It was all Willow's fault, Buffy decided seconds before Spike's cool tongue lapped at her sex. They would never be in this position if it hadn't been for that stupid spell.

Yeah right, girlfriend, the Faith-esque like voice of hers said in her mind. Tell me you never wondered what it would be like to ride Blondie over there? Tell me that everytime you fought with him, you never secretly wondered if he would be as passionate in the sack as he was in battle?

Whimpering as his tongue curled around her clit, Buffy could only agree.

It was true.

And the spell just seemed to remind her of it. And it obviously reminded Spike as well or he wouldn't have been waiting for her as she snuck back into Giles' house later that same night.

Giles had finally decided to untie the vampire, obviously getting tired of listening to the endless demands the hapless vampire spouted off in order to annoy the watcher. If Spike were to run, then so be it. They had gotten as much out of him about the commandos as possible once Willow performed the truth spell as part of her penitence.

So, instead of dozing in a hard, wooden chair, Spike was lounging on the couch, reading one of Giles' books. He didn't even raise his eyes when he heard her step inside. He just continued to read—waiting for her to make the first move.

"Spike?"

He looked up over the book and Buffy gasped when she saw the same need and want in his eyes as she felt in her heart.

"Slayer," he said softly, closing the book and tossing it onto the coffee table. "So, what brings you back here? Want a little roll in the hay? Had a taste of Spike and want some more?"

She felt herself stiffen at his words and nearly turned around and left without saying another word.

"I can smell you, slayer," he whispered so softly she barely heard him.

She stopped—somehow feeling as if she were glued to the floor.

She heard him get up off the couch and walk slowly over towards her. A deep chill spread through her body as she felt him right behind her. "You want me, slayer," he said, speaking into her ear.

Her nipples ached as she felt them harden.

His tongue licked her neck causing her head to spin in need.

She dropped her head as the reality of the situation came crashing down on her.

He was right. She did want him. That's why she came over to Giles’ in the middle of night. Not to talk or apologize or whatever else her brain had tried cooking up as an excuse to see him—but because she wanted him.

He evoked something inside of her that hadn't been touched since those first fevered kisses she had shared with Angel. When her love had been dangerous and unknown—when the passion seemed to override every coherent thought in her mind.

Just the press of Spike's lips against hers did all that and so much more. Because, where Angel was soft and gentle, Spike was hard and demanding. He knew what he wanted and demanded it. There was no asking with Spike—it just was.

And that excited her—the slayer part of her. The part of her that was growing stronger with every day she managed to live through. She was a warrior and recognized those same qualities with Spike.

All that the spell did was remind her of what she already knew for truth—she wanted Spike.

She stepped back into his body and gasped when she felt his hard cock pressing against her buttocks. He growled softly as his hands grasped her hips and roughly turned her around to face him. Buffy lifted her hands up and touched his chest as her head tilted upwards. Their eyes met and she watched as flickers of gold danced in his otherwise cerulean blue eyes.

And suddenly their lips met and Buffy knew then that they had just passed the point of no return; Spike was to be her third lover.

After that, everything was a blur. Clothes were torn off their bodies and tossed aside as both of them tried tasting every part of one another. Spike had pushed her down and crawled in between her legs and attacked her sex with his mouth—sending her spiraling closer and closer to climax.

All Willow's fault, she thought to herself as her body clenched as she experienced her first orgasm of the night—biting so hard on her lip that she drew blood. All so she wouldn't wake her watcher upstairs.

Spike crawled up her body, so much like a panther, she felt herself tingle in need all over again, until his cock was poking at her entrance. She looked up and met blazing eyes and arched her back in encouragement.

Instead, he cupped her face and stared straight into her eyes as his face changed to its true nature. A part of her was repelled at the sight—instinctively wanting that stake that had rolled out of her shirt earlier to kill this vampire that had always managed to slip through her fingers. Whether by truce or strength or need—he had bested her when no one else did.

But another part of her—the part that bore the scars of his sire on her neck—recognized the demon and was aroused by it—needing it like she had never needed anything else in her life.

Bringing her hands up, she held his face, her thumbs tracing his angular cheekbones and gently urged his face downwards so their lips could meet. Growling softly, he kissed her—fangs scraping her lips as he sunk into her.

Minutes went by as their passion-filled coupling soon reached its end and then he did the impossible—he marked her as his.

When she first felt his fangs sink into her breast, her body still reeling from her second climax, any question was quickly eclipsed by a third orgasm, and the most powerful. It wasn't until he had lifted his head and met her eyes with his now human eyes, that her mouth dropped open in shock.

"How?"

With his head resting on her breast and tongue lapping on her wounds, she felt him shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it was because you knew that I wasn't trying to hurt you and I wasn't planning on hurting you."

She nodded, realizing that explanation was as good as any as she caressed his soft locks, enjoying the almost maternal feel of having Spike suckle on her breast.

After nearly five minutes, he lifted his head and sighed softly as their eyes met. "This isn't going to work, is it?" he asked her softly.

Her eyes shut against the tears as she shook her head. "No, I don't think it will. But damnit Spike, a part of me really wishes it could." She opened her eyes in time to catch a flash of pain in his dark eyes, before they once again took on that familiar coolness.

He rolled off her and lay on the floor next to her, staring at the ceiling. "Bloody spell," he whispered. "Mucked everything up."

"It sure did."

An hour later, Buffy was back in her dorm room—surrounded by Spike's scent as her mind kept repeating that look of pain that flashed across his face.

It nearly broke her heart.