***
"Sara Chadwick, born 1789, died 1822 aged thirty-three. Beloved wife of Lawrence Chadwick the third, mother to Lawrie and Emily," read Willow from the old headstone. Spike took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled.
"Died of syphilis, which she caught from her houseboy lover, who was infected by her hubby who was buggering him after he was done servicing his mistress."
Willow smirked and turned to look at him. "That's the eighth one tonight that you have killed off with syphilis."
Spike shrugged. "What can I say? There was syphilis epidemic...all these rich old farts frequented the same whorehouse. Spread like wildfire."
Willow giggled as he led her deeper into the scattered garden of graves.
It had been nearly a month since that night in LA and somehow they had managed to spend most of their time together without anyone discovering them. Except for Giles. That was becoming a pain in the ass for Spike. At night he could escape and be with Willow, but the days were sheer torture with the Watcher giving him endless lectures accompanied by threats of a long and painful death should he hurt her in anyway.
It was starting to become difficult for Spike to remain indifferent
to Willow during the hours when they were trapped in Giles apartment with
the rest of the Scooby Gang. Increasingly difficult. Every time she walked
into a room he wanted to wrap his arms about her, claim her lips in a possessive
kiss, drag her down onto his lap and keep her there - let everyone know
that she belonged to him. But he didn't. Instead he made do with sitting
next to her, resting his thigh against hers or sitting across from her,
watching her animated face as she talked or read. Occasionally during those
'research' sessions she would grant him one of her beautiful 'I love you'
smiles, or better yet a cheeky 'take me hard and fast in the kitchen' grin
and then blush. He sighed, he just loved those.
"Luisa Ninfanti, born 1772, died 1832 aged 60. Daughter of God, beloved
mother to the lost children. May she rest in peace." Willow reading another
headstone shattered Spike's quiet reflection.
"She's the one responsible for the plague of syphilis," he stubbed out
his cigarette out on the headstone and bought Willow's hand up to his lips
to kiss. "You see she adopted all the little orphans and sold their bodies
and innocence to the wealthy gentlemen of this hellhole. She was the Madame
of one of the most successful brothels in town. Whatever took a man or
demons fancy she could supply."
He broke away from Willow to stand in front of her in a very feminine
pose.
"So," he lisped and pouted. "You're looking for a little piece of virgin
flesh, preferably no more than twelve?"
Twisting about he stood opposite to his 'feminine' character and took
on the stance of a fat man.
"That's right," he affirmed in a gruff and vulgar voice. "I've got a
tiny willy so I need something tight and small to make me feel like a real
man."
With that final comment he grunted and thrust his hips forward. Looking
down at his crotch and still in character a goofy look spread across his
face. "Whoops, too late!"
Willow laughed at him and stepped into his ever-ready embrace. Kissing
the top of her head he chuckled at his own performance. It was all part
of the games they played. Romantic venues were limited to motels, parks,
little hideaways, and of course the Desoto. The many cemeteries in Sunnydale
made a somewhat macabre but romantic setting for the two and generally
ensured their privacy, more so than the other places which were often frequented
by a number of Sunnydale's population. To ease the morbid ambience they
would stroll amongst the dead reading the details and then make up stories.
Still Spike was getting sick of it and so was Willow...literally.
"Kiss me," she demanded of him, curling her fingers in his short hair
and pulling him down to her. As she deepened the kiss and his tongue hungrily
sought out her mouth, she became aware of a buzzing sound. Dismissing it
she leant against him, her hand wandering down to his groin. She wasn't
at all surprised to find him as hard as a rock. He moaned into her mouth,
his hands cupping her ass to bring her in flush against him, rubbing against
her wickedly delightful hand.
The buzzing got louder. Spike tore his mouth away from hers with an
annoyed growl, his eyes flashing gold.
"What the fuck is that?" he asked glancing about the cemetery. A single
headlight was making its way through the cemetery gates. "Love, where were
those Bjornanji demons holed up?"
"What? Um...well, I think here...but Buffy slew them all," Willow said
unaware of the demon riding toward them on a motorbike, she was too busy
rubbing against him. Spike grabbed her and threw her up onto a huge marble
covered grave.
