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Chapter 18

He had no destination in mind as he flew out the front door and down the walk. He only knew that he needed to put as much distance between himself and the Slayer before he did something stupid – like apologize. The city was quiet in the predawn hours, most people either currently ensconced at some party or such, or tucked away in their bed, sleeping the sleep of babes. The town proper was nowhere he wanted to be. He had frustrations to work off and the peaceful quiet currently surrounding him wasn’t helping his plans at taking his mind off his troubles.

The Slayer. She was trouble in all caps. Making him soften towards her, making him practically deny what he was, so much so, that he’d started to look forward to this marriage of theirs. Was opening himself up to her feelings and wanting to see her happy.

But, it was an illusion. Right now, sure, she was all with the lovey dovey. But as soon as her memories came back, he’d be dealing with one brassed-off Slayer, one that would throw stakes first and ask questions later. It was probably one of the reasons he’d tried to maintain his distance. He didn’t want to open himself up to her rejection.

And, what the hell…

He was doing it again.

He would not feel for this Slayer. Would not allow her soft hazel eyes and pliant form sway him from his purpose. She was a means to an end, and he would do well to remember that. He had to stop thinking with his “little head” and concentrate more on the matter at hand.

Use her till he needed to lose her. That was the way he needed to be.

He was William the Bloody. Slayer of Slayers. He’d bide his time until he was back home and then finish what he’d started in that abandoned warehouse before being sucked back into this mess.

At least that’s what he told himself, and he hurried off into the night seeking a little action before the sun came up.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike wasn’t surprised when he found himself down near the docks. If you’re looking for a little action, the seedy bars and strumpets eyeing their next potential customer, was definitely the place to be – it was the three “F’s” that would appease his demon.

Fighting, fucking, and food.

A sinister grin played over his lips as he took in the various commotions going on all around him. A movement off to the right in the alley caught his attention and he moved in that direction. He stepped into the alley, his vampiric features quickly sliding to the fore to better able him to watch the proceedings.

Two fledglings – very young judging by their amateurish attempts at subduing their prey – struggled to feed on two barmaids while simultaneously trying to silence their screams. The only thing the two had going for them was the fact that screams in this part of town were commonplace and rarely, if ever, fretted over.

Disgusted with their lack of finesse, and reminded once more of his own frustrations he needed to rid himself of, Spike slipped out of the alley and ducked into one of the seedier bars. The raucous sounds of a brawl had piqued his interest, and he swaggered inside, quickly ducking the drunken punch aimed his way. He crowed in delight, taking off his coat to avoid getting it torn before joining the fray.

All around him the sights and sounds encouraged his demon. Chairs broken over bodies. Empty bottles shattering and used as weapons. The smell of human blood upon the air was like the finest wine, and he licked his lips in anticipation. Not yet, but soon. Right now, he needed to pummel with his fists to release the pent up energy that had gripped his being upon finding out that he’d been disobeyed. Wanted to rail against the fates that were tightening the noose about his neck and forcing him to wed the Slayer. If he couldn’t fight with her, the least he could do is take out his aggression on some unsuspecting drunken sailors.

He even pulled his punches to make the fight last longer than it should have. The master vampire was in his element, even if his opponents were sadly under matched. He didn’t care. The demon was appeased.

When his latest punch sent the last of the bar’s inhabitants to the floor in a drunken heap to move no more, Spike stood and straightened his clothes. His shirt had come untucked and he hastily set himself to rights and ambled over the bodies littering the floor to get a pint of ale. He was about to get his own cup when he sensed a movement, then watched as the bartender gained his feet and shakily asked him for his order.

A mug was placed in front of him and the vampire quickly down the watered-down contents as he turned to survey his handiwork. Blue eyes scanned over the masses trying to find the worst off of the lot as barmaids reappeared and attempted to put the room back in order. They cast looks his way, impressed that he’d managed to come out on top seeing how he wasn’t the largest of men. The bolder ones eyed his expensive clothes and cock-sure attitude and entertained thoughts of a tumble…or two.

His head cocked to the side, his tongue automatically curling behind his teeth as he assessed the second – and possibly third – “F” on his agenda for tonight. A lusty blonde caught his attention and he gave her a pointed stare and gestured with his head towards the stairs. She put down her tray, whispered something to the girl beside her, and moved off towards her room above the bar.

