Part Five ~ That Old Black Magic

“Oh my God…”

‘Mine.’

That single word had her tensing herself to throw him off. She wasn’t as oblivious to vampire customs and mating rituals as her watcher believed her to be. What he had refused to stammer out when she questioned him, she had discovered on her own or with Willow’s help in the many dusty tomes that lined the shelves in his office at the library. Ancient, dusty books that held her enthralled as they revealed their dark secrets to her devouring eyes when her interest had been sparked by an entirely different vampire than the one holding himself braced over her.

He held himself in check, his body unmoving where it was intimately joined with hers. Her efforts to arch away only served to drive him further inside, his rampant girth stretching her virtually untried body to uncomfortable limits that had her instinctively lifting her legs to his hips in an attempt to ease the incredible pressure.

Sensing her fear and uncertainty, he frowned down at her, the obvious concern in his eyes confusing her even further. His behavior was completely at odds with what she had anticipated as he leaned down and sniffed delicately at her neck.

Anxious moments passed as he lingered there, his tongue coming out to trace over where he had bitten her before he pulled back and deliberately puffed currents of tepid air over the damp trail he’d left on her skin. He repeated this action several times until she found herself relaxing under its soothing effect. Moving until their bodies were melded from chest to toes, he continued to nuzzle and purr against her, alternating between gentle nips and flicks of his tongue along the smooth column of her throat.

Buffy lay completely boneless and submissive beneath him by the time he closed blunt teeth over his mark. It wasn’t painful in the least, but it was just enough to prove himself the dominant partner in this unexpected joining; his demon asserted its control over the slayer in her. Holding her firmly with his teeth gripping her neck, he began to move within her using slow, steady strokes.

Nothing in her previous experience had prepared her for the sheer intensity of sensation his measured movements were eliciting from her body. The discomfort of his invasion was quickly forgotten as she writhed beneath him. One trembling hand came up to grip his head, holding him at her neck, while the other found the flexing muscles of his backside, fingers sinking deeply into his flesh to urge him on.

His free hand skimmed down her side, following the indentation of her waist and the flare of her hip before coming to rest on the knee that gripped his hip. He pushed upward, opening her further. Buffy gasped heatedly as he sank even deeper inside her, reaching places she’d never dreamed existed.

Spike wrapped his arm around her upraised leg, holding it to his side as he quickened his pace. He leaned over her, his face inches from hers as he caught and held her wide green eyes within a prison of blue.

Before she lost herself completely in that swirling cerulean vortex, Buffy fisted both hands in his hair and dragged him down, smashing her mouth to his in a bruising kiss. A growl of approval rumbled from Spike as she nipped and sucked voraciously at his lips. The last vestiges of her docility were cast aside as she arched up to meet his forceful thrusts.

What little control she had left was diminishing rapidly, swept away by her body’s reaction to his touch. The hand gripping her knee had slid up to tease and fondle the sensitive tips of her breasts while the hand above her head twisted in her hair, tilting her head and baring her throat to him.

He tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in the curve of her neck. The instant he bit down, the tension that had been building within her womb seemed to explode, flooding her entire body with such a powerful glut of sensation that she actually blacked out for a moment. It went on, waves of intense pleasure coursing through her electrified nerve endings, only fading when he released his hold on her and lifted his head.

Buffy shivered but wasn’t sure if it was in reaction to the mind-shattering orgasm or the predatory gleam in the golden eyes staring down at her.

His body continued to rock against hers, his still-throbbing cock sliding deliciously in and out. The hand that was tangled in her hair tightened almost painfully as he guided her mouth to his throat. When she protested and tried to turn her face away, he barked out some foreign sounding words in a harsh, commanding voice.

“No!” she cried out, bringing her hands up to push against his shoulders.

The second her denial burst from her, he released his hold on her hair and leaned back to give her an obvious glare of irritation. Grateful that he wasn’t going to push the issue of her returning his claim, Buffy urged him back down. She found the faded scar on his throat and gave it a good lick before drawing the skin into her mouth and sucking as hard as she could, careful not to bite down and draw blood.

Spike lunged against her with a guttural moan, his hands grabbing at her hips to hold her beneath him as he came hard, hips still thrusting as he filled her with his thick spendings.

