Chapter 19

The days flew by in a blur for Elizabeth until the day of the Duke of Sevring’s ball arrived – her formal coming out.  She’d yet to really speak with her guardian and wasn’t quite sure where she stood with him.  Whispered rumors continued to abound about the Earl’s marriage, speculation as to the identity of his intended rushed through the ton like wildfire. But as yet, no name had been forthcoming.   

It didn’t help matters that the Earl was tightlipped about the subject and any questions directed his way were met with a glare and a growl. 

Elizabeth just found her melancholy growing, only relieved somewhat when the Earl continued his nocturnal visits.  Since that time he’d been so rough with her, she had noticed a subtle change in his persona, and a bright blush stained her cheeks as the more graphic stunts of his sometimes near-savage lovemaking flashed before her eyes.  It was a wonder she could even move afterwards during one of his more aggressive sessions. 

The nicks and cuts on her flesh were a testament to the violence he sometimes exhibited, but just seemed to heighten their encounter. Yet, when she woke on the morrow, the cuts had faded, leaving no sign of the minor injuries.  Puzzling… 

Added to the fact that he practically ignored her existence during the day…well, her emotions were strung tight, just waiting to explode. 

Now, as she reclined in her chair in the sitting room in the late afternoon hours, her chaperone having retired for a light nap – of which she’d advised her charge to take – Elizabeth stared at the book perched on her lap, staring unseen at the text.  A sudden movement at the door caused her to look up, and she came to her feet as the Viscount walked into the room. 

“Lord Doyle,” she greeted, sinking into a graceful curtsey.   

“Lady Summers,” he replied, affecting a quick bow.  “I didn’t realize someone was in here.  Shouldn’t you be resting for tonight’s ball?  Don’t want to fall asleep mid-waltz, do you?” 

Elizabeth sank back onto her chair, discarding the book she held in her hand on a side table.   

“I am…it’s just, I was reading for a bit first.” 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No… it’s just…nothing.  Never mind.  I’m sorry to have troubled you.  I’ll retire to my room now,” she told him, coming to her feet to make her exit. 

“Elizabeth?” 

She stood poised before the door, hand on the knob to let herself out, when the Viscount called her name.  She glanced over her shoulder to gaze at the man a silent question on her delicate features. 

“Everything is going to be alright.  You’ll see…Now go get some rest, you’re going to need it for tonight.” 

She nodded, not saying anything and slipped quietly from the room. 

Doyle glanced at the closed door and sighed.  Not telling Elizabeth about her forthcoming nuptials had been Spike’s idea.  Personally, he thought they should have told her before now.  Just looking at her, you could tell she was unhappy.  Having her subjected to the speculative gossip about her guardian’s marriage had left a strain on her.  Her features were drawn and there was a resigned air about her that didn’t sit well with the half-breed. 

He knew the vampire’s waiting to tell the chit was going to bite him in the ass, but he’d gone along with the other’s plan.  

~*~*~*~*~ 

Elizabeth slipped inside her room and leaned against the closed door, a dejected sigh escaping her slightly parted lips. 

“What’s the matter, kitten?” 

She nearly jumped out of her skin as his words floated to her.  Her eyes widened to comical proportions as she took in the reclined form of her guardian spread out on top of her bedcovers wearing nothing more than a pair of breeches.  A hand fluttered over her chest as if to calm her racing heart. 

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, shocked beyond all reason that he’d presented himself in her room in broad daylight, uttering the question in her head. 

She knew she’d made a mistake when his eyes narrowed and a frown appeared and she rushed to placate him. 

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to question you…it’s just that…well, you’ve never come here during the day.” 

He crooked his finger at her, beckoning her forward.  “C’mere,” he whispered huskily.  His features had taken on a predatory look, eyes filling with lust as she walked towards him. 

When she stopped before the bed, he lifted his hand using his pointer finger to gesture in a circle for her to turn around.  Elizabeth did as he asked, presenting her back to him, and moments later she heard a rustle of movement then cool fingers at the nape of her neck. 

Her breath left her in a sigh as she felt the gown’s fastenings give way and become more lax on her frame before it slid down her body to pool at her feet.  Then the stays of corset loosened until it, too, fell to the floor in a soundless heap.  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she felt his gaze roam over her, clad in only her undergarments.  She felt him stand behind her and then she was moving as he guided her towards the end of the bed. 

Spike sat at the foot of the bed and pulled her back towards him.  Before them, the mirror reflected her shock and arousal as he slowly divested the slayer of her undergarments.  With her back still to him, he stroked his fingers along her spine, chuckling softly as she arched her body and shuddered at his touch.  She was a vision, reflected in the mirror, her hair thrown back and cascading down her slim back nearly to her waist. 

His hands appeared nonexistent as he fondled her breast, flicking and tweaking her nipples while cupping her breasts.  One hand stopped kneading her plump breast to travel along the imaginary line down the middle of her body towards the dark curls that protected her mound.  Cool fingers ghosted a path along her slip and she unconsciously widened her stance before him to allow him better access.  He chuckled softly, pleased by her boldness. 

His eyes watched her in the mirror as he slipped one finger past her folds and into her wet chasm, pumping his digit in and out in a lazy pace.  She bit her bottom lip to keep from shouting her pleasure to the world. 

“Open your eyes, luv,” he whispered at her side, his hands never stopping the delicious dual torment to her breast and pussy. 

He watched as they fluttered open, noticed the glazed look as she stared unseeing.  Couldn’t have that. 

“Look at the mirror, pet.  Watch what my hands do to you.  See the pleasure only I can give you,” he coaxed. 

Elizabeth did as he asked and focused on the mirror. 

Was that her? 

Dear God!  What was he doing to her?  She looked…she couldn’t quite put in to words what she looked like.  Flushed face, heavy-lidded eyes, mouth open agape.  Was that even her?   

She tried to squirm away from his invisible touch, but he held her tight, sensing her resistance.  Another finger joined the first inside her and her feeble protests halted as she concentrated on the new sensations flooding her womb.  Her hips moved in tandem with his fingers sliding in and out of her core till she felt her legs start to give way. 

He was there to catch her.  Standing behind her and holding her fevered body back against his bare chest.  His hand left her over-sensitized breast and she heard him fumble with the fastenings on his breeches, listened as the soft whoosh sounded indicating their flight down his slim hips.  Then, she felt his hardened length press against her lower back. 

She couldn’t believe it was daylight and they were making love like they had no care in the world.  She’d not locked her bedroom door and the thought of being discovered only increased her arousal, even if her cheeks got suddenly pinker at the thought. 

“What is it, kitten?” he whispered in her ear as he resumed his seat on the edge of the bed and pulled her down onto his lap still facing the mirror. 

“The…the door.  I didn’t lock it.  Somebody…oh God…” she gasped as she felt a third finger join the first two, stretching her even more. 

“Somebody might what?” he murmured in her ear as he bit gently on the lobe as he sucked it into his mouth, his eyes on the mirror as he watched her respond to him.  There was something very erotic about watching her by herself in the mirror, watched as her body responded so willingly to his touch. 

“Might…might…come in…” she responded breathlessly.  “Might see…” 

Although, by now, she really didn’t care.  His thumb had started to make lazy circles over her nubbin while his three fingers continued their assault, sliding in and out of her…stretching her, preparing her.  She felt his other hand slide down one of her legs, urging her to bend her knee and straddle his hips. 

His fingers slipped from her channel and before she could protest, he was filling her with his length.  His hands moved to grab her hips, guiding her movements as he taught her how to ride him, slow and deep, maximizing the sensation. 

“Watch yourself ride me…” 

Elizabeth’s eyes opened and she stared at herself bobbing up and down on the bed as if riding a horse.  Only, she’d never derived so much pleasure from that activity as she was now.  Tentatively, her hands rose to cup her bouncing breast, flicking her thumbs over her nipples as William had done. 