"Well big bloody surprise she missed one. Stay," he raised his finger
and eyebrow at her. She was about to protest when she caught his eye and
the flashes of gold that meant he was in no mood to discuss it. Shutting
her mouth she watched as he literally stalked toward the approaching motorbike.
"Bloody Slayer. She's the chosen one; does she do her job properly?
No, bloody well leaves the dregs about to annoy the crap out of me when
I'm busy. Stupid little bint needs to get her ass kicked," he muttered
trying to ignore his painful hard on. He wasn't certain whether it was
his cock or his demon that was in control at the moment. Probably both
since they were equally screaming in need for the redhead behind him. Glancing
around wildly he spotted a fallen tree branch and picked it up to use as
a weapon. Standing in the middle of the gravel littered path he waited
as the demon revved the bike, making the engine scream and headed straight
for him. "Come on you bloody pillock, I have better things to do then waste
time cleaning up after the bloody slayer."
Tossing the weight of the branch between his hands, he had no idea how
he was going to take this demon out but his cock and demon were screaming
for him to do it quickly and get back to Willow. Clenching his jaw and
grinding his teeth together he drew back the branch and swung it at the
approaching demon's head. It was a swing that would have made a professional
baseball or golf player jealous.
"FORE!" he yelled as the branch connected with the demons head, one
swift and fatal swing that decapitated it. The head went flying through
the night sky to land with a sickening thud somewhere amongst the graves.
The bike skidded and fell over, the motor still screaming as the throttle
was caught open, and the demon's body twitched and shuddered a small distance
from it.
"Is it dead?" asked Willow from the safety of her perch on the raised
grave. Spike grinned and walked over to her, holding out his arms. Smiling
Willow wrapped hers about his neck and shivered as he lifted her down,
her body slowly sliding down his. Before her feet even had the chance to
touch the ground his mouth crashed down on hers, hungry and ravenous. Instead
of releasing her, Spike pushed her back against the grave, forcing her
to lie down on the cool marble surface. Without breaking the kiss he worked
his way between her legs, resting his body flush against hers. He tore
his mouth away and moaned against her neck as she began to rock her hips,
her hands creeping beneath his shirt and duster to claw at his back and
work their way down to his ass. Her hot breath caressed his ear while he
covered her neck with kisses. "Spike."
"Willow," he murmured licking her ear, one of his hands working it's
way below the waistband of her pants.
"Spike, it's moving," she moaned, rolling her head back and arching
her back.
"You always make it move, love," he barely breathed over her ear, his
hand trying to undo the flies on both their jeans at once.
"Spike the demon, it's moving!" screamed Willow pushing him off her.
Spike twisted his head and looked over his shoulder at the headless demon
that was blindly staggering towards them.
"Oh bloody hell," he hissed, reluctantly pulling himself off Willow
and kicking out at the headless body, sending it sprawling to the ground.
He lunged for the heavy branch that had decapitated it and shoved it through
the still flaying body, pinning it to the ground. Spike watched as the
body continued to writhe and squirm. "You're a bloody kill joy, mate."
Willow had moved off the grave and was standing beside him, rather dishevelled,
a frown marring her face as she looked at the struggling demon. "What do
we do now?"
Spike looked from Willow to the demon and back to Willow. His cock was
screaming for a good hard post kill shag, or just a shag in general. His
demon was screaming to possess Willow in general. Then there was that tiny
little bit of his mind, also being distracted by the idea of sex, which
was whispering 'make sure the bugger is dead THEN shag until you're both
unconscious'. He really hated that part of his mind at the moment.
"We burn the bastard," Spike walked over to the still revving motorbike
and picked it up, shutting down the motor. He looked closely at it - a
big beautiful black BMW classic bike. Stroking the leather seat he grinned,
he just scored himself a new toy, after all possession was nine tenths
of the law. Actually in the demon world possession was the only law. Turning
the bike around he wheeled it back to the still body and set it up on its
stand. Squatting down next to the demon he searched it and pocketed a great
big wad of cash.
Willow watched in silence. During their time together she had seen Spike
kill a number of demons, generally not as swiftly as this one. He took
pleasure in their pain and liked to beat the crap out them. When he had
first taken things from the dead bodies she'd been appalled, but then who
was she to judge him? She had always known that the money he spent on her
had to come from somewhere and it seemed justifiable - it wasn't as if
the rotting corpses would need the cash. Her thoughts were distracted by
Spike pouring some petrol over the body, causing it to jerk about.
