Lovers Run
by Megan
Warnings: well, you could easily take this the wrong way. Could be considered
rape, but tongue in my cheek, not yours. Also, beware of cliches. It's
riddled, I'm sure.
Thanks: to BSB for her fantastic last minute saving.
She’d always suspected that she had to be ready for the unexpected, but this
was kinda pushing it.
Buffy at first refused to open her eyes, instead trying to use her senses to
work out what the hell she’d managed to get caught in this time. Half of her
body felt cold, and oddly overly sensitised. One tiny move of her leg and she
came to the most alarming conclusion that she was naked.
Ooookay. That was…freaky, but she could deal. Next then. The cold feeling—a
small shift and a moan and she made startling conclusion number two. Not alone.
And cold. OMG! Vampire, her brain screamed, and yet she kept her eyes jammed
tightly closed.
Next sensation, she thought almost wildly, praying that memory would strike soon
and she wasn’t going to find she was naked, lying down against a very feral
Angelus. ‘Cause that hard thing poking her in the thigh, so wasn’t a torch. Not
with the wet weepy stuff painting her skin with ickyness.
There was a dull pain in her neck and a fire in her crotch—which she so was
praying didn’t mean what she thought it did. Touch was needed now, and as Buffy
placed her warm hand between her legs, cupped her bare pussy and came away dry,
she didn’t know whether to be happy, or depressed. The heat was escalating
though as she felt a reverent licking at her throat, and then she realised she
had fangs lodged there, slowly sucking her blood and firing up her body.
Buffy’s eyes shot open as a hand swept softly over her belly and settled where
her own had just been. She didn’t see anything—it was all black, and in some
strange world where she wasn’t a responsible slayer, she was weirdly okay with
that.
Cool hands separated her lips and slipped into her wetness. Fingers wiggling
inside her as fangs lingered in her throat. Buffy’s feet slipped up the bed,
bracing against the rough covering as she moved her hips to a position for more.
As a thumb brushed her clit and she felt like jumping into the sky, images from
before she was knocked out began to replay behind her eyes.
Angel, pummelled by vamps and buried under the magic shop’s door. Spike kicking
him in the head and then choking the breath from her body. Oh. By the time she’d
gathered the sense to react, she could feel something else probing at her
slickened entry and a respectful weight lowering itself over the top of her. A
cock entered her as the fangs retracted, and Buffy couldn’t help but be thrilled
at the overwhelming itch as her walls expanded and made way for the smooth
intruder. He rubbed back and forth with a maddening slowness, tongue licking her
neck and then kissing a path to her shoulders.
Her nipples ached and just as she was about to scream, blunt teeth clamped
around one and sucked wildly. It was hot, and as the coolness of his cock rubbed
warm within her, Buffy felt a lack of need to actually know who it was.
It was wild, forbidden, and hello! Vampire. But it felt so good, and it stroked
some fire in her that had simmered away for a year with no real hope of being
quenched till now. And this being was soothing her rather well.
There was purring, and if that wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d ever heard, then
she wasn’t Buffy the Vampire Slayer Layer. She could think in terms like that,
right? Her only two experiences were with vamps, it seemed to be a trend. And
hey, as long as he kept that cock moving and stirring the flame inside, she was
absolutely with the okay.
Buffy felt the soft, cool undersides of upper arms and elbows as they settled
just above her shoulders, gathering leverage to settle more fully over the top
of her. Hands tangled in her hair, and despite not having a clue with whom she
was so intimately joined, she saw in her mind clear blue eyes that burned her to
her soul. Brown appeared too murky in her imagination—too boring and nowhere
near decadent or passionate.
A cool chest brushed against her nipples and she could feel the muscles of his
belly as he swept back and forth over her. That was so it. She was sick of her
hands being inactive and lying there like a lump while she was being pounded
unmercilessly.
Buffy arched her back so as to feel more of that sweet torturous coolness, and
then wound her legs around slim hips. The skin felt smooth, and without any
thought to what she was doing, her arms sought her stranger’s back, nails
digging holes as her pleasure almost melted her brain.