“That’s it.  Imagine it’s my hands on you, my lips sucking those pert nipples into my mouth…feel what it does to you.” 

“William…” 

“Yeah…I feel it.  I feel your response rain over my cock as you ride me.  Give me more.  Harder…Faster….” 

His hands showed her what he wanted, increasing her pace, until the sound of her bare ass slapping into his lap mingled with their grunt and groans. 

“That’s it, baby.  Just like that.  I’m gonna have you just like this every day.  You’ll be mine – mornin’, noon, and night.  No one to stop us…” 

“What…about…wife?” she gasped, the breath nearly knocked from her with each downward thrust on his cock. 

“You’re mine,” he snarled, sinking his fangs into her shoulder. 

Elizabeth cried out as he pierced her flesh, but the noise was swiftly cut off as his hand covered her mouth.  Her hips never stopped their frenetic pace as bit painfully into her shoulder.  She saw her blood start a trail down her chest and reacted instinctively, releasing her breast to grip his hand that covered her mouth, pulling it away before striking blindly at his forearm. 

The pain in her shoulder was becoming almost unbearable and she bit harder, her blunt teeth penetrating his skin until she tasted blood.  He released her abruptly, his hoarse shout of pleasure filling the room as she felt him fill her body with his release.  She rode him till she felt the throbbing of his cock ease, all the while sucking like a babe at his arm. 

She should be reeling at what she’d done, what she was still doing.  Drinking his blood like it was the finest of wine.  In truth, it was.  It connected her to him, made her his. 

His free arm banded around her stomach and she felt him lay his cheek against her bare back. 

“She bit me!” he thought as he tried to regroup from the most intense orgasm he’d ever felt.  He could feel her restless twitching above him and realized with embarrassment that he’d left her behind.  Like some teenage sod on his first sexual conquest he’d spilled his load without any thought to his partner. 

Even though he was evil he wasn’t selfish. 

He eased her off of his lap, pulling her away from his arm, and settled her on her back.  Pulling her towards him until her ass reached the edge, spreading her legs wide.  He could smell himself on her and he breathed in deeply before attacking her sensitive nubbin with tongue and teeth as he rammed three fingers in her weeping hole, curling so that the hit her g-spot.  Her hips bucked off the bed and her fingers fisted in his hair to hold him in place.  He alternately flicked and nipped at her clit and watched as her head thrashed from side to side on the coverlets. 

Spike grew hard once again and he surged to his feet.  He grabbed his cock, teasing her entrance with the head as he positioned himself at her opening and rammed himself home.  He gripped her hips, and he was sure that there’d be faint marks later, and thrust himself over and over into her slick passage.   

She was gorgeous, his slayer.  Her hair fanned out behind her.  Naked breasts bouncing as he drove into her.  Her fingers clutched at the sheets as she struggled to hold herself in place.  She’d bitten her lip again to stop her screams of pleasure. 

Her orgasm caught her unawares, crashing over her as she strained to get him deeper inside her.  A maelstrom of sensations gripped her body and she gave herself over to them.  But, he wouldn’t let her glide down gently.  He continued his bruising pace until a second climax twisted her body, and even then he wouldn’t stop.  It was as if he was trying to see how much pleasure her body could take before she passed out from sensory overload.   

Because she’d bitten him and thrown his world for a loop. 

Her third orgasm was mild compared to the others, but the fourth one caused her to lose consciousness.  It was only then that Spike gave in to his need to come, allowed her body to milk his release until he collapsed on top of her, his legs no longer able to support him. 

Spike listened to her breathing for a moment before finding the energy to lift himself off of her.  He slipped into his breeches and dug a hand into his pocket, pulling out the box tucked inside. 

Fucking the slayer into unconsciousness hadn’t been part of his plan when he’d uncovered the secret passage leading from his room into this one.  He’d wanted to place his ring on her finger before tonight’s ball – marking her as his for all of the ton to see.  But, when she’d slipped inside her room, he’d realized there was no way he was leaving without having another taste of her.  He wanted to see her expression as she came in broad daylight. 

And, now that he had, he wanted to see it a lot more often. 

Spike reached over and lifted the sleeping slayer into his arms and resettled her onto the pillows.  She looked so innocent in slumber, and he found himself drawn to her despite himself.  But, she wasn’t completely innocent, he reminded himself, staring at the oozing wound on his forearm. 

He still couldn’t believe that she’d bitten him.  And, hadn’t been put off by the taste of him.  Had actually seemed to enjoy herself as she lapped at his blood… 

Settling the covers around her pliant, nude form he perched his hip on the edge of her bed.  He opened the box and pulled the ring from its protective sheath.  He’d found the blood red ruby tucked away in his vault.  Creating a design on a piece of paper, he’d taken the stone and his drawing to a jeweler and commissioned him to create a betrothal ring, giving the man but a week to finish it. 

Now, as he stared at the finished product, he was pleased with the result.  Although he’d never been one for tradition, he’s managed to fashion the Aurelius symbol into the ring’s band, signaling to all that she belonged to their order even though she was human. 

He took her limp left hand and placed the ring on her finger.  The fit was perfect and he was pleased with the way it looked on her.  He leaned over and brushed his lips across her forehead, then stood and exited the room the way he’d come.

Chapter 20

Heather slipped inside her mistress’ room, pulling the curtains around her bed to shield her from the servants that bore water for her bath.  She picked up the discarded dress and undergarments that littered the floor – which in itself was unusual because her mistress was usually very tidy, even if she was rather strange for sleeping in that which God gave her. 

But, who was she to judge?  She’d been given a posh job, and had a roof over her head and food in her belly.  Her lord seemed agreeable enough, as long as you did your job and minded your business.  And, didn’t gossip.  The housekeeper had quickly explained to her that the Earl was an intensely private man and if anyone were caught gossiping to others outside their home, they would be met with a quick boot and no reference.  Something that didn’t worry Heather in the least.  She had no plans on imparting any kind of information about the lord and lady.  She liked her job. 

After the men had filed out of the room, the maid walked back over to the bed and drew back the protective curtain.  She shook her mistress awake, snickering as the girl burrowed deeper in the covers to avoid waking. 

“Come on, m’lady.  It’s time to wake up and get ready for the ball,” she coaxed. 

Elizabeth groaned deep in the coverlets.  She was having such a wonderful dream and didn’t want to wake.  But, the whining insistence of her maid proved too much and she blinked sleepily as she sat up in bed – clutching the covers tightly to her bosom when she realized she wore nothing beneath the covers. 

“I have your bath already drawn, I’ll leave you to it and will go grab you a light tray for you to snack on.” 

“Yes… thank you.” 

She heaved a sigh of relief when her maid left and quickly threw off the covers to race behind the screen, embarrassed yet again at being caught without a stitch of clothing on.  So worried about her state of undress she didn’t notice the ring on her finger until she’d settled herself into the tub, immersing her shoulders under the water. 

It was only when her hands emerged above the water as she reached for the soap that the blood red ruby winked at her.  In stark contrast to the pale skin of her fingers, the stone seemed lit from within and burned with a fire barely contained by the gem.  She stared agog, tears of happiness falling unheeded down her face to mingle with the bathwater. 

“Do you like it, pet?” he murmured from his reclined position against the wall beside her. 

The water sloshed in the tub as she turned around to gape at him.  How had he gotten in her room?  She hadn’t heard her bedroom door open or hear him walk across the room. 

He answered her unspoken question by showing her the small door in the wall that hid the secret passage to his quarters.  Tucked behind the screen, no one could see it or him, and it gave her all the impetus she needed to lunge out of the water and throw herself at him.  

