Save the Last Dance for Me

By: Passion4Spike

Chapter 37: Hurts So Good

Chapter Summary:

Buffy and Spike let their wicked sides come out to play.

"Please! Spike! Just stop!" Buffy shrieked, laughing and crying and writhing beneath him.

He straddled her hips, her hands and feet still bound to the bed, the feather held menacingly above her ticklish right side, having tortured the left into submission.

"Say it again," he demanded in a low rumble.

"I love you! I love you! I love you! Please stop now!"

Spike chuckled, tracing the soft feather over her breasts and watching goose-flesh prickle her skin in its wake.

"Say it again," he whispered, his eyes looking up to meet hers.

"I love you," Buffy replied softly. "I'm going to kill you, but I love you."

A low rumble of laughter rolled from his chest, flowing over her like rich, warm honey. He leaned down, and kissed her deeply, but gently. "I love you, Buffy," he murmured against her lips.

"I can tell by the way you love to torture me," she teased, lifting her head up and taking his lower lip between her teeth and biting down gently.

"You're quite good at it," she observed, releasing his lip.

"Vampire, remember?" he replied, smirking down at her.

"I do … and if that stiffy is any indication, I do believe you enjoy your work immensely."

"Understatement, that is," he admitted, his eyes burning with the flame of blue avarice.

"So, is it time for the 'quid' part now? When do I get my turn?" Buffy wondered, looking up at him with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

"As soon as I take care of one little thing," he assured her.

He shifted his position, sliding down her body, leaving a trail of slick pre-cum on her skin as he moved between her thighs. Spike turned first to the right and to the left, unlocking the shackles that held her ankles, leaving the chains still hooked on the bedposts.

"Hard t' fuck you properly like that," he explained, lifting her legs up and out. He folded her in half, hooking her feet beneath her still-shackled arms, to open her glistening pussy to him fully.

Spike dipped his mouth to her sweet quim, which was wet and dripping with her desire. He trailed his tongue from her taint to her clit in one long, languorous motion, then circled her clit, teasing her right to the edge of reason.

Buffy bit her bottom lip and moaned in pleasure, her body quivering as the already-burning fires were stoked ever higher. God, she needed to cum. Badly! She had to admit that there was something about being completely under his control that turned her on way more than she'd ever thought was possible.

It wasn't something she'd ever allowed herself to experience with anyone else, and it went against her Slayer nature – which could be what made it so exciting and taboo. Even feigned fear and anger seemed to boost her adrenaline, though the way he'd growled and threatened her with that dagger, combined with some things he said that touched her inner-green-eyed-monster, it wasn't that hard to feign it.

It all combined to stir a deliciously dark and dangerous desire in her – to be controlled and to control. Both held equal allure deep inside her, in the murky corners of herself that she was used to ignoring, hiding, smothering. She didn't have to smother them with Spike, though. He knew her, he'd uncovered those places within her, brought them to the surface, let them be okay … natural, accepted, even embraced.

She didn't have to hide those parts of herself anymore. Not with Spike. He wouldn't let her crash against the rocks. He might torture her to the edge of sanity, but he'd never betray her trust.

Whether they were whirling in the darkness or floating in the light, there was no judgment, only acceptance.

"God, Spike, please…" she begged, lifting her hips up to press against his mouth.

"Please what, Slayer?" he taunted before pulling her swollen button of desire between his teeth and biting down gently.

"Arrrgh! Fuck! Yes … please! I need more!" Buffy demanded, her body writhing and wriggling beneath him.

"Do ya, then?" he asked casually, slipping one finger just barely into her throbbing channel. "That do?"

"NO! FUCK!"

"Think yer forgetin' who's in charge here, Slayer," Spike continued taunting her, swirling his tongue around her clit delicately as he slid that one finger slowly in and out of her wet, slick channel. "Who's in charge?"

"Argggggghhh!" Buffy screamed in frustration, starting to thrash.

"Wrong answer," Spike purred against her burning skin. "Two more guesses. Who's in charge?"

"YOU! FUCK! YOU ARE!" she gave in, still trying to move enough to make what he was doing to her less torturous.

"And who do you belong to?" he continued, sliding his dripping finger down over her taint to her puckered rosebud.

"FUCK! SPIKE! PLEASE!"

"Try that again, Slayer. Who do you belong to?" he asked again, slipping his finger into her tight, puckered hole.

Buffy gasped, her body trembling as bolts of hot lightning shot through her. "You, you fucking vampire! YOU!"

"Mmmmmmm …" Spike purred, probing deeper with his slick finger in her ass. "That sounds delicious. Say it again. Say, 'I belong to you, you fucking vampire.'"

