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Chapter 25

Spike feasted on the Slayer’s blood until he felt her go slack in his arms. He tore his mouth away from her throat, scooped her limp body up in his arms and made his way out of the hall and towards the room he’d been given for his stay. His departure was like a signal to the others, who broke off into much smaller groups to seek their own amusements.

He ignored the congratulations of the vampires he encountered as walked through the foyer on his way to the stairs – his only thought, to get away from everyone and secure the Slayer before she could come to and make a mess of his and the Powers carefully laid plans.

Finally alone in his room, he gazed down at her slumbering form before depositing her on the bed. His fingers worked over the fastenings of her gown, quickly divesting her of the garment and leaving her body bare to his gaze. Amber eyes took in the room’s décor, his gaze lighting on a wardrobe across the way. He moved towards it, anger still radiating from every inch of his frame that the fates had chosen now for her to remember.

His fingers gripped the handles, pulling the doors open to reveal its contents. Full lips curled into a smile at the assortment of torture devices it held. Grabbing several lengths of rope, he returned to the Slayer, spreading her arms wide and securing them to either bedpost. Once her arms were bound, he moved to her legs, tying them as well so that she laid spread eagle and nude upon their bed. He double-checked his knots, making sure that they’d hold – not that he had to worry too much…he could keep her in line by drinking just enough of her life’s blood to keep her weak.

Secure in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be waking anytime soon and attempting to escape, he departed their room to retrieve his clothes and a bottle of liquor from his host’s study. As he moved down the hall and back towards the stairs that would take him below, the sounds and smells of the others filtered up towards him. He moved gingerly down the staircase, stepping over couples that couldn’t quite make it to the privacy of their rooms.

In the main foyer, it was worse – regular orgies taking place among the masses. His cock hardened within the confines of his breeches as the sights and smells assaulted his senses. Several times someone wanting him to join in on the action grabbed him, but he shrugged them all off. There was only one person he wanted to dominate right now, and she was upstairs, bound and unwilling on his bed. He finally located his clothes, lying untouched on the vacant chair, and he grabbed them, throwing them haphazardly over his shoulder as he moved off towards the study.

He slipped inside the room, breathing a sigh of relief that, at least here, he wasn’t witness to all the things he’d like to be doing right now. As if by some silent agreement, the host’s study was off limits to the carnality of the group. A few of the more bookish vampires sat reading in the chairs scattered about the room, ignoring the noises seeping under the door from all the action taking place beyond. Spike crossed to the bar, snagging a full bottle of scotch to take back with him to his room. He ignored the glasses stacked on top, figuring that he didn’t need to bother with the civility of drinking from a tumbler when his sole purpose was to get drunk. From the source would be just fine.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike slouched in his chair, his eyes never leaving the figure stretched out on the bed. One arm dangled over the chair’s arm, the half-empty bottle of scotch held negligently in his hand. Every now and then, he’d bring the bottle to his lips, taking a huge swallow to numb his brain.

‘Knew it was bloody well goin’ to end, din’t ya,’ he taunted himself. ‘Now that the Slayer’s back you’ll no’ be hearin the pretty l’il words she’d cry as she came. No more callin’ out y’er name an’ beggin’ for ya.’

He took another swig of the amber fluid to drown out the inner voice mocking him.

‘Look at ‘er over there…think she’s gonna want you now? Her? The Slayer that kills your kind?’

Laughter reverberated in his brain…Drusilla, Angelus, Darla – all mocking him for his stupidity.

The bottle made its way back to his lips, his throat working as he finished off its contents before throwing the empty container against the wall with a roar. The sound of the glass shattering against the hard surface pulled a reluctant moan from the girl tied to the bed, and Spike staggered to his feet to make his way over to her.

He couldn’t deny how lovely she was as he gazed down at her nude form. Her dark hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath her head; her taut body bore evidence to the strength hidden within her compact frame. His eyes zeroed in on the dark curls covering her mound.

“Spike!” Buffy attempted to ground out, but her voice sounded weird to her ears…nothing more than a faint whisper. “What have you done to me?”

His eyes lifted to her face and he couldn’t help chuckling at the fire that emanated from her hazel depths. Even bound and helpless, she attempted to flay him with her gaze.

“Tell me, Slayer,” he asked, perching on the edge of the bed as he trailed one hand up her bare leg. “What do you remember?”

He chuckled mirthlessly when he felt her struggle against the bonds to try and escape his touch, her depleted strength no match for the coils of rope wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Ignoring her feeble protests, his hand continued up her body – watched with fascination as her stomach quivered beneath his touch, his fingers dancing along her abdomen. His hand moved ever upward, finally cupping her breast and rubbing his thumb back and forth across her puckered nipple.

“You haven’t answered me yet, pet.”

“Spike…wha-what are you doing to me?” she whined helplessly.

