Harsh Truths 
 Lisa Y Drexel

I basically added on to my snippet, Harsh Realities, and made it a story...imagine Spike managing to subdue Buffy during their fight in the Quad during the S4 episode, Harsh Light of Day...NC-17!

Prologue

It wasn't until Spike saw her standing there. For one fleeting second, everything became clear.

The plan. Harm. The ring. Invincibility.

All of it.

She was so beautiful...his cock instantly hardened as lust and want surged through him...battling for supremacy.

More than anything, he wanted to drop the boy, ditch Harm, kill her date and take her, the one person in this bleeding world that could bring him down to his knees, and claim her forever.

How in the bleeding hell did he go from Spike, the Slayer of Slayers, to a lovelorn, lovesick Nancy-boy?

How could he, for Satan's sake, fall in love with the Slayer?

And as soon as he thought that, he felt his demon surge—struggling to break through, scream in denial—kill, rampage—create havoc—anything but acknowledge the truth.

The horrible truth.

That he had done all of this just so he could run back into the safety of his Dark Princess' arms—the only place he was even close to being free from the Slayer's pull.

And then he heard her whisper his name and he knew—he had to kill her or possess her because he wouldn't—couldn't live in this state of need any longer.

It ended here.

One way or another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was just something about Spike that always got to her.

That he was still undead and kicking was a testament to that. Out of all the demons and vampires that Buffy had faced...from Lothos to Kakistos to the Judge...oh yeah, can't forget the Order of Taraka or The Three...to know that Spike was still alive and obviously had something that none of the others had, amazed her.

She had faced him in battle more times than even Angel's demonic half, Angelus, and yet Spike still lived. She had joined forces with Spike to save the world, and yet he still lived.

She had fought physically, verbally, psychologically and emotionally with him—and yet he still walked away. Granted, sometimes he was the more injured party, other times she was—but yet he still lived.

And now, here she was, feeling probably worse about herself than she had since Angel lost his soul, facing Spike while he was invincible—in the daylight no less—and for the first time since she had met him two years before, she feared that maybe he would just kill her.

Or something even worse.

And then suddenly he had her pinned on the ground...his legs curled around hers, his hard cock pressing down on her sex, her arms held above her head. Grinning down at her, he dipped his head and licked her neck—running his tongue over the scarred twin bite marks left by Angel.

Despite her fear and anger and a hundred other indescribable emotions that flooded her mind, she felt her sex tingle in excitement and she nearly whimpered out loud.

God damn him, she thought to herself.

"Your body remembers, doesn't it luv?" he whispered in her ear as his tongue traced the outer rim and dipped it into her orifice.

"Spike!" she managed to growl out as her body began to tingle all-over and a wonderful shiver tickled her senses. God, she really hated him. "Just get it over with!"

He chuckled softly, his voice sounding oddly pleased. "It's only just begun, Slayer..."

It was then that he bit her.

She wished she could say it hurt and that the pain was all she could think about. She wished that she could say that she died like the good, little slayer she was—ignoring the darkness and desire flooding her system. She wished she could say she hadn't cum as he sucked on her neck all the while kneading her breasts and pushing his jeans-covered rock hard cock onto her sex...

She wished she could say all those things, but unfortunately none of them would be true.

Buffy's last thought before she passed out was she really, really hoped he planned on killing her because the alternative was just too unnerving to contemplate.

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Chapter one

She was cold.

That was the first thing she noticed when she woke up. Still groggy, she tried reaching for the blanket on her bed and found that she couldn't—her hand was restrained. She yanked on her other hand and it too was held tight. Her body arched upwards as she pulled on her legs and found they too were bound.

And then she a cool breeze caress her body, causing her nipples to harden as a new set of goosebumps covered her body.

She was naked.

Her eyes snapped open as she desperately tried squashing the fear that was coiling in her gut.

And then she remembered everything that had happened to her before she had passed out. Spike and her fighting in the Quad...him managing to pin her down—immobilizing her, him drinking from her all the while playing with her body—her earth-shattering orgasm—one, that had even beat the climax she had when she had forced Angel to feed from her five months before...