Was she some kind of slayer ho for loving this? For feeling the rush of letting
go and being found attractive by someone she didn’t know? Mentally shrugging,
Buffy decided to have the mental breakdown about it later. For now, she was
consumed in the moment. Cool air brushed against her skin as a groan swept
across her neck.
And then there were lips.
She somehow hadn’t expected that, and now that the moment had obviously
appeared, she took seconds of being completely grossed out before a tongue
wormed its way into her mouth and she suddenly found it erotic and nowhere near
nasty.
She hoped and prayed she felt the same when she had the courage to remove the
blindfold and see her bed buddy. Meanwhile, she dived into the kiss, feeling the
same hunger her partner seemed to as they fought each other. For dominance? She
didn’t know, just releasing herself to the sensation of cool tongue tracing her
lips, sucking them in as he gently nibbled his way around her mouth.
“Mmmmm, Spike.” She recoiled, horrified and wondering where that demented
thought had come from, but then the growl against her breast sent her rigid body
into shuddering particles of lust and she suddenly didn’t care how that name
popped up in relation to being fucked within an inch of her life.
It was just logical. He was the last vamp she’d seen—other than Angel, and if
this had been her boyfriend she could well have suffered being bitten just about
now for calling him THAT name.
That tasty vampiric growl sent her to Hypersensitivity Land and she could feel
the prominent ridges of the cock inside her as it slid in and out, gathering
speed now as she arched into each and every thrust. Lips left hers and dived for
her throat, licking and sucking her flesh until she felt incomprehensible with
speech. Little grunts indicated each height she reached, her pussy squeezing
against the thick cock and wanting more and more despite getting all there was.
And then he threw himself into it—ripped off the black blindfold made of his
torn tee and stared hard into slayer eyes as his pelvis pumped his shaft into
her. Despite being on the edge, craving to come hard and fast, he took the risk,
allowing the Slayer to see him as he fucked her blind.
Ridges cracked his face and fangs dropped and salivated. Yet he didn’t dive for
her throat, watched instead the play of emotions over her face. The lust made
him purr, but he hated the confusion. There was nothing confusing about it. He
knew, and now so did she.
He had her and she wouldn’t ever go back to Angel after him.
Muscles tightened around him and he felt the grip almost tear his cock from his
body.
She held him tight—and he couldn’t move, just whimpered as her muscles pulsed
frantically around him and finishing his action. He couldn’t hold back, rubbed
his palms over her nipples as he eyed his marks on her neck.
“See me, baby. Not big, not brooding. Totally hot for you.” And he shoved his
cock in her deep before pausing, thanking his maker that she stopped flexing for
the vital second it took for him to get further in. “An’ even if I’m not here
tomorrow, you can bet if I was I’d want you over and over again. Don’t you
bloody forget it.”
The end was near and he could feel her sweat, see how wide her eyes were as he
tweaked a bud and led her screaming into his favourite place.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it through. Spike will take care of you.” And he
was on her neck, biting again over his healing marks as she bucked at him in
orgasm. Blood splashed to the back of his throat and he almost blacked out with
the pleasure, belatedly noticing the scream of Buffy in his ear.
One more thrust shut her voice up and he felt his cock almost take off the tip
in its rush to release the build-up of fluid. Her legs tightened around his
middle, nails clawing his back…and then she laughed. Free. Elated. Beautiful.
It was joyous, left him awestruck as he felt the slow come down of his own high.
Laughing all around him.
The fear was awful. He never felt fear. He kissed her once and gave her one
longing look before he was up, running from whatever strangeness had settled in
his head and heart.
Dru was off her rocker—she couldn’t be right about this. Laughing. What the
bloody hell did it mean?
Frantic looks around the room located an empty bottle or two of booze, and his
gear.
“Now, the next time bloody Dru tells me she sees the Slayer all around me,
she’ll have some fact to back it up with.” He smirked and cockily slipped
himself back in his pants, snapping them back together before threading his belt
back on. Shoes, coat and he was at the door, blowing her a kiss and staring at
her naked, bitten and ravaged body.
“Toodles, sweets.”
And William the Bloody was gone.
Just as well. She didn’t think she had the energy to find a stake.
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