Buffy bit back another scream of frustration and ground out, "I belong to you. You mother-fucking sick son-of-a-bitch vampire."

Spike chuckled against her clit, cool air tickling over her wet, hot skin, sending shivers of lust washing through her.

"Now, then … what is it you wanted, my slutty little Slayer?" he asked before touching the tip of his tongue down on her clit again, just hard enough to remind her of how good it would feel to have him pounding into her, slamming against it, fucking her hard and deep.

"Please … you're killing me," she moaned, tugging against the restraints on her wrists. They didn't budge. What the fuck were they made of?!

"I haven't even begun to kill you, pet," he assured her, his voice deep, resounding with desire. "And it will hurt. And you'll love it. You'll beg me to hurt you again."

Buffy squirmed beneath him, her heart rate beginning to gallop, her adrenaline pumping again. "No, I won't … I—"

"No lies, Slayer," Spike stopped her, sitting back to look into her eyes, but leaving that one finger pumping slowly in and out of her tight ass.

"You love the pain, you need it," he asserted, adding another finger to the one, delving deeper and deeper into her sweet rosebud, stretching her tight ring of muscle open wider, coating her opening with the slick nectar that poured from her pussy.

Buffy gasped and stopped moving, not sure she really wanted to drive those digits deeper. She could feel him stretching her and her body resisting. She could feel the silver ring on his index finger catch on her opening with each slow pump in and out of her. God help her, it hurt just a little … and it felt delicious.

Buffy's head was swimming, her heart speeding along at a gallop and she was starting to have a hard time breathing. Part of her wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, another part wanted him to stop. She felt herself whirling in a tornado of desire tinged with fear, with a good dose of what her old, ingrained ideas of 'good' and 'bad' were mixed in to muddy the waters even more.

Spike kept talking in a calm, resonant voice as he fucked her ass slowly, spreading his slick fingers wider every few strokes, making her gasp and shudder beneath him. "When you're fighting, you use the pain, gather the force of it in, mold it into power, and unleash it like a weapon.

"When you're fucking, you use it to propel you higher, make your zenith that much sharper, make the painful pleasure of it that much more piercing. Give in to the pain, Buffy. It's your nature," Spike reminded her.

He dipped his mouth back to her pussy and slid his tongue inside her deep and hard, but only once, before pulling back out.

Buffy's body arched in pleasure, in anticipation of the fall, but it wasn't enough. She groaned in frustration, her body hovering over the precipice, but unable to fall.

"Can anyone else balance you on that razor's edge like I can? On the fringe between ecstasy and agony?" he asked her, slipping his thumb into her quim and letting it fuck her gently as his fingers continued delving into her ass.

"No," Buffy gasped, barely a whisper, as her heart pounded in her chest and her breath suddenly became shallow and reedy.

"No…? No, what?" Spike asked, glaring down at her with a hard, blue gaze.

"Umm … No … sir?" she tried, her mind muddled by all the sensations he was pouring over her.

"Do you think I'm a gentleman?" Spike wondered, cocking a brow at her.

Buffy shook her head quickly. "No."

"What am I, then?" Spike purred, lifting his other hand up to tease one nipple to rock-hardness.

"A mother-fucking sick son-of-a-bitch vampire," Buffy replied hoarsely.

Spike nodded slowly. "That's right," he agreed. "And you are my Slayer. Mine," he breathed, as his fingers suddenly shoved deeper inside her, a sharp contrast to the gentle rhythmic pumping he'd been employing before.

Buffy's body reacted to his painful invasion by releasing another flood of slick heat from her throbbing pussy, and making her heart skip several beats. Her whole body felt poised on pins and needles, her need for him growing by leaps and bounds, her lust a barely-bridled thoroughbred, ready to break free.

"Love how wet you are for me, Slayer. How your heart does that little dance when I'm about to fuck you. How your stomach quivers just there …" He touched a finger down on the trembling flesh between her pubic bone and belly button. "How your lips swell." He gave her a knowing smile. "Both sets of them.

"Love how your pupils dilate, and your eyes turn the most amazing shade of hazel. Did ya know that? Almost looks golden in the candlelight, like there's a demon inside you trying to get out. Does it feel like that? Like I'm about to release the Kraken?"

"You'll probably be the first to know – when your head leaves your shoulders," Buffy challenged in breathless anticipation.

"Mmmm … I can't bloody wait," Spike purred, his eyes widening in delight. "But … I will – wait that is, and so will you," he teased, going back to the slow, sensual, but torturous pumping of his fingers into her.

"You fucking bastard!" Buffy screamed, bucking against him, not caring any longer if it hurt, she just needed MORE! NOW!

"Oh, I'm sorry. Isn't that what you wanted, Slayer?" he asked conversationally. "No pain?

