SERIES: Choices #16

AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@m...

POV: Spike, this time!!!

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There's no fucking way. It just can't be possible. Yet, there it is. My bloody ponce of a Sire has somehow decided that he's all ga-ga for Red's ex! And apparently the chit finds the great pouf equally attractive, which is just *wrong*, because isn't she supposed to be *gay*? I mean, she's a great bloody lesbian, right? *Right*.

Then again, so was my Red, for a while, there. Didn't last, though, and I gotta admit, that knowledge just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. My girl threw off her girlfriend, and all because she wanted *me*.

So the pouf and the witch. It's funny to watch. The little blonde chit showed up here almost a week ago, and I was a bit pissed off at first. I mean, she was such a bitch to Red back in Sunnyhell after their whole break up and all. I wondered why in the bloody blue hell she would have come to LA, you know?

Turns out, she'd done some talking with the demon girl, and Anya'd made her understand that my Will was only following her heart. Yet another thing that makes me feel all manly.

So when Red called and asked Anya to send our stuff from the house, Tara decided it was a perfect chance to make peace with her ex, and...

She's been here for five days now, and at first I was worried that she really *did* want my girl, but then Red pointed out the way she and Poufy the Great kept looking at each other, and... Even if the girl *did* come here planning on stealing Willow's heart, her goal's definitely changed.

It's fucking hilarious, is what it is. My Sire and my Mate's ex. It's like something I'd only expect to see on Passions, y'know? Bloody Angel with his jutting caveman brow, prowling about this cavernous hotel, trying to act like he's *not* all hot and bothered by the little blonde girl, and wait! I get it now! It's got to be a blonde thing.

I mean, think about it. Darla. The Slayer-that-was. And now Tara. Bloody pouf's got a thing for blondes; almost makes me wish I'd never bleached my hair. The very thought is sickening.

But the little witch is no Darla, and she's certainly not a Slayer in any sense of the word, so might could be I'm wrong about that. Doesn't make it any less funny, though.

See, poufy's trying to ignore the attraction Red and I both can see. And it's not like we're the only ones to notice, either. The ponce of a once-was Watcher, the Cheerleader, *and* the Thug all see it, too. It's bloody amusing to watch those sodding gits trying to figure it out.

Meanwhile, the witch is acting like she's going battier than Dru on a *bad* day. She mopes around, and tries to fit in, but she's so bleeding uncomfortable, she might as well be wearing a big sign that says 'Lesbian with the hots for a guy'. I almost think Tara could give my Sire a serious run for his money in the brooding event at the next olympics.

My Red, on the other hand, isn't finding all this anywhere near as amusing as I am. No, she's convinced that it's our 'job' to get Paingel and Witch-girl together; I guess she just wants to see her ex all happy, now that *she* is. It's a good, sweet thought, but...

Do we really *want* Angel to be happy? I mean, I remember what he was like the *last* time he got his peasant-y 'groove' on, and I'll go to hell myself before I'll let that happen again. Angelus with a mad on is *not* an experience I'm dying to repeat, and no, I'm *not* making with the puns, here.

Still, he's my Sire, and much as I hate to admit it-- even to myself-- I suppose I care for him in a way. I don't think it's fair that he has to spend eternity alone, never getting any closer to anyone than he is to his 'friends'. I guess it doesn't matter what *I* think, though. I'm not the one who cursed him, after all.

But maybe I'll talk to Red, and actually *listen* to her this time. Might be there's some spell or something that could help. Yeah. I'll talk to my Mate.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was right to wait until *after* the sex to bring up the subject, because if the way she's looking at me now means anything, I'm gonna be getting shagged again, and royally this time. Still, I suppose I should at least try to deserve my reward, so "Maybe we can lock them in the basement until they give in to what they want?" I say, and the slightly wicked look in her eyes is yet another bit of proof that Willow is exactly the right girl for me. Good thing, too, because I'm fairly sure it'd be too late if I decided otherwise now.

But she's smiling, and I can hear her heart racing, and I already know what she's going to say, but I want to hear it, so I just arch one brow at her and smirk.

Her eyes roll, and she tightens the arm that's laying across my waist. "Why don't we try sending them out for dinner first?" she asks, her lips so close to my skin that I can feel them moving, "Or maybe to Lorne's club? I mean, if they're meant to be..."

I'm almost certain that her voice trailed off like that because of the low growl that's suddenly building in my chest. I can't help it, though. That poncy, green-skinned bastard just... chaps my ass.

Peaches took us to that 'club' he likes so much one night, right after Red and I Mated, and that prat of an empathy-demon had his bloody glowing red eyes on my girl the entire time! And I *know* she's a fucking masterpiece-- almost enough to make me believe that God's an artist-- but she's *my* masterpiece, damn it! It was only my Sire's clear statement that he wanted his 'friend' to stay amongst the living that kept bloody Lorne from being *Bloody* Lorne. We haven't gone back there since.

I think my Will knows how I felt-- Hell, I'm *sure* of it!-- because it's never even been mentioned since. That's why I hate it so much that she said his name here, in our bed. I know she isn't having any 'thoughts' about the Kermit-esque Liberace impersonator, but I'll be damned if I like being reminded of the way the git was looking at her. Still... "I kind of like the basement idea better, pet," I say, and I'm proud of the fact that I'm not all vamp-faced.

So she snuggles closer, and I can sense just how much she really does love me, and even after months of knowing, it still floors me. "Let's try sending them to dinner first, okay?" she says, and I know she's serious, even though she's also teasing me. "If it doesn't work, *then* we'll try the basement."

