Dark Need
Written by: Laure Alexander
Author's
Website
Summary: In response to a challenge on BSUA to take the first paragraph and
write a fic. I take a few liberties with Becoming 2 where the
timeframe is concerned.
Distribution: If you like it, just ask; I've never said no. If you have my
permission, please take. List archives: yes.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Author's Note:I didn't get the name of the person who sent in the
challenge, but this is for her. Thanks for the inspiration! Hope
you like the fic.
Feedback: laurealexander@hotmail.com
Angel has been back a month and every time he looks at me it's
with a look of shame and disgust. It's as if he knows, knows that
shoving that sword into him was not my only betrayal. When he
was himself again, the first thing he did was push the hair aside
from my neck and run his finger over the mark there--the bite
mark I tried so hard to hide--and as he looked down into my
eyes and asked me who, all I could do was stutter some stupid
lie as my reply. I think he knew, because he just walked away,
and now, every day, I feel the shame, the shame I'd die to have
again.
My first sexual experience was with the man I love and it was
beautiful.
What it wasn't was a mind-blowing, highly erotic, screaming his
name as I came experience.
But, then, I didn't know any better, and I was so in love that it
was perfect. There was only a twinge of pain and then such
tenderness and pleasure. Every touch was perfect, just enough
pressure, just enough gentleness. His kisses were passionate,
but controlled. When he entered me, he did it so slowly I
thought I might scream in frustration, but then he began to move
and I learned to follow.
It didn't last very long. He'd been celibate a long time, I
suppose. I was a bit embarrassed when he slid his hand
between us and caressed me with slow, sure strokes until I came,
but the pleasure erased all other feelings. His moan of bliss
when he came made me feel so good inside, so powerful.
Afterwards, we held each other, murmuring our love for each
other until we fell asleep.
Everything went to hell after that, of course.
My second sexual experience was quite different. Although
Angel made me feel needed and loved and beautiful, the
second man to have me showed me what I really am.
What I really need.
~~~~~
They walk side by side, warily eyeing each other. Two enemies,
joined by a common purpose.
"It won't happen till dawn," Spike mutters. "That gives us
nearly
six hours."
Buffy shrugs. "I'd suggest grabbing a frappacino, but I'm kinda
wanted by the law here."
He glances around, then up, just as a big drop of water hits him
in the forehead. "Shit."
Thunder cracks and it begins to rain. Grabbing her arm, Spike
drags Buffy into an alley, taking cover in a deeply recessed
doorway.
"Look, it's only five more blocks," Buffy begins to protest, when a
lightning bolt slams into a dumpster across the alley. As the
ozone crackles and garbage catches on fire, they both jump
back, shielding their eyes. "God hates me," she mutters.
"Looks like we're stuck here for awhile," Spike replies, peering
out into the now torrential downpour. Leaning back against the
door, he reaches into his duster and takes out a cigarette and
his lighter. Cupping his hands around the cigarette to shield it
from the wind, he lights it, then takes a deep, satisfying drag.
"Those things are bad for you."
Spike cocks an eyebrow in her direction and draws in more
nicotine.
Frowning, Buffy moves as far away from him as possible and
slides down to sit on a convenient crate. She wraps her arms
around herself and stares morosely out into the rain.
After a long silence and the smoking of three cigarettes, Spike
drops easily down to the cement stoop and runs a hand through
his hair. "Want to make a bit of conversation, luv?"
"Don't call me that." She doesn't look at him.
Rolling his eyes, Spike tries again. "You really ready to do it this
time? Kill the bastard?"
"...Yes," she replies, her voice tight with anger.
"Good."
Buffy swivels her head to look at him. "But, he's your sire, right?
Shouldn't you be fighting by his side and all that, loyal and true."
"That's a puppy dog you're talking about. Angelus preached
independence from day one. 'Course, didn't hurt that he
buggered off for a century either."
"So, you developed into your own man, so to speak, while he
was away?"
Spike smirks. "I was always my own man, pet. Just became my
own master once I was free from the poof."
"And Dru?"
The smirk tightens to a frown. "She's not strong like I am."
"Went back to her daddy, huh?" Buffy's smile is just a tad
malicious.
"She doesn't know any better."