Spike.

She slammed her head back down on the bed repeatedly as she silently berated herself for allowing him to get the upper hand—to finally win this ongoing battle the two had fought for over the past two years...

She was so fucked.

"Shit!" she cursed under her breath as her eyes tried searching the dim room. From what she could see, she was in a cold stone room haphazardly decorated to serve as a bedroom. Or at least to have one huge, queen size bed in it. The same and only one that she was in—shackled, spread-eagle with just enough give that she could move her arms and legs at least two inches, but unfortunately not enough to do any serious damage to her captor. A position that, incidentally, did wonders for making her feel incredibly vulnerable and open for him.

God, had she mentioned yet how much she hated him?

Taking a deep breath through her nose, she nearly gagged at the sweet smell of sewage and decay, and sighed loudly. She was in one of the underground areas of town—if she was even still in Sunnydale.

Who knew how long she had been unconscious?

Oh, and did she mention the satin sheets? The ones that felt so good underneath her sore and bruised body?

God damnit, she really hated him.

Or at least she hoped it was Spike that she hated. She didn't know if she could handle another demon that wanted her naked and spread open for his amusement. That may just be in the category of too-much-for-Buffy-to-deal-with-right-now.

That decided, she pushed it out of her mind and tugged on the chains once again. Either they were enchanted or made of some super, slayer-proof steel, because they would not give.

Or there was the third possibility...

He had drugged her just like the council had the year before for her little test.

Groaning, she banged her head on the bed a few more times in a hopeless attempt to turn her brain off. She really didn't need to think about things that one, she didn't know if they were even true and two, at the moment she could do nothing about them.

"So Summers, where's that leave you now?" she whispered to herself, nearly jumping at how eerie her voice sounded in this dark chamber that served as her prison.

Right back where she started—Spike.

What the hell did he want with her now?

God damn, girl, you aren't stupid—what in the fuck do you think he wants with you? her own personal inner demon asked her.

And it was right. Buffy knew exactly what he wanted. It was the same thing she had wanted at various times in her life; especially when she had been just so tired of living, slaying and fighting that she had just wanted to die—to say the hell with it and everything—and let Spike be the one to take her life. But her fantasies had always made sure that Spike would make it a good, enjoyable last ride...let her totally experience the pleasure and it be out of her control so her pesky little conscience couldn't interrupt her and tell her why having wild and crazy sex with Spike was so bad and so wrong...

Granted, it had been almost year since she had felt the need to play that particular scene out in her head. But after Angel had lost his soul, it had been a reoccurring fantasy of hers. It was just so much easier to fantasize about Spike than it had been about Angelus. Or even Angel. Not only did thinking of Angel hurt her heart; it also made her confrontations with Angelus even more emotionally draining than they were normally. Somehow, Angelus always could tell when Buffy thought of his souled-counterpart and used it against her at every opportunity.

She had learned early on, to relegate all her Angel fantasies to a locked area in her heart and mind, so he wouldn't have the ammunition he needed to bring her down to her knees.

But Spike had been safe.

At least to her heart.

Now, a year and a half later, she wasn't so sure she could say the same thing.

She didn't quite know when her feelings for her nemesis changed, but they had in the past year and half. Maybe it was their alliance to rid the world of Angelus once and for all. Or maybe it was seeing him drink hot cocoa with her mother. Or it could've been the way all three of them fought together against Trick's boys—as if it was something that had always been, not something that had never been before...

Or it could be that underneath that asshole, evil vamp exterior, was someone that loved as deeply as she had—without reservations—so much like the way she had wanted it to be with Angel.

"Oh God, I'm so fucked," she said softly as she stared at the closed door on the other side of the room. "I am so totally, utterly and completely fucked."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike couldn't believe his luck. Finally, after all this time, he had managed to not only beat the slayer and taste her ambrosia-like blood, but in just a few moments, he would finally get to sink more than just his fangs into her hot, wanting body.

And if her hole was as enticing as her blood was, he knew he was in for a good time. And so was she, if his suspicions were true.

She wanted him.

