Kindred
By Sweetprincipale
Dedicated to: stuff'n'nonsense, kyanaM, sjwheelhan, Darkhrt101,Mother Willson, 666, pgoodrichboggs, jbu1810, Slayerette16, Pentastic, Jackiemack916,The Three March Hares, omslagspapper, Teatime Turbulence, Brokenblackrose89, subchan, squeeface, and the kind guest reviewers (particularly the one who had a birthday today). Also, thank you to the kind readers who are continuing to buy my original fiction on Amazon (S.C. Principale). All the wordy hugs ;)
Author's Note: There is awkward, smutty, loving, mushy stuff. You have been warned. Also, if you are going to get impatient about when our duo finally "go all the way" you will need to wait, because there is something significant involved that I will not spoiler. Just saying, patience is a virtue (that I barely have), but please try to give our guys some slack. Remember, to Buffy, it's been days. To us, it's been months of chapters.
Part XII
Hands under her shirt, slipped up tenderly in the well-lit room. He could see her better now, in light, in colors highlighted by bedside lamps instead of shadow-throwing candles. Beautiful creams and copper, and rose and blushes. Pretty pink bra with lace trim. He paused. "I'm not heart smart, you know? B'lieve I said somethin' to that effect once, about love isn't brains."
"I think you are way smarter than anyone else I've ever met when it comes to love. Especially me." She gave a sudden convulsive shiver. "I'm scared."
"Of me? Again?" Spike arched an eyebrow. "This is gettin' a bit old, surely."
"Love hurts me." She gave a small, defensive shrug.
"Ah. Hurts me, too."
"I know. I saw."
"I saw, too." He was good at comforting Dru. He wasn't sure how he did this with her. But I should know. I should be the bloody expert. What do I do?
"This is where you say something reassuring," she prompted.
"Do I do the bit where I promise to be gentle?"
"Only if you want me to worry about your mental health. More than I already do," she managed to crack a tiny joke.
"Well, I promise not to hurt. Can't."
Oh, you could. I heal fast, unless it's the inside. Hence… tiredness. Death wish. No one else admits that. Not even me."
"No one else who loves you would admit it. They can't bear it. But they don't realize it - you gotta face it, it's the only way to put it back in its place. Death is your gift. You own it. It doesn't own you."
Not exactly reassuring, Buffy thought. But somehow very reenergizing. "It's not going to get me."
"No," he had to say it. The world without her in it- didn't work anymore.
"But you've got me."
"And you've got me. Think you had me for a long time." He took charge of her hands, grabbing one on either side, tangling them until she was sliding off his shirt, and their hands teased over skin. "But I'd love it if you had me some more. Took me a little deeper."
"Deeper?"
"I've been in your head. In your bloodstream. Aren't I good guest?"
"Imperfectly perfect," she easily admitted. She licked her lips. "Did you see everything I saw in the dream?"
"Not sure. What'd you see?'
"Huge bed? Fancy?"
"Ruddy massive. Saw that. Maybe that bit was symbolic," he winked.
"No, that part would just be accurate." Her hand flicked over his belt buckle and he let out a noise, a sizzling sound through locked jaws. "Hurts?"
"Not exactly. Wants you."
"Then let's make sure he gets me."
He reached around her, undid the bra catches with practiced flicks that left her blushing for a split second, then too busy moaning to care.
"So tight these are." He took each nipple into his mouth in turn, watching the skin wrinkle up around them, almost doubling the height. "That's gotta pinch a bit."
"In a nice way," she laughed.
"You that tight in there? Hurts?" he asked between long, burning suckles that only made the throbbing sensation worse. "I've been aching ever since we started this." Probably longer. Maybe since the first time I fought with her, saw her move, and wondered- just for a second, what other moves she might have.
"Not sure about - tight- but yes. Hurts."
"I'm not supposed to cause you pain. Better fix it. How do I loosen you up?"
"Not sure about that, either." Her back arched up as his hand slid down. Pressed right between her legs and held still, like he was trying to feel something in particular.
"You're on fire. Boilin'," he sounded awed. "I never- not that I am- not that we-"
"You never what?" Buffy asked with sudden trepidation.
He didn't answer.