"Tell me what you want. Truth. No lies, Buffy," Spike demanded in a warning tone as his ring caught on her tight band of muscle and tugged as he pulled out of her ass once again.

"I … I want to stake you, you fucking vampire," she gasped out, glaring at him.

Spike smirked and thrust his fingers into her, hard and deep.

Buffy screamed out in simultaneous pain and pleasure as he stretched her, took her. Her body arched and trembled beneath him, her hips jerking against his fingers, fucking him in desperate reply.

"What else, Slayer? Just gonna stake me, are you? No foreplay?" he asked, his voice little more than a growling rumble in his chest.

Buffy forced her eyes open to look at him and shook her head. "No … I'm gonna hurt you."

Spike's eyes flashed momentarily golden, gleaming with demonic power, and he nodded. "Yeah … you promised t' hurt me in our first fight. Said it was gonna hurt a lot, as I recall. Any idea how hard that got me, Slayer? How much I wanted to feel you hurt me? How much I wanted to hurt you?

"Knew then, you were no ordinary Slayer … you'd puzzled it out. Some never do, ya know? Never learn how t' use the pain, how to mete it out, how to take it. You do. You know how to use it, you just don't like to admit it … or you didn't before."

Spike pulled his fingers out of her and seemingly in the next moment he was on top of her, crushing her with his weight, his cock poised at the slick, sweet opening of her quim.

"Open your eyes! Look at me!" he demanded, hovering just above her.

When her eyes opened and locked with his, he slammed forward, burying his cock into her spasming pussy with one brutal, bone-jarring stroke. His pubic bone hammered against her clit and the head of his cock pounded painfully against the opening of her womb. Her yearning, hot channel throbbed around his thick cock, clenching and un-clenching around his shaft, threatening to emasculate him, as a long-needed orgasm shook her body.

Her whole body lurched and shuddered beneath him, shards of biting bliss exploding out in all directions as she came. A long, delirious scream was driven from her throat, emanating from deep inside her, releasing all the pent-up need with ear-shattering force.

"That what ya had in mind, Slayer? Shoving yer pointy stick into me, hard and deep, like this?"

"No, vampire … I was gonna make you … hurt much worse," Buffy challenged, panting for breath. "You haven't even … gotten my attention yet."

"Haven't I, then? Well, have t' work on that, won't I?" Spike taunted, reaching a hand between them and clamping his strong fingers down on her tit roughly. He squeezed and kneaded her soft flesh violently, bruisingly, before focusing on her sensitive nipple, pulling and twisting as he began pounding his cock into her with ruthless, merciless power.

Buffy gasped, her body responding to him – to the pain and the pleasure – trembling and spasming beneath him, betraying her words – he had most assuredly gotten her attention. The razor's edge that he was so good at balancing her on was fast approaching again as he slammed into her, forceful and demanding.

"Beg me, Slayer. Beg me for the pain," Spike growled before leaning forward and biting down on one erect nipple with his human teeth, his cock still thrusting into her, brutal and relentless.

His hips slapped against hers, echoing in the cavernous room. The insistent rhythm was joined by the slick, squelching sound of his cock driving into that wet, hot channel of hers. God, she was so fucking tight – her pussy wrapped around him like a vise, threatening to trap him deep inside. And so hot – Jesus, she might dust him any moment, her fire was so intense. And so goddamned wicked – the demon inside her was filled with a lust the likes of which he'd never felt before, and the woman … oh, the bloody woman, she had even more.

Spike was as wild with lust as she was. He was bent on fucking her in half, on breaking her, on making her scream in tantalizing torture, and beg him to fuck her that much more.

Buffy drew in a long, raspy breath and Spike drove it out of her in short, squeaking grunts of rapture with every thrust. The sounds bursting from her lips nearly drowned out the rhythmic slapping and squishing wetness created by their bodies slamming together. Her body shuddered in frenzied bliss, her toes curling, her arms taught, pulling against her restraints, and just like that she was standing at the precipice again, balanced on the edge of pain and pleasure, caught somewhere in the middle of both.

Buffy hovered there, the razor's edge cutting into her with torturous rapture, unable to fall into the dark abyss or slip back off the bittersweet blade that held her prisoner. Trapped. Trapped between worlds. Trapped between human and demon – walking the tightrope that was a Slayer. Dwelling in death and pain every night, while still living in the light of day, unable to fully embrace either. Death was her gift, but life was her destiny. There was no relief from the constant pressure of both, tugging at her, pulling her apart – human soul and demonic power trapped in an eternal struggle that was a Slayer.