Spike walked over to his coat and snagged it off of the chair he’d placed it earlier. His hand delved into an inner pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, enough to cover the ale and the damages made in the bar.

The barkeep eyed the money, his wide-eyed expression filled with shock that the lord would deem to pay for the damages. When the first punch had been thrown, he’d crouched behind the bar and lamented about how he’d pay for the latest round of damages done to his place.

“For the damages,” Spike told him before moving off to follow the girl.

“Er…thank you, m’lord!” he gushed, as he hoarded the money close in case any of his customers decided to waken from their drunken slumber.

The vampire nodded and moved off. It was time to pay the girl a visit…

~*~*~*~*~

Halfway up the stairs he stopped. He ignored the hazel eyes that seemed to haunt him, vigorously shaking his head as if to dispel the images. One way or another he was going to break this hold the Slayer seemed to exert over him. Better to take his pleasures wherever and whenever he wanted – and if it happened not to be the petite brunette, so be it.

He was evil, and it was time for him to remind himself of that.

He started back up the stairs, using the aroused scent of the barmaid as a guide. He’d lose himself between her legs then finish her off as a nice snack. Prove to those Powers wanting to manipulate him that he was evil to the core… lest they forget. Show them how much he hated to be made to act the puppet.

Faint sounds came to him as he paused before her door. He could hear the chit’s accelerated heartbeat, could smell the arousal perfuming the air as she moved about the room. The door had been left ajar and he pushed it all the way open so that he could see inside. He must have scared her – he was a lot quieter than the drunken louts that normally sought her favors – if the startled gasp was any indication. But, it quickly fled as she assessed his lean frame, her features taking on a more purposeful veneer.

She crossed the room towards where he stood framed in the open doorway. The exaggerated sway of her hips did nothing for him. The hungry look in her eyes paled in comparison to another. He found himself ignoring this willing creature as a petite figure superimposed itself over the barmaid. Dry, mousy hair giving way to soft, glimmering locks that cascaded down her back. Pale arms lifted and pulled the hair up and away from her neck, and all Spike could see was the marks upon her neck. His marks.

Shaking his head to dispel the vision, he glanced down at the woman before him. She’d lifted her hair, jutting out her chest to display her bosom to his gaze. But, she wasn’t what he wanted…wasn’t what his demon craved. Disgusted with himself, he threw a few coins her way and stalked off.

He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he didn’t want to settle for a substitute when he could have the real thing. And, there was no reason for him to deny himself, other than spite.

The bar was quickly left behind as he hailed a hack for the return trip home.

~*~*~*~*~

He could feel the demon raging inside and the carriage had no sooner slowed to a halt before his townhouse that he was out the door, flicking a few coins at the driver, and racing up the steps. The only thing his brain seemed to focus on was the marks permanently etched upon her neck.

His marks. His Slayer. His. His. His.

The door opened as if by magic as he neared and he grunted at the “Good Evening, m’lord” intoned his way. He took the stairs two and three at a time, the servant forgotten as chants of “mine, mine, mine” played cadence to his stride. Now that he’d returned, now that he’d decided to have her, he was impatient to re-stake his claim.

Feet moving at a brisk pace, he bypassed the half-breed’s room on the way to his master suite. All lay quiet within but he wanted to divest himself of the various trappings of his station. Wearing just his white, billowing shirt, that hung open from neck to hem exposing his pale skin for anyone to see, and his breeches; he slipped from his room, his bare feet making no sound on the carpeted floor as he rushed towards the Slayer’s.

He could make out her ragged breath as he neared, as if she’d been crying – which she had – for hours on end and had fallen into a fitful sleep. The knob made no sound as he turned it and slipped inside. His eyes immediately sought her out, a small huddled form lying in a ball in the center of the huge bed. She was turned away from his gaze, but he knew her face was probably swollen from her crying.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t.

He was just here to reassert his claim with cock and fangs, spend himself deep within her body, so that he could sleep for a few hours.

He was.

Spike stalked towards the bed, removing his shirt and pants and tossing them onto a chair. He threw back the bedcovers – they would only get in the way and end up on the floor anyways – and climbed onto the bed. She hadn’t moved from her tightly curled position, didn’t sense the danger that slowly stalked her.

In a matter of moments, she lay bare to his gaze, her nightshift lifted over her body and discarded like so much garbage. The Slayer twitched fitfully in her sleep as the cool air of the room brushed over her naked limbs, and she tried to huddle even tighter into herself.

