Banner by Vampkiss

Chapter 38

“If you could…if there were a way…would you go back right now?”

In that moment, as Buffy stared up into his handsome features, she could imagine what he’d been like as a human. Emotions so deep that they contradicted everything ever written by the Council regarding vampires were blazing from the depths of eyes so deep a blue their color couldn’t be properly described. Hope. Want. Lust. Fear. Love. A gamut of emotions he thought he’d been able to hide.

But, she knew different. Had learned each and every tiny nuance that would hint at his mood during this past year. Now, as she gazed upon his torn expression, she couldn’t help but ease the trepidation snaking through his body.

“No.”

Just one word. One little word that allowed the final barrier to come crashing down.

Before she could draw breath, Buffy found herself crushed beneath her husband as he rolled them over, his mouth plundering hers. Making her prove herself in actions – that she was his and wanted to be with him. Stay here with him. To allow the hand that had been dealt them to play its course.

Spike tore his mouth from hers with a groan. “Gahhh…Slayer. Can’t…gotta…” He rocked his hips against hers, reaching down with one hand to tug frantically at the fastenings of his breeches. The moment his cock sprang free he was guiding himself towards the damp curls hiding her sex. He felt the Slayer’s hand on his hips, still shoving at the offending material as she tried to get his pants off. But, he couldn’t wait, had to have her right now…and with a quick lunge of his hips he was sliding home.

“Oh, pet…mmmmm…so wet for me. Perfect,” he gasped as he lay there, basking in the moment – the feel of her vaginal walls encasing his length damn near the most perfect thing he’d ever felt. Beneath him, Spike could feel her feet as they slid down his legs, sliding his pants down as she went, only satisfied once nothing remained between them. Then her legs were wrapped around his hips, holding him in place…allowing him to slip just a tad bit deeper – if such a thing were possible.

For the first time ever, he was ruled by his emotions, his normal seduction of the Slayer gone by the wayside in the face of her confession. His reaction was instinctive – both demon and man were thrilling at the fact that she’d chosen him. That he wasn’t just leftovers, seconds. What one turned to when their first choice was taken.

They wanted to stake their claim, laud in their victory.

“Tell me again,” he murmured huskily in her ear as he began to thrust rhythmically within her wet heat.

“W-wa…wanna stay…wi-with you,” she managed to choke out around his powerful thrusts. She was so close, his cock hitting her just so when he ground his hips into her cleft each time he filled her.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me why you wanna stay.”

“L-love you.”

“Again! Say it again,” he practically begged.

“Love you,” she answered more forcefully.

“Buffy…” he groaned.

The sound of her name on his lips was her undoing; her body flew over the edge sure in the knowledge that he would catch her. That he would be there for her.

A moment later, his fangs unerringly found the marks he’d gifted her with upon claiming her. Like the first time, he dug deep, demon and man in full accord. The words wouldn’t come just yet, but he could give her this. And just hoped she understood.

He felt her gasp at the pain, and like a repeat of before, he ripped his fangs from her throat, leaning up on his outstretched hands to stare down at her in his demon visage. His hips never relenting in his powerful thrusts as he watched her blood spill from the gash he'd made to begin a slow trail towards her collarbone.

“You’re mine,” he growled possessively. “Mine!”

Something in his tone forced Buffy to open her eyes and stare at him. With his demon prominent and her blood smeared on his face, she should have been scared…knowing that her death was imminent. Even behind his yellowed gaze she could sense that he wanted – no needed – something from her. Going with her instincts, she raised her hand and caressed one side of the harsh ridges above his brow.

He stilled with her touch, only she didn’t feel it, too intent on her task. Her other hand lifted to copy the actions of the first. A soft smile graced her lips when he attempted to lean into her hand – like a cat seeking the attentions of its master. Her fingers continued their twin track down the outer edges of his eyes and along the sharp contour of his cheeks. Applying slight pressure, she guided his head to her, enabling her tongue to dart out and lick at the blood coating his lips. The metallic tang was no surprise, having tasted her own blood before.