Except here. With Spike she could choose. She could be either – she could be the human, she could be the Slayer – she didn't have to live between them. He would accept either one, she knew. He wouldn't love her less if she made him stop now; he wouldn't love her more if she begged him to hurt her just a little more. He just loved her. Period. Full stop. No matter which road her heart and body took, he would follow.

"Tell me! Tell me what you want, Slayer," he begged her, desperate to take her wherever she wanted to go – waiting for her to tell him what her body and soul needed in this moment.

"Please … hurt me … fuck … Spike! Hurt me! Harder! Please! I need it! Do it, vampire! HURT ME!" she begged, trashing beneath him like a wild animal, bent on … what? Escape? No, that wasn't it at all. Attack? Yes, perhaps that was it. Bent on violence, on pain, on destruction, on devastation.

Release the fucking Kraken!

Spike growled, a thunderous rumbling that shook sand loose from the cavern ceiling. It showered down on them like a gentle mist of parched rain, coating the whole room in a layer of dust.

Spike pulled out of her quivering channel and slid his cock down over her taint to her tight, slick rosebud. He pressed ever-so-slightly against her, just enough to feel her body resist the threatened invasion. His prick was slick with her juices, and they'd been dripping down the crack of her ass for hours, it seemed. He could slide in so easily, but there would be no easy – not now. There would be brutal. There would be pain. And she had to want it.

"Tell me … what you … want," he ground out, barely containing his lust to keep his hips from slamming forward and taking it.

Buffy's heart raced, threatening to pound right out of her chest. She gulped air, as if she'd suddenly been transported to the top of the world, where there simply was no oxygen to be had. After a moment of stillness, the words he said finally registered in her spinning mind, and she opened her eyes.

Her eyes were wild with desire, her whole body flushed with the heat Spike had been pouring over her, her breath was short and shallow, but her words were unmistakable. "Hurt me, vampire … I fucking dare you."

Spike thought he was going to cum in that moment, spill his seed all over her sweet, round ass before ever plowing inside her slick walls.

"Fuck…" he growled, low and deep, and then jerked his hips forward, powering through her body's resistance in one forceful, lust-filled thrust. His cock drove into her, stretching her tight ring of muscle with no mercy, plowing deep inside her, opening her slick walls to his girth, intent on inflicting pain.

Buffy shrieked, her body quivering uncontrollably beneath him as a cacophony of bright, blinding fireworks exploded behind her eyes. She felt herself sliding lengthwise down that razor's edge at warp speed, half consumed by beautiful bliss, half by agony, balancing precariously between the two. Each sensation heightened the rapture of the other, each playing off the other, ricocheting undiluted passion through her as pain and pleasure fought each other for dominance.

Spike slammed into her wildly, taking everything from her, giving her everything she'd asked for, keeping her floating there between worlds, between darkness and light, between life and death, between heaven and hell. She couldn't fall into either and wasn't sure she wanted to. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. How long could she stay here, suspended in such agonizing bliss, before her body shattered into slivers of utter euphoria? She wanted nothing more than to find out.

This place was hers – it was where she belonged – forever living in the cracks between worlds.

She let go then, fully and completely, giving over to the pain, to the pleasure, to the vampire who knew her better than she knew herself. The sharp bliss sliced into her, exposing her soul to the rapturous agony, as she rocketed beyond the edge of the universe into utter oblivion.

Her body convulsed under Spike, her tight ass spasming around his thrusting hardness, trying to pull him deeper, to consume him. She gasped and sucked air in, as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the world to fill her lungs, suddenly forgetting how to exhale. He fought through her body's zenith, determined to keep her on that razor's edge, holding his own release so long that he, too, was in that place between pain and pleasure with her.

Finally, Buffy remembered how to exhale, the air coming out from her lungs in stuttering gasps and squeaks of pleasure, and the blinding lights that had been bursting behind her eyes began to slowly lessen. She remembered how to breathe again as she floated slowly back to Earth as jerking, spasmodic aftershocks shook her body.

"Spike … please … my hands. Need to … touch you! Please, baby!" she begged, rattling the chains that bound her still as she came back to herself.

Drunk on her lust, on her passion, on the very sound of her pleas, Spike quickly found the discarded key that had slid beneath her sweet ass and moved up her body to comply. He reached over to each of the handcuffs in turn and released them, letting her legs fall quivering to the bed on either side of him as her hands came free.

He slid his body back down between her spasming legs and kissed her fervently as their hips shifted, re-aligning. But, before he could find his bliss deep inside her again, Buffy flipped them both over and pinned him beneath her. In the next instant he felt his left hand being snapped into the cuff.

"Bloody hell," he muttered as she grabbed his other wrist and likewise secured it.