"Well there's life in the old fart yet," Spike grinned at Willow. Waggling
his eyebrows he lit a match. "Won't be for much longer."
Dropping the match the flailing demon lit up and an inhuman sound of
pain came from the flames. Spike wrapped his arm about Willow's waist drawing
her to him, shielding her from any danger that could result from the demon
bonfire. As her hand wandered up to his chest, her head resting against
his shoulder, he caught it and entwined his fingers with hers. Watching
as the demon burned he played with her fingers, sucking on the tips and
relishing in the soft moan that escaped her. It was time to escape from
the threat of being interrupted again.
"Come on, love," he said turning away from the dying flames and pulling
her towards the bike. "Let's go get naked."
He climbed onto the massive bike and kicked it over, grinning as the
engine roared between his legs. He glanced at Willow expectantly. Unfortunately
it did not look good, she was standing there with her arms crossed shaking
her head.
"Get on, Willow," he demanded. Willow merely shook her head. Spike rolled
his eyes and grunted. "Why not?"
"Lot's of reasons. Firstly, do you even know how to ride one of those
things? Secondly, I'm tired and I don't want to go traipsing all over the
country side," Willow started to back away, she knew that her resolve of
getting an early night was ready to fly out the door as soon as he turned
his delightfully wicked blue eyes on her and clenched his jaw.
Spike gritted his teeth. He knew she was tired and had promised that
it would be an early night tonight, just as he had promised for the past
month, although they rarely parted company before four each morning.
"Yes, I know how to ride a bike. Come on Willow, you know I won't let
anything happen to you," he stated revving the engine. Teasingly Willow
shook her head and took a side step away from him. Spike lurched the bike
forward, stopping her from taking another step. Tilting his head he smirked
at her, his eyes full of the promise of carnal intent. "Get on the bike."
He had that low seductive purr going. Willow knew that she wouldn't
say no. Still she shook her head and took two steps in the other direction.
Again Spike wheeled the bike about to stop her.
"Willow," he leant forward and mouthed her ear. "Get on the bike."
That was her downfall, his mouth on her ear, growling his demands. As
his mouth moved from her ear to her cheek and onto her mouth, she moved
into him, her arms encircling his waist. Breaking the kiss she sighed and
threw her leg over the bike, settling in behind him, holding on tightly.
Spike smirked to himself and gave her thigh an affectionate squeeze before
gunning the engine and hightailing it out of the cemetery.
They sped through the deserted streets of the outskirts of town, heading
up an old road that led into the hills behind Sunnydale. Winding and steep,
but still Spike maintained the speed of the bike, leaning it into the sharp
bends and curves of the road, grinning as Willow squealed and tightened
her grip. He loved speed, he always had and always would, and his new toy
just added to the pleasure. The bike gave him freedom, more so than the
Desoto, perhaps it was the element of danger, perhaps it was feeling of
unity...Willow's hand snaked down to his crotch, stroking his cock, making
him hard. He opened the throttle sending the bike hurtling towards their
destination - who was he kidding, it was all part of the bad boy image
that he loved to live. Finally he rode the bike down a dirt track, stopping
in an open clearing in the woods and killing the engine. He twisted round
so that he could lean back and pulled Willow up onto his lap.
"This is pretty," she said wrapping her arms about his neck and kissing
his lips lightly. Pulling her head away she looked out over the clearing.
Below them were the lights of Sunnydale and above the stars were shining
brightly in the clear cloudless night.
"Not as pretty as this," Spike kissed her neck, one hand gently cupping
the nape while the other delved under her shirt to caress her back. "Or
this."
He dragged his lips down over her neck and mouthed the material covering
her breasts, his tongue teasing a nipple through the thin material of her
shirt before he sucked it into his mouth, nuzzling and biting gently. Willow
moaned lightly and buried her hands under the leather of his duster, tracing
the muscles of his back with her fingers, the nails dragging over his t-shirt.
