If he’d only known what he was getting himself into when he’d found the sexy half-dead blonde laying near the burning high school, he probably would have let her burn. But now, like all the other times, his cock ruled the roost and that’s all there was to it. She was already drained to the point of death, her heart a faint murmur under the green cashmere sweater she had tied around her neck. She looked like an angel sleeping on the pavement, the glow of the burning building in the background giving her an ethereal effulgence.

Surely he could have left her there to die like the rest of them. But for whatever reason unbeknownst to him, he decided to offer a bit of himself to her. Drusilla had moved on with her fungus demon, it was time for him to do a bit of ‘moving on’ himself!

With that, he slit his wrist, causing the blood to flow freely from his veins. He brought the glossy lips of the young girl to the open wound and she drank deeply—then she died. Bringing her to the underground cavern, he lay next to her until the following evening.

While she lay there beside him, he imagined that she were the Slayer. He’d done the draining and brought her salvation with a vampire’s kiss—making her his queen for all eternity. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the Slayer’s petite form next to him. His fingers trailed up the blonde’s thigh, to the curls guarding her sex. He rubbed her clit and dreamt of her response—fangs sunk deep into his chest, straddling him, and guiding his growing manhood into her slick opening.

Instead, he was met with the still-dead and painfully dry crotch of his mate-to-be. He knew that soon she would spring back to life, and he would make her wrap her shiny pink lips around his rigid cock and suck him drier than the Sahara.

Two hours later, the little angel stirred. She reminded him of a kitten stretching from a nap in a sunbeam. Oh yes, she’d do just fine. However, his revelry didn’t last long. The first thing he noticed was the voice. Like nails on a chalkboard. And it whined. A lot. I’m hungry. Eww! I’m sooo pale! I wanna go outside! Can I bite one of my ex-boyfriends? How about one of those bitches that stole my boyfriend? I’m horny…Well, that last thing she offered wasn’t such a bad thing. As long as she kept her damned mouth shut, she’d do just fine for him.

Now she was yammering on and on about going to France, going to a party or some other nonsense. God, she was annoying. One more word from her and he might have to stake her! But now he had more pressing matters at hand. The Gem of Amara. Once and for all he could kick the Slayer’s ass all over Sunnyhell.

The Slayer had performed some truly spectacular ass-kickings on him over the last couple of years. That hurt his ego more than anything. Mainly because he was the killer of not one, but TWO Slayers for chrissake! This silly little bint shouldn’t have been any harder to kill than a pesky fly. But for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, she’d managed to best him time and again. He simply HAD to find this gem—and get this Slayer out of his mind once and for all.

That particular feat was becoming increasingly difficult, as Harmony continued to go on and on and on about sodding France and the icky tasting meals his lackey’s had provided for her. In order to shut her fucking mouth once and for all, he finally relented and promised to take her to a party. Thankfully, she shut up and ran upstairs to beautify herself.

* * * * *

Ah, a fraternity party. How he remembered those days with fondness! Drusilla and he had the time of their lives feeding on the unsuspecting drunk frat boys-- no one even taking notice of them. Most who had walked in assumed they were having a three-way with another intoxicated co-ed and had promptly shut the door. And occasionally they got exceptionally lucky and their intruder had asked to join in on the fun. He and Dru had done some very naughty things with the corpses—and he couldn’t wait to introduce Harmony to the joys of necrophilia.

Harmony entered the house and scanned the room, searching for the tastiest (and most drunk) morsel she could find. Didn’t take her long before she found her target. A handsome brunette stud staggered in the hallway and she slipped under his arm to support him.

"Hey there, baby. Looks like you’re having fun, aren’t you?" she grinned coyly, pinning the boy against the wall and grinding her hips rhythmically against his crotch. The boy had taken the bait—hook, line and sinker. Soon, he was nuzzling her neck. Spike watched in awe as she showed unbelievable restraint. Her unneeded breath came harder and faster as her lips hovered above his pulsing jugular. She glanced over his shoulder and gave Spike the signal and the vampire walked upstairs to the empty bedroom.