She pulled her mouth away as he slumped across her body with a groan of repletion. He wasn’t still for long, though. He rolled off to the side and drew her to him, her back against his front as he cuddled her close and purred into the scented tangle of her hair.

Buffy only meant to rest her eyes for a moment. She really needed to try and make Spike understand that she had to leave for a while, but that she would be back.

Lulled by the vibration of the vampire’s chest and the soothing circles his fingers were brushing up and down her hip and thigh, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

~*~*~

She woke a few hours later with a raging thirst, pinned to the mattress by a sleeping vampire. Buffy scooted stealthily to the edge of the bed, carefully sliding her pillow under the arm that Spike had draped over her waist in his sleep. Gathering her scattered clothing, she dressed quickly in the darkness.

It was while she was searching for her shoes that she found the chains under the bed. Making as little noise as possible, she inched the restraints out and weighed them contemplatively. He was going to be seriously pissed when he woke up to find himself bound to the bed, but her choices were severely limited. Spike was a killer and his feral state only served to make him even more unpredictable. There was no way she could risk him roaming free.

It would take a miracle and a lot of fancy maneuvering to get him hog-tied, but they just might be strong enough to hold him until she could get back this evening with some blood.

The fates were smiling down on her for a change. Either he was exhausted or he simply didn’t sense that she might be a threat to him, because he didn’t wake up. There were a few tense moments when she’d had to roll him over onto his back to attach the chains on the far side of the bed to his arm and leg, but she finally managed to finish restraining him.

Once the chains were in place, she couldn’t help but admire the view. He really was divine. She had thought so from her first glimpse of him outside the Bronze, but that attraction alone wasn’t responsible for her earlier actions. Something deep inside her had responded without restraint to his dominance and she just couldn’t bring herself to be disgusted by what had come of it.

Before she realized what she was doing, she leaned over and pressed a tiny kiss on his sleep-softened mouth. Spike stirred restlessly for a few moments, causing Buffy to nearly pass out as she held her breath until he relaxed once more.

Chiding herself for her stupid whimsy, she gave the still figure one last look and made her way out of the warehouse, bound for home. It was too much to hope for that her mom hadn’t noticed her absence. Joyce had finally accepted the truth of her daughter’s destiny, but still found it difficult to treat her as anything but a teenaged girl.

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the house and saw that her mother’s SUV was gone from the drive. Not that she was dense enough to think she was in the clear. The inevitable confrontation was just postponed.

Letting herself in, she took the stairs in several impatient leaps. She felt a powerful urge to get cleaned up and be gone before anyone showed up looking for her. The phone rang constantly while she showered and dressed, and when she checked the caller ID it was filled with calls from Giles and Willow.

Her responsibility to her watcher and friends warred with the inexplicable need she felt to get back to Spike. One hand was hovering indecisively over the phone when the front door slammed open and Joyce stormed in.

“Buffy Anne Summers! You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, young lady. I want to know where you’ve been for the past—” Joyce glanced at her watch. “Twenty hours!”

~*~*~

Buffy slouched in the passenger seat of the car; arms folded tightly and pout firmly in place.

Valuable time had been wasted arguing with her mom over her insistence on driving Buffy back to the warehouse with Spike’s blood. No matter which argument she used, Joyce had shot it down, refusing to give an inch.

“I can be just as stubborn as you, missy. Now, get in the car.”

So she was pouting. What good were supernatural powers when you had the eminent threat of being grounded over your head? The Powers That Be and the Council of Watchers had it totally wrong. They didn’t need a Slayer. All they needed was one massively overprotective mother on a mission!

Joyce cast her daughter an impatient glance as she parked the car in the shade of the warehouse.

“Are you sure this is the right place? It looks unsafe to me.” She reached down to open her door and winced as Buffy’s hand closed over her wrist in a painful grip.

“What are you doing? You are NOT getting out of this car, Mom. You’re gonna sit right here and wait on me, remember?”

“I’ll do no such thing…”

Unfortunately for Joyce, Buffy had anticipated this argument. In seconds the hand that still clasped the steering wheel was wearing a bulky silver bracelet while its mate was snapped around the steering wheel itself and a triumphant slayer was waving the key under her mother’s nose.