Spike caught the slayer as she plastered her wet, nude body against him, peppering his face with kisses as she cried tears of joy.  He stilled her movements by gripping the back of her neck, holding her in place so he could ravage her open mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips to duel lightly with hers, and he growled when he felt her timid response.  The feel of her wet skin against his bare chest had him entertaining thoughts of burying himself deep within her body yet again.  And, her eager responses indicated she wouldn’t be adverse to more of the same. 

Hidden behind the curtain, the two lovers continued their play.  Elizabeth dropped her hands from behind his neck and fumbled with the fastenings at his breeches – made more difficult by his drugging kisses.  She tugged and pulled until finally they gave way, allowing his jutting cock to break free from its constrictive bindings.  Her fingers grasped his hardness, marveling at the silky feel in something so hard and unyielding. 

He tore his mouth from her lips and released a guttural moan, thrusting himself in her tightened grip. 

“Just like that, baby,” he murmured as he pumped himself against her hand. 

Elizabeth squeezed harder, until he groaned again, and almost released him when she thought she’d caused him pain.  His hand snaked down and wrapped around hers, holding it in place over his burgeoning shaft.   

“I’m hurting…” 

“In a good kind of way…grip me harder…ah…yeah… like that, kitten… just like that…”   

Elizabeth held his cock in her tight grasp as he released her hand to brace it on the wall.  His hips pumped forward causing her fist to slide up and down along his length until she caught on to his movements and took over.   

His hands could no longer support his weight against the wall and he was reduced to using both forearms to hold him steady, his head coming to rest on her shoulder.  Her fingers were a delicious torment to his cock, her grip tightening then loosening, her thumb occasionally brushing over his weeping head.  Spike didn’t think he could take too much more…breathed a sigh of a relief at her softly spoken request. 

“Make me yours again, William,” she urged.  She couldn’t get enough of him…could never get enough of him. 

Spike pressed her back against the wall, then slowly lifted one leg around his hip.  Positioning himself at her moist opening, he thrust deep, sheathing himself within her welcoming body.  Her other leg came up to wrap around his hip, locking herself in place, and his hands moved to cup the soft globes of her ass. 

Just then, the door to her bedroom opened and he sensed her maid entering. 

“I’ve got your tray, m’lady.  Do you need help with your bath?” 

“Answer her, pet,” Spike whispered in her ear. 

“N-no.  I’m fine.  Just set the tray on the table, and I’ll get to it when I’m finished.” 

“Yes, m’lady.  I’ll just see to your gown then.  Make sure there are no wrinkles.” 

“Fine…” 

Behind the privacy curtain, Spike thrust himself into the slayer’s wet pussy in a slow, lazy pace that was sure to drive her, and him, crazy.  But, he couldn’t afford for the servant to discover their liaison just yet.  God, he couldn’t wait until she was his in name too, so that they could lock themselves within his room for days at a time without fear of discovery.  His eyes crossed as he felt her grind her clit against his pubic bone with every surge into her core. 

He felt the slayer panting, could feel her pulse quickening as she neared her climax.  Felt her legs stiffen as her grip about his waist tightened. 

Elizabeth knew she was going to scream her release.  Realizing that it was she that was going to be his wife, had released her inhibitions, and she no longer cared if the servants knew or heard.  Her eyes strayed to his – blue that faded to amber as his body was caught up in the act.  She nodded at him to let him know she felt the same. 

“Mine,” she mouthed before she buried her face in his neck and bit him to keep from keening her pleasure out loud – and alerting the maid to their assignation – as her body convulsed around him.  Spike closed his eyes and gave himself over as her inner muscles alternately grasped and released his cock, spilling his seed deep within her womb. 

Her grip about his neck tightened until he sagged against her on the wall, his face buried in her neck.  She never wanted to let him go. 

His head finally lifted and he looked down at the dazed expression of the slayer and couldn’t help himself from placing a soft kiss upon her lips.  Then he lifted his head and urged her to release him so that he could set her back in the tub to finish her bath.  He pulled his breeches up and fastened them about his hips, kneeling beside the tub so that he could speak softly to her. 

“Finish your bath, luv.  I’ll see you in a few hours.  Oh, and wear your hair up…” he told her, brushing his lips across her brow and slipping from the room via the secret passageway. 

Elizabeth sighed happily as she leaned back against the tub’s rim, not even caring about the tepid temperature of the water.  Her skin was on fire right now anyway and could use a bit off cooling off. 

A short bit later, she called out to Heather to have the girl help her with washing her hair. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Her hair had been brushed until it was dry, and then styled to the Earl’s specifications.  Piled on top of her head, a few stray wisps were left to dangle, framing her face.  Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, Elizabeth was happy to see no trace of the melancholy that had plagued her earlier in the week.  Instead, her hazel eyes shone brightly, secure in the knowledge that she’d soon be married to her guardian.  He was probably waiting for her parents to be located to formally ask for her hand, but she refused to remove his ring from her finger.  He’d put it there, and it was there it would stay. 

She rose from the sitting chair in front of the vanity, clad in only her undergarments.  Now that her hair was complete, she could slip into the gown she would be wearing for the Duke’s ball.  Flaunting convention yet again, this gown bore the same lines as the one she wore to the Marchioness’ gathering almost two weeks ago.  The lines were simple, yet elegant, and the numerous layers of ruffles that seemed all the rage right now were absent and didn’t swallow up her petite frame.  The fitted bodice hugged her cleavage, but rather than having a plunging “v” neckline, the dress’ top dipped low, but in a straight line across her breasts. The material gathered beneath her bosom to fall in a straight line to the floor.  The pale pink color was appropriate for an unmarried girl such as herself and went well with her dark hair and slightly sun-kissed skin. 

When her maid secured the last stay, Elizabeth rose and walked towards the full-length mirror to eye the results. 

“Oh, m’lady, you look simply divine!” Heather gushed.  

Elizabeth twirled this way and that to get a better view, and she had to admit, her maid was right.  She’d outdone herself with the elaborate hairstyle, and the dress – while indecently low-cut – was a perfect complement to her tiny frame. 

“Thank you, Heather. You did a wonderful job with my hair.  I guess I should be off.  I’m sure the others are probably pacing away, waiting for me.” 

“I’ll carry your cloak down so that you can show off your dress first.” 

Elizabeth turned from the mirror and moved towards the door.  She was eager to see the Earl again, having taken great pains with her toilet to impress him.  

Male voices rose from the foot of the stairs as she paused at the top a moment to gather her skirts so that she wouldn’t trip over them on the way down.  Her eyes were cast downward as she carefully made her way to the bottom and she failed to see the lust-filled gaze directed her way.   

But she sure felt it. 

The silence of the others indicated their notice of her, and the sudden tingles that resonated from his mark had her wanting to forgo tonight’s party and race back upstairs to spend the rest of the evening in the arms of her lover.  When she finally managed to glance up as she reached the bottom of the steps, she noticed that her guardian seemed to have the same idea. 

An awkward silence descended over the small group until finally her chaperone broke in with their need to depart. 

Spike gazed at the slayer’s bare neck before realizing he’d left something in his study.  He excused himself from the others and walked back to the room, pulling the matching necklace from the pouch on his desk and returning to their side.  Walking behind the slayer, he draped the ruby necklace around her neck and fastened it for her. 

“I…William…I can’t take this…it’s too much…” she stammered, overcome by the Earl’s generosity. 

“Nonsense.  Nothing says I can’t buy trinkets for my future bride, is there?” 

“N-no…I don’t know what to say…It’s beautiful.” 

Beside them, Doyle gaped at the vampire, surprised that he’d finally broken the news to the girl.  Why he’d waited this long he’d never know… 

From his position behind the slayer, Spike noticed the half-breed’s look and smirked.  Not for the world would he tell him why he’d wanted to wait, refusing to be ridiculed as a sap for wanting to have a ring to present the girl.  Better to let the other think it was just his snarky nature. 

Spike turned away from the slayer to relieve her maid of his girl’s cloak, resettling it around her shoulders and turning her so that he could fasten it. 

