Chapter 2
Even in her dazed state, Buffy knew she wasn’t in
her bed. For one thing, she was slightly chilled – as if the window had been
left open all night and her covers were nowhere to be seen. For another, her bed
didn’t vibrate. And, what she currently lay sprawled upon was purring like a
well-sated cat – a large, well-sated cat.
Buffy struggled to open her eyes in order to take in her surroundings, mentally
kicking her brain into gear to rehash the events of the night. While her mind
tried to grope with the fact that she felt as weak as a day-old kitten, the
events of last night slowly came back to her.
Images of her taunting the lone vampire hunting on campus gave way to being
pinned down by three others – moments from death – until someone had pulled
them off of her in a nose-diving tackle. Spike. That someone was Spike. Then
other images floated before her…her pulling numerous slugs from the Swiss
cheese that comprised his back, her getting him to feed, him waking up and
resettling himself at her neck, the pleasure. Dear God, the pleasure!
Her eyes shot open, suddenly realizing where she was and who lay beneath her.
She scrambled off him, kneeling between his parted legs, gazing down at the
vampire slumbering peacefully beneath her. And vibrating. Good lord, he was
purring. She looked at him quizzically before resettling her ear to his chest.
Yep! Spike, master vampire, was purring in his sleep. Who would have
thunk?
Not wanting to wake him and answer any unnecessary questions as to her motives
for providing him with a healthy dose of Slayer on tap, she carefully slipped
from the sarcophagus and let herself out of the crypt. The sun was just starting
to light the sky, and Buffy mumbled an “oh shit” before she took off running
for the dorm.
She was going to be late for class.
~*~*~*~*~
With classes for the day finally behind her, Buffy made her way over to Giles’
place to check in with him.
Stepping inside, she glanced at the drawing Giles was holding up to Xander.
“Hello, people. Hey. Hmmmm… It’s my late night storm trooper pal.
Although, this one had a bunch of buddies with him.”
“A bunch?!?”
“Buffy, what happened?”
Xander and Giles questioned at the same time. Buffy could have smacked herself
for speaking without thinking. Unconsciously, her hand came up to brush idly at
the recent bite mark strategically covered by a stylish handkerchief.
“Uh, it was nothing. Was fighting a few vamps when trooper here and his
friends showed up to interrupt my party. Musta thought we were doing some kinky
vamp foreplay, because next thing I know, they’ve got these huge guns pointed
at us.”
“Oh dear Lord. And, you’re ok?” Giles asked, concern evident in his
tone. “They didn’t hurt you or anything.”
“Nah… just a bunch of humans. Not even vamp strength. Just broke through the
weakest one and ran off until I lost them. No big.”
“If you say so. But, these commandos, whoever they are, are really starting to
concern me and you shouldn’t be taking them so lightly. Maybe Xander and I
should come with you on patrol tonight.”
“Nope.” She held up a hand before they could protest. “I’m going to a
party tonight. Hopefully, a ‘no fighting, no biting’ kind of deal.”
“Look, Buffy, somebody's got to find out who these people are,” her watcher
argued.
“Giles, I live in a dorm now. The girls in my hall want to party, Willow needs
some cheering up. I'm going to take her,” she rationalized.
“How’s Will dealing?” Xander asked.
“With the black hole of despair she's been living in since Oz left? She's
dealing. I'm helping. It's hard. Ergo, party. You two can take patrol. Now, if
you'll excuse me, I need to go find something slutty to wear tonight.”
The two men looked at her as she turned and sauntered off.
Had she said slutty?
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy glanced down at her appearance one more time before stepping inside the
fraternity house. She’d opted for the handkerchief and paired it with a skimpy
tank top and frilly skirt. Willow had looked askance at her regarding her
ensemble, but she’d brushed the other girl’s opinions aside and told her she
was going for a “glam” look. She couldn’t rightly say that she’d been
bitten by none other than Spike – and enjoyed it, no less. She’d have found
herself in front of Giles and the others before Willow could say, “Scooby
meeting.”
“Looks cool,” Buffy said of the party.
“Uh huh.” Willow appeared less than enthused.
“Look, we could go.”
“No…no. We’re here for fun,” the redhead replied.
“Oh look. Some of the others are here already.”
“I’m gonna grab a soda. I’ll find you guys.” Willow had just spotted
Riley across the room and needed to impart information.
“Ok.” Buffy stepped into the foyer and made her way towards the group of
girls that resided in her dorm.
“Ok, she's wearing the halter top with sensible shoes. That means mostly
dancing, light contact. But don't push your luck. Heavy conversation's out of
the question,” Willow told Riley, her eyes scanning the crowd while she leaned
against the rail – trying to be covert girl.
“So what do I do?”
“Ask her to dance.”
Willow rolled her eyes. Honestly!
“Right! Dance. Wait. No,” Riley hedged.
“What's the matter?” she asked, concerned enough to actually look at him.
“I can't dance,” he told her sheepishly.
“Then talk. Keep eye contact. Funny is good, but don't be glib. And remember,
if you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel. A vague disclaimer is
nobody's friend. Have fun.”