“Nothin’ that I haven’t done before these past six weeks.”

“No…”

She struggled harder against her bonds, desperate to escape his touch. Her eyes widened almost comically as she saw him lower his head towards her bare breast. ‘Where did my clothes go?’

“Oh, yes,” his husky voice confirmed.

He sucked her hardened nipple into his mouth, delighting when she unconsciously arched into him. She may have forgotten these past few months now that her amnesia was gone, but her body hadn’t. Her body still craved him, his touch, the things he could do to her, the way he could make her feel.

“Spi—”

“Tell me you don’t remember,” he murmured around the plump flesh in his mouth.

Buffy frantically shook her head, trying to deny his words. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, desperate to eradicate the sight of him suckling at her breast…how he used his tongue and lips to tease her flesh. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to keep from keening her pleasure as he flicked her nipple with his tongue. She felt, rather than saw, his other hand skim over her body to lavish attention to her other breast and Buffy thought she’d die if he didn’t ease the ache he’d brought about.

“Your body remembers, Slayer,” he purred. “Remembers every wicked little thing ‘ve done to you.”

Spike inhaled deeply, his eyes closing in pure bliss, smelling her arousal perfume the air. He licked his lips in anticipation.

“No…stop…I don’t want this…I don’t want you,” she cried. She had to get away from his touch. She couldn’t let him do this to her.

Spike removed his hand from her breast and plunged two fingers in her dripping pussy. His eyes narrowed intently as she arched her hips off the bed trying to take him deeper.

“Your body says you’re a liar, pet.” He pumped his digits repeatedly within her slick passage, grinning widely when she tried to grind herself against his hand.

Buffy felt helpless as her body moved in tandem with his fingers.

‘Why am I doing this? Why am I letting him touch me like this?’

The images came then, assaulting her mind as his fingers drove her to the brink of rapture.

“Come to me,” she whispered.

With a groan, he lowered his fangs to her neck, piercing her delicate flesh. He bit deep, knowing that he was hurting her. But, he was marking her…stating his claim for the world to see…and heed. This mark would last forever…his claim sealing her fate, her life, to his for all eternity.

She cried out as his fangs went deep, deeper than before. Then, he began to suck her blood into his mouth, and she was undone. Each pull of her blood caused an answering throb where he was steadily sliding in and out of her. Then, he took one last deep pull from her neck and she was lost…exploding into a thousand pieces, the dual penetration too much for her to bear.

“Spike!” she bellowed, sounding momentarily like her Slayer-self.

“Mine! Say it!” he commanded, having ripped his fangs from her neck, her blood coating his lips. He stilled within her, waiting.

“Yours. Now and forever,” she answered instinctively.

She remembered each time he’d taken her afterwards, how he played her body like a skilled musician and she, his willing instrument. Remembered every party she’d attended, her chaperone, the friends she’d made.

She remembered how he’d comforted her over her “parents’” death, her eyes softening in memory. Who knew he – a vampire – could be so caring?

Her eyes widened in shock as the details of her wedding played out in Technicolor before her eyes. She married Spike? Buffy glanced at her left hand – sure enough, there was a ring on her finger, a beautiful one at that. Images of her honeymoon, the carriage ride to his country estate, came to her.

“Anything we do together is right, kitten.” He pulled her up off of her knees and into his lap. With an unusual display of gentle affection, he pulled the pins from her hair, allowing the dark locks to cascade down her back. His fingers cupped her jaw, pulling her down to him for the barest of kisses – no more than brushing his lips lightly back and forth across hers.

Her eyes closed as he coaxed her head toward his, but they opened now, tears swimming in her eyes as she looked at her husband. A demon, but still a man, and capable of such emotion. As he kissed her with such loving tenderness, reassuring her with his touch that this was right, that they were right, her love for him burst forth until it threatened to overwhelm her, and she couldn’t prevent the whispered vow from escaping her lips.

I love you.

“No! I can’t! I won’t!” she cried, frantic now to get away from him. To deny what she’d remembered.

Spike lifted his head from her breast and stared at the Slayer. Seeing the recognition shining in her eyes, his gaze hardened.

“Too late, Slayer,” he growled. “You’re mine…only mine.”

“No…” Buffy struggled futilely against her bonds. She had to throw him off, couldn’t let him touch her like this.

“Yes!”

He moved suddenly, settling himself between her parted legs, her sex wet and dripping from his ministrations.

Her head lifted, staring helplessly at him as his head hovered over her mound.

“Wha-what are you doing?” she squeaked.

His rakish gaze pinned her in place and he licked his lips in anticipation. Slipping his hands beneath her ass, he lifted her hips and lowered his head to flick his tongue over her clit.

“Spike!” the Slayer bellowed, straining against her bonds for an entirely different reason now.

“More?” he asked quirking his brow at her.

Buffy nodded helplessly, her protests gone by the wayside as his tongue laved at the bundle of nerves between her legs.

