*****
Chapter 19: Unwelcome Visitor
*****
Andrea let her eyelids flicker open and gave a contented sigh as she came fully awake. Spike's arms were around her, his chest pressed up against her back.
"You awake, love?" he asked softly, kissing the creamy skin on her shoulder.
"Yeah." She turned in his arms to face him. He gently brushed a few stray hairs off of her cheek. She lightly let her fingers roam over his features, over the tip of his nose. He pressed his fingertips into the skin above her hip bone and she giggled involuntarily, causing him to arch an eyebrow.
"Did I find a ticklish spot?" he asked, feigning amazement.
"Maybe," she admitted timidly. He gently pinched her there again and she swatted at his hand. "Stop it."
"Oh, looky, everyone. Slayer's got a ticklish spot." She eyed his wearily.
"Oh, no, you don't." She screamed when he held her against him, unable to defend herself properly as he nipped the sensitive skin near her hip. She frantically tried to push him away, laughing and squeaking breathlessly. Andrea pushed against his chest, trying her hardest to get off the sarcophagus and away from Spike. "Stop, stop, stop." He ignored her pleas, laughing at the lame attempts to remove herself from his embrace. "Spike you're a huge jerk," she laughed, "and I'm gunna make you pay for this."
"Oh, really, pet? How's that?" She flipped him onto his back, straddling him, pretty much confirming his suspicions that if getting tickled really bothered her that much, she would have stopped him. She pinned his wrists above his head, leaning close to him. She was a fraction of an inch away from kissing him when she took both his wrists in one hand, her other hand moving somewhere beyond his vision. Andrea's free hand returned, a single white feather held in her grasp. He swallowed in anticipation. "Where'd you get that?" he asked, eyeing the feather wearily. She smirked.
"Out of your pillow."
"What are you gunna do?"
"We're gunna have a little fun, Spike," she whispered sexily against his neck. She leaned down next to the sarcophagus and scooped his belt up off the floor, then used it to bind his hands above his head. Andrea trailed the feather over his cheekbones, then his nose. She used the tip of it to tickle his lips, then dragged it down his throat. She took her time, making sure not to miss an inch of his hard flesh. By the time she reached his bellybutton, he was gasping in arousal. He begged her to stop, it was too much.
"Alright, you win," he groaned as she dragged the feather lightly down his abdomen. His eyes drifted shut as she moved the tortuous device lower, but instead of turning her attention to the most obvious spot, he felt the feather graze the sole of his foot. He jerked against the belt binding his hands together. "For God's sake, woman. Have mercy." She laughed and inched the feather slowly up his legs to his muscled thighs. "Bloody hell," he cursed, when instead of trailing the feather up the length of him, she took him in the satiny heat of her mouth. He trembled as orgasm neared.
"Spike," she murmured.
"What?" he growled, tossing his forearm over his blue eyes.
"Come for me."
* * *
"Remind me never to make you mad," Spike joked, dragging her up his body to kiss her passionately. She smiled against his lips. He probed her lips with his tongue, asking permission to deepen the kiss. Andrea submissively parted her lips, eager to let him delve into the silky heat of her mouth. "Or maybe I should piss you off more often." She dragged her teeth over his bottom lip.
"Maybe." They heard a low growling sound and she laughed softly against his lips.
"Hungry, pet?"
"Maybe a little. It comes from having hot, mindless sex all day with an incredibly sexy vampire without eating anything. Food wise." He laughed and slipped off the sarcophagus, moving to the fridge on the other side of the room. She wrapped herself in a bed sheet toga-style and joined him.
"I don't have much in the way of food, but I do stock up on fruit when I can." He opened the refrigerator, tossing a smooth red apple in her direction. She caught it out of the air.
"Thanks." She took a bite of it as Spike pulled a cup of blood from the fridge. Jill gave a quick purr and jumped onto the counter, gazing at them expectantly.
"Sorry, kitten. Don't have any milk. Not used to having animals in my crypt. I'll try to make it a little more cat friendly for the next time you visit." He gave her a friendly scratch under the chin and she meowed forgivingly.
"What time do you think it is?" Andrea asked suddenly. She hadn't had a chance to grab her watch of the dresser at home with all the chaotic running from demons. Spike walked to the heavy door of the crypt and opened it tentatively, prepared to be bombarded by sunlight. Cool moonlight bathed the floor of the crypt, stars twinkling in the night sky.
"Guess it's pretty late."
"Think it's safe to go back to my place?" she asked softly.
"Don't know. We should probably take a sweep around the cemetery. Look for anything unusual."