What did surprise her was his reaction to her tender ministrations. The hard glint was back in his eyes. She could feel the tightly coiled tension in his body as if he was waiting for some signal from her to let it free reign. It caused a tiny shiver to race along her spine.

Then she remembered.

“Mine! Say it!”

“Yours. Now and forever.”

“Blood of my blood. Forever marked mine.”

“Yours….now and forever,” she avowed.

It took all the control he possessed to not react violently to her words. His demon was exalting at her capitulation, ready to take what had been given him without thinking. But Spike wanted more. Now that he’d accepted her love and was opening himself up to return it, he wanted the softness, the tenderness. To just experience lovemaking without the cold manipulation he’d always employed in the past, as if to distance himself from her…and what she made him feel.

So, instead of ravaging her body and staking his claim, he slowly lowered himself until he was lying flush atop her. His human mask slid back into place and he braced himself on one arm so that he could brush her hair back from her face.

Then he was moving. Agonizingly slow strokes that stretched her inner walls as he filled her, leaving her bereft when he was gone. Time lost all meaning – neither seemed inclined to increase their movements. Rather, both languished in the unhurried pace, senses tuned to where his length glided in and out of her core.

Spike watched her expressive face at each thrust, how she tried to maintain eye contact, only to lose against the onslaught of sensation. The way she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. The feel of her hands roaming over his body, the soft caress alternating to having her nails dig into his skin when he surged back into her depths, played havoc with his ironclad control. But maintain it, he did, determined that this time would be different – that she would know it was, even if he couldn’t express it himself in so many words.

Their climaxes caught them completely unaware. Buffy gasping in shock, eyes closed against the intensity as it ripped through her body. Spike groaned, her inner walls milking him just so, so that he barely remembered to complete the claiming ritual as he filled her womb with his seed.

“Blood of my blood. Forever marked mine.”

Something he did willingly this time.

~*~*~*~*~

Over the next several months, Buffy and Spike settled into a routine. While the master vampire was ensconced in his study seeing to his vast holdings, the Slayer spent her time with her friend, Renee. With a strong command of the French language under her belt and a sudden thirst to learn more, she expanded her studies to include anything she felt an interest in. And with such a good teacher and the one-on-one atmosphere – not to mention the fact that there wasn’t really a lot of distraction to prevent her learning, she excelled at whatever topic she undertook. Her nose was constantly in some book or other, and when she wasn’t brushing up on her book-smarts, she was learning the art of fencing.

This was when Spike would step in. Sometimes participating…other times just watching the two women face off against each other.

Their intimate circle expanded marginally to include others among the Aurelius line. Viscount Sotheby was the first to learn of the Slayer’s secret, only doing so at Renee’s insistence that he could be trusted. Spike eventually told the Earl of Hawkingstone and the Marquess of Eaglethorpe himself, him having formed a bond with both men back at the first vampire function they'd attended. Clayton's close friend Alric Townsend, youngest son of Viscount Waverly, was also eventually told.

All four had been shocked, stunned that they’d been in a Slayer’s presence and were unable to tell. It had led to Spike telling them the complete story. How they’d been sent back in time and were at the mercy of the Powers as to their longevity of stay. It was done so that in the event of their sudden departure, the vampires could smooth over their absence if there was need.

~*~*~*~*~

“I’m tired of being a brunette,” Buffy complained to Renee, closing the book she’d been reading in a fit of pique.

The vampiress glanced at the book of horticulture in the Slayer’s lap and chuckled. “From flowers to hair…that’s quite a switch.”

Buffy stood suddenly, the unconscious grace of her movements not lost on her friend. She’d come a long way in the year and a half that she’d been here.

“I want to party. I want to dance. Not that I don’t love it out here in the country…but, London was nice. There were people there!” she complained. Seeing her friend’s hurt expression, she rushed to her side, taking the vampiress’ hands in her own. “Not that I don’t think you’re not people…’cause…well, you are. It’s just…”

“You’re tired of being cooped up,” Renee concluded.

“Exactly. And, I know I’ll no sooner be back in London a week that I’m dying to come back to the nice quiet life I’ve got out here…but I need a change. Something. Anything.”

Standing, the vampiress pulled her friend to her feet.

