The silence is deafening.

The building is falling apart around us, concrete crashing to the floor, boards clattering down, drywall crumbling and splatting. A chandelier falls, the sound of breaking glass loud and explosive. Somewhere a pipe has burst and the remaining water splashes on tile.

Our bodies make noise, the sounds of sex. Slapping and squelching, hissing and moaning. Breath catches in her throat in a harsh gasp. A grunt floods from between my clenched teeth. Her skin rasps beneath my fingers, my hair crinkles between hers.

But no word is spoken.

And that silence is deafening.

Somewhere in my not so rational mind I'm counting orgasms. She's had three now to my one and still she rides me, her fingers in my hair, my lips suckling her breast through her blouse, her cunt clenching like a vise around me till I want to scream in painful pleasure.

I knew it would be like this.

Except, I like to talk during sex. I like to babble and boast and even beg.

But, somehow I know she doesn't want that, and the last thing I want to do is throw her out of the mood.

I'm where I've wanted to be for over a year now and I'm not ready to give that up.

Staring up at her I watch the pleasure crease her face, her eyes going wide and unseeing, her mouth falling open. Her back arches, thrusting her breast harder against my face, and she groans as another orgasm rips through her.

With a shudder, she falls forward onto her elbows, her face buried in my chest. I slide my hands down her back, caressing her through too many layers of clothes, as my hips slow, thrusting gently against her pelvis, her inner muscles quivering around my cock.

I haven't come again, but I can wait.

There are lots of benefits to being a vampire.

As I caress her back, my fingers drifting beneath her jacket to touch silk and lace, I feel her mouth moving against my chest, nuzzling at my t-shirt until she finds one of my nipples.

And then she bites.

As lust leaps within me, I growl and my hands tighten on her. Wriggling beneath her in protest, I realize she's not letting go, her blunt teeth sinking into my skin as best they can. In amazement, I stare at the top of her head.

Then I grab her hair and yank her upwards.

Grinning nastily at me, she licks her lips and I catch just a hint of pink. As she stumbles to her feet, I look down and see that she's torn my shirt.

And I'm bleeding.

My hard-on gets even harder.

And she's walking away.

Growling, driven by lust, I stagger up and tackle her, driving her face down into the dust and rubble covered floor. She doesn't make a sound, though the scent of her blood makes me instinctively groan.

As she struggles to rise, I find the zipper of her skirt and yank it down, then tug the leather over her kicking legs. Straddling her hips, I pin her to the floor, one hand at her neck, holding her head down, the other pulling and tugging at her denim jacket. She reaches back for me and her hands get caught in the tangle of denim, almost as effective as rope.

Grinning nastily, I shove my jeans farther down my legs and begin to rub my cock all over her barely covered bottom. My fingers catch one of the elastic straps and I snap it. Beneath me, she bucks like a wild thing.

And she still says nothing.

But, a low growl emanates from her, and it sends shivers of lust through me.

There's very little human in that sound.

Grabbing the waistband of her thong, I yank the scrap of lace down as far as I can with my knees on either side of her hips. One of her legs rears up and her booted heel catches me in the middle of my back.

I smack her hard on one perfect, rounded globe, and she howls in outrage.

She's trying to free her hands, and knowing that she will do so eventually and undoubtedly pummel me into the floor, I grab her hips and move between her legs, thrusting them wide. From experience I know it's not the most comfortable position in the world, and as she struggles to bring her knees beneath her, I slam into her, sending her skidding forward on her face.

Pumping at a fast, hard pace, smacking my bony pelvis against her thinly padded rump, I dimly wonder if she'll bruise.

I'd love to see her bruise.

Feeling her hips wriggle slightly against me, I grin and wrap my arms around her waist, pushing into her as deep as I can go. I'm hitting her cervix, but going by the whimpers and moans of pleasure echoing from her, she doesn't seem to mind. Braced on one shoulder, she thrusts her hips backwards in time with my punishing thrusts, and slowly cranes her neck to look at me.

There's anger in her expressive eyes, but also lust.

I'll take both.

Those emotions make her more alive than she has been since her return.

