Midnight in the Garden of Evil
Chapter 9
~*~*~*~*~
Eagerly I wished the
morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
Edgar Allen Poe
~*~*~*~*~
Spike had every intention
of staying in the slayer’s room until she had risen, but Joyce’s words about
only being gone for the one night came back to him. Not knowing how long it would be before the slayer woke; he
decided to take her someplace private. And
although he was evil to the core, he didn’t fancy his girl’s first meal
being her own mother. Back when
he’d been newly risen, he’d turned his mum – but that had been in an
attempt to heal her, keep her by his side.
It hadn’t turned out well and he’d ended up staking her. Once Buffy was awake, if she wanted to come back and off her
mum, he surely wouldn’t stop her.
He dressed quickly and
bundled the pliant body of his Childe into the bedspread, easily lifting her
over his shoulder as he made his way down the steps and out into the night.
If Ripper’s plan had gone smoothly, he wouldn’t have to worry about
chance meetings with Angel or the slayer’s pals as he searched for a place for
the two of them to rest.
~*~*~*~*~
Reluctantly, Angel pulled
away from his newest creation – one made in haste and guilt – and struggled
to rise.
“Sire,” Xander whined
plaintively, his fangs adding a decided lisp to his voice.
Angel ignored him and
crossed to the door of the cell, desperate to get it open and escape the
nightmare that his life had suddenly become.
He had to warn Buffy and the others ... if it wasn’t already too
late…
He struggled with the door
in vain. There were no visible
locks, yet vampiric strength was no match for it.
He was well and truly trapped until Drusilla returned.
Resting his forehead against the door, he sighed uselessly, helpless to
do anything to save the others.
So caught up in his misery
and self-loathing, it took Angel a moment to realize that his Childe had stood
and was attempting to press himself against him.
“Sire,” he whispered.
This time, the husky timbre of Xander’s voice left no doubt as to the
meaning behind that simple word.
Angel turned, gazing down
at the young man standing so close to him – too close.
Xander licked his lips; ravenous with a new craving; all he wanted was a
taste, something to tide him over. The
brief sips of Sire’s blood that he’d received earlier had helped to quench
the overwhelming hunger he’d felt upon waking, but even now he could feel it
gnawing at his insides. His demon
screamed for blood.
“Please,” he whined,
not above begging and groveling.
Xander licked his lips in
anticipation when he heard the elder vampire sigh again and reluctantly offer
his wrist. He grasped the proffered
limb reverently; if he were good enough, bit him just so, maybe he’d get more
than blood. That thought caused his
cock to strain against the gaudy pants he currently sported.
His eyes never left his
Sire’s as he brought the wrist to his mouth.
He felt a slight thrill when the other vampire didn’t look away, just
watched as he oh so gently sank his fangs into the flesh.
Angel winced at the initial piercing, then groaned as a wave of lust
rushed through his body. God, how he missed this!
Then, Xander was pressing
his body into his own, their erections grinding against each other, and Angel
wanted to cry in frustration. ‘No!
Not anymore. I’m better than this!’
Abruptly, he shoved the newly risen vamp away, the force of which sent
him crashing against the far wall. God,
he had to get out of there fast!
He returned to his
fruitless attempts of opening the door to his prison. He needed to get away…warn Buffy and the others.
He had to get away from
the temptations of his newly turned Childe.
Xander lay where he fell,
not wanting to anger his Sire even more. He
didn’t understand why the elder vampire wouldn’t take him…hell, he was
practically begging him for it and he could sense Angel’s arousal.
Yet, there he stood, banging on the door as if his unlife depended on it.
He got warily to his feet
and moved towards the door as he attempted to get back into his Sire’s good
graces. Apparently, the elder vamp
wanted out of the room. Maybe he
could help.
Angel heard Xander
approach and backed away. If he
were to touch him again, Angel didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself
from showing the fledgling just what it meant to be a vampire.
With narrowed eyes, he watched as Xander walked towards the door and
easily opened the portal.
Magic.
It had to be.
Whoever had sealed the
door had prevented him from opening it – but not Xander.
Xander watched the
excitement light the elder’s features as he glanced at the open doorway.
He didn’t move as Angel walked towards him, just watched with
amber-tinged eyes and pressed back against the wall, apprehensive.
Before he had time to
register it, Xander found himself shoved hard against the wall, his head yanked
to one side by hands fisted in his hair.
“Me thanks, boy,”
Angel murmured, his voice heavily accented with Irish brogue, before his sank
his fangs deep in the younger vampire’s neck.
He angled his body so that their engorged cocks crushed together as he
took a few long pulls from his Childe. Xander
whimpered in pain-pleasured arousal and tried to deepen the contact, his arm
slipping around the taller man’s neck to hold him closer still.
Then lips were removed from his neck and he thrilled as his sire’s
tongue gently lapped at the fresh wound he had made.
“Stay,” Angel
whispered against his neck. “Dru’ll
look after ye. Don’t make me
hafta kill ye if I happen to come across ye.”
Then Angel pushed himself
away from the boy and quickly left. Xander
for his part was too weak – from both arousal and the loss of blood – and
could do nothing more than sink to floor inside the cell.
