~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Stupid Oz..” muttered the red head, quickly and efficiently getting the
supplies ready.
Ever since he’d left, Willow had had an empty hole inside
her. It was
black,
bottomless and sucked all her energy into it. She didn’t
have the energy
to
even go to class. She spent most of her day in one of
Oz's old band
shirts
listening to Dingoes tapes and alternately not eating
a thing and
devouring
entire tubs of Ben and Jerry's in a sitting.
To sum it all up, Willow Rosenberg felt like crap. And
it was all Oz’s
fault.
And that slut, Veruca, thought the red head bitterly.
Her Oz, the Oz she loved beyond anything she’d ever thought
possible,
had
left her. He’d said that he needed to reconcile the wolf
in him. That he
was
afraid that he’d hurt her. The wolf in him was the problem,
Willow had
decided. It had felt a connection with Veruca, because
she was the same.
Which brought Willow to the spell she was about to perform.
It was
called
‘Summoning the Beast’. It allowed for the caster to invite
the ‘Beast’
into
their body for a night. It was almost the same thing
as being a
werewolf,
but without the actual physical transformation and the
extreme Jerry
Garcia
look.
The spell also helped the caster locate their mate. No
one could be her
mate
but Oz, right. She would finally find the stupid werewolf
and show him
exactly who he belonged to.
She was all set.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everything in Willow was alive again. Her senses seemed
magnified by
infinity. Her every nerve tingled. She could hear the
leaves rustle on
every
tree. New and exotic scents invaded her being.
She had never felt such hunger. Hunger for everything.
Food. Sex. Name
an
animal urge and she had it.
She inhaled all the delicious new smells and relished
the sensation.
Willow
ran her hands down the sensitized skin of her arms and
shivered. She'd
better find Oz soon.
She prowled around the park. There was no other way to
describe what the
red
head was doing. Every now and then she’d stop for a minute,
tilt her
head
back, and take in a deep breath, before moving on, usually
in another
direction.
Spike had been watching her for the last little while,
wondering if he
little witch had flipped. So he decided to find out.
“Taking a little midnight stroll, pet?” he asked her,
stepping out from
the
shadows of the trees. Hearing a voice behind her, she
spun around. Her
eyes
widened.
Him. She had to have him. Every instinct she had was screaming
for her
to
throw Spike to the ground and ride him until he cried
for mercy.
"Having a little trouble with the witty banter, pet?"
he asked, waving
his
hand in front of her slightly glazed eyes. Usually she
was the smartest
being the bloody Scooby Gang had to offer, what the hell
was wrong with
her?
She looked almost feral. Suddenly the smell of her arousal
spiraled
towards
him. "Cat got your- ooof!"
His smart-ass remark was cut short as she gripped the
back of his head
and
kissed him mercilessly. If he had breath, it would have
been stolen by
the
fierce possesiveness of her lips. Her tongue plundered
the cool ridges
of
his mouth, making him groan with it's warm invasion.
He gripped her shoulders and shoved her back. She growled.
Did she just growl? Spike's addled brain asked. Okay, Spikey boy, do the
math. Horny Slayerette. I can smell her from here! Wants
you bad - good
God!
Why didn't I notice those before? - Touch her and the
Slayer serves you
your
testes in a nice Bernaise sauce. Sweet bleeding Christ,
what is she
doing
with her tongue?
Spike's brain functions ceased as Willow seized his mouth
again. She
shoved
his duster from his shoulder and began backing him into
the bushes. The
heady scent of her arousal wrapped its way around his
mind and wouldn't
let
him go.
His tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her head
back gently,
giving
him better access. Their tongues duelled for dominance.
Her hands snaked
down his body and found his quickly growing bulge. He
moaned. He had
never
wanted anyone so badly. Not Dru. Not Harmony.Not anyone.
They were cold as the grave while this one was on fire.
Hell, this girl
was
fire. Being with her just felt right.
Suddenly an image of a very pissed off Slayer standing
over a little,
itty bitty pile of
ashes that used to by Spike, flashed into his mind.
"Now, Willow, luv, let's think this through,' he panted.
She licked a
fiery
trail from his jaw to his ear. "Ohhhh, where'd you learn
that?"
"Spike, no thinking," she growled. "Fuck me."
He moaned into her mouth as her words washed over him.
she eased his
zipper
down and freed his cock. She gently scraped her nails
along his length.
He
gasped.
Her hand left him and he grunted in protest. She swept
his legs,
knocking
him back on the ground.
"Ooof," he gasped. "Cheeky littl-"
She stopped his mouth again, filling his mouth with her
tongue. She
ground
her jean-clad crotch against his erection. He grunted,
pulling her even
closer. His hands found her breasts. He teased her already
budding
nipples
into hard peaks. His thumbs crooked into the collar of
her shirt. He
ripped
it apart, sending the buttons flying.
"Oww!" he cried as a button hit his eye. She tore his
t-shirt at the
neck,
stripping it from his lean pale body. He grinned. He
liked this new
Willow,
he liked her very much.
He shoved her jeans from her hips, surprised and pleased
to find she
wasn't
wearing any panties over that lovely little ass. He cupped
her pale
cheeks
in his hands, slipping a finger into her dripping wet
core. She cried
out,
bucking back against his palm.
He grinned again against her lips. He rolled her over,
pulled her hips
back
against him.
"You want it, pet?" he asked. She moaned and nodded blindly.
His palms
cupped her breasts, forcing her back into him.
"Say it," he purred into her neck. She growled, turning
against him and
throwing him back. She straddled his hips, hovering over
him.
"Mine," she stated, licking her lips.
"Yours," he nodded, pulling at her hips. She lunged down,
letting her
liquid
heat envelope him. He cried out, thrusting up. She rode
him slowly at
first, building an achingly drawn out pace to a full
frenzy.
He pulled her down to him, bathing her face in kisses.
His lips traveled
the
length of her neck until he found the pulse-point. He
gently broke the
skin
with his burgeoning fangs and drank of her.
She twisted her fingers in his hair, pressing his face against her neck.
This was right. This was her mate. Her true mate.
"WILLOW!" he shouted as his orgasm rocked through him.
His cold seed
flowed
into her as her twitching muscles milked him. She quickly
followed him
over
the edge, as if she were falling into a endless well
of soft black
darkness,
with Spike's arms as her only anchor.
"Mine," he growled.
"Yours," she nodded, sated and sleepy.
He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head against his neck.
As he drifted off to sleep one thought bounced through
his brain. (Cor,
this
should prove interesting.)
END (?)