And not just because he was of the same bloodline as the Poof but because of who he was himself. He had drunk from other humans that had been claimed by someone other than him before and none of them responded the way the slayer had to him.

That was all for him.

Damn, if unlife wasn't grand! he thought to himself as he nearly skipped down the hall towards her room.

And it was. He found the ring, dusted Harmony and bested the slayer—everything that he had set out to do once he had heard of the Gem of Amara and where it was located. Granted, he hadn't planned on kidnapping the slayer and taking her to his bed, but once he saw her, he knew he couldn't—wouldn't walk away from her this time.

He had to have her.

Out of everyone he had faced, she was the one person other than his sire himself that he had been unable to beat.

And he needed to conquer her—especially after Dru leaving him for that bleeding fungus demon. That had been the last straw. After over 130 years, it was over. Dru had managed to do what Spike had thought to be impossible—kill his love for his Dark Goddess. And if he lived to be a thousand years old, he hoped he never had to see her again.

That's why the slayer was so important to him. If he could seduce not only her body, but her heart, he would feel somewhat redeemed. Granted, she was the slayer but she had also been his sire's obsession, both souled and not, and that made all the difference in the world in Spike's mind. Angelus, whether he wanted Dru or not, ended up with Druscilla's heart. It was only fair that Spike would get the slayer's.

And it didn't hurt that she was a beauty either.

Grinning to himself, he stopped in front of the closed door and shut his eyes—extending his senses into the other room. Within seconds, he could tell the slayer had woken up by the frantic beating of her heart and muttered curses that filled the otherwise silent room.

Straightening his shoulders, he took a deep, unneeded breath and turned the knob. "Showtime," he uttered softly and stepped into the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy felt him before she saw him.

How or why she could differentiate between him and other vampires, she wasn't too sure, but she had noticed it the year before when he had come back to Sunnydale.

The only other vampire she could recognize in that manner had been Angel.

She really hoped it had to do with the bloodline and not because of some deep, unconscious desire to single that annoying pain in her ass out from the other bloodsuckers she had the misfortune of dealing with.

But knowing her luck, it was the former and not the latter.

She was so fucked.

As he stepped inside the room, she instantly blushed, momentarily closing her eyes. Although she knew that was a really, really, stupid thing to do, she couldn't help herself. Buffy knew that if Spike saw her eyes at that moment, the battle would be over before it even began. Her body was already responding amicably to his presence, remembering all too well the pleasure it received from his bite. Her Id was whispering naughty thoughts into her mind...reminding her that it had been way too long since she had slept with a man—well a real man—Parker didn't really count, did he? —And wouldn't it be nice to feel Spike's cool hands caress her fevered body?

It wasn't until she heard a low rumble that she realized she had groaned out loud.

"Hello cutie," Spike said, his voice low and husky as she felt the bed dip with his weight. "Come on, pet, open those lovely eyes."

Taking a deep breath, she finally did, meeting his cool, appraising gaze. "What the hell are you doing, Spike? Why am I even still alive?"

His eyebrow arched as he leaned back in the bed, swinging his legs up so he was lying next to her. He turned to his side, facing Buffy, smiling as he ran a cool finger down her face to her ear, causing the slayer to shiver in response. "So tell me love, did you cum like that for the Master when he sipped your blood? Or was that response just for me and Peaches?"

She clamped her eyes shut as her body became even more flushed. "Fuck you, Spike."

Suddenly, he was on top of her, his hands cupping her face, forcing her head to face forward. And then she felt his lips whisper against hers. "That's the whole point, slayer. Why else would I bring you here? If I wanted to just kill you, I could've done that when we were fighting earlier." One of his hands dropped to her chest and cupped her bare breasts. "So beautiful, slayer...no wonder the Ponce lost his soul."

"Leave Angel out of this," she whispered through her clenched teeth.

He flicked one of her nipples, causing it to harden beneath his touch. "Why should I, luv? He's the reason we're here in my bed instead of you dead at my feet," he said softly against her chest seconds before his tongue teased that same breast.

A rush of heat filled her body, breaking her shaky resistance to him even more. Biting her bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, she forced her eyes to remain open as she glared at him. "What?"