Pushing her away he caught her shirt by the hem and lifted it over her
head, exposing her bare breasts to the cool night air. She had long since
given up wearing bras most nights, fed up of having them ripped or discarded
in the midst of passion. As he tossed the shirt aside he caught her mouth
in a gentle kiss, his tongue delving into the velvet soft depths, drawing
out her essence, tasting her. Her mouth was a delicious prelude to the
delights to come. Leaving her mouth he trailed alternate bites and kisses
down the pale column of her neck to her breasts. Moaning she leant back
against his hands that were splayed across her back, easily supporting
her weight, her hands worked their way beneath his shirt playing and teasing
his hard nipples. For a moment he pulled back and drank in her beauty.
Her skin was luminous in the soft twilight of the night, her hair took
on an incandescent blood red sheen and the green of her eyes sparkled brighter
than the stars. She was truly his goddess.
Growling he lunged forward and claimed her mouth, hungrily drowning
in her taste before abandoning it and lowering his greedy mouth to her
breasts. She peppered kisses over the back of the cool flesh of his neck.
One hand slipped down to his jeans, deftly undoing them and pushing into
the depths, her fingers circling his throbbing cock, her thumb rubbing
it's soft skin. Involuntarily he thrust up into her hand and his own hands
pulled her closer to his hungry mouth and cool body. His tongue traced
circles on her warm naked flesh as he worked his way back up to her shoulder,
sucking and nipping at the delicate skin. His hands followed the long lines
of her legs, down to her ankles and yanked her shoes off, letting them
drop silently to the ground. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him
up to her demanding and delicious mouth, her tongue delving into his cool
mouth teasing his. So lost was he in her mouth and dancing tongue he was
surprised when she broke away and yanked his t-shirt off. Hadn't he been
wearing his duster? Glancing around he didn't even have time to register
that she had pushed it off and it covered the handlebars, instead her glorious
soft lips pressing against his arrested his attention, her tongue slowly
driving him insane.
Actually it was more likely the fact that she had moved up, her thighs
straddling his, her jean covered crotch thrusting against him. With every
thrust she ground down on him, the crutch of her jeans growing steamy with
her moisture and heat. She pressed herself against him, the naked skin
of their chests touching, creating delightful friction with each sway of
their bodies, her hands kneaded at the muscles in his back and shoulders.
Growling low in his throat his hands snaked around her ass and picked her
up, swinging his leg over the bike he stood them up. Breaking the kiss
he smiled softly at her flustered cheeks and kiss-swollen lips.
"You are so very beautiful," he whispered brushing back the wisps of
red hair that framed her face. Stepping back he pulled off his boots and
hooked his hand in the waistband of her jeans. "Come here."
She needed no encouragement to step back into his arms, to meet his
lips in a soft questing kiss. Sighing she pushed her hand into his jeans,
stroking his cock. It always amazed her how hard he was and yet the skin
was soft like velvet. He moaned into her mouth as her fingers sent a tantalizing
warmth through him, his own fingers pulled at the fly of her jeans, making
easy work of it. Breaking the kiss he left a trail of bites and kisses
down to her navel, dropping to his knees to pull down her jeans and worship
her.
"Willow," he moaned as his tongue teased her moist curls and dipped
between her thighs. His hands gripped her ass, holding her to his mouth
as he kissed her, his tongue eagerly delving into her slick warmth and
drawing out her essence. His nose brushed against her clit.
Her hands held onto his hair as she gasped, his tongue moving up to
twirl around her clit, his teeth grazing it lightly. She smiled as she
rolled her head back and let out a soft moan. He always did this, revelled
in her body, there wasn't a single millimetre of her that he hadn't kissed,
licked, bitten, penetrated or sucked. He was always so reverent of her.
He was a bundle of contradictions, a cold-blooded killer who was tender,
gentle and so very tactile when he was with her - as such she hadn't know
him to be any other type of lover - he was even more tender than Oz had
ever been
Her hands tightened in his hair as two of his fingers thrust deep into
her, sucking her clit while withdrawing them, licking as he thrust into
her. He was not only blowing her body but her mind, those sensations that
he created with his mouth and fingers, they were the only things she could
think about. Gasping her legs started to tremble and he tilted his fingers
deep inside her pushing against her g-spot. Her body froze for the briefest
of moments before her muscles spasmed and she cried out as she came. Working
her through her orgasm he continued to stroke her with his fingers, his
tongue gently lapping at the juices that flowed, his other hand holding
her steady. Reluctantly he withdrew his fingers, he loved hearing her cry
out, screaming his name or just the general sounds of pleasure she made.