“Say it!” he commanded.

She shook her head refusing to give in to his demands. And instantly regretted it as his tongue drove her to the brink of ecstasy again and again…but never any further. At some point her tears started, her body unable to handle the exquisite torture he delivered.

“Had enough, Slayer?” he ground out, easing off of her to allow her body to relax a moment before beginning again. He rose, quickly shucking his breeches then settled between her outstretched legs once more.

“Please…n-no…no more…” she begged.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I…I can’t…”

“So be it!” he snarled.

Spike surged up her body, burying himself to the hilt with one powerful thrust. Beneath him, the Slayer strained against the ropes binding her in place.

“Spiiiiiike!!”

His arms slipped beneath her back to cup her shoulders, anchoring him in place as he drove his cock repeatedly into her sopping pussy. He cared not for her pleasure; he was punishing her, plain and simple. Her tears held no sway with him, only increased his ire that she was denying him. He felt her twitching beneath him, desperate to increase the friction and grant her some measure of relief, but he removed one arm from around her shoulder and held her hips in place.

“No…” she cried. “Please….Spike…I need…”

Spike ignored her, his hips moving for his own pleasure. His pace increased as if to lose himself in her body…trying desperately to chase away the ghosts that told him he wasn’t good enough, would never be good enough.

Buffy couldn’t stand it. Her body was strung so tight and the movements of Spike just heightened her body’s awareness that told her she was close…

If she just gave him what he wanted, he’d give it to her.

She felt his head buried in her neck, his offbeat breathing tickled her neck and driving her just that much more crazy. If she didn’t tell him soon it would be too late. He’d go there without her and leave her behind. Once more she pulled at the ropes on her wrist and ankles, but she was still too weak to do more than dig the coils deeper into her tender flesh.

She broke.

“I’m sorry,” she babbled. “Please, Spike…”

The Slayer was openly weeping now…too far gone to care what she was telling him.

“I’m sorry…didn’t mean it…yours…I’m yours…Spike…please….”

The haze of his anger wore off at her confession and he stilled above her. He looked down at her tear-stained face and listened to her continued babblings. Spike slipped from the Slayer’s warm body and easily sliced open the bonds holding her feet in place then did the same for her arms. She didn’t move afterwards, too upset to notice that she’d been freed.

He returned to his spot between her legs and slid effortlessly back into her wet sheath. Lowering his head to hers, he began tracing his tongue around her lips until she opened her mouth to let out a slight moan. His tongue slipped inside, coaxing hers to respond. Spike groaned in pleasure at her first tentative touch, felt something akin to relief when her arms wrapped around his neck and held him tight. His slow, steady pace never wavered as he tore his mouth from hers and trailed his lips down her neck.

“Slayer,” he murmured as his lips brushed back and forth across his mark. “Tell me you want this.”

“Spike…” Her head lifted from the pillow, driving her neck closer to him. “Need you…”

His face shifted and he buried his fangs in her neck. He felt her body spasm beneath him, her inner muscles clenching around his shaft as he continued to thrust his cock inside her slick passage.

Buffy cried his name, completely undone by his bite. She crushed him to her, driving his fangs deeper into her neck. Her legs moved to wrap around his waist; her eyes widened as the new position allowed him to slip even further inside her body.

Spike purred his delight, feeling her move beneath him. He released her neck, his face automatically shifting back to his human guise as he returned his lips to hers. He’d taken enough of her blood already, his veins nearly throbbing with her sweet elixir as it rushed through him.

His pace increased, the driving intensity of his thrusts moved her up along the bed until she removed her hands from his back and blindly reached over her head to brace her hands against the headboard. Their grunts and snarls mingled with the sounds of their bare flesh as their bodies came together again and again.

Buffy was too caught up with the way Spike was making her feel to deal with the ramifications of her making love to a vampire. And an evil one at that. She shoved all the negative thoughts aside, feeling the holes on her neck zing to life when she felt his movements increase another notch. All she knew was that she needed him right now…she’d worry about getting home later. Figure out what had happened to her some other time.

Her mind was centered completely on Spike, the way he moved inside her, how he seemed to just seep inside every corner of her being.

Then she couldn’t think anymore. Her body splintered into a thousand pieces as his movements became too much and a second climax washed over her. His name burst forth from her lips, the Slayer too far gone to temper her volume.

“Slayer!” Spike shouted, seeking his own release. His hips moved spasmodically and he emptied himself deep within her womb before collapsing on top of her. His lips nuzzled her neck, his tongue flicking over the holes in her flesh to seal them closed.

He felt her shift beneath him and he rolled them so that she lay sprawled on top of him.

Buffy was too comfortable to move. The loss of blood and dual orgasms lulled her into a light sleep on top of her vampire. Her lips curled into a slight smile just before she drifted off.

Hers. He was hers.

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