attention to her swollen clit. “Yeh,” he decided. “You do taste like me.”
An alien giggle escaped her lips. “Perv,” Buffy replied affectionately.
He chuckled into her, and the vibrations felt so unexpectedly good that she didn’t realized she had gasped until she met his dancing eyes. “Get up here,” she whispered.
An insolent look crossed his face and he defiantly suckled her clit into his mouth. “You don’ want me here?”
“Oooh…”
A finger slid inside her. “I rather like it here.”
“Spike…”
“So lovely.” He dipped his tongue into her again before reclaiming her delicate button, slipping another finger into her tight passage and thrusting delicately. “The sounds you make…the way you taste.”
“Oh God!”
“But,” he conceded with a sigh, “’f you insist…” He drew his fingers out cautiously and sucked them into his mouth as he prowled up her body. The head of his cock teased her folds, slipping over her wet skin. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, his arms hooking under hers. Not a breath passed between them.
Then all tease was gone. He kissed her so tenderly she thought she might cry.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Love you.”
He sank inside her with a moan of completion.
And this was it. Home. In the arms of the man she loved. The man who loved her back. He was moving within her. His mouth was on her. She was swimming in him and it wasn’t enough. Too much but still not enough.
So much had changed in such a small amount of time.
Spike was murmuring into her throat. Whispering things that set her blood aflame. He drove her to new extremes without even realizing it. Made her want to weep her joy for the feel of it all.
He had replaced her pain with love.
And she wouldn’t let anything come between them.
To be continued in Chapter Fourteen: I’m Longing To Linger Till Dawn…
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