Slowly, his hands still supporting her he kissed his way back up to her
hungry mouth. Her hands were pulling at him, tugging at the unwanted jeans,
trying to drag them down.
"Damn it," she swore tearing her mouth away and turning them about so
she could tug at the offending item of clothing. Spike gave a snort of
laughter, which ended in "oomph" as Willow's hand on his chest pushed him
back down onto the seat of the bike. She tugged his jeans free and ended
up kneeling before him. Smiling she arched one of her perfect eyebrows
at him before running her hands along his naked legs and her tongue along
the seam of his balls and the underside of his cock.
Closing his eyes briefly he took an unnecessary breath and swallowed.
Her tongue swirled about the tip of his cock, making him groan, her finger
massaged his balls while the other hand encircled the base of his cock,
her thumb teasingly rubbing along the underside. With a final lick of her
tongue she placed a soft wet kiss on the tip before slipping it between
her moist warm lips. Spike hissed in pleasure, his hands entwining in her
flaming red hair. She slowly worked her way down his shaft, alternately
licking and sucking him deeper into her mouth, as her lips brushed against
her hand wrapped around the base she sucked hard and raised her head, her
tongue zigzagging along the underside. Spike grunted and rolled his head
forward to watch as she once more lowered her mouth on him. As her head
bobbed up and down he lost himself in the sensations of her hot wet mouth,
sucking him, licking him, occasionally her teeth would brush against the
sensitive flesh.
Snarling he tore her away from his cock and pulled her up to him, kissing
her hard and dragging her forward onto him. Swinging them around he straddled
the bike again, pulling her with him, so that he could lean back. Smiling
Willow broke the kiss and placed her hands on his chest, levering herself
up. His hands guided her back down onto his throbbing cock and he grunted
in pleasure as her muscles tightened about him. Holding onto her hips he
began to thrust up into her, a low moan or grunt accompanying every thrust.
One of his hands snuck up to caress her flat stomach, the muscles moving
under his hand as she continued to ride him, and then up to her pert breasts,
flushed and full from excitement her nipples painfully hard. Sitting up
he lowered his head to catch one of those nipples, sucking it, his tongue
lashing out at it in a mimic of his thrusts.
Willow clutched at him, one hair clawing at his back while the other
tangled in his hair. Her head fell forward and she kissed his nape and
shoulder, her tongue tracing erratic patterns across the smooth flesh.
As she felt his teeth bruise her nipple she cried out and ground herself
hard against him. He moaned against her breast and released it to lean
back again, his hands back on her hips bringing her down hard against his
thrusts. All too soon he felt the familiar white heat burning through his
balls and his fingers delved between Willow's legs to stroke her clit,
pushing her into an orgasm, which he soon followed with his own.
Gasping for breath Willow fell forward onto his chest, her arms snaking
about his neck, her lips pressing several sweet and short kisses onto the
skin she came in contact with. It was only then that he noticed the bike
was swaying gently. Grinning to himself he thanked a god he didn't believe
in for small mercies that the bike hadn't actually overbalanced and made
a mental note never again to fuck on it. But what a wonderful way to christen
his new toy.
"So much for an early night," whispered Willow against his chest. She
snuggled against him as his arms circled her, holding her to him. His laugh
rumbled through his chest, his lips caressed her hair.
"We'll make it an early morning, love."
"Mmm," mumbled Willow already giving into the darkness of sleep in the
safety of his arms. Spike tilted his head and looked down at her exhausted
form.
"Sleep, pet," he knew she was exhausted, although he did find it ironic
that she was the one who fell straight asleep after sex lately. Shifting
slightly he winced at the uncomfortable position and bought his legs up
to rest on the back of bike, gently rearranging her body against his. This
was the time he cherished. Having her completely to himself, naked and
wrapped up in his arms where she belonged. Smiling to himself he brushed
the silky strands of her hair and marvelled in the feel of her warmth against
him.
