Chapter Fourteen
By Megan
A frantic chicken found its way up into the loft and came hurtling with its terrified cackle straight at Spike’s groin. Its beak pecked his privates before it squawked and was shuttled forcefully to the nearest wall.
“Bloody hell, what’s got the feather flock all a flutter?”
“Ooh, don’t say that five times fast!” Buffy shot out around her giggles before being forced up when the particularly loud bellow of a cow had them both jumping over the side of the loft and to the lower floor. “Oh crap.”
Spike swivelled his head to look at her, and caught the wave of her breasts as she sucked in some deep breaths and then covered as much flesh as she could with her hands, an embarrassed blush tinging her cheeks.
“None of that now, Slayer,” he leered. And then they were forcefully made aware of the slobbering cow munching monster that held a heifer under its gigantic arm. Its eyes were monstrous, as big as saucers and shining a vomit shade of green while its gaping maw showed off row upon row of sharp teeth. The jaw snapped threateningly and then it raised the quivering animal and prepared for the first bite.
Buffy gasped, eyeing the poor doomed animal with something akin to horror. “Put that cow down, you…you…cow killer!”
The thing turned to them, its eyes almost hypnotic as it focused precisely, opened its great slashing food hole and blew them to the back of the barn with its powerful growl. Buffy hit her head against the wall. “Owwww.” And without a second to recover, she was on her feet and running, hastily grabbing at the farming pitch fork leaning against the wall as she catapulted forward. She never even got to grip it before another almighty horn-like gust of ear shattering roar had her flipping head over heel back to stop beside Spike.
“Really need to go at it together, luv. Need to split its attentions so it can only blow one of us at a time.”
Buffy’s eyes were wider than usual. “You can let it blow you all you like, Spike. But no way are those teeth coming anywhere near my personal places.”
Spike growled at her good-naturedly, then he was on his feet with his hand gripping her arm. “On the count of three. One. Two. Th—”
“Arrrgggghhhh,” Buffy yelled as she took off at a sprint, pitching fork up and ready for a swing.
“Bloody hell,” Spike spluttered as he dived into the attack. He was too late and Buffy was sent flying over his head, her hands stubbornly clinging to the fork. He changed trajectory and went around the beast, skidding to a halt just shy of the sunny doorway.
“Don’t be such a bitch, Slayer.” His eyes bugged as slimy opened its jaws to take its first beefy bite before noticing Buffy’s third attempt at an attack.
“Not a bitch, Spike. You just count too slow!” And she was about to be swiped toward oblivion again before Spike got a move on. He reached the monster and attempted a flying kick, his manly bits flapping wildly in the breeze before almost being gored by the vicious thrust of the pitchfork as it pierced through the cow-killer’s throat. Buffy followed the forceful blow at a run, barely sidestepping the falling mammal as she forced the foe to the perimeter, slamming the prongs into the wall and cringing at the squelch of flesh and blood and muscle.
Silence for almost two seconds and then the cow righted itself, bellowed in delayed terror and skidded for the door. Buffy just got out of the way as it barrelled into the sun, mooing for all it was worth.
Buffy turned to Spike, her narrowed eyes pinning him where he stood. “Now, let’s deal with you calling me a bitch.”
Instead of being worried, Spike noticed things. He noticed that her blood was running fast and furious through her veins from fighting, and he noticed the rise and fall of her breasts as she panted from the high tension of the fight. And most important of all, he noticed the sweet scent of her emit into the air as she clapped angry eyes upon him. And he leered.
“Let’s not.” He pounced, slamming her back into a wooden pole holding up the loft. A groaning sound made him urgently alter course and he flung her to the ground before jumping on top of her and sliding his cool hard muscle to the very depths of her.
“Spike!”
God, he loved it when she squealed.
“Yeah?” He pumped, his hips thrusting hard while his hands were planted on the floor either side of her head. She had hay in her hair, and it was tousled sexily like it should have been from a night shared in bed. But, he was seeing all kinds of benefits to this farmyard deal.