"Spike? I'm not- like, I'm not saying I'm Miss Prim and Proper, I'm just not chock full of variety. Yet. So, maybe you could keep this to a- a creative beginner's level? For now?" The fear of not being good enough came back. What did he want to do with her that he'd never done with a century of sex behind him? It had to be something pretty crazy or maybe -
"Dru was my first love. Of the physical variety. Humans were not my bedfellows. So- I never. Made love with one. I think you'll scald me, Precious, in a very good way."
"Oh. Oh. But- hang on. I know I love you. Weird to say out loud." She composed her misfiring speech. "I don't know if I want to- do that. Until it's been a little longer. I'm not trying to hurt you! Not trying to play head games. I swear, Spike."
"No, that's clear." He gave her a sweet smile. "You radiate the stuff. Love. All the touches. The fright in your eyes. The way you hunch up your shoulders when you talk about it- like you're fending off a blow, protecting the vital organs. Guarding the heart." He reached out and kneaded one of those tight shoulders gently. "It says that you have it all to give, and someone took it- threw it back at you, and now you're afraid to share it again. You hug it up close. The only reason you're lettin' me in so early is because you know me, through our connection, and you can tell it's safe."
Safe. Not in the Slayer's vocabulary. Not in a vampire's, either. "There's still a lot of loving we can do, right?"
"Hours' worth."
Slid down her pants. Slid down his. Lay side by side, face to face, looking in the light. He preened, she blushed, then smirked when she saw how completely enthralled he was with her.
"Open?" he tapped her thigh.
She swallowed hard and parted slowly, one knee raising. He moved and she froze, holding still.
"Masterpiece. All the layers," he murmured reverently. Came to kneel on the bed between her legs, settling her widened hips on either side, watching her swallow and swallow again as she went on display for his starving eyes.
Pink, tight nub on the top, under a fold of flesh, plump soft outer lips, tight, pink inner ones, and darker shades peeping between. He rubbed her tight torso with both hands, thumbs making a sweeping heart above the tense channel. Stroked around the inner thighs next. Her cheeks. Parting them a little bit to see a shadowed second opening and knowing if he touched it he'd get kicked firmly off the bed.
Moved thumbs inward again, until he connected with the outermost lips. Gently squeezing, exerting pressure outward, to part her. She tried to sit up and he shook his head. "Why you shy? I touched you here. You're beautiful, Slayer."
"No one- there's no- petting. And staring. And silent mediation. What are you doing?"
"Loving you, you silly thing. What's the point of rushing?
"To- to orgasm? I don't know! Everyone else rushes!"
"Well, everyone else is an idiot," he said firmly. "You can have me next. Or you can have me now. Will it make you feel better to be on the other end of the worshipful gaze?"
"W-worshipful?" Her heart gave an unfamiliar flutter. A happy one.
He knew Finn worshipped her. But he worshipped her in the way he wanted. Not the way she needed. Equal parts from the monster and man, for the slayer and the sweetheart.
He prowled up her body, dozens of sharp kisses, little bites, soft nibbles, looking for the place to bite, looking for the places that made her scream in pleasure. When he got to her lips he stopped, laying on top of her, looking into her wide-eyes. Felt his erection pressing into her soft curls and the soft skin of her stomach. "This body is my new favorite temple, Luv."
"And I really, really want you to come in it. Oh! Not like- not like- um- oh, not like right now. And not like come as in- warm stuff spilling out."
"You could have just said orgasm, Luv. You said it five minutes ago."
"My brain isn't working. It's confused by happy yummy feelings and lusty want-something-big-in-me feelings, and then wanting to wait so it'll never hurt us feelings."
He paused. "How big?"
"Spike! Not the point. Well, not the only one."
"I can help you. I want to." He wanted to put himself inside. Fangs, fingers, cock, all of him, in all of her. He knew he might not be wanted - at least not without a completely clear head, so that was out. Fingers and mouth, oh yes, plenty. But if the girl wants somethin' bigger… "Want me to put somethin' in you, Baby? It's all right, you know. I can wait my turn. The main thing when you love someone is to make sure they get what they need."
"I love your fingers. That's good."
"Stakes are sharp. An' the splinters. Not good options," he muttered.
"I don't have -sex toys. Wait, are we talking about sex toys?" Buffy gasped. If we're not talking about sex toys, I'm going to die. How come lately I still think I'm going to die around him, but it's embarrassment related?