He looked up from his ministrations and his eyes landed on her lip as they flashed yellow at the sight of her blood. He leaned over, darting his tongue on and licked the dollop of blood that seeped out from her wound.

She shuddered.

He lifted his head, and grinned down at her, obviously pleased at her reaction to him. "He stole my woman—I steal his. Simple really."

Shutting her eyes against the tears all the while her body ached for Spike's cool touch, she forced herself to turn her head away from him and sighed helplessly. "I'm not his woman anymore, Spike. He left."

His chest rumbled as she heard him let out a sharp, cold laugh. The silk of his shirt rubbed seductively against her sensitive breasts, igniting the fire that was burning through her even more—despite the ache she felt in her heart.

His fingers grabbed her chin and forcibly turned her head back to him. "He does that, luv. He's an expert at leaving. Left me. Left Dru. And now he's left you. Let me make it better, just like I made it better for Dru."

Her eyes flashed angrily at him. "You're giving me a choice, Spike? Be your sex slave or what? Die? Be turned? What?"

Grinning maliciously, he bent his head down as his fingers held her head still and ran his tongue seductively along her bottom lip, stopping only after she whimpered softly. "Sex slave...I like the sound of that."

Goosebumps broke out all over her body as she felt her sex begin to ache with need. Oh God, she thought to herself as her eyes shut in supplication. How can I fight this when there's so much of me that wants him...

"And from the smell of it, you like it as well—"

"Spike—" She had planned to yell at him, but when she heard his name fall from her lips, it sounded more like a needy moan from a sex-starved kitten than a demand from a pissed off slayer.

She wasn't going to win this, was she?

"Yes?" He asked as he began peppering her face with short, wet kisses until he reached her ear. "What is it, pet?"

"Why?" she asked in between her clenched teeth as her eyes shot open. When did she close them? "Why are you doing this?"

"Because," he said, finally releasing his hold on her chin as he sat up. His fingers began unbuttoning his shirt and seconds later he was shrugging it off. "I can...that's why. That's one of the things that I love about being a demon—I can do what I want, when I want and who I want. And," he paused as he pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it over the side of the bed. "Right now, I want to pound your supple, little body into this mattress until I hear you scream my name in pleasure." He undid the top button on his jeans and slowly pulled the zipper down, making sure he had her attention.

Didn't he realize he had that the moment he stepped into the room? She asked herself as she watched his cock pop out of the now-opened fly. Great, now I know why I always felt him so distinctly pressed up against me...he goes commando!

She felt her heart begin beating out of control when she realized how big he was. Bigger than Parker...he maybe even beat Angel in that department, though Buffy wouldn't know because it had been so dark that one time they were together.

And so hard, her Id pointed out to her. That's all for you, girlfriend. He wants you...here's your fantasy coming to life...you, tied up and him at the reins...

What else could you ask for?

A tomorrow, Buffy answered herself as she watched him kick off his boots and shove his pants down his narrow hips. And a tomorrow after that...lots of tomorrows with a beating heart....

And sun...ice cream and cheese. College and slaying. She didn't want to die in the throes of passion, even if it was with the star of her two-year-long fantasy. She wanted to live...

Suddenly she realized he was naked and kneeling there, above her, definitely aroused as his eyes raked her body. She could feel herself flush even more, every place his eyes touched and silently wondered if this was indeed, it.

Great, fabulous sex and then death.

Biting her bottom lip, she looked up at his face and was surprised to see that he was watching her as well. "Is that the only reason? That you can? After you're done, what then?"

His eyes shut as he growled softly. "You're not going to let this go, are you?' Do I have to gag you as well?" He asked her as he fell on top of her, his eyes so dark they were nearly black. "Shut that pretty mouth of yours up?" He asked, once again whispering against her lips. "I'm not letting you go, Slayer, so you can just forget it and keep that trap of yours shut!" He stopped and glared at her. "Fuck it," he growled, his eyes flashing seconds before he began kissing her.

Even as his tongue invaded her mouth and her body screamed in relief that he was finally touching her, she felt her eyes fill with tears. She couldn't let it go. She couldn't just fuck him and walk away. That is, if he let her walk away. Maybe he was planning on keeping her, tied up on this bed, and using her for his pleasure.