“You evil, unconscionable child!” Joyce sputtered as Buffy made sure that a bottle of water and a bag of Fritos were within easy reach. “And do I even want to know why you have a pair of handcuffs?”

“Sit tight, Mom. I’ll be back as quick as I can,” she informed her indignant parent gleefully. She grabbed the sack of blood and jumped out of the car, slamming the door on some pretty impressive cursing.

The warehouse was pleasantly cool after the heat of the California midday. Buffy entered cautiously, her eyes searching every shift in the shadows. Once her eyes had adjusted to the change in light, all she had to do was follow the outraged growls.

Oh yeah. He was pissed. Morbidly so.

As soon as he caught her scent, he went wild; snarling horribly and lunging at his restraints to get to her. There was just enough leeway in the chains for him to get to his knees, and as he strained towards her, the iron links creaked alarmingly.

Buffy held back for a moment, busying herself with lighting the few candles she could find and studying him carefully as she tried to decide the best way to approach him. When he refused to settle down, she shrugged and walked right up to him, her right cross leading the way.

Spike flew backwards from the impact of her fist against his jaw. The back of his skull cracked against the headboard with a hollow thud and he dropped heavily to the mattress. He lifted his head and shook it dazedly before his eyes rolled back and he blacked out.

She rubbed her bruised knuckles with a heavy sigh before making her way around the bed and tightening the chains. When she finished she leaned against one of the tall posts, her eyes drinking in the sight of all that naked skin.

His nudity was the biggest reason she hadn’t wanted her mother to follow her inside. The thought of anyone else seeing him in all his glory filled her with searing jealousy. Even in repose the muscles of his chest and abdomen looked rock hard and her fingers itched to familiarize themselves with all that yummy goodness. Instead she contented herself with gently trailing her fingers over his face and forehead in an apologetic caress.

When he started to stir, she stepped back quickly and went to get the first bag of blood.

“C’mon, Spike, I know I didn’t hit you that hard. Wake up and drink your dinner,” she sang cajolingly as she waved the bag under his nose enticingly.

His eyes popped open, sparks flaring in their golden depths as he glared, first at her, and then at the packet of pig’s blood. He gave an offended snort and turned his nose up at it.

Buffy huffed indignantly. “Oh, come ON. You’ve gotta be kidding me! Whoever heard of a finicky vampire?” She tried once more, shoving it close to his mouth and getting snapped at viciously for her trouble.

“Hey! Watch it, mister. What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded.

Spike continued to glare at her, his expression similar to that of a sullen two-year-old minus the impressive show of fangs. He spat something at her in the same strange sounding dialect he’d used earlier and turned his head stubbornly away from her.

“Stop being an ass about this, Spike. I don’t have time to baby you right now, so eat!”

When he continued to resist, Buffy lost what remained of her temper and flung the blood across the room in a fit of pique. The quick look of approval from the contrary vampire only served to piss her off even more.

“Look what you made me do, you ingrate! Now I only have one bag left and that was supposed to be for tomorrow. What, you think the only thing I have to do with my time is run around town finding blood for your sorry ass?” she ranted, stomping back to the table and snatching up the spare packet. Struggling to rein in her temper, she tried again to coerce him into biting through the bag.

This time she didn’t get the chance to toss the offending liquid after its predecessor. The chain holding his left hand broke with an ominous clank and he ripped the bag away from her with a disgusted snarl.

Before she could blink, the far wall was a dripping red canvas and his hand was latched painfully around her wrist. Spike twisted sharply, wringing a pained cry from her as he dragged her down on top of him.

Buffy scrambled to put some distance between them, wincing as the small bones in her wrist ground together alarmingly. She squirmed in his grip, her breath rasping in and out as she fought to mask her rising panic with full blown temper.

“Great! Just great! Am I supposed to let you starve to death? Fine. That’s fine. It’s no skin off my ass if you wither away to nothing, you ungrateful jerk!”

He frowned at her ferociously as he struggled to keep up with her virulent tirade, his narrowed eyes focused intently on her pink lips as she fussed at him.

Her pause for breath was her downfall.

The punishing touch at her wrist was transferred with lightening speed to the back of her neck. Panic skipped through her brain; a warning of things to come that she just wasn’t prepared to handle as he hauled her down and covered her mouth with his.

NEXT~