"You were right about the pain," Buffy admitted breathlessly, her body still trembling from the trip to the dark side of the moon. She turned and cuffed his ankles, as well, then collapsed atop him bonelessly, her arms and legs having exhausted their ability to function properly for the moment. "I think I want to experiment with that a little … in a minute … or ten."

"Slaaaayer," Spike growled warningly, tugging on the restraints with no better luck than Buffy had had.

"Now, now," she slurred drunkenly, relaxing against his hard, cool body. "You'll get your turn … when my legs start working again."

Spike groaned, lifting his hips in a desperate attempt to find his release which was long overdue.

"Stop moving," Buffy ordered sternly, lifting up to look into his eyes. "I'm in charge now and I say no moving."

Spike glowered at her but subsided as she collapsed back down atop him with a soft sigh, her body heating him all the way to his bones. Spike tried to think of something else, something other than the woman on top of him, other than his painfully, desperately hard cock, other than how much he needed to fill her with his spunk; something other than her screams and gasps, of the way her body jerked and convulsed in pleasure, something other than the sound of her giving herself to him fully, trusting him unconditionally.

It was impossible.

"Bloody hell! Get on with it, then! I'm dyin' here, Slayer!" Spike asserted after a couple of minutes, yanking at the chains again to no avail.

"So impatient to face the Kraken you released," Buffy taunted, blinking her eyes open, still feeling a bit dazed and wobbly as she pushed up to look down at him. "Are you sure you know what you're asking for?"

"Seems like you're stallin'. If ya can't handle it, maybe you should leave it to me, then," Spike taunted, smirking.

"Oh, I can handle it," she asserted, unable to ignore the challenge in his voice, getting down off the bed tentatively, making sure her legs were actually working again, before walking over to the toy chest.

"Let's see now …" she mused, digging through the box of torture devices, weapons, and other, less deadly implements.

She pulled out a riding crop and smacked it down on her palm a couple of times. "Nice. I bet this would leave a mark on that alabaster ass of yours, huh?" she asked. "Would it make you jump when it stung you? Make you beg me to spank you one more time?"

Spike growled and tugged harder at the chains, but to little effect.

"But, then I'd have to turn you over, and I'm really liking the look of your cock all hard and angry like that. I have a couple of ideas – want to put it to good use," she told him, laying the riding crop down.

She dug in the box a bit more, finally pulling out a long, thin strap of leather that was studded with metal snaps all along its length and holding it up for him to see.

"Don't muck around with stuff ya' don't understand, pet," he advised, glaring daggers at her.

"Dawn's not the only one who can read trashy novels," Buffy informed him, stepping back up to the bed. "And Willow isn't the only one who knows how to Google.

"Just how long can a vampire stay hard without his balls turning blue? Do a vampire's balls turn blue? And how do you get such a hard dick in the first place without any circulation?" she wondered, standing over him, dangling the leather cock strap from her fingers threateningly.

"Same way we change our mask from vamp to human and back again, same way we walk and talk and do bloody cartwheels. Demon magic!" Spike informed her. "And, to answer your other question, yes!"

"You do cartwheels?" she asked, amused.

"Not me personally … well, just that once, but that was with that acrobat in Moscow. Bloody amazin' she was. She could touch her—" Spike stopped abruptly and glared at her. "No, I don't do bloody cartwheels!"

Buffy laughed wickedly. "I can't wait to tell Xander that you do cartwheels… and Finn! Do you think I could get a photo to send out with the Christmas cards?"

Spike growled at her, low and dangerous.

"You know, that 'grr-argh' stuff would be a lot more scary if you weren't chained to a bed naked as a jaybird," she informed him still dangling the cock strap above him. She loved how it made him squirm and made his cock twitch. Fucking scrumptious!

"What does that even mean, 'naked as a jaybird'? I mean, I don't think any birds wear clothes in the first place, do they? Not even Big Bird does! So, why a jaybird?" she rambled as she began wrapping the leather around the base of his scrotum and then around his cock, pulling it tight.

"Ow! Yer cutting off my circulation!" he complained, tugging on his bonds vainly.

Buffy snorted. "I think we just established that you don't have any circulation, Spike."

"Well, it pinches," he amended, shifting his hips to try and dissuade her from her task.

"I think that's the point," she informed him, snapping the last of the fasteners in place, then stepping back to admire her work.

His cock stood up like a flagpole, hard and thick, making Buffy's channel throb just at the sight of it. She reached out and grasped the thick column of steely flesh, stroking gently up and down the length of it. Although her hands-on experience with the male reproductive organ could be described as 'limited', she was very sure that Spike's dick would blow the grading curve for the rest of mankind.

And it was hers. He'd said so. All hers. And she intended to put it to good use.