She patted his arm then wandered off.
Riley had made a complete ass of himself trying to engage Buffy in conversation,
which led to him berating himself for his stupidity as he sat next to Willow on
one of the fraternity’s couches.
“I can't believe it. I choked.”
“You really, really did.” She’d seen him in action – cringed when he'd
asked Buffy about whether she had done the reading assignment. At least her
friend hadn’t laughed outright. Poor guy.
“You don't understand. I'm good at things. That's what I do. Work hard, apply
myself, get it done,” he told her.
“Well, you failed extremely well,” she tried to reassure him.
“That's a great comfort to me,” Riley replied drolly.
They both looked on as Buffy danced with some anonymous male on the makeshift dance floor.
Buffy was bored. She’d originally come to the party in an attempt to cheer
Willow. But, as she glanced around mid dance, she noticed her friend sitting
next to the TA, Riley. The music ended, and she nearly groaned when she heard
the Dingo’s song start to play over the speakers. She watched helplessly while
her friend’s face paled. The redhead quickly said something to Riley, then
stood and hurried away.
She was about to join her friend when the tingling started. Beginning in her
neck, it radiated outwards until it felt like her limbs were all but vibrating.
She left the guy she’d been dancing with and walked away without a backward
glance. Stepping out on the front porch, she watched Willow leave with a couple
of the girls from her dorm. Satisfied as to her safety, the Slayer closed her
eyes and embraced the sensations coursing through her body.
She was unsure exactly what was happening to her, just knew that she had to find
whatever it was that seemed to be calling her. Instinctively, her hand sought
the mark on her neck, and she nearly jolted when she felt the insistent
throbbing between her legs. Biting her bottom lip to stifle a moan, she turned
right and headed towards the trees.
~*~*~*~*~
Making her way through the forest path, she searched blindly – near overcome
with need – for the person responsible for driving her to the brink of sexual
longing. Panting heavily, she leaned against a tree and took deep breaths to
calm the lust raging through her blood. The buzzing in her neck was stronger,
and in a fit of pique, she ripped the handkerchief from where it covered the
healing wound and threw it to the ground…praying the cool night air would
soothe the twin puncture marks marring her skin.
Almost instantly, the buzzing subsided. It was still there, the dull throb left
no doubt that she should move on. But, the urgent tingling had drifted away now
that the holes on her neck were visible.
And in a moment of clarity, she knew.
It was Spike.
He was doing this…whatever it was, to her.
Pushing away from the tree trunk with more purpose, she steeled her gaze,
allowing her Slayer’s senses to seek him out. Between the call of the bite and
her own special vamp-tracking abilities, she quickly located his direction and
started running towards him. She ignored the branches that tugged at her hair,
pulling it from the sophisticated “up-do” style she had twisted it into.
Paid no mind to the scratches that drew thin lines of blood on her exposed arms
and legs. She had one goal. To seek out Spike. And stop whatever it was he
appeared to be doing to her.
Buffy reached the clearing and ground to a halt, her chest heaving after her
headlong run in the woods. She watched as Spike took a last drag on the
cigarette held suspended between his lips (and how did he make that look so damn
sexy?) before he pulled it away with his thumb and forefinger and flicked the
butt off into the distance. Her eyes followed its track as it arced in the sky
before falling useless to the ground several feet away from him.
Seeing the lit butt fall harmless amongst the dirt, she returned her narrowed
gaze to his face.
“Spike,” she growled, fists clenched at her sides, glaring daggers at him.
Anger at what he’d done to her, how he’d practically forced her to come to
him, radiated from her taut frame. She watched him nonchalantly push away
from his reclined position against a tree and move towards her. Her eyes widened
comically and she remained rooted to the spot, noticed him pause and inhale
deeply – his human mask receding as the demon features came to the fore –
licking his fangs in anticipation.
Then, just as quickly, his human mask was back in place and he was once again
striding towards her…stalking her. The purring cat was gone and in its place
was the hunter they were reputed as being.
“Mmmm… Slayer. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? Standing
there, breathing heavily. Golden skin nicked with scratches, the delicious
fragrance of your blood permeating the air.”
Buffy watched warily while he circled around her, assessing her from every
angle. She didn’t move, didn’t want to provoke him. She’d stupidly
forgotten to tuck a stake (or two) into discreet locations on her person when
she’d left the dorm earlier. In her defense, she wasn’t planning on
patrolling and figured the respite from the damn thing digging into her skin
would be a welcome relief. Right about now, she’d take a little digging.
If she were drained dry, it would be her own damn fault.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt him brush her hair aside and
lick the marks he’d left earlier. Was it only last night?
Her knees nearly buckled as overwhelming lust slammed through her. Spike’s arm
slipped about her waist and hauled her snug against his body. She bit back a
groan when her ass came into contact with the hard length tucked in his jeans.
He nuzzled her neck and this time she did moan…she couldn’t help it. It was
like the marks on her neck were directly connected to her clitoris – if he
touched her in one spot she felt it in the other.
She wondered if he touched her between her legs would she feel it on her neck,
then blushed bright red at the wickedness of that thought.
