Darkened
The wind tugged at her jacket as she wandered through the gravestones, listening. She could sense the grass and twigs being disturbed even before the sound reached her ears. She spun, stake in hand.
"Spike."
"Slayer." He paused. "Planning on using that?"
"Give me a reason to."
He moved closer until they were nose to nose. "That really what you want?"
"Yes." She shuddered as his hand grazed her thigh. She tried to ignore the feeling that was beginning to spread from the point of contact.
He leaned in close, his words wrapping themselves around her. "Kill me then."
She raised the stake. He stood still. She shook her head, pulling him to her. It could wait. She let the stake fall to the ground as her lips pressed feverishly against his. She needed him.
He let out a small laugh. "You can't do it can you, Slayer? You need me too much, don't you?" He got a half moan in response. He could feel her body pressing against his in the cool night air. As much as he hungered for her, he could tell she wanted him more.
His hands slid down her back, tracing the contours of her muscles beneath the coarse fabric of her jacket. Oh the things he wanted to do to her. He wanted to devour every inch of her, to have her to himself forever. She didn't seem to mind as his finger dug beneath the fabric, clawing at her skin. Her eyes closed as they moved against each other; lust spilling from every pore.
"Look at me," he breathed, grinding against her, teasing the way only he could.
Her eyes opened and desire, a primal need shone in them. "Tell me," she gasped, "you want me."
A smirk as his hands dug deeper into her skin. "I always want you, Buffy." In one painful movement, he was holding her against him, one arm clamped firmly across her chest. "And now I have you."
She struggled against his grip for a moment or two. She knew he liked it. This was as much about his desires as it was hers. Buffy's fingers dug into the flesh of his exposed forearm as his other hand made its way beneath the material of her pants, sending jolts of adrenaline through her nervous system.
Before she knew what was happening she felt his lips pressed firmly against her neck, moving towards her shoulder and she could nothing to stop it. Each movement only around her more.
"Don't," she rasped as he pulled his lips away from her skin.
"Make me."
She used all the force she could muster to shove his body against the nearest tree. He let out a grunt as he collided with it but didn't have time to react. She forcibly undid the belt on his pants and yanked the zipper down.
"Impatient, love?"
"Shut up."
She pushed up against him, making him groan as she mounted him. She gripped one of the low branches to give herself support. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly against his body. They moved together; groans and sighs filtering into the night as they once more consummated their lust, their painful, debasing fervor.
There was always something about their time together that fanned Spike's passion for Buffy. Maybe it was the fact that after all those months of longing, hoping, he finally had her. He didn't need to force her to be his. She came to him on her own. She liked being in the dark with him, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself.
Time seemed to slow around them as their bodies moved as one. Nothing else existed outside of themselves, outside of the heat of the moment. No words need be spoken tonight, the rhythm of their hearts pounding against each other said it all.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both heaving for breath. Buffy stumbled a few steps away from to compose herself. It was late and she needed to get home. She needed to be there for Dawn. Spike watched her, pulling his pants up in one fluid motion.
"I…I have to go," she mumbled, reaching for her stake and running off.
"Stop denying it. You like with me. You belong in the dark, pet. The sooner you realize it, the happier you'll be," he called after her.