Spike moaned, his hips rising up to meet her hand as it slid slowly back down the hard shaft. "Fuck, Buffy … please," he begged, though it was unclear exactly what he was begging for.

She wondered how long he could stand her fucking him before he succumbed and screamed their safe word at her? She grinned wickedly. One way to find out.

Buffy mounted the bed, throwing one leg over his slim hips, her hot channel poised just above the object of her desire. She leaned down over him, her hands splayed out on his muscular chest, as she gazed deeply into his blue eyes.

"Don't be afraid to scream," she whispered as she plunged down, impaling her body on his sword, with a grunt of effort and a moan of pleasure.

"Bloody fuck…" Spike growled, his hips lifting up of their own accord to meet hers.

His balls constricted painfully but found no avenue for release. He'd been holding back, on the edge of cumming for much, much too long, and her pussy pulsing and squeezing around his prick now was not helping at all.

"Cum, bleed, or blister," Buffy taunted as she began riding him at a gallop, merciless and frantic.

"Oh! Wait! I forgot … I guess your only choices are bleed or blister," she mocked, slamming down on him bruisingly time and again.

"What did you tell me Faith said to you?" Buffy asked rhetorically as she rode his cock like a prized stallion. "'Ride you at a gallop until your legs buckle and your eyes roll up? Squeeze you until you pop like warm champagne, and make you beg me to hurt you just a little bit more?' Was that it?"

"Fuck, Slayer … You're bloody killin' me here!" Spike complained, jerking on the chains around his wrists.

"I haven't even begun to kill you, Spike," Buffy replied, tossing his own words back at him, slowing her movements, her hips grinding in slow, deliberate circles against his.

"Are you ready to beg me to hurt you just a little bit more yet?" she wondered, lifting up and slamming down hard, then squeezing her throbbing, supple walls tight around his aching flesh.

"Arrrrgh! Fuck! Yes … hurt me … more," Spike growled out, his demon rising. Spike's hands clenched into fists, his eyes closed against the painful pleasure of her torture, and the demon bellowed wordless snarls of rage.

"I bet I can do one better than Faith. I can make you beg me to stop," Buffy challenged breathlessly as she began building the tempo, squeezing her inner muscles hard around Spike's yearning cock. She slid her hot, slick channel up and down his thick shaft, faster and faster, plunging down on him like a jack-hammer.

"Never happen, you bloody, evil bitch!" Spike roared at her through his fangs, fighting against his chains, trying to buck her off his hips, but that only fueled her desire – and his.

"Yeah, Slayer, remember? Evil. I eat vampire dust for breakfast!"

She slid her hands from his hard abdomen to his pecs and rolled his nipples painfully between her fingers.

"Beg me!" Buffy demanded, slamming against him.

"Not. Bloody. Likely!" Spike growled between clenched teeth, his yellow demon-eyes flashing with fury. Despite his bravado, one small, still-functioning part of his brain was afraid that his balls would explode, and not in a good way.

"Tell me what it feels like to be inside me," she commanded, squeezing her channel even harder around his shaft as she plowed down on him.

"Bloody … fuck …" Spike gasped.

"Tell me!"

"Hell … heaven … fire … ice … death … life … Arrrgghhhh! Fuck! Buffy! Effulgent!" he shrieked past his fangs in tortured rapture, feeling like he was going to be ripped apart, blown into a million little pieces, any moment if he couldn't empty his aching balls and shoot his spunk into her.

"Oooo, I like that, Spike. I'm gonna fuck you all night, all day. Take you to heaven and hell over and over," Buffy moaned, squeezing around his thick cock and pumping her hips against him, building her own lust back up, rising back to the edge of the world so she could jump off again.

"How many times do you think I can cum in one day? And just how many times can you? Oh, wait! I know the answer to that one – zero. Zero cums for the evil vampire. Just frustration and pain.

"You're right, Spike … I do like pain," she taunted, letting her head loll back and her eyes flutter closed as she rode him up to heaven.

"I'm gonna fuck you in half, you bitch!" he growled at her. "Fill every one of you holes with my jizz, leave you drippin' like a bloody fuck toy when I get loose!"

"Oh, yeah … talk dirty to me, Spike. Tell me how you're gonna hurt me, how you're gonna fuck me … that makes me so hot," she moaned, letting herself get lost in the pleasure of his body beneath hers, in the sound of his growling rumble, and the bliss of his cock filling her.

God, she loved his cock … the rest of him was pretty damn hot too, but that cock was divine. A work of art. A masterpiece. He could be hard in an instant and stay that way seemingly at will. And, God, did he know how to use it. His spunk was sweet and spicy, and burned her to her core – just like him. She couldn't get enough of it. She loved tasting their combined cum on his flesh, it was like tasting heaven. More than once she'd eagerly sucked him dry just a short while after he'd spilled his nuts into her pussy, and having his spunk sliding down her throat just made her want him again.