"Like jerks with ritualistic junk?" she suggested helpfully. He rolled his eyes and shot her a crooked smile.
"Sure, love." He strode to the sarcophagus and yanked on his wrinkled jeans. "Get dressed and we'll go patrol." She thrust her lower lip out in a ridiculous pout.
"I don't wanna leave. I can think of so many much more. . .enjoyable ways to spend my nights. And days. And all the times." He chuckled softly and tossed her discarded clothing at her. She started to dress, then looked around. "Have you seen my underwear?" she asked.
"Nope," he lied. He'd stuffed the lace bikinis underneath his pillow when she was asleep. She shrugged and pulled on her jeans. She tied her shoes as Spike moved to the door. He stepped outside, and then reappeared again, attached by the throat to the Mellora demon's gigantic arm. "Little help here, please," he rasped. Andrea took a running jump and knocked the demon over, forcing it to release Spike. She gave it a killer right hook to the jawbone, scraping her knuckles on the rough flesh. Spike kicked it in the temple. It roared angrily and began to form a fireball.
"Spike, get down!" Andrea yelled as the demon tossed a flame toward her lover. He rolled to the ground to dodge it. The demon kicked her in the chest, sending her flying to the other side of the room. She hit the hard stonewall and sank painfully to the floor. When she managed to rise, grasping her ribs and stumble forward, the demon had Spike in a headlock, its other hand holding a ball of fire.
"I'll shove this into his heart," the demon threatened. Andrea hesitated. "Come with me willingly and I let him live."
"Andrea, no," Spike pleaded. "He'll kill you if you go." He yelled in pain when the demon tightened its hold on his neck.
"No, don't hurt him," Andrea screamed, taking a step toward him. "I'll go with you."
"You have made a wise choice."
"No, Andrea, don't do it. Don't be stupid. The ritual ends the world."
"I know that, Spike. I can handle this." She turned to the demon. "Let him go."
"Step outside," it commanded. She complied. The demon dragged Spike outside with it, then tossed him back into the crypt. It grabbed hold of Andrea.
"No," Spike screamed, running toward the door of the crypt. Andrea raised a hand, magically forming a barrier around the crypt that he couldn't get through. It would wear off soon, but at least he was safe for now. The demon dragged her through the cemetery, pressing a pressure point on her neck. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was Spike frantically trying to break the shield and follow them.
Andrea let her eyelids flicker open and gave a contented sigh as she came fully awake. Spike's arms were around her, his chest pressed up against her back.
"You awake, love?" he asked softly, kissing the creamy skin on her shoulder.
"Yeah." She turned in his arms to face him. He gently brushed a few stray hairs off of her cheek. She lightly let her fingers roam over his features, over the tip of his nose. He pressed his fingertips into the skin above her hip bone and she giggled involuntarily, causing him to arch an eyebrow.
"Did I find a ticklish spot?" he asked, feigning amazement.
"Maybe," she admitted timidly. He gently pinched her there again and she swatted at his hand. "Stop it."
"Oh, looky, everyone. Slayer's got a ticklish spot." She eyed his wearily.
"Oh, no, you don't." She screamed when he held her against him, unable to defend herself properly as he nipped the sensitive skin near her hip. She frantically tried to push him away, laughing and squeaking breathlessly. Andrea pushed against his chest, trying her hardest to get off the sarcophagus and away from Spike. "Stop, stop, stop." He ignored her pleas, laughing at the lame attempts to remove herself from his embrace. "Spike you're a huge jerk," she laughed, "and I'm gunna make you pay for this."
"Oh, really, pet? How's that?" She flipped him onto his back, straddling him, pretty much confirming his suspicions that if getting tickled really bothered her that much, she would have stopped him. She pinned his wrists above his head, leaning close to him. She was a fraction of an inch away from kissing him when she took both his wrists in one hand, her other hand moving somewhere beyond his vision. Andrea's free hand returned, a single white feather held in her grasp. He swallowed in anticipation. "Where'd you get that?" he asked, eyeing the feather wearily. She smirked.
"Out of your pillow."
"What are you gunna do?"
"We're gunna have a little fun, Spike," she whispered sexily against his neck. She leaned down next to the sarcophagus and scooped his belt up off the floor, then used it to bind his hands above his head. Andrea trailed the feather over his cheekbones, then his nose. She used the tip of it to tickle his lips, then dragged it down his throat. She took her time, making sure not to miss an inch of his hard flesh. By the time she reached his bellybutton, he was gasping in arousal. He begged her to stop, it was too much.