“We ready?” he asked the others. 

At their answering nods, the butler opened the front door to reveal his waiting carriage, intoning a “Good Evening, m’lords, m’lady” as they crossed the threshold into the night.

Chapter 21

A steady stream of carriages flowed in front of the Duke of Sevring’s home.  His ball was the place to be tonight, and it seemed like every member of the ton was in attendance.  Spike’s carriage pulled to a stop in front of the staircase and he quickly let himself out of the coach to assist the slayer to her feet. 

She slipped her hand in his, her smile not having left her face since they’d left his home a bit ago, and she watched as he drew it to his shoulder so that he could grip her about the waist and lower her to the ground, completely bypassing the steps.  She looked around her agog, mouth open in wonder as she gazed at the opulent home, surprised that she was actually attending the Duke’s ball.  Behind her, the Viscount and her chaperone alighted from the carriage. 

The four joined the throngs of people slowly making their way up the steps to the entrance.  Cloaks were quickly discarded as the four made their way over to where the butler was intoning their names as the guests stepped into the room.  Spike scanned the crowd, his cerulean gaze sweeping over the guests in search of the Marquess.  He ignored the hushed silence that seemed to descend over the crowd as his name rang out across the room. 

The prodigal son had come home, and everyone was atwitter to see how the meeting between father and son would play out. 

His eyes finally lighted on the Marquess, as the people seemed to unconsciously move out of his line of sight to reveal his father, and with a nod of his head to his small entourage, he directed them towards the older man, who stood talking jovially with his host. He figured it was only proper to formally introduce the slayer to his father, before bedlam erupted when everyone happened to notice his ring upon her finger. 

“Your Grace.  Father…May I present my ward, Lady Elizabeth Summers,” he greeted the two men after affecting a stiff bow. His vampiric hearing picked up the hushed whispers of the lesser-known nobles that had no idea as to the identity of his female companion. 

Elizabeth swept into a deep curtsy beside her guardian. 

“Lady Summers, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the Duke of Sevring responded.  “Caroline has told me so much about you.” 

“Your Grace,” she murmured. 

Just then, the Marquess noticed the ring sparkling from its place on the girl’s left finger and his eyes took on a happy sheen. 

“I say, William! Is this-” he began, only to be cut off. 

“Yes! But I haven’t said anything yet, and now isn’t the time.  Let’s keep it between the two of us for now.” 

“Of course, of course! I only wish your mother were still alive to meet her,” he told his son before turning to the petite and practically gushing, “Elizabeth, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” And to the amazement of the hundred plus guests in the room, who were covertly watching the reunion between father and son – if not actually hearing the exchange – with avid interest, the Marquess embraced her like a long lost daughter.  

“I…uh, that is…It’s nice to meet you, as well,” Elizabeth responded, flustered by the older gentleman’s unusual burst of affection. 

“Your Grace, I can trust your discretion in this matter?” Spike asked his host as he watched his father practically kiss the slayer’s hand in gratitude.   

“No one will hear it from me.  Although, I can’t speak for my wife once she gets a gander at the girl’s ring.  The two have become fast friends these past two weeks and I’m sure Lady Summers is just dying to share her good fortune. We’ll need to convince the Duchess that it’s the future husband’s responsibility to post the bans, not hers,” he joked. 

Spike laughed at the other’s jest – well, he hoped it was a jest – and introduced both Doyle and Mrs. Rothworth to the two men, exchanging a few more pleasantries, before excusing himself and the others, claiming he didn’t want to monopolize his host’s time.  They nodded their understanding, turning towards one another to continue the discussion they’d been having before Spike’s party had arrived.  However, the vampire did feel his father’s eyes on his back as he walked off. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

After he got the slayer seated with a drink, he left her in the care of her chaperone with strict instructions to keep her dance partners limited to the demonic persuasion – they would be the only ones that would notice and respect his claim on the girl.  He didn’t fancy getting into a brawl with some of the young bucks that might try to encroach on his territory.  The vampiress nodded her understanding, settling in beside her charge, as both the Earl and Viscount moved off to mingle with some of the other guests. 

Spike glanced over his shoulder once as he walked away, assuring himself that she would be alright with the huge crowd in attendance, then made his way over towards a small circle of men, Doyle hot on his heels. 

Four vampires looked up as they felt Spike approach, their whispered conversation about the “affair” put on hold momentarily.  The Marquess of Eaglethorpe, as the oldest vampire of the bunch at forty years, quickly introduced himself and the remaining members of the group.   Titles and names were spoken, bows performed, but none of the humans noticed the deference shown Spike as his status of master vampire. 

Standing beside the vampire, Doyle was in awe at how calmly they all spoke about everyday matters as if they didn’t have a vicious demon tucked within their skin.  They traded quips between them, discussed servants and holdings, all while nodding pleasantly to the various titled humans as they walked past.  It boggled the half-breed’s mind.  If he weren’t half demon himself, he’d be hard pressed to think that the five other men standing around him weren’t human.  And, he wondered, yet again, what the Powers were up to… 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Elizabeth was having a grand time.  Secure in the knowledge that it was she that was marrying the Earl – even though he’d yet to formally propose, and considering that she’d been sharing his bed these past weeks, she wasn’t going to push it – she was able to actually enjoy the ball and all of the people she met.  Even if she couldn’t keep track of their names. 

“They’ll remember your name, and that’s all that matters,” the vampiress whispered to her as she noticed the girl’s pole-axed expression after the last two people departed their company.  “You think it’s bad now…wait until it’s common knowledge you’re the intended bride of the Earl.  And, it’ll just get worse once you’re actually married to him.” 

“It’s just so…overwhelming.  All these people, and they’re being so nice to me, too.” 

“Yes, well… just beware.  Once these human males see that you’re married off, they’ll come out of the woodwork trying to proposition you.  You’ll have to be careful.  A delicate innocent such as yourself would be no match against their superior strength.  And they’ve the nerve to call us the monsters.” 

“I’ll try to remember that.” 

“You do that, childe.  And, learn to recognize the vampires in your company.  They’ll be the first to come to your aid.” 

Elizabeth nodded at her chaperone.  She glanced away to search for her lover in the huge crush, a smile lighting her face when she saw the Marchioness of Haversham, the vampiress who’d held the first intimate gathering she’d been allowed to attend, walking towards her, escorted by a bookish looking gentleman.  

“Renee!  It’s so good you see you again,” Elizabeth gushed. 

Clayton Percival, Viscount Sotheby, looked upon the young human girl in awe.  Renee hadn’t been teasing him with her tales about a claimed human!  He’d only come to tonight’s festivities to get a look at the chit – or to, once and for all, get the vampiress to stop teasing him.  Yet, here he stood, gaping at the gorgeous brunette like some wet behind the ears lad. 

“It’s nice to see you again too, Elizabeth.  And, this tongue-tied dolt next to me is Lord Clayton Percival, Viscount Sotheby.  Clayton, close your mouth dear and extend your greetings to Lady Elizabeth Summers, the Earl of Arundel’s ward.” 

Hearing his name, Clayton snapped out of his trance and affected a stiff bow in introduction.  

“Lady Summers…” 

Elizabeth smiled at the thin, bespectacled vampire.  Draped in the finest clothes for tonight’s ball, he still managed to look as out of place as she felt.  If it weren’t for the vampiress at his side, he probably would have went and hid in the corner.  As it was, Renee held him firmly in place without appearing to do so. 

“Clayton, why don’t you ask Elizabeth to dance?  She looks like she’d like to take a spin around the dance floor.”   

“I’d love to,” Elizabeth responded before the shy man could voice the question.  She’d felt the music thrumming through her body since she’d stepped inside.  And, although it somehow seemed different from what she was used to – which was a strange thought the more she mulled it over – she wanted to be out there, twirling around the floor. 