"I was thinkin' more of a substitute. Somethin' roughly the right shape might help. I'll still do the job, Pet. The in and out? Or you can, and I can watch. You wouldn't have to feel guilty about it, Sweetheart, not that you should, but if it's just a little 'helper' doesn't matter if you use it alone- or with company…"
The idea of Spike slowly moving something in and out of her pussy- watching it slide in the place where his cock was supposed to be buried… watching her do that, making her cum by proxy- it shouldn't sound so hot. Or sinfully good. "Guys don't like toys. I mean, I thought they didn't."
"I'd rather do the job the old fashioned way, but I understand waitin' my turn. I also don't mind it if you like 'em." Feel like I should get to know this. For long term. Not just quick tips, but the lifelong preferences. He could see this becoming a habit. A beautiful habit.
"I never… I'm not into- well, maybe someday?" she whispered, cheeks going dark crimson. Who knew how long they'd keep doing this? Who knew how long it would be until she felt totally sure nothing was influencing her in any form? Maybe by then she'd want a little "helper".
"Any day you want. For now…"
He sat with her first, as his fingers made their way inside, first one, then two, Gently, and picking up the pace, thumb on her bead. She gasped and moaned, hips instantly seeking him, bearing down.
"Beautiful girl." He watched this time, last time he'd been on her neck, hadn't seen this show. Pink swallowing him. Juice dripping. Spreading down her thighs and into his hand. He laid, head pillowed on one of her thighs, eyes alternating between watching her blissful face with its closed eyes as she moaned and writhed, the other half drawn to the show. She swallowed him. Squeezed him. Bent his fingers and he grunted with exertion to make her let go. "Slayer muscles everywhere," he whispered in awe. He'd never mention it now, but that Faith bitch had been right about the muscles that could squeeze you 'til you popped like warm champagne. And from the tirelessness of her hips, he guessed the "ride you at a gallop" would ring true as well.
He tried a third, but she whimpered and her opening stretched in a near-pain way that he hastened to correct. "Sorry, Pet, sorry, Precious," he quickly whispered and placed a kiss on her curls, smoothing down the tight little slit where he had been burrowing.
They both jumped. So simple. Natural. Kissing a bump or bruise, an accidental push. And he tasted her. The nectar slipping everywhere, from soft golden-brown curls to bottom. His head hovered, waiting for her to open her eyes. "You said you wanted to feel this. For real?"
"Yes. With you. You, too." She gestured down to the length between his hips, where one of his hands was lazily wrapped. "Not just my turn. I went first last time."
"Yeah, but you can have lots, and I-"
"You told me you'd be ready in a minute -sometimes even less," she harkened back to their first encounter, when the reference was a sexual tease, and the reality had been about how fast he would step into the ring with her again, risk getting zapped again.
"That's pretty accurate, yeah."
"So you can have lots, too."
"And you'd be the one giving them to me?"
Buffy reached down and stroked his hair. "I want to. Can I?"
"So sweet, you are," he whispered. "Of course. And now… can I?" His head bowed slightly.
"Or course," she returned with more confidence than she felt. She tried to block out other lovers. Angel hadn't. Parker hadn't. Riley did, but it was not one area they spent extensive time on. He loved to be on top of her, cradling her, looking down at her lovingly. And she loved that, too. Or at least she had loved that once.
But this is about Spike. I do love him. She wasn't sure it was entirely romantic love. It was romantic, sexual, and also deeper, like the bond of a lifelong friend that you're so comfortable around- but it had happened so suddenly that she was startled by it at times. Plus, it seemed to war with the other force inside her, leading to queasy, restless feelings.
All worries and uncertainties were replaced quickly by thoughts only of him.
Spike touched her with reverent kisses at first. Not hitting her nub, not going in, or prying apart. Little soft touches of lips all over the outside first. Inhaling her. Sweet, dewey texture, traces of sex and skin, traces of arousal that was ripening and bits that were new. She's been wet for awhile now, and more is still coming. Getting herself ready for me. He stroked his cock less languidly, more purposefully, as if he'd be called to fulfill that desire any moment.
A gasping breath and her fingers teasing the back of his hair reminded him that she was waiting for more. He tasted the little pink pearl on top, teased the hood back to expose it all the way. Sucked on it and rolled it once under his tongue and between his teeth to hear her squeal and to gauge how much pressure she liked.
A fair bit, if the five dots of blood in the back of his neck were proof. She apologized breathlessly as she let go of him. He simply laughed, a purring rumble and decided to see what else he could find out. If she liked it slow and neat, vicious and wet.