"Alright, you win," he groaned as she dragged the feather lightly down his abdomen. His eyes drifted shut as she moved the tortuous device lower, but instead of turning her attention to the most obvious spot, he felt the feather graze the sole of his foot. He jerked against the belt binding his hands together. "For God's sake, woman. Have mercy." She laughed and inched the feather slowly up his legs to his muscled thighs. "Bloody hell," he cursed, when instead of trailing the feather up the length of him, she took him in the satiny heat of her mouth. He trembled as orgasm neared.
"Spike," she murmured.
"What?" he growled, tossing his forearm over his blue eyes.
"Come for me."
* * *
"Remind me never to make you mad," Spike joked, dragging her up his body to kiss her passionately. She smiled against his lips. He probed her lips with his tongue, asking permission to deepen the kiss. Andrea submissively parted her lips, eager to let him delve into the silky heat of her mouth. "Or maybe I should piss you off more often." She dragged her teeth over his bottom lip.
"Maybe." They heard a low growling sound and she laughed softly against his lips.
"Hungry, pet?"
"Maybe a little. It comes from having hot, mindless sex all day with an incredibly sexy vampire without eating anything. Food wise." He laughed and slipped off the sarcophagus, moving to the fridge on the other side of the room. She wrapped herself in a bed sheet toga-style and joined him.
"I don't have much in the way of food, but I do stock up on fruit when I can." He opened the refrigerator, tossing a smooth red apple in her direction. She caught it out of the air.
"Thanks." She took a bite of it as Spike pulled a cup of blood from the fridge. Jill gave a quick purr and jumped onto the counter, gazing at them expectantly.
"Sorry, kitten. Don't have any milk. Not used to having animals in my crypt. I'll try to make it a little more cat friendly for the next time you visit." He gave her a friendly scratch under the chin and she meowed forgivingly.
"What time do you think it is?" Andrea asked suddenly. She hadn't had a chance to grab her watch of the dresser at home with all the chaotic running from demons. Spike walked to the heavy door of the crypt and opened it tentatively, prepared to be bombarded by sunlight. Cool moonlight bathed the floor of the crypt, stars twinkling in the night sky.
"Guess it's pretty late."
"Think it's safe to go back to my place?" she asked softly.
"Don't know. We should probably take a sweep around the cemetery. Look for anything unusual."
"Like jerks with ritualistic junk?" she suggested helpfully. He rolled his eyes and shot her a crooked smile.
"Sure, love." He strode to the sarcophagus and yanked on his wrinkled jeans. "Get dressed and we'll go patrol." She thrust her lower lip out in a ridiculous pout.
"I don't wanna leave. I can think of so many much more. . .enjoyable ways to spend my nights. And days. And all the times." He chuckled softly and tossed her discarded clothing at her. She started to dress, then looked around. "Have you seen my underwear?" she asked.
"Nope," he lied. He'd stuffed the lace bikinis underneath his pillow when she was asleep. She shrugged and pulled on her jeans. She tied her shoes as Spike moved to the door. He stepped outside, and then reappeared again, attached by the throat to the Mellora demon's gigantic arm. "Little help here, please," he rasped. Andrea took a running jump and knocked the demon over, forcing it to release Spike. She gave it a killer right hook to the jawbone, scraping her knuckles on the rough flesh. Spike kicked it in the temple. It roared angrily and began to form a fireball.
"Spike, get down!" Andrea yelled as the demon tossed a flame toward her lover. He rolled to the ground to dodge it. The demon kicked her in the chest, sending her flying to the other side of the room. She hit the hard stonewall and sank painfully to the floor. When she managed to rise, grasping her ribs and stumble forward, the demon had Spike in a headlock, its other hand holding a ball of fire.
"I'll shove this into his heart," the demon threatened. Andrea hesitated. "Come with me willingly and I let him live."
"Andrea, no," Spike pleaded. "He'll kill you if you go." He yelled in pain when the demon tightened its hold on his neck.
"No, don't hurt him," Andrea screamed, taking a step toward him. "I'll go with you."
"You have made a wise choice."
"No, Andrea, don't do it. Don't be stupid. The ritual ends the world."
"I know that, Spike. I can handle this." She turned to the demon. "Let him go."
"Step outside," it commanded. She complied. The demon dragged Spike outside with it, then tossed him back into the crypt. It grabbed hold of Andrea.
"No," Spike screamed, running toward the door of the crypt. Andrea raised a hand, magically forming a barrier around the crypt that he couldn't get through. It would wear off soon, but at least he was safe for now. The demon dragged her through the cemetery, pressing a pressure point on her neck. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was Spike frantically trying to break the shield and follow them.