I doubt she'd appreciate hearing that from me, though.

Her eyes on me have another effect, though, and I suddenly explode into her, coming in jerky thrusts as I groan and grip her hips.

When I'm calm enough to pull out of her, she mewls in distress and wriggles enticingly like a cat in heat. Falling back on my heels, I watch her squirm, her ass thrusting backwards at me, our combined fluids leaking down the insides of her spread legs.

Absolutely beautiful.

Rising unsteadily to my feet, I peel off my dusty clothes, tossing them negligently aside. Along one wall of the dimly lit room are the remains of an old sofa, and I walk over to it to rescue a few cushions. Flipping them to the not-so-dusty side, I toss them down next to where Buffy has managed to get to her knees.

She's glaring furiously at me, and I grin as my cock twitches to life again.

Reaching down for her, I tug her to her feet and free her of the jacket. She nearly had one arm free, and the denim is torn at the shoulder.

She's so very hard on clothes.

One hand lashes out and catches me across the cheek. A slap. How...surprising.

I'm still grinning when I yank her to me and kiss the breath out of her.

As she gasps and mewls and sinks against me, I manage to divest her of the rest of her clothes, and nude we sink down to our knees onto the cushions. I can smell her fresh arousal, and my cock's poking hard against her stomach.

She seems to take it all in stride, though, one little hand slipping between us to wrap around the tip of my cock and jerk me off like a pro.

Before I can even wonder if she's ever sucked dick before, she's pushing me down and moving over me, her mouth surrounding my cock, pulling it into her mouth. As her tongue flits over the slit and her bottom teeth scrape the sensitive glans on the underside, I fall back on my elbows and groan loudly.

Oh yeah, she's done this before.

Through slitted eyes I watch her, crouched at my side, bent over, her long hair brushing my groin and stomach. Reaching out, I push her hair out of her face, wanting to see her mouth moving up and down my dick.

Oh fuck, she's amazing. Her lips oval, her cheeks balloon, and I'm at the edge of her throat and she's not gagging, just taking me deeper.

My fingers dig into the debris on the floor, trying to find purchase, as she sucks me like a hoover, head bobbing up and down, nothing gentle about her touch.

Just the way I like it.

I'm about to come, just on the edge, my balls tightening, every muscle in my body straining for release...

And she lifts her head and gives me a look of pure evil. Her hands and mouth leave me and she sits back on her heels, arms crossing just under her luscious breasts.

Bitch...evil, fucking bitch.

Desperately, I reach for her and she scoots out of my way at lightning speed. I dive for her again and she's on her feet, dancing backwards, teasing me. My cock throbs hungrily, painfully, and I glare furiously at her, though a part of me is admiring my first real sight of her in all her naked glory.

She's not a natural blonde either...

Suddenly she's got her back to the wall, her legs slightly spread, and she's crooking one finger at me.

She wants me to fuck her against the wall again?

...No, that's not what she wants...

Helplessly, I stumble towards her, let her grab my arm and shove me to my knees.

Her willing slave, that's all I am, as I place hungry kisses along the curve of her stomach and my hands cup her buttocks, lifting her and settling her so that my tongue can lick and my lips can suck, and...

Oh fuck, she tastes like ambrosia. Vanilla and honey and woman musk and my own cum. I'm drowning in her taste, lapping her up and down, twirling my tongue around her swollen clit, before diving down and stabbing it inside her.

Her hands are on my head, her fingers twisting in my hair, shoving me harder against her, forcing me to fuck her with my mouth.

I could do this forever...

The sounds she's making are music to my ears--little moans and whimpers, harsh breathing, thumps of her head and back against the wall. Her hips buck against my mouth and I fasten my lips around her clit and suck.

She screams.

I made her scream.

A weird sense of pride fills me as I drink down the juices flooding from her contracting body. She begins to slide down the wall and I let her, pulling her down, positioning her just right so that she slides down over my prick.

Her eyes fly open, surprise registering in them, but her legs wrap around my back and she settles on my knees.

We face each other, me buried inside her, her surrounding me, our lips and eyes only inches apart.