“Well, let’s start with your hair then, shall we.”

Buffy smiled back.

“Oh yes!”

~*~

“Cut it,” Buffy pleaded.

Renee looked aghast at her friend while the servant poised behind the Slayer quivered in fear.

“The Marquess would kill me for allowing you to do that,” Renee objected.

“Just a little bit,” she whined. “It’s just so heavy. Maybe to the middle of my back?”

Renee looked at the servant and nodded. Heather visibly swallowed then did as she was bade, cringing when the first dark lock fell away. Seeing her mistress’ excitement, however, was contagious and soon the maid was happily snipping away with her shears until the length rested at the bottom of her shoulder blades.

When she noticed that Heather was finished, Buffy turned to where another was mixing several different batches of something.

“Relax, Buffy. Women have been coloring their hair for ages. And, I have it on good authority that Sophie here does excellent work. She’s from France, and the skill has been passed down in her family for several generations.”

The Slayer mumbled a polite hello in French. She’d seen the girl a time or two, but with as large as Chadsworth Estates was, she really had yet to be on a first name basis with even half of the servants. Still, the girl was doing her a huge service, and she spoke politely to her in French as the various mixtures were applied to her hair.

~*~

“You’re bringing out the big guns,” Renee commented as she slipped inside the mistress’ bedchamber – said bedroom used only to house the Slayer’s extensive collection of gowns and frippery; she slept with her husband next door each night. Buffy was seated before her vanity garbed in the red gown the master vampire loved so much. “How did you manage to avoid him all day?”

“I hid,” she told her friend conspiratorially. “As for the other…well, I figure between wearing this dress and having Byron, Clayton, and Alric present; he can’t very well yell at me, right?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that him yelling at you will be the least of your worries,” the vampiress replied. The two women shared a look before they each burst out laughing.

“Come on,” Buffy replied, before she could lose her courage. She looped her arm through the vampiress’ and walked towards the door. “Let’s go see if his growl is worse than his bite.”

On the main floor, the two women headed straight for the Marquess’ study, where the men were no doubt engaging in a pre-dinner beverage. Buffy took a calming breath, then the two sailed into the room as if nothing were amiss.

Spike was deep in conversation with the three male vampires but paused when he felt the Slayer draw near. All eyes turned towards the door where, a moment later, Renee and Buffy entered. He’d sensed her nervousness as she neared and his brow had drawn together, wondering what it was that could possibly be troubling her.

As he got his first good look, well… if his heart wasn’t already unbeating within his chest, it would have stopped right then. ‘This was what she was nervous about?’ he thought incredulously. Mind consuming lust was instantaneous, and he excused himself from the three vampires with one thought running rampant through his brain.

Buffy glanced over to where Spike was moving away from the others to slowly stalk her. And he was…stalking her. There was no other term that could describe his deliberate path.

“Uh…William…” She called him William around everyone else to keep in practice; Spike would hardly go over well among the rest of the Ton. “William…I can explain…”

She took a step backwards, hiding shamelessly behind Renee and slowly eased her way towards the door. When she peeked over her friend’s shoulder, she noticed he was getting closer, and a glance at the other males in the room revealed their amusement. She took another step backwards.

“Got the right idea, pet,” Spike told her. “I’ll even give you a head start seeing as your legs are hampered by those skirts.”

“But…Spike…” she wailed. She’d yet to really get a good look at his expression. If she had, she would have realized that anger wasn’t even close to what he was feeling right now. The vampiress shook her head. Like she’d told her friend, who’d clearly not understood her meaning, a good yelling was the least of her worries.

“I assume, Lord Thornton, that we’re not to hold dinner for you?” Renee drawled.

“Wait? What?” Buffy finally got a gander of Spike’s expression and a bolt of lust shot through her. “I guess that means you like it?” she hazarded to ask.

“Slayer, if you don’t want the others to see how much I like it, I suggest you get a move on.”

Buffy darted for the door.

Spike was right behind her.

“Pour me a glass of that, would you, Clayton?” Renee asked as the study door slammed shut behind the master vampire.

next

REVIEW ME!