"Maybe she does, Spikey."
A low growl fills her ears and she mentally backs off, muttering,
"Sorry."
"No you're not," he flippantly replies, but shakes off his anger.
"'Course you'd say that. You've only been had by him."
"How would you know that," Buffy stammers.
Spike holds up a hand, ticking off the points. "One, you used to
smell like a virgin and now you don't. Two, he told me all about
it."
Turning bright red, Buffy looks away and swallows hard.
"Great," she mutters dully.
"Yeah, told me you were the sweetest little thing, all hot and
horny..."
"Shut up," she interrupts him harshly, lashing out with one foot
and kicking him in the shin.
Spike clutches his leg and howls, "Ow! What was that for?"
Gritting her teeth, Buffy glares at him. "For lying."
"I'm not lying. All he does, well when he's not plotting to kill you
and your friends, is go on and on about how fucking you was
the best thing that ever happened to him."
The redness on her cheeks quickly pales and she drops her eyes.
Finally, she forces out a response, her voice low and hollow.
"He told me I wasn't...any good."
Realization hits Spike and he nods. "Ah, yeah, that's just like
him. He wanted you insecure, luv."
"So...so I..." She glances up at him. "I *was*
good?"
Spike smiles at this new side to the Slayer and replies softly,
"Dunno, luv. Haven't had you myself." Her renewed blush
sends
a bolt of awareness through him and he lets his eyes drift slowly
over her body.
He's never really noticed before what a pretty creature she is...
"Maybe I should give you a go..."
Buffy's eyes widen and she jumps to her feet. "What?"
Smiling sensuously, Spike glides his back up the wall until he's
standing, then he takes a step towards her. She backs up and
nearly falls over the crate. Her hand goes for a stake in her
pocket and he intercepts it, dragging her hard against his body.
"Let me go." She squirms and shoves him backwards in the
small space. "You're insane and disgusting and..." This
time he
cuts her off with his mouth on hers. Using all his strength and
skill, he pins her against the wall and kisses her until she's
gasping for breath and clutching at his arms. A tiny part of her
brain tells her to keep fighting, but it's been so long since
anyone has touched her, kissed her, and her body is helplessly
responding.
She feels dampness seeping into her panties and blushes even
deeper.
Spike smells her arousal and smiles against her lips. Sliding his
hands down from her shoulders where they were holding her
tight to the wall, he catches her hips and pulls her against his
groin, sinuously grinding his erection against her lower stomach.
"Oh god," Buffy moans, the hard bulge confined behind denim
sending sparks of longing through her. Her nipples tighten, her
womb clenches, and she mewls as she kisses him back, tongue
tangling with his in a deep, hungry kiss. One of his hands slips
under her top to fondle her breasts through the lace of her bra,
and her knees buckle. His body holds her up and his fingers slip
inside the lace cups to knead her heated skin.
"Like an oven you are, pet," Spike murmurs against her mouth
while his fingers tease her nipples. His free hand slides between
them and cups her mound through her pants. "Wet and hot."
Buffy flushes more, embarrassed by his drawled words and the
evidence of her desire. She tries to push him away, but her
whole body is aflame with longing and she trembles against him.
He shoves her coat down her arms, then tugs her shirt over her
head. Her bra is pink and frilly and his cock throbs painfully at
the sight of her nipples outlined against the lace. Buffy licks her
lips and he captures them again, groaning into her mouth.
Driving all thought from her mind, she tugs at his duster, finally
freeing it and sending it to the dirty cement. Spike's mouth slides
across her cheek, down her throat, and for a moment a pang of
fear intrudes, but he passes on down to the tops of her breasts,
and she clutches at his shoulders, arching her head back and
holding him to her.
His tongue laps at her through the lace, then, impatient, he
yanks the bra down her arms letting her breasts spill from it.
Dropping to his knees, he dashes kisses and licks across her
trembling breasts before sucking one of her rose-colored nipples
between his lips.
Buffy cries out, grabbing his head and guiding his tongue across
her nipple as spasms of lust roll through her. She can feel her
orgasm building and her other hand fumbles with the fastenings
of her pants, wanting him to touch her between her legs,
wanting him inside her, filling that empty space left by her lost
lover.