"I like it all, as long as it's you," Buffy whispered as she seemed to read his thoughts.
"I like the same thing," he smiled and dove in.
Tongue in her, alternating with fingers, hands pressing her down, arm locked around her thigh to keep her still while he showed her that one was nice, but three in a row was better and would let her burn for longer, in a good, good way. Cumming with moans, then shouts, and his demon was out, servicing her with the same kind of loving abandon and she barely blinked when she realized the smooth brow was now ridged and the eyes were a jungle cat's.
"Are you biting me there?" she asked in a lightheaded voice. Tell him to stop. That'll hurt.
No, it won't. It's Spike. That's Spike's vampire face. His demon face. His demon helps me. His demon loves me, too.
"No, I'd never hurt you. All delicate." The face smoothed back to pale human perfection.
"I don't mind if you bite, if it's a good spot," Buffy heard herself saying easily as her legs trembled with overloaded senses.
"I do. That'd hurt, I reckon. But for the sake of knowin' things…" He slid into his vampiric visage easily and tried gently nibbling around her clit and folds, using more lips than teeth. She gasped and let out a little squeak at the sharp pin-prickling sensation, but no blood rose to the surface. "Remember- not demon owned." He sat up a bit. She looked winded and he could feel her leg muscles and abdominal muscles began to go rigid. Needed a breather.
"I know," she praised him with a lengthy kiss, slowly rolling to her knees to join him and kiss him. Angel never would have been able to- wait. Buffy pulled back. Tasting herself all over his lips.
And it wasn't bad. It was nice. Sweet, salty, earthy in a way.
Spike realized it, too. "All right?" he asked, leaving it brief. She nodded, licking her bottom lip before kissing him again. His hand went down. Fingers went in. Came up so wet they caught the glint of light from her bedside lamp. "Taste?"
She liked to surprise him. Her own fingers swept in and out and held up. "Put me in your system?" she whispered.
"Let our circle be unbroken, Lover?" he pulled her to him with a possessive, hungry snarl that she was surprised to find herself echoing, hers a frantic, needy whimper. His finger in her mouth, hers in his, and they sucked greedily.
Reminding them of other things left to do. Back into her flowing channel, less deep this time, less wet this time, but still enough to show her the telltale traces. She opened her mouth eagerly, willingly, but it was his lips that met hers instead of his finger. She could feel the hand down lower and she looked.
Watched him paint a line of her juice on his own cock, his face twitching at the sensation of her warm essence on him.
"Leading me with a trail of breadcrumbs?" she asked, one eyebrow arched.
"Thought maybe it'd help."
"I don't need any arrows to find this destination. It's its own landmark," Buffy complimented him as they shifted, him on his back now.
"Visitors encouraged. Well, only if she has the invite, and you do." He reached up and fondled her neck, loving the way she rolled into his touch.
"Don't impale me or anything. I do the staking around here," she joked to cover a slight case of nerves. What if her limited technique was too basic, too boring?
"I'm already about to pop, just thinking about you in the same room with me, Luv. You don't got anything to live up to, or down to, if that's your worry."
"You always know the right thing to say."
"That's just 'cause I know not to bullshit you." He watched her lick her lips several times, nervously. "Oi. Most powerful woman on Earth? You know how to work your body, you're not just a weapon. You're the instrument. Let me hear you play. Promise you'll have one devoted fan," he coaxed her with a smile and loved it when she didn't put her mouth on him, but hugged herself up close to him. That was affection. Loving. She held him tight, before kissing her way down.
He sighed. Thoroughly… loved. Her kisses were light, then heavier, until they turned into nips and sucks, on his skin and his nipples, working him to the point where his hips rocked up and he felt pre-cum dripping out in a steady stream. That hadn't happened in the past few years, and never like this. He was always quickly dispatched to perform, so to speak. Not with her.
Savors it. Savors me.
"I thought this would get more like- blue and white. Like cold, you know? It's pale, but pink and white. And warm." Her hand gently massaged his cock before wrapping around it and pumping as she left suckling bites along the ridges of his hip bones, down the crease of thigh and torso, pushing his leg back to allow her more access.
She cupped his sack and kissed it, nuzzled it, before licking slowly up and down the trail of his pre-cum and the streak of her own.
"God, you're fuckin' fantastic at this. What the hell- how did you- learn to-"
"I never did it like this. I just tried to do what you did. Love every inch. No fear. No pain. Well… maybe a little bit since you like the whole biting thing," she laughed softly at his babbling.