“I-I think…ugh…Dru’s…God, there…assassins found… YES!” she screamed and Spike felt like howling at the grip on his cock. She clamped down hard and he couldn’t move, caught in the happiness that shone from her green eyes. Calming slightly, she released him and he got to work sliding and slipping within her, feeling the tiny vibrations of sensitive muscles against his hardened flesh as he worked to reach that end that she’d disappeared for a moment in.
She wasn’t supposed to be happy. How did he manage to do something like that? He’d kidnapped her with the sole intent of feeding her to Dru, making up for all the times the faithless bitch had found reason to doubt his devotion to her before diving between some other slimy demon bugger’s bed sheets.
His plan had nosedived as soon as they’d made their first stop. She was fun. Not just to bury himself inside of her heat, but also her mouth that let escape all kinds of snarky insults and challenges. He enjoyed being around her and the closer they got to where Dru was probably still shacked up with the Demon That Oozed, the more he felt like slowing down and detouring for awhile. Lady Luck was apparently on their side as the farm house had fallen easily into his hand.
Now he was playing Farmer Joe and despite the wide open sunlight everywhere he looked, he was enjoying it. More than an evil demon with death of the Slayer on his mind should be.
He’d slowed his movement during his thoughtful journey, but now the heat of her pussy scorched him and he felt almost desperate for some kind of relief. Twisting his hips as he pumped, Spike felt a mini-explosion near tear off his skin as he came hard.
Buffy moaned, the rush of his seed quenching a need that neither of them were willing to admit to each other.
“You want to leave?” He couldn’t believe how much he wanted her to say no. He felt like he needed to be here, that something big would be revealed if he showed some unaccustomed patience.
He carefully kept all expression from his face, waiting for Buffy to reply. His body rested gently in the crook of her thighs, his eyes peering nervously into hers. All the while he could feel the racing rhythm of her heart as it tattooed against his chest; could smell the scent of fear that he didn’t understand.
She stared straight at him as she quietly shook her head and whispered ‘no’.
The relief was tremendous and Spike felt his tensed muscles collapse, his body covering hers completely, heavily as he allowed whatever was doomed to influence them wash over their supine bodies. His lips settled against the curve of her neck and he nuzzled, trying to concentrate as the hard peaks of her nipples poked his flesh. Whatever this was, it didn’t feel wrong. Wasn’t quite right—but didn’t want to end.
Spike was in too much agreement at this point to mind.
“Right. Guess we need to be on the lookout for Dru’s little wanker brigade. Least it’ll give us something to kill.” He said it with a smirk, enjoying Buffy’s raised eyebrow reaction and waited for her denial of her prissyish need for violence.
Instead, she sighed and looped her arms around his neck, holding him comfortably against her. “Somehow I think no matter where we go, Dru’s goons are gonna find us. At least here we have a nice bed to sleep in.”
“Wouldn’t know about that,” he snarked. “If it’s as bloody comfy as the couch I’m ready to pack up the kit and move on now.”
She pouted. He was helpless against the pout. One long, delicious kiss later and he was willing to spend a month on the couch if it got him some ‘home-on-the-range’ action. Although this hay was prickling him in the not-so-nice places.
“Want to head in and see what other disasters you can get into?” he asked, tongue in cheek.
“Hey!” Buffy slapped him on the head with her hand and pushed his body up. “Let’s go, Romeo. And you better take more care of Grandma’s quilt on your way back inside. I’m gonna go have a shower, try and get rid of this itchy rash from the hay. You can join me if you’re quick!”
And without a ‘how do you do’, she bounced to her feet and took off at a run to the house, no mind to her nude state at all.
Spike felt bloody proud.
Walking right past the creature feature pinioned to the wall with a pitch fork, Spike picked up the garish pink quilt and followed. Just like every good vamp should do that was falling for a slayer.
And he wasn’t going to think about that for a good long while.