With a wriggle of her hips, her pants slide down her legs and
Spike catches them, tugging them down to her ankles. Never
moving his lips from her breast, he finds the sides of her panties
and pulls them down, too.
Then he glides his fingers into the sopping heat between her legs
and happily sighs.
Buffy whimpers and presses her hands to the wall behind her,
desperately trying to remain standing as Spike laps from one
nipple to the other and runs his fingers up and down her swollen
cleft, taking particular care to flick across her clit on each sweep
upwards.
With another cry, she comes, bucking against his hand, seeing
stars behind her closed eyes.
As he rises shakily to his feet, Spike licks his fingers of her inner
juices and grins lustily. Buffy's eyes open and she pants softly.
She watches as he lowers his hands and undoes his belt, then
the fly of his jeans. He shoves the denim down just far enough
and his cock springs free, long and hard, its mushroom shaped
tip nearly purple with desire.
Snaking out one arm, he wraps it around her waist and tugs her
limp body to his. As he gives her a hard kiss, he fondles her
bottom, rubbing her against his cock until they both groan, then
he spins her around and pushes her down so that's she's
kneeling on the long crate.
"Wh--what?"
His hand finds the nape of her neck beneath her hair and he
pushes her head down, elevating her ass to just the right height.
"Spread your legs, luv," Spike mutters huskily, and grins as she
wriggles her knees as far apart as the pants around her ankles
will allow. Her fingers curl around the edge of the crate and she
stares down at the puddle growing in the alley, panting harshly
as she awaits his next move.
All this is new to her. She and Angel made love in the
traditional position.
It only seems right that Spike take her doggie style. She *is*
about to let an animal fuck her, after all.
Reddening even more, she glances over her shoulder in time to
see Spike wrap his fingers around his thick cock and guide it
between her legs. His other hand lands lightly on the base of
her spine, his fingers caressing in a circular pattern as the head
of his cock enters her.
Moaning at the pressure, Buffy forces herself to relax, and he
slides in farther.
"Fuck...you're so tight," he hisses, pulling back and thrusting
again until on the fourth thrust he's fully embedded. Draping
himself over her back, he reaches for her breasts and fondles
them as he begins to hump against her, driving his cock in and
out of her tight, wet inferno.
Buffy swallows hard and lets herself revel in the physical
sensations of fucking. The position drives his cock to places
she's never been touched, and she can feel her inner muscles
clenching and retracting, caressing his shaft. As his thrusts
increase in speed, his fingers pinch her nipples harder and
harder, and she finds herself moving back against him, rocking
on top of the crate.
Feeling his balls tighten and his lust turn his thoughts to mush,
Spike slams into her harder, his fingers tightening on her breasts.
Her cunt begins to squeeze tighter and tighter, until he growls
and throws his head back. With a final deep thrust, he comes,
spurting his cold seed into her spasming channel.
On the edge of her own orgasm, Buffy whimpers and bucks
beneath him, as she feels him begin to soften inside her.
Frustrated, she smacks her hand down on the crate then slides it
down her stomach to her swollen clit.
Spike's fingers push hers away, and he rubs the tender bundle of
nerves just enough to send her over the edge. As she climaxes
with a soft cry, she lifts her head, arching her neck, and Spike
sinks his fangs into her flesh.
Eyes widening in shock and fear, Buffy gives a silently scream
and another orgasm crests through her, driving her wild beneath
him. His cock swells again and he thrusts hard, pounding her
down onto the crate as he sensuously draws blood from her.
She grunts with each thrust, her breasts rubbing raw against the
rough wood, her body on fire as the pain in her throat stimulates
the pleasure between her legs and draws her into another
climax.
As he reaches a quick orgasm, he pulls both cock and fangs
from her and slumps back against the wall. Gasping for breath
and shaking from repletion, Buffy sinks down onto her stomach,
her legs hanging over the edge of the crate, their combined
emissions pooling between her quivering thighs.
Spike stares at her, dazed. He's never come so hard and so fast
the second go round. He had planned to fuck her for an hour
or so, occasionally sipping from her, using her until they were
both weak-kneed and mewling from too many orgasms.
As a shudder of lust goes through him, he smirks evilly. Might
still...