And then I lift her and slam her down again.

She keens, a broken cry of pain and pleasure, and her arms go around my neck and her head falls onto my shoulder. I can feel her sweat-slicked breasts move against my still chest as she begins to rise and fall on her own, clinging to me, rubbing herself on me, squeezing around me.

I pant, uselessly, helplessly. My fingers dig into her backside, trying to guide her movements, but she's going wild on top of me and I don't care. I bury my face in her shoulder, my mouth suckling hungrily on her neck, and for the first time, I feel myself change.

I want to bite her.

I want to hear her scream my name as she comes while I drink her blood.

But, the tiny rational side of me doesn't want to be one more pile of dust in this falling down building, so I force the demon down and nip her with human teeth.

She retaliates, biting savagely into my neck, leaving painful love bites as she pumps her body on mine, working towards her pleasure.

The pain charges through me, driving me relentlessly to climax. I can feel her coming, her body shuddering around mine, and I let myself go, spewing into her, driving her up off her knees as we arch together.

Gasping for breath, we both topple sideways, and I slip from her, my cock finally softening.

Slowly she pulls away from me and crawls over to the cushions, falling onto them face forward. The sounds she's making are intoxicating--gasps and whimpers and attempts to take deep breaths.

I stand slowly and stretch, wincing at the ache of bruises and pulled muscles from both the fights and the sex acts.

There's nothing gentle or tender about her.

I love it.

Negligently scratching at the love bite on my chest, I stroll through the rubble towards her. Hearing my footsteps, she looks over one shoulder, and I see exhaustion creeping into her eyes, but as those eyes drift down my body and her tongue peeks out of her mouth to lick her swollen lips, I also see her hand sliding between her legs.

A low moan breaks from her and her tired eyes go dreamy, as her fingers caress herself. Smirking, I wrap one hand around my cock and pump it.

I can't believe how insatiable she is. A match for me. No, probably more than a match. I always knew she'd be the death of me. Never figured I'd go out this way, though.

Dropping to my knees behind her, I lean down and nip at her haunch.

She growls and slaps back at me, catching me across the ear.

I growl back and grab her around the waist. She wrestles free and kicks me in the chest. Frowning, I open my mouth to complain and her fist fills it. Yelping, I fall backwards and glare at her as she scoots away from me.

As I see her abandon her desire for one more orgasm and reach for her skirt, I dive for her.

She's not going anywhere yet.

We fight in silence, rolling in the rubble, bruising our bodies. Her teeth find my neck again, her nails scrape my back, and I hit her hard across the face.

She's stronger than I am, but I want to win more. She'll never admit it, but it isn't her exhaustion that defeats her.

She wants me to win.

A deep continuous growl echos from me as I pin her on her stomach over a cement block. One hand is wrapped in her hair, holding her head down, and her squirms are getting her nowhere. All she's doing is scraping her stomach over the rough block of cement.

I feel her surrender, and smirk as she tries to part her legs.

Oh no, this is my game now.

Roughly I slide my fingers between her legs, then draw them out wet and glistening. As she moans softly in pleasure from my touching her sensitive clit, I thrust one digit into her asshole.

She yells in indignation and pain, and I just grin as I worm my finger in deeper. Whipping her head around, she glowers furiously at me and tries to free herself, but she's in an awkward position, what with my legs pinning hers down, my hand in her hair, and my finger up her butt.

Her mouth opens, and I can see the word forming on her lips, but then she slams them shut and turns her head away. I can hear her teeth grinding together.

And suddenly I want her to talk. I want her to yell at me. I want her to call me every name in the book.

So, I wriggle a second finger inside her.

Our combined groans fill the air, as her muscle snaps around my fingers, nearly crushing them, and I go where obviously no man has gone before.

She's so tight, and she's also dry, and I know I have to be hurting her.

Not that I really mind, and she's built to take it, but I want her to say 'no'.

I'm perverse that way.

As I press a third finger against her hole, I watch her head shake, catch a glimpse of white teeth biting into her lower lip, see her hands digging into the rubble, ripping up drywall, and I give in first.