Spike hid in the shadows and waited expectantly for his prey. In no time, she’d coaxed the boy to join her for some ‘one-on-one’ time upstairs and he stumbled into the room. Slamming the door behind her, she forced Frat Boy onto the bed, straddling his stiff member.

"You wanna fuck me, don’t you baby?" she hissed.

He nodded quietly like the stupid git that he was. Spike still stood in the shadows, unnoticed, taking pleasure in watching her seduction. Her hips rose and fell against the boy and he groaned loudly, reaching for his belt buckle. Yet instead of allowing him to free his erection, she continued to torture him with a lapdance that would shame a stripper. Back and forth—side to side—she stroked her leather clad pussy atop the bulge in his pants until she made him come.

It was almost as painful to watch her as it was to be the man beneath that sultry vixen. Reaching his hands into his pants, Spike began masturbating as he viewed the show she put on for him.

When the frat boy was spent from his orgasm, she yanked the belt from his jeans and tied his hands to the bedpost. To her credit, she could tie knots that Houdini himself couldn’t have escaped from. Now buttons were scattering everywhere as she tore his shirt open violently. Razor sharp fingernails scored his unmarred flesh, drawing copious amounts of blood along the way. Yet, she never tasted a drop. Not until she’d reached the edge of his pants. Slowly and carefully she undid his jeans and held his unimpressive cock in her thin fingers. Gold flashed in her eyes and she plunged her fangs deep within his dick, drawing a mixture of semen and blood. The boy screamed-- as poncy wankers like himself usually did.

"Mind if I join, pet?" Spike growled. Not really a question directed at her, more of a warning to the boy of things to come—or not come as the case may be.

Harmony and Spike draped the nearly-dead man’s arms around their shoulders and led him downstairs. No one at the party paid them a bit of attention as they made their way to the door. However their cover was blown, when who should enter the room but the Slayer herself.

Her eyes widened in shock, "Spike…and Harmony!"

The Slayer looked more than amused. Looked damn near hysterical laughter. Harmony, right on cue, insulted her outfit. That’s my girl.

"Well, this is interesting," Spike mused, looking from Buffy to the new boy that followed her around like a lost puppy. "Sort of a double date."

The pathetic-excuse-for-a-boy made some joke about the party starting a little early for the frat boy they carried. Buffy took notice of the puncture marks at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Best to get the subject changed, and fast, before she could whip out a stake and dust the two of them. He wagered however, that Buffy was still Secret Identity Girl and wouldn’t try so bold a maneuver in this crowd, so he decided it would be fun to play some mind games with her.

"So, let’s have a look at the new boy…" Spike said, looking him up and down.

The boy was unkempt, not exactly Buffy’s type by any standard. The hair was too tousled and he smelled like sex—and it wasn’t hers. And now the boy was putting his hand forth, as if the vampire would actually shake it. He considered it for a minute, but decided just to glare—besides, he still had cum on his hands from his recent masturbation. On second thought…

"Hi, I’m Parker."

Parker? What the hell kind of name was that? The boy shyly held out his hand a second longer, then replaced it by his side. Spike began to envision the Slayer and her college boy toy fucking wildly in his dorm room. Of course, the Slayer could never be sated with the likes of this ‘child’. The girl needed some monster in her man—someone who could take a good beating, whose bones wouldn’t crush beneath the clenching of her thighs.

"He’s got…what’s the word? Vulnerability." Oh, that had gotten her attention—if looks could stake…

"And you with Harmony," she stifled a giggle, "what did you do, lose a bet?"

Ouch! No time to sit around slinging barbs at each other. Time for evasive action. Buffy wasn’t likely to leave her little boy toy alone in a sea of women who were older and just as capable of giving him the pleasure she could.

"Actually, funny story how we met…"

With that, he was throwing the unconscious partygoer in her direction, running for the exit and leaving Harmony to fend for herself. Hopefully Buffy would give her a good slaying—then he’d be rid of that whiny voice forever. Shoving a few of the kids aside as he made his way outdoors, he hid in some shrubbery to see if the curious Slayer followed him. Sure enough, here she came. Pitiful Parker nowhere in sight. How interesting.