***
"Come on, love, time to go," Spike called to her.
"Hmm?" Willow lifted her head from his shoulder and looked around. They
were still up in the clearing in the hills, Sunnydale was spread out beneath
them, but she was dressed and lying on top of him, leaning against the
bike. She sat up surprised and looked down at herself. "Wasn't I just naked?"
"Yeah, but the mosquitoes discovered you. I don't want anything biting
you but me," Spike said, stretching his legs out. In truth she had been
asleep for hours, so soundly that she hadn't even stirred when he dressed
her and moved them down to the ground. "Ready to go then?"
Willow nodded mutely and shivered slightly in the cool early morning
air. Spike shrugged off his duster and wrapped her up in it. Climbing onto
the bike he held out his hand to her, guiding her behind him. Turning the
motor over he headed back into town. On the back of the bike Willow rested
her head against him vaguely aware that they had done a full circle of
the town and were now riding through the empty streets of a very familiar
neighbourhood. She wracked her brain, trying to figure out what was so
familiar, until Spike stopped the bike. Glancing about she realised they
were in Crawford Street. In front of the mansion.
Willow shifted uncomfortably behind him. All his muscles had tensed
beneath her hands, she could feel them tightening and flexing. She looked
about the darken street, she could clearly see his profile as he stared
at the dark bulk of the mansion. "Spike?"
He didn't answer, just continued to stare at the shadow-covered shape.
She smoothed her hands over his chest, trying to soothe him, if anything
he just coiled tighter.
"Spike?" still he remained silent. Biting her bottom lip she looked
up at the dark bulk of the mansion. "Why are we at Angel's old place?"
Spike turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. Slowly he turned back
to the mansion, gunned the engine and took off up the gravel driveway.
The bike skidded to a halt outside the main door, which had been boarded
up. Killing the engine Spike swung his leg over the front of the bike and
got off, walking toward the boarded door. Willow shivered, gathering his
duster tighter about her, she slipped off the bike and stood to watch him.
Without a moments hesitation he kicked through the boarded doorway and
disappeared into the mansions murky depth. Even with the warmth of his
coat Willow shivered. She hadn't been to the mansion since Angel was sick.
She had no idea what Spike was doing, for a moment she stood there, hesitating
before sighing and walking up the steps, following him into the darkness.
Cautiously she stepped inside, the floor beneath her feet was littered
with splintered wood from where Spike had kicked his way in. But as she
walked deeper into the gloom and her eyes adjusted she saw that a heavy
film of dust and cobwebs covered practically everything. Of course no one
had been here since Angel left, so it was to be expected that the place
would be dusty. Sighing she scanned the area she was standing in, the massive
fireplace was the dominant feature, there was no sign of Spike. Walking
further into the gloom she turned around, wondering what he was playing
at.
"Spike?" she called out, her voice bouncing off the walls and reverberating
around the empty mansion. Sighing she turned around again and screamed.
It was Spike standing directly in front of her. She slapped him on the
arm. "What are you doing? You scared me. Come on, Spike, I'm tired can't
we go home?"
He stared at her, his usually bright eyes were dull, his face devoid
of all emotion. Swallowing she reached out and took his hand, giving him
a half smile. "Spike?"
He glanced away from her briefly, his jaw clenched, and suddenly with
a growl he swept her up in his arms.
"Spike!" Willow screamed out, batting at his chest. "What are you playing
at? I want to go home!"
He paused to look at her momentarily, his eyes flashing gold before
he spun them around as if getting his bearings of the mansion.
"We are home," he all but growled at her. She threw her arms about his
neck, almost frightened he was going to drop her. For a moment she thought
he was going to head into Angel's old room that led off the lounge room,
instead he headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. At the top
of the stairs he walked toward huge double doors that hid a room. With
the same determination and force he used with the front doors he swung
out his leg and kicked them open to reveal the master bedroom. A master
bedroom that was dominated by a huge bed littered with pillows, covered
by a heavy brocade bedspread. Spike set Willow down on her feet at the
foot of the bed, reaching out he pulled off the bedspread to reveal deep
rich purple silk sheets.