Damnit, I'm the slayer! She inwardly screamed as she felt his fingers trail down her body, arousing her even more. They stopped at her sex, tickling her hairs before one finger ran down the length of her sopping slit. Moaning in his mouth, she felt her body surge upwards as if to capture his fingers and bring them inside of her.

He broke the kiss, leaving her panting for air as his lips tickled her neck, finally stopping at her bite marks. Before she could even begin to prepare herself, he slipped his fangs into her neck and began sipping her life's essence.

Almost immediately, she felt herself clamp down on his fingers as her body spiraled out of control...a vampire's whore...that's what I am, she thought to herself as she exploded in pleasure.

The orgasm was so intense and so quick, she was still floating on that wave of pleasure when she felt him sink into her so deeply she knew then, if she survived this, no other man would ever be able to fill her like he had.

Like Spike was doing.

He had just scarred her for life.

In and out he moved, methodically—not frantically—as he languidly licked her bite marks and whispered his lust and need for her against her hot skin.

At first his hands were everywhere, as if he were trying to map out her body—memorize it forever—but finally, they stopped at her face, holding her head still as he stared intensely into her eyes.

Almost too quickly, she felt her body once again sing in pleasure and as she shouted out his name. His movements then became ragged and needy. Minutes later, he too climaxed, her name on his lips.

His eyes finally opened and for just a fleeting second, they were cold and stoic, then they seemed to soften, the corners crinkled as he wiped her wet face. "Oh pet," he said softly and gently kissed her lips.

Her eyes widened once she realized where she had seen that look on his face before...

Forever ago, it seemed.

Back when she believed Angel's soul was permanent and their love could survive anything...even his two wayward childers.

Back when the only woman Spike ever saw was Drusilla...his love of his unlife.

Back when everything was so much clearer and black and white. When she knew who were the good guys and who were the bad guys.

Before Angelus, Acathla, the truce...before her life had become unmanageable and out of control.

Back when she would've never even imagined having lusty thoughts about her mortal enemy, an unsouled vampire that still could love. That is, until she saw that look he gave Drusilla as Buffy had her stake posed at the female vampire's heart...a look that screamed out love, honor and cherish...all the concepts that she had, before that night, believed only came from having a soul.

And at that moment, her world changed as the implications sunk in. Soulless demons could love.

Spike loved.

Spike loved Drusilla.

And now, two years later, that same look was just directed at her.

When did her life get so complicated? She asked as she watched his head drop onto her shoulder and his arms spread out to touch her bound hands—clasping them tightly in his.

Her eyes began closing, despite the million questions that were running through her mind. Finally, she just gave up and let herself drift off to sleep while listening to his purrs against neck—uncaring that he was still inside of her.

There's always tomorrow, she thought to herself. I'll talk to him tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Buffy finally woke up, the last thing she expected to see was she untied and a stack of clean clothes sitting on the chair by the bed.

And Spike was nowhere to be found.

Her chest tightened as her eyes filled with tears...he left her...just like they all did. Sobbing, she rolled over in bed and hugged a pillow to face and just let her emotions go. For over six months, she kept everything inside...letting it harden her and her heart.

Somehow Spike managed to break through those walls.

Once she was cried out, she sat up as the sheet fell from her naked body. She reached over to the pile of clothes to grab them, when she saw a sheet of paper sitting on top of her shirt.

Her heart raced as she picked it up and began to read. It said:

Slayer...

I lied. I couldn't keep you...it just wasn't right.

Until the next time,

Spike

For five minutes, she sat there, with the letter pressed against her chest as silent tears ran down her face.

An hour later, she opened her dorm room door and stumbled inside, tears still running down her cheeks. She hadn't even realized Willow had been there, until her friend wrapped her arms around Buffy and let the slayer grieve in the safety of her best friend's arms.

Emotionally and physically exhausted, Buffy soon drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with visions of a pale, blue-eyed Spike, whispering his desire for her as he filled that empty place in her being.

The End