It was almost as if he had a homing beacon, Buffy seemingly sensing his presence right away. But not before he got in a good punch across her face. She threw a few good jabs herself, but not good enough for this experienced fighter. Well, at least not until she said ‘the name’.

"What’s the matter Spike? Dru dump you again?"

SMACK!

Oh yes, that one hurt. Not the punch, mind you, but the thought of Drusilla. Memories came flooding back to him. God how it hurt. Dru just couldn’t fathom the obsession he had with the Slayer. No matter how hard she tried to make him forget, he couldn’t stop talking about killing the girl. But what bothered him more is that Dru was convinced without a doubt that Spike had more going on under the surface than an obsession with killing the Slayer.

Granted, on occasion he’d become flaccid in her cold, pale hands when she’d tried to pleasure him after they’d left Sunnyhell. And yes, on more than one occasion he’d even shouted Buffy’s name while they made love. The demon inside him screamed, telling him that killing her would be the only way to rid himself of the thoughts that pervaded his mind day and night. That’s all it was, the demon commanding the kill—nothing more.

"Maybe I left her!" he shouted. Ok, that was the lamest comeback he’d ever come up with. He was the Big Bad, dammit! And now to make matters even better, along came Harmony.

"She left him for a fungus demon. That's all he talks about most days," Harmony chimed in.

Yes Harmony, and while you’re at it, why don’t you just cut off my balls and hand deliver them to the Slayer personally?

He was going to kill the stupid bint for opening her godforsaken mouth! Torture her first, then kill her. "Harm! We are going. It isn't time yet."

They turned and left the Slayer looking dumbfounded at the two of them. Why she wasn’t getting right to the slayage was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to turn back and ask. And now Harmony was turning around to glare at the Slayer, "Yeah, but as soon as we have the Gem of Amara, you're gonna be sorr-…"

Oh no she didn’t! She didn’t! Yes, yes she did. She really fucking did.

"Arrrgh!" was his only frustrated response as he yanked her arm nearly out of the socket. She really had no idea what was the big deal of blurting out his master plan to kill the Slayer. Stupid fucking bitch! He’d had enough! And right before the Slayer’s eyes, he plunged the stake deep into Harmony’s chest and she disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Buffy just stood in front of him stunned. And now the poncy little wanker she brought to the party with her was running out to meet her.

"What’s going on here?" Parker inquired, his bulging eyes annoying the hell out of Spike. It took all kinds of restraint not to just pluck them out of his mop-haired little head! Now the boy was stroking the Slayer’s hair as if she were some kind of kitten, saying how worried he was about her. Oh give me a break! She’s not really going to fall for this crap, is she?

And now the dewy-eyed girl was staring up at him with her come-hither lashes, practically hip-to-hip with the boy. She was explaining how Spike was a ‘friend’ and he wasn’t supposed to drink and how he was now in the land of the beer . The boy stared at her with those godforsaken bulgy eyes—looked as if he might kiss her—but instead started cooing some bullshit about how she was such a good ‘friend’.

It was just too much to watch this gross display right in his presence.

"Oh for Christ sake Parker! You smell like pussy!" Spike began, challenging the boy.

"Did you just call me a pussy?" the boy asked, looking up at him. Now he looked like he might want to fight. Spike was okay with that scenario.

"No," Spike responded to the ignorant boy, "I said you SMELL like pussy. You’re bloody covered in it! You REEK of it! If I didn’t know better, you were doing a little carpet munching only a few hours ago, am I wrong?"

The boy stammered and stuttered at this revelation, and Buffy glared at the boy with looks that could kill.

"Ohhhh," he continued, "Didn’t know that, did ya Slayer? Yep. You’re boy ‘Pah-kuh’ here seems to fancy the female species quite a bit, judging from the scent of him."

Buffy continued to stare at Parker, waiting for him to make an excuse, but the boy just fumbled over his words. She was clearly pissed at what Spike was implying.

Spike confidently strode over to Parker and placed his hand firmly against the boy’s zipper. Parker stood frozen, glaring at the vampire.