The Viscount escorted the human girl out amongst the other couples on the floor, both settling their hands in the proper place before gliding around the room.  His awkwardness slid away under the seemingly effortless grace of his partner.  She easily complemented his moves, as if she’d stepped into his mind and knew what he was going to do before even he did.  To test his theory, he purposefully misstepped, and was proved right when she easily sidestepped avoiding the crunch of his foot upon her soft shoes, the seamlessness of the action completely undetectable to anyone who might be watching. 

Except for one. 

Spike watched his ward glide across the dance floor in the arms of another vampire and couldn’t help but admire her poise.  Even without her memory intact, she still moved like the slayer.  Unconsciously staying one step ahead of her enemy. 

Then, he watched, as it was she that faltered, although the brief slip looked anything but contrived, and he noticed her blush and apologize to her partner for her momentary clumsiness.  But it was her ashen features and panicked look that had him swooping in to rescue his girl. 

~*~ 

Elizabeth didn’t know what happened.  One minute she was waltzing around the room on the Viscount’s arm, the next, her brain was assaulted with visions of blasphemous music, and creatures – humans – and they were dancing, at least she thought they were dancing.  But, it was unlike anything she’d ever before witnessed.  And their clothes.  It was like that time before in the alley, when she’d woken with William by her side. 

And, she became scared. 

Then, he was there.  She could feel him behind her, cutting in abruptly and sweeping her into his arms, leaving the other vampire to make his way off the floor.  Elizabeth clung to her lover as much as possible in so public a place, worried about what she’d seen, what she’d imagined.  Gained strength by his just being here, dancing with her. 

She needed him to make it go away.  Those crazy visions that caused her nothing but confusion and pain. 

When the music drew to an end, Spike led her off the dance floor and over to where Mrs. Rothworth, the vampire he’d cut in on, and a raven-haired vampiress stood talking with Doyle. 

“I’m going to make my excuses to our host and say goodbye to my father, then we’re leaving.  Watch her until I get back, she’s not feeling well,” he told the chaperone. He watched for a moment as the four rallied around the slayer, nodding his thanks before striding off to locate the Duke and his father. 

He found the Duke first, engaged in conversation with human and vampire alike, oblivious to the fact.  Spike quickly made his excuses, citing his ward’s sudden illness, and was advised by the man that his father had left about an hour before, pleading fatigue.  The vampire thanked the man for the information and his hospitality, with a promise to get together sometime in the coming week. 

Then, he returned to the slayer and his small group made their way through the crush of people, grabbing their cloaks and escaping into the night.  He didn’t bother with convention and as soon as the carriage door shut, Spike pulled the slayer onto his lap and soothed her.  He felt her shudder beneath his touch and part of him was worried that her memories were coming back. 

And, right now, he wished they really wouldn’t.

Chapter 22

Spike stood on the steps leading to the altar and struggled not to cringe from all the religious symbols on display.  Beside him, Doyle, shuffled his feet back and forth, but for an entirely different reason – he still couldn’t figure out why the Powers were keeping him in the past with Spike.  A few of his other groomsmen stood in stoic silence as they waited for the wedding to get underway. 

The blond-headed vampire breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief that he’d managed to avert disaster and actually marry the slayer before her memories came rushing back.  His mind drifted over the past month as he waited for the music to begin and the first of several birds to come walking down the aisle. 

He distinctly remembered the slayer’s trembling body as he’d held her after leaving the Duke’s ball.  She’d not voiced her concerns – which in hindsight had worked out for the best since he’d not needed her chaperone to look at them suspiciously – just cling to his chest as he’d attempted to soothe her fears. 

He’d waited until the household had settled down before going to her and she’d stayed up waiting for him.  Holding out her arms for him from her position in the middle of the bed.  He remembered she’d started crying at one point, scared that she’d be taken from him and thrust back to that “awful” place, and he’d done almost everything he could think of to show her that he wouldn’t let her leave him.  But, she’d vehemently denied his reassurances as her hysteria increased, and it had taken him burying his cock within her depths and draping his body over hers until she finally calmed down. 

He’d left her in the predawn hours, too exhausted to do nothing more than sleep the morning and early afternoon away.  And, he’d prayed she’d wake with her memories firmly locked away. 

He’d not been able to sleep and instead went to his study to set plans in motion to formally marry the slayer, allotting her and her chaperone just one month to make the necessary arrangements.  When the slayer had balked at him, citing that most weddings took months if not a year to finalize, he’d told her in no uncertain terms that it would be one month, and if she had a problem with anything, to see him and he’d work through any issues with money.  Throw enough money at it, and the problem just seemed to disappear.  And, Spike had more money than he seemed to know what to do with. 

So, for the next month, the two women had plotted; he’d rarely seen the slayer during the day as invitations were finalized, a wedding gown chosen, the reception and meal planned.   

He’d thought everything was moving along smoothly until Mrs. Rothworth had knocked on his study about a week into their allotted month.  Her charge was upset and no amount of coaxing could get the girl to voice her troubles.  Spike had gotten up to see what was troubling the slayer, but Doyle stayed him.  Understanding dawned in the vampire’s eyes, and he nodded once to the other demon. 

It was time for the half-breed to explain to the slayer why her parents had yet to make an appearance after the banns had been posted.  He practically dragged his feet as he left the study, muttering possible conversation openers as he left the study. 

Spike remained behind to comfort her once the bad news was broken. 

And she’d come running, tears pouring down her face as she raced into the study. Spike just held her close while she poured out her imaginary grief at the death of her parents.  Doyle had explained that Spike had wanted to wait until after the wedding before telling her the bad news, how he’d not wanted to spoil what had been such a joyous occasion.  When she’d burst into the room, claiming she couldn’t get married now because of the mandatory mourning period, he’d nearly exploded.  Yet, he’d managed to calm himself and explain that if they’d waited, whomever her father had chosen as her guardian would have the say in her life.  Which also meant that no one could know about her parent’s death until after they were married. 

She’d blustered and cried some more, but was eventually swayed to his way of thinking and gone back to her planning. The first few days after finding out she’d been just going through the motions, not taking part as enthusiastically as she once was.  But, as the days wore on, her cheery disposition returned until she was once more her giddy self at the prospect of marrying the Earl. 

Spike could make the days go by fast enough.  After the Duke of Sevring’s ball, when they weren’t planning for the wedding, they were attending one function after another.  The slayer’s instant popularity had been established once it was noted that she was the intended bride of the Earl of Arundel.  And, since the Earl had settled his differences with his father – not to mention the way he had with money – invitations were flooding in requesting their presence at some function or another.  He didn’t even want to remember the steady stream of visitors into his home that caused both him and Doyle to seek sanctuary in his study.   

He’d not minded, so much, the activity.  He’d surprised himself by actually getting along with a few of the vampiric nobles he’d been introduced to.  No, what worried him were the increased interactions of the slayer with others.  He’d always worried when she’d disappear with her chaperone to attend some tea that she’d come back with her memories intact and a stake gripped in her fist. 

But, after that incident on the dance floor, she’d not had another – not that he’d counted the occasional Spike’s she’d shouted as an orgasm ripped through her body.  Her body may realize who her lover happened to be, but her mind wasn’t quite ready to learn. 

So now, here he stood in a single file line with five other men, all in matching dress, as they waited for the women to appear. 

His cerulean colored eyes scanned the packed church that had come to bear witness to his marriage.  He just wished the bloody thing would move along, so he could marry the girl and escape the suffocating walls of the religious building. 

Then, finally the music started and the first of the slayer’s bridesmaids began her walk down the aisle. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

There’s something about seeing a woman in a wedding dress for the first time that seems to leave one gaping like a bloody ponce.  Yes, he’d already claimed the girl.  Yes, he’d let the Powers manipulate him into actually performing a human ceremony.  But, as he caught his first glimpse of the slayer in all her finery, no matter that it was eighteenth century couldn’t-make-out-a-hint-of-a-figure-underneath-all-that-material garb, Spike could do nothing more than stare like everyone else. 