He was having none of that.

Grabbing her legs, he wrenched them apart and buried his face in her flavorful musk. His tongue licked a path along her slit, delighting at the tangy nectar that flooded his mouth. The semi-hard erection he’d sported since leaving the barmaid came to life as he buried his tongue between her folds.

She tasted like a slice of heaven, and he eagerly lapped at her center. He heard her moans, felt the restlessness of her body, and knew she was waking.

The demon’s lust had overtaken his body. He needed to have her. Bury his cock deep inside her and feel her inner walls sheath his length in velvety fire.

Spike pulled his head away from her mound and surged up her body and buried his shaft deep within her pussy. Her eyes flew open, jolted awake at the near painful invasion. Her body relaxed when she realized it was him. Her vampire lover. The tension in her face eased, even though he never stopped his relentless pace, driving into her as if he could exorcise the voices in his head that taunted him for his weakness, his softening nature.

Her arms moved to hold him close, but he easily pinned them with one of his hands, denying her. He didn’t want to feel, didn’t want to care. Just wanted to use her body because it was his. His. His canines elongated, the ridges above his brow became pronounced, and his amber gaze watched the Slayer beneath him.

There was nothing gentle in this possession. His intent was to mark. When he heard his name float over him, he struck. Buried his fangs in the mark he’d placed upon her neck, painfully so. He heard her gasp in pain, but then nothing else. She made no move to throw him off, readily submitted to his dominance…

Because she was his. Was telling him so with her body, in the only way she knew how. By lying docilely in his arms. Trusting him. Letting him do with her as he will.

And, just like that, his demon was appeased.

His movements stilled and he lay flush against her body. The punishing grip on her wrists fell away to grip the back of her neck and hold her close. He felt her hesitate about holding him again, but when her hands finally started kneading his bare back, he purred his delight into her throat. He’d stopped sucking her blood the moment his movements had stilled, but he couldn’t bring himself to release her just yet. And, if the sighs escaping from her lips were any indication, she didn’t seem to mind either. Actually tried to wheedle her way closer so that his fangs would sink deeper. The rumble in his throat got louder.

She tasted so good, his Slayer. He could get drunk off the taste of her.

The throbbing in his cock made its presence known. He needed release, and soon. His hips twitched involuntary and he began to move. Slowly at first, until he felt her legs shift wider before they lifted and wrapped around his back. He removed his fangs from her neck as his pace increased, blood dribbled down his chin to collect on her chest. His tongue licked across her flesh, cleaning the trail, then flicked over one distended nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Her back arched off the bed, causing his fangs to puncture her soft flesh.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the new bite, it wasn’t deep, it was just the first time he’d bitten her there, and she found she liked it. A lot.

Spike released her breast from his shallow bite so that he could flick and tease the other. The dots of crimson welled up slightly and some of the holes oozed blood down onto her puckered nipple. He was torn between wanting to return to it so that he could lick up the stray spots of blood, or let them bleed and attend to the other.

His movements stilled as he contemplated, and Elizabeth thought she’d die if he didn’t start moving again.

“Please, William,” she begged, her body writhing beneath his to increase the friction on her swollen clit. “I need…”

She clutched at him, her nails digging into his back. Suddenly, he surged back into her, and her nails scored down his back, drawing his own blood.

Spike’s demon loved it.

The scent of their blood combined in the air and his eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he inhaled deeply. His pace increased as he thrust into her, his pants mimicking her own. He could feel her body tense as she neared her orgasm. She keened her delight as he ravaged her body, her arms and legs tightened further, locking him in place above her.

He watched the emotions play across her face. Knew the moment he hit her spot when she bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. But, Spike was determined to make her scream. At least for him. He angled his hips so that his cock hit it over and over again. Felt the moment when the sensation became too much and she climaxed around him.

Her inner walls tightened around his shaft, the clenching motion quickly bringing him off. He buried his fangs back into the open holes on her neck, taking a deep draw of her blood as he flooded her womb with his seed.

Exhausted from her earlier weeping and her guardian’s vigorous lovemaking, Elizabeth’s limbs fell limply at her sides. Her eyes closed as she breathed deeply to calm her erratic heartbeat. She felt him shift and move off of her, and if she weren’t so tired, she would have cried out in anguish that he was leaving her already. Then she felt his arms draw her close and she nearly purred in contentment as she drifted back to sleep.

The thought of him marrying another never invaded her dreams.

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