"Oh Buffy," Spike said with a delicious grin on his face, "He never could have pleasured you with this tiny thing anyways. Perhaps you need a man who’s better…what’s the word? Equipped."

The vampire was shocked into silence as he watched the Slayer’s eyes fixed on his waist and witnessed the erection that protruded from the center of his duster. What surprised him more is that he’d achieved the largest erection he’d ever experienced at the thought that HE would be the man who could provide her with more pleasure than Bug-Eyed Boy over here.

"Is that an offer?" Buffy inquired, raising an eyebrow to him and licking her lips in anticipation.

What the…was she FLIRTING with him? Oh right, now she was trying to make the boy jealous. And now she walked up to the vampire, gliding her fingers over the buttons of his shirt—down to the swelling cock that stretched against the fabric of his jeans painfully.

"I have a lot to..offer," Spike stammered, his voice cracked from the pleasure coursing through the lower half of his body.

Those hot little hands still toyed playfully with his dick. If he hadn’t just cum earlier, he probably would have filled his jeans with the sticky fluid. Very talented hands she had. Gripped his cock like she did her stake. And with that thought, he was harder than ever.

"Yes, you certainly do, Spike. I can feel it. Pulsing as I run my fingers over it. Makes me want to put it in…"

His mind went blank for a moment as the blood rushed in the opposite direction as his brain. He staggered as the weight of his engorged testicles shouted for release.

"Come with me," he commanded. She obeyed without hesitation. It was difficult to walk with the mile to his underground lair, but soon enough they had arrived. Barely clearing the entranceway, he pinned her against the wall of the cave and began to press his unyielding cock against her thigh. His hands worked quickly to free her of her pants and his fingers quickly sought out the cotton thong she wore beneath.

He gasped. She was dripping wet with cream, heat emanating from her silken folds. Before he knew what hit him, his hands had been slapped out of the way and she leapt up—wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, unzipping his pants for him and guiding him in.

"Oh…my…Buffy…so tight…so hot and wet. Gonna fuck you…fuck you hard."

"Yes! Right there…Spike…fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Yes! YESSSSSS!!!!" she screamed as the beginnings of orgasm shook her body.

Withdrawing from her to make this moment last, he heard her whimper. The pain of his engorged member had not yet been relieved—her climax stopped short before she could reach the edge.

"Want more, luv?" he asked, his voice hinting that this was nothing compared to what was to come—figuratively speaking, of course.

"Yes…please!" she pleaded with him, gripping her pussy as she tried to end the suffering of her swollen clit.

"Then we’ll do this my way. And I guarantee when I finish with you, you’ll BEG me to kill you rather than spend the rest of your life knowing that this was the best sex you’ll ever have!"

Fuck the Gem of Amara. He was going to make the Slayer so miserable with want that she’d willingly help him find it. Then she’d beg him over and over again for one more…just one more fuck. And he’d say ‘no’. She’d go insane without it and he’d take great pleasure torturing her with his Slayers Only abstinence.

"Give me your best shot." she challenged.

* * * * * * * *

Best shot didn’t begin to describe what he gave the Slayer. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he guided her backwards towards the bed. Always keeping his mouth a hair’s breadth away from her lips. She attempted to kiss him, but he’d always stayed just out of her reach.

As she reached the foot of the bed, he slowly pushed down on her shoulders, laying her half-naked body beneath his. Sliding his hands gracefully beneath her ribcage, he pulled the shirt that restricted his view of her breasts over her head. There she lay in all her glory, her tight body heaving with anticipation.

"Scoot back near the headboard, luv." She did as he directed, her fingers slipping over her slick opening as she moved.

"I’ve got an extra set of chains nearby if you don’t keep your hands away from there, pet."

Hands froze in place, "Eww…just because…SHE went for stuff like that doesn’t mean I do."

With panther-like grace he crawled above her, "Drusilla."

"Whatever," she replied annoyed at the name of the woman who’d had this blonde god first.

"Say her name." he demanded.

"Droodzilla?" she joked.

A nearly undetectable frown pulled his mouth down, "Bite your tongue."

A coy look cocked her eyebrow upward, "Do it for me."