She was a vision.  Clichéd, but true. 

Made of the palest silver, the long-sleeved gown hugged her arms and upper body like a second skin.  The bodice came to a “vee” in the front, and the current fashion of plumed skirts flaring at the waist was modified to a gentle swell outward from her tiny waist.  His eyes narrowed in on the plunging neckline and thought for sure that if she were to inhale too deeply, she’d burst out of her top and flash all the guests.  A train attached to the back of her collar to trail behind her at least ten feet.  The only jewels she wore were the blood red ruby necklace he’d gifted her with almost a month ago, and her engagement ring.  Her hair was swept back from her face to fall in riotous curls down her back, completely ignoring society’s latest rage of the huge pompadour hairstyle. 

As she slowly made her way towards him, he entertained thoughts of striding down the aisle, ripping the bloody contraption off and having his wicked way with her in front of all of the guests.  Spike watched her grip tighten on his father as he helped her down the aisle, a stumble so slight he doubted anyone noticed.  But he had, severing the call he’d unconsciously exerted via the claim.   

Then, she smiled at him.  A secret smile that showed him she knew what he’d done, and couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over so they could actually act upon it. 

And, he sent up a silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in for Him to hurry these proceedings along and end his torment. 

When his father finally reached him and relinquished his hold on the slayer, Spike breathed a mental sigh of relief.  He slipped his hands in hers and gazed down at her upturned face as the priest bound them together…forsaking all others. 

All too soon, the wedding was complete, and his hands lifted to cup her jaw as he swooped down to claim her lips in a fierce kiss, the passionate embrace eliciting titters among many of the guests.  Reluctantly, he lifted his head from the slayer, smiling slightly as she remained as she was – head lifted, eyes closed – and he couldn’t resist a second hard, quick kiss.  He felt her smile beneath his lips and his answering smile presented itself before he had a chance to stop it. 

His hands fell from her face and he reached out with one hand to lead her down the aisle and past the guests. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Since the Marquess of Chadworth’s home was much large than his son’s, he’d volunteered to hold the reception there.  When Spike and the slayer stepped inside, the place was already teeming with people. They danced and mingled with the wedding guests until he thought he’d go crazy if he didn’t have her right then. 

Leaving the small group of gentlemen he’d been chatting with, Spike searched for his father to make his excuses.  He’d waited long enough – at least he figured spending two hours at this bloody reception had been very generous on his part.  Personally, he’d rather have skipped the formalities and gone straight to the bedding aspect of this night.  Wending his way through the crush of people, he finally zeroed in on is father.  It was a bonus that the slayer happened to be standing next to the older man – it saved him from having to hunt her down. 

He watched as she happened to glance away from the Marquess, as if sensing his approach, and saw her face light up with delight.  Spike took a moment to revel in the feeling of the undisguised emotion on her face, locking the moment away to pull out once the slayer’s mind was once more in the driver’s seat.  The vampire didn’t kid himself that the girl’s feelings would last past the moment when her memories returned. 

“William,” Elizabeth gushed as he moved to stand next to her, “I was just thanking your father for allowing us to use his place to hold the reception, and if, by chance, he’d seen you.  I think all this celebration has gone to my head and find that I might need to lie down and rest for a bit.” 

“I was just about to search the masses for you when Elizabeth noticed your presence,” the Marquess added. 

“I’m sorry, William, but would you mind terribly if we left the party early?” she questioned of her husband. 

Spike could barely hide his smile at his good fortune.  He’d thought that it would have taken him hours to convince the slayer to leave her own reception.  Her feeling unwell provided just the excuse he needed to steal her away from this crowd so soon after arriving.  Once back at his townhouse, he could cure the slayer of her slight illness in the most sinful of ways before departing for his country estate for the week. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, luv,” he responded.  He just hoped he was able to keep the eagerness out of his voice.  “Why don’t we get you home to rest for a bit?” 

“I’m sure that’s all I need,” she told him.  “I wasn’t able to sleep well last night, and I hate to leave all of these guests…” 

The Marquess hurried to assure her that everyone would understand, patting her hand in a fatherly way as drew her towards the front door. 

Spike had just settled her into the seat and gotten the carriage underway when the slayer attacked him, planting herself in his lap and ravishing his lips.  The minx!  And here he’d thought that he’d have to coax her into this… 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Willow woke first, the sunlight filtering in from the blinds and shining across her face from her spot on the floor.  She stretched, wondering why she’d fallen asleep on the floor, and leaned over to wake Buffy – but found Xander’s dark mop of hair peeking out of the sleeping bag. 

The redhead sat up abruptly, the events of last night rushing over her, and she leaned over to shake her friend awake. 

“Xander!  Wake up!” 

The boy burrowed himself deeper into his cocoon, moaning under his breath for his mother to leave him alone. 

“Xander!  Come on…wake up.  We’ve got to get back to the library.  I’m sure Giles has set up some type of research party to locate Buffy.” 

“Hey, you two, keep it quiet,” Cordelia’s voice drifted down to them from her place on the bed.  “Some of us need our beauty sleep.” 

“Wha?” Xander’s voice sounded at the same time.  Willow rolled her eyes – apparently the name Buffy was enough to tear him away from sleep. 

“Buffy…you know…the slayer.  She disappeared yesterday?” 

Xander sat up, his eyes taking in his location.  ‘So this is what Cordelia’s bedroom looks like!’ 

“Huh?  Oh, right!  Buffy!” Xander exclaimed, once more focusing on the matter at hand.  “We probably should go then.” 

From her place on the bed, Cordelia sat up, flung the covers off of her, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. 

“Well, since I’m obviously not getting any more sleep today, I may as well get dressed and come with you,” she told the two before flouncing into her connecting bathroom and shutting the door. 

The two friends sat on the floor staring at one another, confusion marring their features. 

Did Cordelia just offer to help them? 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Cordelia had parked her car next to Giles’ blue relic and made their way towards the back entrance of the school.  It was the closest door leading to the library and the watcher was in the habit of leaving it open when he was there in case the slayer or her friends were to stop by. 

Their shoes clicked hollowly on the deserted floor as they made their way towards the swinging doors of the library. 

The three stepped inside and the first thing they saw was a huge stack of books littering the table where Giles sat – well, slept – head resting on a place beside one of the open volumes. 

“Giles?” Willow called out softly so as not to scare the man to death.  It didn’t work, and they watched as he jerked awake and nearly upended the chair. 

“Willow?  Xander…Cordelia?  What are you doing here?  I thought I told you to go home.” 

“Uh, G-man…we did.  It’s morning now, as in the day after.”  He pointed to the window.  “See the light?” 

“Oh, did you spend the whole night here,” Willow asked concerned.  Then, not waiting for an answer she told him, “We came back to help, figuring you’d…well…be…” She gestured towards the stack of books. “…researching.” 

“Yes, well, uh…right.  Uh… make yourself at home,” Giles told them as he gestured toward the chairs around the table. 

Willow noticed one of the books that both she and Buffy had been looking at after seeing the diary the other day and moved to put it on another table out of the way. 

“Ooooh, I’ll take that one,” Cordelia announced, putting her hands on the book.  “It doesn’t look ‘quite’ so old as the other ones…less dusty too.” 

The redhead shrugged her shoulders.  It wasn’t like Cordelia was going to find anything useful in the book and that would leave the other, more important, books to Willow and Giles. 

As the others sat down, Xander escaped briefly to make a donut run. 

“Oh, get some of those jelly-filled ones…” Giles called out to the departing boy. 

“Right, jelly-filled goodness for the G-man.” 

“And would you stop with that infernal name you insist upon calling me?” 