~*~*~*~*~
She awoke to feel a raging
hunger gnawing at her insides. She
wanted to get up and ease the ache tearing at her, but realized that her hands
were shackled. Looking around for
the source of her torment, her amber gaze locked on the lean shadow slowly
moving towards her.
She sniffed the air as her
keen hearing took in the sounds of the darkened room.
“Evenin', pet,” the
shadow murmured.
Her gaze turned away from
the slight mewling coming from the far corner and locked on the shadow again.
She moistened her lips in
anticipation.
Sire.
“Hungry?”
Buffy couldn’t speak,
could only nod as his naked body gleamed in the patch of moonlight shining down
through the ceiling windows. Her
eyes locked on his jutting cock, and widened in expectation.
“Something you want,
luv,” he taunted, his hand fisting around the base of his erection before
slowly sliding out towards the tip. His
thumb brushed over the head and collected the few drops of precum leaking from
the slit.
The growl came out of
nowhere, and Buffy was surprised that it was from her.
Her head lifted from the bed as she strained to taste the outstretched
digit – her prize…the wetness of her Sire’s essence held suspended on his
thumb.
“Yeah…don’t you
just,” Spike smirked as he sat down on the side of the bed and extended his
hand towards her mouth.
“No biting now,” he
warned.
Buffy nodded, her tongue
darted out to lap at his finger, the taste of him flooding her mouth and causing
her to crave more. Her lips closed
over his thumb, her tongue swirling around over and over again as she continued
to suck – the pearly drop soon consumed, but she still held that precious
digit in her mouth – unwilling to let go.
“Oh yeah…you
definitely do, baby,” he growled encouragingly as he slipped his thumb from
between her lips and trailed it down along her naked torso.
His amber gaze glittered in the moonlight as he watched her nipples
harden at the gesture. She was a
prize – his golden Childe – and he knew just how to…appreciate her.
Ignoring the whimpering
coming from the corner of the room, Spike climbed onto the bed and situated
himself between the slayer’s parted thighs.
The brief taste he’d had of her before the turning had just barely
whetted his appetite. Now…now she
would welcome the pain he’d delivered before, crave it as much as he did.
No holds barred.
As if sensing what was
about to come – avid for it – she spread her legs wider, exposing the hidden
nubbin within. Spike thought about
flicking his tongue over it, tasting her…but right now, his cock was screaming
to be buried so deep within her pussy that he could touch her womb.
From the writhing she was doing on the bed beneath him, she didn’t seem
to want the foreplay either.
As he positioned his cock
at her opening, her legs came up to encircle his body, locking him in place.
Then he thrust…hard, sparing her no time for her body to adjust.
Just slammed into her quim with the force of his pent-up desire.
She didn’t object.
In fact, the harder he pounded her body, the wetter she became.
Snarls and hisses emanated from her throat as he thrust in and out of her
slick passage. The steel manacles
cut into her wrists as she struggled against their bonds.
She wanted to hold him close, dig her claws into his back hard enough to
draw blood…she had to touch him.
But, right now she was
being denied. It frustrated her as
much as it excited her. Spike had
the right of it. She did like this.
Gloried in this…this freeness that only happened at her death by his
hands.
The grip about his back
tightened, increasing the angle of his thrusts. This wild mating was driving her crazy…she could feel her
body tightening up like it had before and knew she was about to…
God, she just needed him to touch her clit and she’d soar…
The thought produced the
action. Spike gazed down at the
slayer…only no longer a slayer, his…only his.
She was glorious. Her head
thrown back on the brink of ecstasy, her hands reaching for him, heedless of the
wrists clamped in steel handcuffs so hard that her skin had broken and blood was
starting to ooze from the wounds. It
was the smell of it that got to him. His
hands gripped her hips as he pounded into her, finesse would have to wait.
With a growl he came, his cock spurting his release into her channel.
The name of his Childe escaped his lips as he continued to move in her
welcoming body, and as an afterthought, he removed one hand from her hip to give
her clit a vicious twist and nearly came again as her inner muscles clamped down
on his cock as orgasm overtook her.
“Spiiiiiiiiiiiike,”
she shrieked as she came.
She wanted to hold him to
her as her body shuddered, and the handcuffs finally gave way, the metal rings
dangling from her wrist like so much jewelry, and Spike just had to chuckle.
Oh, she pleased him
mightily. Finally, someone who
could match him in his passion. For
so long he’d catered to his own Sire, her weakness and sometimes almost
childlike innocence. Now he had someone more like him.
A warrior, a natural predator of the night.
He allowed himself to be
pulled down into her embrace; she’d earned it after all.
If she hadn’t broken free, he wouldn’t have let her feed from him
just yet, would have made her do with second best.
But, since she’d managed to show her superior strength…and her desire
to use it, he allowed her to have him.
His blood.
Tilting his head to the
side, he exposed his neck to her, encouraging her to take her first bite.
When her fangs pierced his neck, his cock hardened again.
Slowly he began to move within her as she drank from him.
She didn’t take much – as the sensation of him sliding in and out of
her overcame her desire to feed.
Releasing his neck with a moan, she slowly licked the fresh wounds closed. This was what life was really about. No worries, no cares, no destiny of dying young. Just her and her Sire…together like this for all eternity.