"With pleasure," he growled and nipped at the soft and yielding muscle she offered him.

Drawing her tongue further into his mouth, he allowed the tiny pink offering full exploration of his mouth. The copper taste of his recent meal mingled with the sweetness of her lips, drawing a snarl from deep within his throat. The animalistic sound only made her delve deeper into his mouth, greedy for the monster she craved in her man.

She whimpered like a wounded kitten as he drew his mouth away and began to trace his lips down down her neck, hovering just above her jugular. His eyes burned with an amber glow as the demon sprang forth, grazing the surface of her skin with his razor sharp fangs. A light trickle of blood welled up at the site of the wound and he licked it with unbridled fury. Her hands tangled in the hairs at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer to her.

Drunk with the aphrodisiac of her blood, he continued to lick and lap at her throat, kissing the hollow in the front as she gasped for breath. The harder she panted, the more blood pumped to the surface of her veins—he could nearly hear it screaming his name. Or was it Buffy? Didn’t appear to matter as he continued to pleasure every inch of her body.

His lips caught the peak of her nipple and he sucked it deeply into his mouth, drawing a satisfied moan from her. Yet he noticed as he nibbled at the sensitive flesh, she still fluttered her fingers down below, writhing with pleasure. Can’t have any of that. Anyone was going to be doing the pleasuring around here, it would be him…and only him! With one swift move, he grabbed the chains beside the bed and cuffed her hands to the headboard. Her body was wracked with so much passion that she’d barely noticed them until they were securely around her wrists.

His lips traveled further, above the receptive nerves near her navel. With every kiss, every lick, she squirmed to bring him closer to her. However, he teased the hell out of her body—one moment acting as if he may give in, the next he pulled away and began the torture anew in another highly sensitive area.

The torture didn’t stop there.

Removing all of his clothing in front of her, she gasped in shock at the impressive size of his dick. Her lips opened and closed, struggling to wrap themselves around it. Instead he lay beside her, skin-on-skin, and began to trace his finger down her sides…trailing further down her thighs…then back up again--mere inches away from her sodden pussy. He repeated the act over and over and over again, each time bring his fingers closer to the swollen clit that all but burst forth when they neared the hot core.

Crying now with pleading tears, she screamed, "Please Spike! Please! I NEED to come! Make me come! I…oh god, not again….Oh! There…ahhhh…yes…NO! Go back..Pleeeeeeease!"

Just when he thought she couldn’t go on a minute longer, he plunged his tongue into her sweet, steaming sex—tempting her clit even further with every stroke of the tantalizing muscle. He’d wait for her to come to the edge, then bring her down again. Over and over again. Then, when she least expected it, nearly spent with the need that coursed through her body, he spread her pliable thighs open and slid himself inside her.

Shallow thrusts drew ragged breaths from the girl as she clenched her inner muscles around him, trying with all her might to lure him in further. When his need finally overtook him, he buried his cock deep within her, bringing them both over the edge—their need exploding together in their raging climax.

* * * * * * * *

Sunrise was approaching and Buffy began to stir. Cool fingers cupped her sex protectively, twitching in response to her moment. Pleasure shot through her body at the mildest of his touches and she drenched his fingertips with her arousal. Unfortunately, the bliss was short-lived as he pulled his hand away, leaving their bed to get dressed.

Buffy just lay there, observing his finely sculptured body moving in the dim candlelight. She half-expected him to take one look at her and pounce on her again. However, that was not the case. He walked over to a table that displayed several bottles of different colored liquor and opened a decanter. Pouring himself a glass, he looked back at Buffy.

"Something you needed, pet?"

Something she needed? Aside from having him fuck her insane like he had hours ago? No, not a damned thing! "Um, just gotta get up the energy to get out of bed," she finally managed to say.

Thoughts began to creep into her head as she realized he wasn’t interested in any more of their sexcapades. Was he really ready to discard her so easily? Is that all that their time together had meant? And yes, another thought popped into her head—was she not good?

Then he left. He LEFT! Just like that!