"You can bite me. You can bite me all night, go ahead, just- don't stop touchin' me yet," he pleaded.
"That's a promise." Buffy took a steadying breath and sent her mouth down around him.
His eyes felt like they had misfired. Colors were gone. Everything was black and sparkles. Tight, wet, suction, glorious heat, and the scent of her and the feel of her hair on his thighs and then tossed over onto his hip so he could watch her pushing that perfect mouth down, down, down.
"Holy… Buffy, I'm not gonna last."
"It's all right," she bobbed up, gasping. "I'll give you a minute. I'll even give you five."
He lasted longer than he would have thought. It was because she was truly quite adept at torture. She would get him to the point where he was halfway sitting, abs crunching, shouting, ready to explode, and then she'd stop. Hold his hands back from pleasuring himself. Sitting near him, letting him see how much she wanted him.
"Pussy's swollen, Luv. B'lieve the proper term is 'engorged'. Know what that means?" His voice was ragged, and he pushed her hand away from his so it was free to grip her thigh.
"Not entirely." It means I would happily give up the use of an arm if he'd just push that thing inside of me.
"Full of blood. Clit's erect. Did you know it went stiff, like mine, but smaller? All the hot blood, rushing there, to make you stand up and get attention. More sensitive. See?" Two could play at this game. He licked two fingers and circled her hard, pointing pearl- then flicked it, pushing it hard, just this side of pain, where it would burn and tingle, earning a breathy curse from her as taut muscles trembled.
That time she sucked him viciously and popped him in her mouth, keeping him in as he came, swallowing him while she hooked him with her eyes.
"Inseparable. She in me and me in she," he heard lilting words of old, ancient magic coming out- and didn't know he was the one speaking at first.
She rolled off, pleased with herself and for him, and still… oddly unsatisfied.
"Not right," she whispered, lying beside him. Well, none of this is, really. Spike and I are literally sharing my bed. Even my pillow. There's vampire cum in me. And slayer cum in him. And on him. And on me. And he still didn't bite me. And my pussy hurts. HURTS. "Ow."
Spike sat up, concerned instantly. Pain was a no-go for both of them, for multiple reasons. "Hurt your neck? Your throat?"
"Don't touch me yet." She held a warning hand up. "I actually hurt. Like- stabbing, tight pains. Inside."
"I didn't push in that hard, Baby. I'd never try to hurt you there. Never try to hurt you anywhere, not anymore. Do you think -" Well, he didn't know what to think. "Muscle cramp?"
The only time she'd ever felt like this, even remotely, was the incident in Lowell House, when the bed turned into Spooky Sex Land and they were the ghost in the machine. She and Riley had constant, long, hot sex that seemed out of character for both of them. He was more persistent, she was more clingy and desperate for touch. And when they stopped touching, she felt so empty it hurt. "I can't talk about it."
He tilted his head. "Yes, you can." His hand rested on the back of her neck, tilting her to see him clearly, the look of concern he didn't know he could have for anyone, not even Dru, not again. "I'm your… You're my family." Words stuck in his chest, painful and wrong, and wanted and right. But this hadn't been about him from the beginning. He didn't make it about him now. "You're important to me." You're all I have, however the hell it happened. "So you can tell me anything, because I'm bound to you. To be here for you."
"Well… then you can tell me anything, too."
"I'm not the one in pain. Let's take care of that first. What's in your head, Luv?"
"Talk to me again about the helper idea?" she whispered, feeling embarrassed by the amount of need she had and then oddly at ease with him knowing it.
Girl had condoms. Well, one.
"Spike, don't. We are not using that, because that's one fix I'm not ready for. Besides, you don't need them. That much I know about vamps and babies and STDs." Buffy batted his intuitive hand away from the very back of her bedside table's drawer.
"It's to make whatever we use feel better for you, no snags or rough bits," he whispered. This was the secret. This was the helping each other, the do anything for each other. Girl hurt. He fixed. Later, she fixed him.
"You touch my stake and you'll be the one needing it removed from your anatomy."
"That's either very arousin' or frightenin'. Which piece of my anatomy?"
"Spike!" Her eyes were wide, mouth set to permanent shock.
"Must feel good, blokes keep doin' it. I think you'd best not use the pointy end, though."
