A Serendipitous Beginning Interlude II:
by
Lisa Y. Drexel
Chapter Two
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Finally...
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As the bedroom door clicked and closed shut behind him, Spike's eyes immediately sought out and found Mike—asleep on the bed.
His eyes traveled the long length of a pale leg that was hanging out of the covers and he sighed softly as he felt his cock stir. Ignoring his rising desire, he stood there, leaning against the door and just watched her.
It had been so long since he had indulged himself in this particular activity.
Besides, he wanted to give himself a bit more to time to acclimate himself with her, their relationship and the obvious consequences that renewing their intimacy would incur.
And yes, there would be consequences, of that Spike was sure. Whether it would be the reactions of his mortal friends, the prolonging of his own grief over Buffy's death or something entirely different, Spike didn't know.
But what he did know was that making love to Mike now was nothing like when he had made love to her before.
Both of them were far more cognitive of their actions and the intimacy involved now than they had been that first night all those years ago. Smiling to himself, he could still picture her sitting at the bar at Wolf's Bane—looking lost and hurt, seemingly searching for the answers of her life in a shot glass filled with Jack Daniel's. The way her throat had moved as she drank down each glass full of that amber liquor. The look of bliss that had crossed her face as she felt the alcohol rush through her body. And that hair—that's what had caught his attention at first. It was like the sun—unending and full of life. At that moment, more than anything, all he had wanted to do was touch it and find out if it was as soft and luxurious as it was inviting.
All she had been to him when he bought her that drink, when he nudged the mortal out of the seat next to her so that he could get a better look at her, was a means to an end: a quick fuck and feed.
My, how things change.
Mike had changed him.
Mike's love, blood and essence had made him in the same way that Angelus' desire, possessiveness and lust had made him over 200 years before.
It still blew Spike away. In concept, he had long ago accepted that Mike was his sire of sorts, but he never really felt it. Not like he felt it with Angelus. Maybe it was because Spike still had enough of that demon in him that insisted that siring included blood, sex and domination in that order—something which Mike had never seen a need for—considering that she was, for all purposes, human. But as he stood there at the threshold of their bedroom and could feel the rush of errant emotions and fleeting thoughts emanating from her, he could no longer deny it.
She was his sire.
And as her childe, it was it up to him to make her feel better. It was his duty and his love for her that demanded it.
Well, when you put it that way, Spike thought to himself. I have no problem doing what needs to be done.
Chuckling at his silliness, Spike pushed himself off the door and began to strip.
He could do this. What the hell was he talking about? He wanted to do this!
After shucking off his jeans and pulling off his shirt, he slowly made his way to the bed. He sat down on its edge and gently caressed her cheek. When she pressed her face against him, it felt like his whole body came alive.
One simple gesture and he was toast.
Grinning, he scooted underneath the sheet and gently took her into his arms. Her body molded itself around him. As his fingers traced her back, he felt a wave of love and need from her fill him. As he rolled them over, he felt her stir, finally waking up. By the time he began raining kisses onto her face, she was moaning his name.
He quickly pulled off her nightshirt and sighed softly at the sight of her lovely breasts.
"Spike?" she whispered, her eyebrows creased in confusion.
He looked up and met her questioning gaze with a gentle smile. "Let me do this for you, Mike," he said as his fingers found one of her breasts and pinched her nipple.
As she arched her back into his touch, she whimpered softly, shaking her head. "I don't—I—"
"Shhh, I want to make love to you," he said right before he dipped his head and ran his cool tongue across her neck to her ear. "I want to hear you scream...and cum...let me," he whispered in her ear right before her nicked her with his fangs. "Will you let me?" He lifted his head to watch her face.
Her gray eyes filled with tears as she nodded yes.
One of her hands clutched his hair as the other skimmed his back. Groaning, he felt his cock harden even more as he pushed against her. God, it had been so long since he'd been with her—holding her—reveling in her warmth. Her rapid heartbeat drummed into his ears—her unique scent filled his body. Growling softly, he kissed her, nicking her mouth with his razor sharp fangs as his other hand slipped down to her bush and tickled her hair.
As her blood hit his taste buds, his mind splintered and suddenly he was surrounded by Mike. Only Mike. He could hear her thoughts, feel her pain and need for him as if it were his own. At that moment, he had no idea where she ended and where he began.
They—together—just were.
Growling, he felt the remnants of his demon scream that he had to claim her once again—make her his and this time never let her go.
His soul soared at the ecstasy of being rejoined with its mate.
And he—what made Spike Spike, be it the demon, the mortal or Souled One, was in total agreement with other parts of himself.
He was home.
This was where he needed to be.
Will...I missed you...
Mike... he whispered in her mind.
And then, just when he didn't think that anything else could surprise him, he felt that tendril of Buffy—that part of his slayer that he had lost when she had died—fill him. Her love and joy mixed in with Mike's undying love and devotion drove him to tears.
Crying, he slipped his tongue in Mike's mouth, their saliva and Mike's blood pooling in their mouths, he knew that this was what he had needed all along. His free hand moved down to her slit and entered her. Mike's mind screamed yes as he could feel his lover approaching her climax. Her incoherent babblings filled his mind as her groans sang through the air. Slipping two more fingers inside her, and using his thumb to titillate her clit, he forcefully bit her tongue, stilling it as he drew her blood and pushed her over the precipice.
Her sex squeezed his fingers as her body tensed underneath him. Not even breaking the kiss, he quickly removed his fingers and slipped his aching cock inside her, causing her to spasm once again.
Remembering Vachon's words, Spike finally let go of her tongue and lifted his mouth from hers as he began taking her hard—slamming her into the bed. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck as he felt himself getting close to climaxing himself and slipped his fangs into her neck.
Her blood—her sweet blood filled him—joining him to her—their minds met and embraced one another as his cock finally exploded, triggering yet another orgasm from her.
When he finally stilled, his teeth still embedded in her neck, he realized her heartbeat was slowing.
Not even a moment later, she died in his arms.
It wasn't until then, that Spike removed his fangs and allowed his face to change back.
For nearly an hour he held her cooling body to his while he waited for her to revive, finally drifting off to sleep when he could no longer keep his eyes open.
And not until he was nearly asleep did he realize that he finally felt whole. After six long years, he was whole.
And so was Mike.