Stunned by all that has happened, Buffy slowly staggers to her
feet and fumbles with her clothing. It takes her two attempts and
several gasping breaths before she manages to pull up her pants
and even longer to adjust her bra. Dropping her eyes to the
ground, she turns and searches for her shirt, not wanting to look
at him.
The flick of his lighter breaks the silence and she glimpses the
flame and smells burning tobacco, then spies her shirt and
quickly tugs it over her head.
Spike watches her, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his
mouth, pants only half-way fastened. He can tell she's
embarrassed and confused...and totally satisfied. He grins in
pride at that thought, relaxing against the wall, his own body still
tingling.
And he wonders if all Slayers are this damn good, or if it's just
her.
Huddling in her coat, staring blindly into the rain, Buffy slowly
raises one trembling hand to the wound in her neck. Beneath
her fingers she feels the healing holes, slick with blood and
perspiration, and something clenches in her stomach.
Lust and horror.
"Gonna stake me for biting you?"
Buffy doesn't turn, only swallows hard and presses the collar of
her shirt over the bite mark. "Why didn't you kill me?"
He's surprised by her question. Since teaming up with her, he
hasn't had one thought of killing her.
To be honest, he hasn't thought of killing her in a long time.
"Why would I do that? Waste of a hot, wet cunt, if I do say so
myself."
He ducks her punch, grinning as she snarls in fury. Good, past
the embarrassment and into anger again. Much better.
Blocking her next blow, he staggers back from a kick to the
stomach and nearly swallows his cigarette. "Truce," he chokes,
spitting out the cigarette, "we have a bloody truce."
"Bastard," Buffy hisses, fists clenched, eyes blazing.
"Didn't seem to matter a few minutes ago when you were
whimpering and fucking me like an animal."
Tears sparkle in her eyes and she kicks him in the shin. "You're a
pig, Spike." Grim satisfaction fills her as he hops around the
small space, clutching his leg.
"Fine, whatever," he hisses through clenched teeth. "It's
stopped
raining, can we go now?"
Spinning around, Buffy strides angrily and quickly from the
doorway, knowing he's following her. When he moves up to her
side, she ignores him, her anger keeping her silent and hopefully
preparing her for what she has to face, both her mother and
Angelus.
~~~~~
Spike was good to his word, he helped me and then took off
with Drusilla. I hope he never comes back.
I pray he never comes back.
I ran away that summer, trying to hide from myself, but I was
haunted by dreams.
Somehow almost all my dreams would shift from me with Angel
on the beach, on picnics, riding carousels and eating ice-cream,
to ones of me fucking Spike in every way imaginable. The
dreams with Angel were always in the sunlight, but those with
Spike were at night, in the dark.
And every time he came, he would croon to me that the dark
was where I belonged.
I began to believe him.
When I returned to Sunnydale and my mom and my friends, it
took a while for things to head in the right direction in my life,
and just as everything was finally getting better, Angel returned
from hell.
And he knows. Every time he looks at me, I know he knows
everything. The lie I told him, that I had been caught unawares
and a nameless vampire had sunk his fangs into me, is so weak
he can't help but disbelieve it.
He's never confronted me about it, but he's also never touched
me the same way he did before my seventeenth birthday. No
kisses, no lingering caresses. He helps me train, he helps me
patrol, but we're no longer anything near boyfriend and
girlfriend.
And...though I do love Angel and always will...a growing part of
me is glad he no longer wants me. Whether it's due to some
intrinsic knowledge that I slept with Spike, or just because we're
two very different people now, either way I know we're no longer
meant to be together.
That saddens me, but it also feels right.
Though we're both creatures of darkness, he's not the dark I
need. More and more I crave what I found in that alley. I hate
myself for wanting it, but I can't stop myself. Spike awakened
something inside me that Angel never could find. Not lust or
love or desire or even need, but something dark and hungry.
I wouldn't even want Angel with his soul to try to sate that
hunger, and though any other vampire probably could, I only
want one, the one who bit me, marked me as his.
But, he'll never come back and I won't go looking for him.
Someday the darkness and hunger growing inside me will
consume me, and I wonder if this happens to all Slayers.
I'll probably find out soon enough. We don't live long, after all.
The End
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