But Xander was already out of the library and didn’t hear. 

~*~ 

The others were deep into research-mode when Xander returned with their sugar high.  Both Willow and Giles looked deep in thought as they pored over the old tomes opened before them.  Cordelia was curled up in her chair, idly twirling a lock of her hair with her index finger, when she flipped the page and sat up so suddenly the book nearly toppled out of her lap. 

“Oh my God!  Look at this, Giles.” 

“There can’t be anything there,” Willow told the brunette. “That’s just a history book of titled men and women in eighteenth century England.  Buffy and I were looking at it the other day after stealing Giles’ watcher’s diary…” 

Her voice trailed off, as she realized what had just come out of her mouth.  She glanced guiltily towards Giles, her face flaming red in embarrassment. 

“Shows what you know, Miss Smartypants,” Cordelia told the redhead, plopping the book down on top of the opened one she’d been reading.  “Says right here, the Earl of Arundel married Lady Buffy Anne Summers on December 12, 1775.” 

“That’s just a coincidence…” Willow stammered. 

“Oh, yeah?  Take a look at this!”  Cordelia flipped the page and Willow gawked at the replicated painting in the book. 

“Oh my!  That’s just…Giles!  That’s Buffy…and Spike!”

Chapter 23

A/N:  Just to forewarn, this chapter does absolutely nothing to further the plot of this story.  So, if you're looking for that, you'll have to wait for the next chapter.  If, on the other hand, you're hear to read all about our couple's honeymoon, scroll down and enjoy! ^_^

Elizabeth hiked the skirts of her wedding dress nearly to her waist so that she could settle more comfortably on her husband’s lap, peppering his pale face with light kisses as she played with the curls at the nape of his neck.  Husband.  She liked the sound of that. 

“Husband,” she murmured the title out loud.  She paused for a moment, her lips suspended over his, so that she could gaze upon his face.  His eyes were closed, his head resting against the carriage wall behind him, an answering smile to her whispered title playing about his full lips. 

He was beautiful in repose.  His sculpted cheekbones just begged for her lips and tongue to trace them.  The scar crisscrossing his dark brow gave him a decidedly rakish air.  His hair was getting longer, the pale tips giving way to a slightly darker color – more honey brown than blonde. 

Spike felt her studying him and open one eye to peek up at the slayer. 

“Wot?” 

“Nothing,” she replied, her cheeks pinkening.  Her hands slipped from his hair to his shoulders, then down into her lap.  Her eyes became fixated on them, anything to keep from getting caught in his piercing gaze. 

“Don’t go all blushin’ bride on me now.  What are you thinkin’?” 

His words just made her blush harder, and she shook her head in the negative to keep from answering, refusing to look at him. 

“Come on now, none of that.”  His fingertips brushed under her chin and coaxed her to raise her gaze to his.  He gasped at the intensity he saw there, and for a moment he thought the slayer was back and ready to stake him good and proper-like. 

“I just… you’re my husband now.  Mine. And now, everyone knows it.”  She couldn’t prevent the wicked gleam that came into her eyes at how she’d managed to steal him out from under all of those plotting mothers and their equally single-minded daughters. 

As if to prove it to herself, her hands returned to his shoulders, and she lowered her lips to his once more. 

Spike’s grip on the slayer’s hips tightened.  But, other than that, he showed no sign of how much she was affecting him.  Well, that, and the bulge pressed snuggly against his breeches. 

Elizabeth traced her tongue around his lips, mimicking what had been done to her by him when he wanted to taste her.  She smiled when his lips parted, as if on command, allowing her tongue to slip inside.   

Spike remained still, seeing how far she would take her exploration, and nearly crowed with delight when her lips left his to trail along his jaw to his ear.   He kept his fingers firmly clenched into her hips and willed his body not to move and frighten her off.  Her moist tongue and warm breath were playing havoc with his body as she traced the shell of his ear – he wanted nothing more than to fling her down upon the floor of the carriage and ravage her body.  But, this was the first time she’d initiated their love play and he wanted to see just how far she’d take it.   

His patience was rewarded when he felt her hands leave his shoulders and go to work on the fastenings of his coat.  Then, he felt his cravat tugged from about his neck before nimble fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt. 

Elizabeth was growing bolder, encouraged both by the pleasurable sighs and groans escaping his mouth and by him lying relatively passive beneath her.  If you could call his tightly coiled body practically vibrating beneath her parted legs passive.  But, she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – stop now.  Her fingers flew over the fastenings, eager to feel his cool skin beneath her fingertips, her lips.  Her mouth moved away from his ear to slide down his body as more skin became available for her to touch, caress, mark as hers.  She felt him tremble as her lips latched into one hardened nipple, much the same way he often did to her.  Her other hand managed to bare the other pert nub, and she fondled it as she laved the first one with her tongue.  Beneath her, she felt him arch into her touch, and she smiled around the hardened point in her mouth just before she bit into him with her blunt teeth.  Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to get his attention, which she got…a growl emanating from his throat at her aggressive behavior. 

Yet, he made no move to dislodge her, and this emboldened Elizabeth to continue her quest further down his body.  Her lips and tongue tasted every inch of his marble-colored chest.  She marveled at the lean muscles of his abdomen, how they rippled beneath her touch as they traced patterns along the grooves.   

Impatient to see more of him, she pulled his shirt from his waistband, spreading it wide.  She felt his grip on her hips disappear so she could slip the garment from his shoulder and down his arms to pool on the seat.  She happened a glance towards his face and noticed that his eyes were still closed – the muscles in his jaw were clenched, indicating the tightly leashed control on his emotions.  She could see the pronounced veins along his neck, located where he often sipped from her, and she gripped his shoulders as she lowered her head to trace its path with her tongue. 

Spike’s arms wrapped around her back, holding her flush against his body as she alternately sucked and nipped at his neck, and could do nothing to prevent his demonic features from bursting forth.  Was practically salivating to sink his fangs in her neck as she played so innocently with his.  Before he had a chance to act, she moved away, sliding down his body to kneel before him on the seat, so that she could continue where she’d left off. 

He felt her fingers playing with the fastenings of his pants, and Spike sucked in an unneeded breath when he realized that she intended to explore every inch of his body.  Once more he exerted his will over his body to not attack her, to rip her gown from her body as his lust threatened to consume him and plunge his cock so hard and deep inside her pussy she’d pass out from the pleasure-filled pain.  He was just about to say sod it all to her exploring when he felt her still. 

His passion-filled gaze fixated on her face, noting the hesitancy clearly written all over her expressive features. 

“What’s the matter, luv?” he asked, unable to keep the husky quality out of his voice. 

“I…it’s ok, right?  What I’m doing?  I just…well, you’ve never let me touch you like this before…” her voice trailed off in a mixture of embarrassment and child-like innocence. 

Her words tamped down the beast raging within to take her hard and fast.  He vowed right then and there that he’d lay pliant under her touch as she acquainted herself with his body. 

“Anything we do together is right, kitten.”  He pulled her up off of her knees and into his lap.  With an unusual display of gentle affection, he pulled the pins from her hair, allowing the dark locks to cascade down her back.  His fingers cupped her jaw, pulling her down to him for the barest of kisses – no more than brushing his lips lightly back and forth across hers. 

Elizabeth’s eyes had closed as he’d coaxed her head toward his, but they opened now, tears swimming in her eyes as she looked at her husband.  A demon, but still a man, and capable of such emotion.  As he kissed her with such loving tenderness, reassuring her with his touch that this was right, that they were right, her love for him burst forth until it threatened to overwhelm her, and she couldn’t prevent the whispered vow from escaping her lips. 

I love you. 