She lay there replaying everything over and over in her head. Then grouchy and unfulfilled, she searched for her clothing amongst the clutter in his makeshift bedroom. Her body was stiff and sore from the night before and her body ached from deep within, craving more.

She was a bit surprised when he returned smelling like he’d taken a shower.

"Something else you needed, luv?"

Luv. He’d called her luv. That one word made her pussy clench with want. And now he was coming towards her. Seating himself beside her. Nuzzling close to her ear. And now he whispered with a deep and sensual voice, "A kiss perhaps?"

She grinned a bit sheepishly and answered, "I was going to go with pants, but a kiss would be nice too."

His lips moved from near her ear, around the side of her face, and just short of her lips. The entire side of her body tingled with anticipation of feeling his luscious lips on hers again. Her eyelids closed, waiting expectantly to feel the kiss pressing on her. Instead, she felt her pants being dropped into her lap.

"Too bad. I already explained to you that this was a one time deal. Best get dressed before your roommate misses you."

Willow! She’d forgotten that she was supposed to meet with her and Giles this morning! How was she ever going to explain this?

Quietly, she opened the door to their room, hoping nobody was there. Instead, there stood Willow at the computer desk while Giles clicked away at the keys. They turned to see Buffy entering the room, still tying the back of her top.

"Giles! Uh, I didn’t know you were here."

The watcher made some comment under his breath that Buffy thankfully couldn’t make out.

"I was studying at the library. All Saturday night." Giles gave her his famous ‘yeah, right’ look. Ok, that wasn’t going to work. "Uh, you know what. I'm an adult now and it's none of your business what I do."

Giles snorted, "I'm sincerely relieved to hear that. Now can we discuss the impending disaster?"

Willow excitedly bounced, unable to keep inside the news, "Giles found something."

A little annoyed, Giles continued, "A text. It refers to the gem of amara as residing in the valley of the sun."

"Demon fancy talk for Sunnydale." Willow chimed in again.

"It seems that Spike may know what it's about. The gem may exist after all, in Sunnydale in a sealed underground crypt."

Buffy looked at her watcher, half embarrassed and not entirely paying attention. Devising a quick plan in her head, she feigned concern and told Giles, "Why don't you guys try and locate the crypt and I'll try to find Spike before he gets there."

The watcher seemed satisfied with that idea and left. Willow looked as if she were about to burst, waiting for any crumb of gossip Buffy might have about her overnight excursion.

"Did it happen with Parker?" she asked, flopping down next to the bed and grinning ear to ear.

Buffy smirked, "No, it didn’t happen. I mean, i-it happened, just not with Parker."

A look of shock flashed across Willow’s face, then morbid curiosity took over, ""Well, and? Details! I mean, not details, I don't need a diagram. But, you know, like maybe a blurry watercolor."

In some ways Buffy thought as if she might burst with details, wanting to recount every gratifying touch and sensation. In other ways, shame and humiliation in admitting her lust for Spike was nearly too much to bear. But Willow WAS her best friend after all, so she decided to spill—or at least dribble—the details.

"It was nice….it was REALLY nice. Oh, fuck it, it was an event that deserves it’s own holiday!"

Willow jumped at Buffy’s vulgar language. "Wow Buffy, it MUST have been good to hear you talk like THAT!"

"It was spectacular!" Buffy continued. "I mean, I didn’t think it was possible for it to feel that good! I mean, it made Angel look like a virgin! And don’t get me started about the size…oh lord, the size!"

Buffy noticed Willow biting her lower lip, looking as if she might go nuts, "So…who was the lucky guy?"

There was no answer. The silence was deafening. Willow continued to stare at Buffy, while Buffy stared blankly at the ground.

"Buffy?" Willow asked again.

"Promise not to freak out?" Buffy questioned, picking nervously at her fingernail.

"Of course!"

"I mean it. You can’t tell my mom…or Xander…and especially not Giles."

"I won’t Buffy! C’mon! Tell me!!!"

"Swear it first," Buffy looked at her with pleading eyes.

"I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die a slow and horribly painful death. Now spill!!!"

"It was…" Buffy barely whispered, "Spike."

Willow fainted.