"Spike, I was kidding. Well, no, I was threatening, but I had no intention of- ever- because you're- not someone I'd threaten..." she trailed off, confused. Parts of her screamed, no, so no, never in my life and a quieter, calmer part told her that if it would give her lover, her kindred, her Spike, what felt good, she would do it. Of course. Because that's what we do. "I mean, I wouldn't do that unless you want me to. Inside you. Nicely! Not- not threatening," she concluded quietly.
He doubted if he could have felt more amazement without a reserve tank in his brain. "I wasn't asking you to."
"But I would do what helps you feel good. Spike- is that normal?" She gave him a puzzled look. "Like, where you're just willing to try anything-"
"-the other person wants, as long as it doesn't hurt them? It's not normal. You gotta love 'em more that you love yourself, your own ideas. That ain't normal in this selfish world. You know how rare that is?"
"Rare as the Slayer of Slayers trying to save the Slayer from the one and only ungodly annoying Dracula?"
"Well, 'bout that, yeah."
"I don't really think this is necessary, I've been hurt a lot worse before and- what the hell are you doing with that?"
"It's a candle, init? It's even the right color." Spike had rummaged around and found the box of crystals and candles that Giles had given her for meditation and come up with a mid-size cream-colored taper candle.
"Not in-"
"It's a decent length. Sorry, not the width, but-"
"Spike, are you- you're not going to -"
"Make you cum with this inside of your pretty, tight little pussy?"
Her resolve wavered. "I'd rather it was you."
"I'd rather it was me, too." He came back beside her, and she slid automatically against him. "Just tell me if you want to try it, I've got it ready. I'm ready, too. Whichever you need, you got."
Buffy felt herself floating under his kisses, but the pain kept coming back. In a moment, she felt a latex covered hardness glide around her entrance, getting slick with her juice.
"Lights off?"
"For now? I don't want to miss the show."
"I promise we can put them on once I get over my stage fright," she breathed out a tense giggle against his ear.
He hit the bedside light, sinking the room into darkness. She relaxed under him, wrapping her arm around his neck and kissing him.
"Good, Luv?"
"Okay." She closed her eyes and held onto his shoulders, pretending it was him going inside.
She gasped when something room temperature and slender entered her body. She looked up, into his eyes, and saw him looking into hers hopefully, shining so bright even darkness couldn't blot it out. Like he wants to make this so good for me. "I'm glad you're mine," she whispered.
"So bloody happy you asked me," he whispered back and gently pushed the first inch or so inside- and pulled back slowly, watching her experimentally widen her hips. He could feel some slight resistance of her walls as he tried to push more in, only to hastily retreat as her iron muscles clamped hungrily and snapped the thin wax. He tossed it off the bed without taking his eyes from her face.
"Oh! Oh my God, I'm a freak," Buffy hissed.
"You're impressive and perfect, and that thing was flimsy. I could take it, Luv, would love those lovin' muscles wrapped around me. This was- my fault. Damn silly idea, trying to help when I - I feel useless that I can't-"
"I didn't say you can't. I said we can't yet." She thoughtfully stroked his chest. "But I have an idea. I think it'll make it stop hurting."
Lights back on. Smiles back in place. "No pain here," Spike moaned with her in agreement. Legs around his waist. Cock in her hand and then moving together, learning each other's touch, on the outside only.
"Still good?" Buffy stroked him, now beyond room temperature, now warm.
"Perfect with you."
Cock against her soaking pussy. Sliding. Rubbing. He wasn't inside, but he could feel the heat, and their hands scissored between them in turns, her slippery palm squeezing him, his fingers busy inside of her. And her request surprised him.
Needed him inside. More than one way for lovers such as them to define "inside."
"Screw the sneaky, we'll find a new place another time," Buffy crashed her shoulder to his jaw and rubbed him hard against her clit. Fangs sank into her scar, lined up perfectly, sinking into holes that no longer wanted to be left vacant, while her frantic hips and hand and his pounding hardness finished the job.
Cum splashed on her, dripping down, finding its way inside her, and the ache lessened even more. Connection, all the ways. Walls relaxed as she screamed out an orgasm that threatened to break his fingers, but he didn't let go, only pushing in deeper, until he felt her unlock, her knees to her chest, feeling a hard, tight cluster of flesh. "Stay, I got you," he commanded and for once, she listened. "All open like this," he leaned his shoulder back against her knees, fingers in and pounding up high, "now I can find the lock for you, Luv. Not the proper key, but it'll do." He joined his mouth with his hand, pleasing her outside and in.