Buffy bucked against him, impaling herself on his hard, thick shaft, hammering her hips down to pound her clit against his pubic bone. She reached back behind her and cupped his swollen, tortured balls in her palm as she announced, "Cumming … God … fuck … cumming! Yessssssss!"

Her hips jerked against him of their own accord, driving his cock into her deep and fast as she felt the world explode and fall away, leaving her floating among the stars again, the sound of his growling frustration immersing her in trembling waves of pleasure.

She squeezed and pinched her nipples as she came, heightening the sensation. Her back bowed into an impossible arch, every muscle in her body constricting in excruciating pleasure. Buffy's long cry of release echoed off the walls as her hips churned down, fucking him, taking him. She used every inch of that amazing column of cold, hard flesh to build her fires into erupting volcanos that threatened to consume her.

When the spasm of rapture released her, she fell forward, catching herself with her hands braced against Spike's chest. Her head lolled forward as she gasped for air to replenish the oxygen in her trembling muscles. Her short, disheveled hair hung down across her face, the sparkling combs that had been holding it back when the night began having been long lost. Her body continued to quake in pleasure atop him as she gulped air, her hips slowing, riding his dick gently now, but not stopping.

"You want more? Beg me for it…" she breathed, her eyes turned to that shade of hazel that made Spike see the demon in her and a delicious quiver of fear raced down his spine.

When he didn't answer, she clamped her channel down around him painfully. "BEG ME!" she demanded.

"FUCK! BUFFY … MORE! YOU GODDAMNED BITCH! MORE!"

Buffy shivered, her body trembling with need just from his words. More. Fucking vampire. He wanted pain? She'd show him pain. She'd break him, he would beg her to stop. He would fucking beg.

Buffy lifted up off him and then slowly slid forward just the slightest bit, his cock slipping over her slick taint and coming to rest at the opening of her ass again.

Buffy bit her bottom lip and pressed down slowly, feeling his cum-slick cock stretch her again, opening her, filling her with trembling ecstasy. She gasped as his glans slipped inside, her tight ring of muscle closing around it, squeezing around the base of his knob like a vise.

"Fuck … Buffy … fucking Christ," he moaned, not sure if he wanted her to stop or keep going. His balls were aching – no, it was more than that, a lot more. They felt like someone had stomped on them, put them through a meat grinder, stuffed them inside a thimble, and then set them on fire.

He had to cum. Oh, God, he needed to cum. It wasn't optional; it wasn't a superficial desire. It was a basic, fundamental necessity. If she fucked him like this again – up that tight ass of hers – he would burst into flames and dust on the spot. On the plus side, his balls would stop hurting.

"You like that? Does it hurt?" she asked him, pressing down more, slowly taking him into her, making sure he felt every quiver of her body, every throb of desire, every pulse of her heart. His rock-hard cock swept her body's resistance aside, once again opening her slick, hot walls to his invading desire. "Don't you want to cum in my ass, Spike? Wouldn't that feel good? To fill me up with your spunk?"

"FUCK…" Spike groaned, his arms and legs pulling desperately against the restraints, muscles bulging with the effort.

"Oh, poor baby, you need me to fuck you harder? Is that it? You need to be deeper inside me, don't you? Need to feel my body surrender to you again? Beg me…" she taunted him.

Buffy began to pump up and down on his shaft, slowly at first, but taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust until the globes of her ass hit his lap. The pain remained extraordinary; the pleasure divine. Her body reveled in both, now fully aware of where it could take her and wanting nothing more than to return to that nirvana that existed between worlds.

Release the fucking Kraken … again.

Buffy lifted up and slammed back down on him, sending shards of painful pleasure shooting out in all directions. "Fuck! Yes!" she screamed, raising up again and coming down, driving his cock into her brutally.

"Arrrggghhh! Fuck!" she shrieked as she lifted up once again, ready to send herself hurtling back into the rapturous depths of the pain that he'd shown her.

"Pickles! Fucking pickles!" Spike screamed before she took him again. His yellow eyes actually rolling back in his head as she pushed him beyond anything he'd ever felt before. Pain and pleasure meshed into a fog of complete and utter euphoria that he was sure would end him right there.

His demon retreated then, defeated, leaving the man to face this madness alone.

Buffy reached back to quickly unsnap the strap that had pinched off his means of release, freeing his balls and cock from the restraint. In the next instant, she plunged back down on him, driving a scream of rapturous agony from her own lips. Then she began fucking him hard and fast, driving through the pain into the ecstasy, her resisting, spasming walls throbbing with need around his prick.