Leaning over her, driving my third finger as deeply as I can get it, I whisper, "Do you want me to stop, luv? Or maybe add a fourth finger? Have you ever been fisted in the ass, pet? Or fucked? Do you want that, ducks? Hm?" Tightening my hand in her hair, I jerk her head around.

There are tears in her hate-filled eyes.

"Tell me 'no', luv."

"Fuck you," she growls, and hits me in the head with a piece of two by four she found beneath the drywall rubble.

Stunned, I pull my fingers free and fall onto my back to watch her rise above me, board gripped in both hands. My eyes widen as I drink my fill of her, my avenging amazon, my Slayer.

There are red scrapes across her flat stomach, and bruises forming all over her golden skin, her hair tumbles around her shoulders, her nipples are hard and dark pink.

The insides of her thighs are wet with us both.

She's never been more beautiful.

"Bastard," she hisses, voice harsh and nasty. "Son of a bitch." She punctuates that curse with a whack of the board across my chest, and I scramble to my feet. "You asshole!" she screams, aiming for my head.

I duck and the board sails out of her hands. Going low, I grab her around the waist and throw us both back down on the cushions.

"I hate you, you fucking asshole. Why? Why? Why'd you do this to me? God, I hate you so much."

She continues to scream at me as I blanket her body with mine, pinning her tightly beneath me. Now that she's talking, she doesn't seem to want to shut up.

So, I let her call me every name in the book and then some, until she collapses limply and starts to cry.

She cries soundlessly, big tears flooding from her eyes, but no sobs, no wails. Not even a hiccup.

Levering myself above her onto my elbows, I stare down into her stricken eyes. She breaks our gaze first, raising one shaky hand to wipe at her wet cheeks.

Tenderness fills me, and my own shaky hand joins hers.

The things this woman makes me feel...

"Buffy," I murmur, before dipping my head and tasting her tears.

Her whispered response is feeble at best, "I hate you," before she lifts her arms and wraps them around my neck, returning my gentle kiss. I lift myself just enough so that her legs can part, and her knees rise to press against my sides, as her fingers twine in my hair and her tongue caresses mine.

As I drive all coherent thought from my mind, I slide inside her, and we begin to move togther slowly, rhythmically. There's none of the fast, slamming pace we've set all night, none of the painful grinding together, none of the bruising and biting. She pulls free of the kiss and arches her head back, lifting her neck to my lips, and I kiss her there, sucking tenderly on her heated skin, tasting her sweat and desire. Her hands slide down my back, not clawing this time, but caressing. Reaching my ass, she teases me with light strokes of her fingers, as I glide in and out of her, making love to her whether she likes it or not.

I hear her heart begin to race, her breathing quickening, and I move a bit faster, pushing deeper, filling her. Her muscles clench and unclench around my cock, and I groan, nipping at her earlobe, before sliding my mouth back to hers.

The kiss is carnal, yet still tender, and I capture her growing moans in my mouth. Her hips rise and fall to meet my thrusts, and her fingers begin to clench into my hips.

She's close.

Breaking the kiss and opening my eyes, I stare down into hers, watching them flicker with light. Her breath catches in her throat and then she moans...

My name...

I feel her coming, and I come, too, pouring myself into her in a nearly painful release. I babble her name as I collapse on her, and she clutches me tighter with hands, knees and quim.

Of fuck, just let me die now...

Slowly I move off of her, and notice that her eyes are closed, her breathing evening out. She's drifting to sleep.

Reaching back, I grab my duster and tug it over us, then curl up next to her. She rolls onto her side, snuggling against me, her hot body warming my unnaturally cool one, and I wrap one arm around her waist, holding her close.

I'm not an idiot. I know that when morning comes, this closeness will be over.

But, I'll fight as hard as I can to prevent that from happening.

Because I am a bitch for love.

And I do love this wonderful bitch.

Smiling at my rather poetic thoughts, I close my own eyes and let the dreams come.

They won't be of making love to her.

No need to dream of that anymore.

And the rest is silence.

 

The End

 

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