Spike’s lips stilled upon the slayer’s.  His eyes opened and his gaze collided with hers, watery eyes brimming with an emotion he’d yet to see, even from his Dark Princess.  He was a vampire tormented.  Part of him crowed with delight that she’d come to care for him.  But, he knew it to be just an illusion.  As soon as the slayer was once more in her right mind, she’d deny him – just out of spite – for even being made to feel this way…and about a soulless demon.  A creature she was destined to kill. 

“Oh God, pet…” he murmured, kissing her again as he fumbled with her skirts.  “Gotta be inside you.  Can’t wait,” he gasped. 

He felt her fingers at the fastenings of his pants, eager to join their bodies in celebration of her announcement. 

“Don’t….don’t rip…wanna keep…gown…” she told him in between kisses, trying to preserve her wedding gown from being torn to shreds from her body. 

Spike nodded against her lips, he’d spare the dress…the undergarments wouldn’t fare as well. 

Elizabeth’s knees found purchase upon the seat, allowing her husband to raise his hips and push his breeches down around his knees.  She felt her undergarments give way under his sharp claws, the delicate material no match for his impatience, and she quirked her brow at him. 

“Wot?  It’s not your gown.” 

Her mock-angry look left her in a rush as he quickly positioned himself at her opening and hauled her body down upon his engorged length.  Her arms encircled his neck as he guided her hips to ride him.  She murmured her love for her husband over and over until she was no longer able to speak, the pleasure of having him sheathed so tight and deep within her soon reduced her to fervent declarations to hitched breaths and needy moans, until she exploded in orgasm, the name “William” reverberating against the walls of the carriage. 

Spike’s hips rose off the seat of the carriage and he continued to guide her hips to move up and down along his length as she came.  The clenching of her inner walls around his cock were his undoing, and it wasn’t long before he was joining her, an orgasm so intense his eyes nearly crossed as his cock erupted with his spendings.  Her heavy breathing was the only noise to break the silence as he held her close, his cock still buried deep within her. 

As he caressed her back, he refused to dwell on her whispered “I love you’s” she’d babbled during their lovemaking.  Didn’t want to think about when it would all come to an end, and she’d hate him yet again.  So, he spoke nothing of his developing feelings.  Just used his body to reciprocate the words she’d so innocently spoken. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Elizabeth had dozed on her husband’s lap, lulled by the gentle sway of their carriage as it wended its way towards their destination.  When she awoke, she was finally able to finish her exploration of her husband’s body…well sorta. 

Now, once more settled in his lap – although this time divested of clothes – she smiled in delight at how she’d been able to make him lose control.  Fascinated by her husband’s jutting manhood, her fingertips had encircled his length, marveling at the silken steel as she’d pumped her hand from base to tip and then back again.  She’d seen a pearly drop appear at the slit in the head and had been fascinated, wondering how it tasted.  Curious, her tongue had darted out to lick up the drop, and she’d found herself flat on her back on the floor of the carriage quicker than she could blink, her skirts thrown up over her head as her husband pounded away at her. 

Afterwards, he’d apologized, telling her that she’d have to do her exploration in stages…for her own protection, claiming he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions if she kept this up.  She’d just smiled into his neck, reveling in her power over him. 

They’d finally stopped after the fourth stage, with him claiming that they’d need to get dressed soon as they were nearing their destination.  Curled upon his lap as she was now, Elizabeth didn’t feel much like moving.  Even to get dressed.  She was far too comfortable…and sated. 

Spike didn’t feel much like moving either, was happy to hold her in all her naked glory on his lap.  But, he didn’t think his Countess wanted to formally meet the staff in the buff, so he urged her off of his lap to help her back into her wedding gown.  He’d managed to slip his own clothes on just as the carriage made the turn into his country estate. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

The two spent the remainder of the week locked inside the master bedroom, having food and drink delivered to the bedroom door.  They didn’t eat often; Elizabeth wouldn’t have bothered at all if it weren’t for her husband’s insistence.  And, he had made sure she did since he couldn’t seem to keep his fangs out of her body over the course of the week and wanted to make sure she kept up her strength. 

Spike continually stamped his mark upon the slayer’s body, knowing that any day could be the last once she had her memories back.  He plied his skill over her body, reducing her to tears as she had begged for release the first couple of days, before she’d caught on and whispered the words that would release her from his torment. 

I love you. 

Sensing his insecurity, but not knowing the cause, Elizabeth murmured it over and over to her husband as he loved her, and he in turn, showered her body with love.  Oh, she’d yet to hear it pass from his lips, but every action, every caress, proved to her his love of her.  So, she said it for both of them.  Yell it as her body climaxed around his.  Whispered it as she held him close while he slept the day away. 

On the day they were due to depart back to the city, Earl and Countess finally left the master bedroom so that Elizabeth could be properly introduced to the staff.  The more senior staff she’d already met, having spent the past month or so with them at the townhouse.  Now she met the remainder – and there were many.  From lowly stable boy and downstairs maid, all the way up through the servant chain of command, Elizabeth was introduced to each and everyone as their new Countess.  Afterwards, the two had eaten in the formal dining room before retiring to William’s study so that he could go through some correspondence before they returned to London.  

~*~ 

Elizabeth settled on the chaise lounge, an unopened book of poetry sat forgotten on her lap as she watched her husband work.  He sifted through the papers on his desk, a frown often marring his features as he concentrated.  She watched as he ran a hand through his hair to brush a stray lock out of his way, and covered her mouth around a giggle as the stubborn curl returned to its previous position. 

“Keep looking at me like that, pet, and we’ll never get back to the city.  And, you know you need your beauty sleep for the Marchioness’ dinner party tomorrow night,” Spike told her, his eyes never leaving the papers spread out before him on his desk. 

Elizabeth flushed, having been caught ogling her husband, and she turned back to the poetry book in her lap.  After a while, she closed the book, resting her head against the armrest to take a nap.  She was tired, but in a good kind of way. 

“Why don’t you go upstairs to rest, kitten,” he urged, seeing her trying to get comfortable on the chaise. 

“Wanna stay here with you,” she mumbled sleepily as she settled herself on the cushioned furniture. 

Spike’s eyes widened at her improper English – she was getting close now.  This past week was proof of that.  Several times he’d awakened the slayer to make love to her to have her melt into his embrace, murmuring his name.  But, it hadn’t been William she voiced; it had been Spike. 

Now as he heard the butchered English she’d spoken back in her time come out of her mouth, he wanted to rage and curse the Powers for putting him in this situation.  Yet, after having her warm and willing body surrounding him, her words of love soothing his demon…he would still do things the same way.  She was his.  Would still be his even after her memories came back.  Whether she wanted to be or not. 

~*~ 

He let her sleep until dusk, when, finished with the necessities of running his household, he rose from his desk to wake her.  He gazed down on her sleeping perfection as she rested on her side, one arm tucked up under her chin while the other rested on the cushion in front of her.  Kneeling beside her, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, smiling as she leaned into him. 

“Come on, kitten.  Time to wake up so we can return to the city,” Spike told her. 

Elizabeth’s eyelashes fluttered as she was pulled from sleep.  They finally opened and her gaze locked on the blue orbs staring indulgently at her.   

“Hey…” she voiced around a sleepy smile. 

She noticed his slight frown and lifted her hand to soothe the lines away. 

“Love you,” she told him as her thumb brushed over his lips. 

Spike lowered his head to hers, ravaging her lips with all his pent-up frustrations as her ever-increasing present-day traits returned.  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close as he plundered her mouth, unsure what it was exactly that had set him off this time.  Just as she started to roll to her back and bring her husband to rest on top of her, he broke away from her embrace, leaving her grasping at air and teeming with sexual frustration. 

He rose to his feet, griping her hand as he hauled her to a sitting position. 

“Later, luv,” he told her with a wink.  She looked so cute, all disgruntled and pouty, and couldn’t help the smile the graced his lips.  “We’ve still a long ride back to the city to look forward to.” 

She cheered at his promise, and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

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