"Cum … cum … cum in me. Fill my ass up, you bastard," she demanded, but it wasn't necessary.

Spike screamed – not growled, not roared, screamed— exploding into her burning inferno of lust. His cold, desperate seed rocketed out, battering her ass in a frantic surge of orgasmic bliss as his balls erupted like a long dormant volcano. And it just kept coming – a seemingly never-ending torrent of bliss, lifting him higher and higher into the stratosphere. The relief was overwhelming, overpowering almost to the point of being unbearable. He shuddered and jerked beneath her, his body completely out of his control and fully in hers. He'd never been rocked so hard, never hurt so much, never burned so passionately in the fires of rapture.

Spike felt like he was whirling through space, spinning out of control, falling and soaring, being consumed from the inside by a burning sun. He'd never before felt anything more unbearably, horribly, catastrophically blissful. The darkness within seemed to vanish completely for an instant, burned away by the passion of the woman who tortured him into submission.

Never before. Never had he completely submitted to anyone or anything in a century of unlife. Not like this. Not Dru. Not Darla. Not even Angelus had driven him to complete and utter surrender.

Only his Slayer. Only Buffy. She made him want to surrender, to give himself to her, to bow at her feet and be her willing slave. Forever.

Slowly returning to Earth, Spike's eyes finally fluttered open, gradually focusing on the angel above him. Her eyes were soft, concerned, but still dark and dilated with pleasure, that small glow of hazel just barely visible at the edges. Her face was flushed bright pink, and heat radiated off her like a blazing fire.

"God, that was fucking incredible," she approved breathlessly, before asking, "Are you okay?" as she gently laid her palm on his cheek.

Spike closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, nodding slowly. "Brilliant," he mumbled dazedly.

"The word was 'Siberian Pickles'," she reminded him with a small smile.

Spike nodded again, his eyelids too heavy to lift open. "Not enough blood in m' brain t' remember it," he admitted. "Best find somethin' shorter in the future."

"You scream like a girl," she continued teasing him lightly.

Spike opened one eye, all he had energy for, and glared at her. "You would too if someone had yer balls in a bloody vise," he retorted bitterly.

A sympathetic laugh rumbled in her chest, as she laid her body down atop him. She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled her over-heated skin against his coolness. She could feel his spunk beginning to slip past his spent, softening cock, leaking from her blissfully battered ass. The pain still lingered – she was sure it would for a while – tingling her body with the carnality of it, and she shivered with pleasure.

"You eat vampire dust for breakfast?" he teased. "That go on yer Wheaties or—?"

Buffy chuckled, her body jiggling lightly atop his. She definitely needed to work on her vampire torturing taunts. "It sounded more sinister and way less gross in my head," she admitted.

"I love you," she whispered, letting her eyes fall closed.

"Good thing. Hate t' see what you'd do to me if ya still hated me," he replied, trying to wrap his arms around her, but being thwarted by the chains.

Buffy tittered a muffled laugh. "Pain and torture and mind-blowing sex is really exhausting," she mumbled dreamily, relaxing fully atop him.

"Uhh … Slayer?" Spike questioned, rattling the chains. "Little help here."

There was no reply from the prone form atop him.

"Buffy? The chains."

Nothing but slow, steady breathing met him in response.

"Siberian Pickles?" he tried.

Buffy might've snored a little then.

Spike rolled his eyes and stopped rattling the chains.

"I love you, too, you bloody wicked woman," he sighed, closing his eyes and getting lost in the warmth of her body against him, which almost made up for leaving him in chains.

Almost.

Okay, that's a lie. Spike would lay chained on a bed of nails with fire ants crawling all over him, and Angelus singing Barry Manilow's greatest hits at the top of his lungs in the next room if it meant being with Buffy. He only wished he could wrap her in his arms and hold her through the night now, but he relished every moment with her – every second of pain, every rapturous epoch of pleasure, every gentle kiss and tender touch, every 'I love you' – and wouldn't trade it for anything, no matter what.

She knew him like no one else ever had or would; and he knew her to the depths of her soul – her darkness and her light. He was convinced that they were made for each other, two puzzle pieces, which fit together perfectly, seamlessly, inseparably.

Two pieces of one whole that nothing in heaven or Earth could pull asunder.

**END NOTES**

Oh my … was that last line a challenge?

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're still enjoying the story. Please stop in and let me know, I'd seriously love to hear from you! Lots more to come.

Thanks also to my wonderful friend, PaganBaby, for sharing her talents with me. Her beta skillz are the fantabulous - any mistakes here are mine because I just can't stop fiddling!

Her banner-making skillz are equally marvelous! I can't thank her enough for doing them for me! Love them! She totally rocks it!