Willow glanced about, the whole room screamed of wealth and power, it
was like a kings rooms, an emperors...a masters. Further thoughts were
disrupted as Spike pushed the duster down her arms, letting it pool at
her feet. Opening her mouth to protest she was caught off guard as his
mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue demanding a response, dominating
her mouth. She moaned as his hands pulled her body hard against his, his
fingers began to pull at her shirt and somewhere through her passion fogged
mind she heard the sound of material ripping. Pulling her mouth away from
his she looked down at herself shocked to find her shirt lying in tatters
on the floor. His soon joined it, as did his boots and jeans.
"Spike, what..." her question was cut off as Spike claimed her mouth
again, his fingers tugging at her jeans, pulling them down effortlessly.
Those fingers that were so deft in undressing her were soon trailing over
her body, leaving a burning need. He pushed her backwards onto the bed,
crawling over her body, his mouth and tongue setting her on fire. Suddenly
he flipped her over, pulling her hips up off the bed and squeezing her
ass between his hands. With a harsh grunt he pulled her back onto his cock
and set a fast pace, thrusting hard and deep into her. Willow pushed her
hands against the headboard, trying to stop herself from being slammed
into the heavily carved wood. To stop from being hurt she began to push
back, meeting him thrust for thrust. His fingers found her clit and twisted
it painfully, causing her to scream as she came. Such was the shock and
force of that orgasm she dropped her hands and head down onto the bed.
Gasping for breath, she pushed at her sweaty hair, trying to lever herself
up onto her arms, only to be restrained by Spike's hand on her back. Moaning
she stayed down while he kept thrusting against her. She twisted her fists
in the heavy silk sheets, silently wondering what was going on with him.
Then his weight and hands were lifted off her and he pulled out of her
with a sickening plop. Unsure of what to do Willow stayed still, her whole
body trembling from pleasure and to a certain degree fear.
His hands grabbed her hips again, twisting her onto her back, one arm
snaking under her leg, cupping the knee in his elbow and lifting it up.
Hesitantly Willow wrapped her other leg about his waist and her arms about
his back, her fingers softly tracing the tense muscles.
"Spike," she whispered. He paused for a moment and looked at her flushed
face. His jaw clenched and he wrapped his free hand in her hair, lifting
her head up to demand a brutal kiss from her as he thrust forward, deep
into her warmth. He continued to slam into her, his arm lifting her leg
so that her knee soon rested on his shoulder, her calf and foot dangling
over his back. Tearing her mouth away from his she arched her back, her
arms and legs wrapping tightly around him, pulling him impossibly closer.
As he continued to pound into her, she began shake, her nails digging into
his flesh and she screamed his name.
"That's it baby, scream for me," he hissed continuing his assault on
her. Willow looked up to meet his golden eyes, anger and pain radiating
from them. Loosening her grip on his back she bought her hand up to caress
his face before burying it in his short hair and pulling his mouth down
for a kiss. Still he drove deep and hard into her and she soon found herself
arching up into him, her body sleek with sweat. As her hands clawed at
his back again, he snarled, his demon came to the fore and he buried his
face in the curve of her neck his fangs slicing into the pale flesh easily.
Willow screamed out in pain and pleasure as the act pushed her into another
climax her body slamming hard against his, her leg dropping from his shoulder.
He shuddered against her, his hips jerking roughly as he came, his own
screams of agony combining with hers.
Willow shook beneath him, her cries being drowned by his, as she listened
to him she realised his fangs were still buried in her neck and his arms
were practically crushing her body to him. But because of the pain of the
chip he had frozen, he couldn't let go.
"Spike," she whispered, her fingers stroking his hair, calming him,
soothing him. She rocked her body against his, trying to release the knots
of agony that wracked both their bodies. If she could calm him down he
would release her and both their pain would stop. "Shhh, Spike, it's okay."
She started to whisper nonsense words of comfort, her hands caressing
his tense body, soothing him, calming him, trying to help ease the blinding
pain he was in. Finally she felt his fangs retract from her neck, his tongue
licking at the sweet blood, offering some relief to the blinding agony
that resulted from his bite. His arms released some of their pressure but
still held her. Together they rocked locked in each other's arms. Eventually
his whimpers of pain turned to soft purrs and lulled them both to sleep.