Spike, for his part, couldn’t believe his good fortune. He’d woken around
dusk, oddly rested and sated, and it took him a moment to realize why he felt so
good. The Slayer…she’d let him drink from her. He’d nearly fallen from his
perch on the sarcophagus as the full force of the claim slammed through his gut.
His demon wanted to immediately search her out, find her. But, he had to be
wary…keep a low profile. He didn’t want a repeat performance of last night,
with the weirdly dressed humans. And, he damn sure didn’t want the bolt of
electricity or the numerous bullets they could produce.
So, he’d laid low. He wasn’t remotely hungry – the Slayer’s blood seeing
to both his recovery and his appetite. Instead, he’d hung about the crypt
and waited until he was sure that she’d be patrolling.
He’d nearly had a fit when he’d seen her walking into the house full of
boys, and a few girls. And, when he’d finally dared get closer, his demon
nearly went ballistic upon seeing her grinding against some whelp. If it
weren’t for the invite situation, he would have ripped the man’s heart out
for daring to touch his girl.
He was so pissed, he’d stormed off into the woods and resorted to chain
smoking to calm down…all the while opening their connection and tugging her
towards him.
Now that she was here, his arms wrapped around her and holding her tight against
his frame, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Part of him wanted to punish her
for daring to let another touch her. But, another side – that soft, poetic
nancy side – told him that she didn’t realize yet what she’d allowed.
She’d said yes to him, and he was damn sure gonna hold her to it.
He’d come back to Sunnydale to prove to Drusilla that he’d get the Slayer
out of his system – killing her quick and getting his third under his belt.
That it was only his Dark Princess that called to him. Instead, he’d ended up
claiming the chit. He sneered at the irony. Spike, William the Fucking Bloody, Slayer
of Slayers, had gone and claimed one. His Sire’s words came back to mock him.
I can still see her floating all around you, laughing. Why? Why won't you
push her away?
Now he knew. From the first moment he’d seen her in the Bronze, he knew…had
just denied it. She was his. Didn’t matter that Peaches got to her first –
from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he knew she’d one day be his.
Now it was time to show her.
He spun her around and shoved her up against a tree. Her lips opened around a
shocked gasp and he wasted no time in thrusting his tongue into the warm cavern
of her mouth. He felt her push against him for a moment before her arms wended
their way up his chest, circling around his neck to bring him closer. She kissed
him back then. Heads slanted from side to side while their tongues dueled for
mastery.
Spike dropped one hand from her waist and lifted the hem of her skirt until his
fingers closed on the scrap of lace covering her mound. A quick tug and the
flimsy garment fell away, leaving her moist curls open to questing digits. He
flicked one finger back and forth along her slit and groaned into her mouth as
her wet response coated the single digit. His thumb drew lazy circles over her distended
nub, and he slipped first one, then two, fingers into her wet pussy.
Buffy tore her mouth away from Spike's, attempting to suck some much needed air
into her lungs. Her head fell back against the tree while his fingers worked
their magic between her thighs. What he was doing was much better than last
night…the feel of his fingers delving within her core were carrying her
towards the brink of orgasm. She was just about to sail over the cliff when he
stopped.
His hands slipped away and she nearly cried out her frustration. She didn’t
hear the belt buckle or zipper give way…she was too focused on the loss of
contact from her center. Her mouth formed a pout and she was just about to voice
her objections when she felt one of her legs lifted and held around his waist.
Then something nudged against her opening.
When he sheathed his cock to the hilt, she bit her bottom lip so hard to keep
from crying out her pleasure that she drew blood. She opened lust-filled eyes to
see his amber-colored gaze locked on the trail of blood. Releasing her lip, she
smiled a come-hither smile – knowing what the scent of her Slayer’s blood
had to be doing to him. Her tongue darted out to capture the droplet, dangling
it in a teasing manner before him.
Her eyes nearly crossed when he withdrew his length almost all the way from her,
before ramming home again. His head dipped again to plunge his tongue into her
mouth, sucking the small drops of blood that coated it. The sliding action of
his tongue mimicked the actions of his cock steadily pumping in and out of her
pussy.
She keened her pleasure, tearing her mouth from his, chanting his name in litany
of sorts. The marks on her neck were on fire and she wished he’d bite her
again to ease the ache he’d caused.
Her prayers were suddenly answered when Spike grabbed a fistful of her hair and
tugged her head to the side. As soon as his fangs pierced her skin and he took
his first pull, she climaxed.
Spike growled low in his throat as the Slayer's inner
walls massaging his length, and he took one more pull of her blood before he joined her in oblivion.
Thoroughly spent, he leaned against her, his cock still buried in her sweet
quim, thankful that the tree was there for additional support.
Minutes later he sensed the approach of someone, or rather someones, and
he retracted his fangs from her neck, licking the new marks closed with a quick
brush of his tongue. He glanced down at her dazed expression and realized he’d
get no help from her in her current state and he pulled free and quickly tucked
himself back in his pants. Settling her skirt around her legs,
Spike scooped the Slayer into his arms and made off into the night.