I can't help but laugh at that, because I can tell she means it, and I'm wondering-- once again-- whether whatever bond she created between us is changing her too much. Time was, my sweet Will would never even *consider* such a thing. On the other hand, the more familiar she becomes with the inner working of the demon I am, the easier it'll be for her soul to manage after I turn her. So, I guess it might be a good thing. I *like* her wicked side-- I always knew she had one; now I'm getting to know it. Intimately. "Fine," I tell her, pouting just a little.

She likes it when I pout. Gives her the opportunity to make the expression go away, just like she's doing now. Her fingers trail lightly up my chest, and I gasp a sharp breath when she twists my nipple. Her teeth are busy with the mate of the first, and suddenly my own fingers are hard in her hair, and I know I'll never get tired of having her touch me. I almost can't wait to turn her, but I know I'll miss her warmth when I do.

That same warmth-- all over her, but right at the moment, it's her mouth I'm paying attention to-- is enough to make me crazy, and she knows it. She's licking at my chest, moving back and forth, from side to side, and damned if I'm not whimpering, but who could blame me? I suppose I should actually *thank* Tara for giving my girl so much practice, but that'll never happen. Don't want to get the little blonde-witch reminiscing about the 'good-old-days', after all.

Her lips are soft, and moist, and my god, the things she does to my belly-button alone are probably illegal in most states, but I'm not gonna tell, and when she slides even further down my body, and I feel her hot breath gusting out into those short, dark curls she seems to love so much? I'm hopeless.

I cry out when she takes me in her mouth, and I know Peaches can hear me, but I honestly don't care. He's my Sire. He's heard me many a time before; Hell, there was a time when *he* was the one making me grunt and moan. I'm glad those days are gone, although... there's still a little, tiny, almost non-existent part of me-- deep down; *very* deep down-- that misses him. Not the sex, of course, but the feeling that he was pleased with me. That he was glad-- for even a few fleeting moments-- that he'd pulled me from Dru and made me himself. But I can't really think about that now, because my Mate is amazing!

Her sweet, soft lips are tight around my cock, and her hands are hard on my hips, her fingers slightly under me and flexing against my skin, and she's well aware of just how much suction I want and need, and my back is arching hard against our bed, and Jesus-fucking-Christ! Her teeth are scraping ever so lightly against that big vein, and it's too much! And now she's moaning, with my shaft deep in her throat, and *fuck*!

I know I don't actually *have* to breathe, but damned if I'm not gulping in great lungfuls of air. Those desperate breaths come even faster when she releases my spent cock and crawls up my body.

Her eyes are nearly glowing with passion, and I can see one small drop of my seed at the corner of her mouth, and I really hope her Gods actually exist, because she's gonna need their help to stay conscious through what's about to happen.

My own eyes are turning gold now, but I can't seem to help it, and when she's finally high enough up on my chest, I lean down-- faster than she can see-- and lick that drop from her mouth before fastening my lips tightly to hers and delving deep into her mouth with my tongue. She tastes of me at the moment, and if I weren't hard again already, I'd probably be rumbling with contentment, but that'll come later. Still, I'm in no mood for any extended bouts of foreplay, and from the smell of her, neither is she, so I roll us quickly, and dive right in.

It still surprises me that she's so bloody tight, even after all the times we've done this. But she is; it's like being gripped in a fucking vise, and just knowing that I get to feel this-- feel *her*-- forever, is... incredible. Not as incredible as this moment, though, because she's got one leg around my waist, and the other is somehow up near my shoulder blade, and her fingers are hard against my scalp, her short nails digging in, and when I feel them pierce my skin? I can't help but pull my lips from hers and dive at my mark on her neck.

My teeth slip in, and it's like coming home, but I suppose that's because that's exactly what this is. She's 'home' for me. But home comes with a price.

Fortunately, it's a cost I don't mind. What's a little blood, after all, especially between Mates? And honestly, I enjoy it when she bites me. No more slow slices at my own throat for her; no, she's decided that she likes tasting me in the same way I do her. With teeth, and tongue, and slow, tender swallows. Not that there isn't the occasional wild feeding, because we *both* enjoy that from time to time, but usually we're like we are now, and when I finally pull my fangs from her skin, she sighs almost disappointedly, but she stops drinking me, as well.

Her hips are rocking harder now, and she's tightening rhythmically around me, and I can feel the very tip of my cock slamming hard against her womb as she goads me into moving faster... harder... more viciously within her. Her small shrieks and whimpers are music to my ears; a salving balm to the demon-y parts of me, and they're answered by my own growls and moans, and it's only moments before I feel the tension gathered tight at the base of my spine. I have to hold back, though. My girl isn't quite there yet, and I want her to be! I want to feel her exploding beneath me; hear her screaming my name.

Finally, she does, and that's it for me. She's even tighter when she cums. Almost tight enough to force me from her perfect cunt, and if it weren't for this vampiric strength, she probably would. But I pull back from her almost completely, and thrust deep and hard once, twice, three times, before that tension bursts from me, and my back arches hard as I pump her full of me.
 

I can't believe I bloody well collapsed on her, but she doesn't seem to mind, and I guess her Gods really *do* exist, because she's rubbing my back, and licking the bite she gave me, and if she's not bloody careful, she'll be getting the same again, and much sooner than she might think. She apparently knows that, though, because her legs finally slide to the bed, but she makes no move to push me from her, and that's just fine with me. I love her, and I love being inside her, even now, with the urgency gone for the moment.

Of course, I guess I'm actually gonna have to try to get Poufy and Witch-girl together now, but... I guess it's worth it. Hell, I *know* it is!

"So, pet," I finally say, murmuring against her skin, "How do we get them to dinner, then?" I chuckle softly when she suddenly stills beneath me. "Or hadn't you thought that far ahead, luv?"

End

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