And it did. She felt the "need something in me" pain evaporate on a cloud of hot wetness and shaking muscles. That was new. That's probably that spot. The one in Cosmo. How do you do things with a guy for months and he can't make it happen, and Spike finds it on the first night we try?
Because he gets me. I trust him. It's so messed up and I love it.
Her breathing wasn't right, he noticed as soon as he could think past the pounding in his head and his cock as it finished releasing. Sobbing? Crying, sobbing? He looked at her in confusion and worry.
Not tears, but close. "Oh, no. Still didn't-"
"I did. You know I did," she panted as she tried to calm down. Tried and failed. "I don't think I ever felt like that. And I never wanted anyone like this. My body - ugh, Dracula said he'd teach me what I was capable of. I thought he was being slimy, but he was right."
"Blasphemy," Spike hushed.
"Not about him teaching me. About learning it was capable. I never thought I could want someone so much it physically hurt inside." Like an animal. Like the slayer. This primal thing- and I don't think it's bad. It's actually… loving. Yeah. I am that woman, that powerful, loving woman, and that- that wickedly hot vamp with the worried blue eyes is who I choose.
"The pain stop?"
"It did for now. I'm afraid I'm turning into a nympho."
"That's not true. I ached for you all day. I couldn't sleep, couldn't settle. I think…" he spoke slowly, carefully. "I think the overkill kicked in for us, Pet. The 'harder' bit of our relationship isn't quite satisfied, because we haven't done that last connection. Fought ourselves to a draw maybe, or haven't completed it one of the most basic ways humans and vamps can. Basic, but deepest."
"So if you just stuck that in me, we'd be all zen-state?"
"Us? Zen?" he snorted. "Seems unlikely, Slayer. Just bet the connections wants its final due."
She was quiet. "That's all it is? Just the bond, some words and bites and -"
"No! Oh God, no, this is us. The connection's just pushy about it. Oi, you're in charge of yourself. You resisted Cape Boy, you'll resist this."
"I don't want to resist… I just want to wait." No, I don't. I really, really, really do not.
"That's decent of you. To do for Finn. I can wait. Even if we never," Spike suddenly felt like his voice box swelled and it was blocking his throat, "I'm still happy. Still love you."
She mewled and launched on top of him again. "I don't want to break this," Buffy suddenly confessed. It was safe to tell him. She had done the most awkward, most intimate, most pleasurable, most horrifying things- with him. He could keep a secret. He was… family, in a way that no one else would ever be. "Not break it with you."
"I do," Spike's confession was just as quick and unexpected.
She drew back with a startled, anguished gasp.
"No, Luv, listen. Then you'll know. You'll have all of your own free-will, no questions asked, no one will ever say- I was just a leftover party favor from some curse you had to break. If I let you- no, if we let each other go one day, I hope you choose me right back up the next."
Choosing him. The words she'd said herself, he spoke them back moments later. Friends would question. Mom would flip. Giles- Giles might actually get it. Riley would murder Spike. That's the only word for it. Murder. She'd have to wait until he was gone for awhile.
And you're already looking forward to him being gone. That should tell you something. Listen to yourself.
"I want that, too. But Riley needs to be gone, Spike. Before that, or he'll come after you, just like you said. And- I don't know how long we want to leave this in place… how long before Dracula gives up and goes to bother another potential fiancee?"
Spike looked at her. The ultimate in sweetness and strength, and sexual passion that had been hidden, kept private, not shared about. That was a quality that he admired. The most powerful girl, fights in light or in the dark, never says die- has died, just gets back up. "If it were me… Probably dust first. But I don't think he- I think he wanted you for obvious reasons, Luv, but I don't think he loved you. I think he only loves himself and his power. So, maybe a few years. Maybe eternity. There's only going to be one way to make sure he gets gone and stays gone."
"I have to kill him."
"Yes."
"So Riley was right. He told me to kill him, that was the real way to break this-"
"Now hold on. He suggested you trying to dust him while he still had a hold on you. That's like fighting blind, fighting drugged."
"I've done that. It's not fun."
"You won. You almost beat him, but he's not ordinary. You gotta at least level the field a bit. Good soldier ought to know that."
Buffy paused, hand stroking down his chest. "I don't think he's the good soldier I thought. Good man. Maybe, yeah. Good for me? Good for this place? No."
Spike rested his hand on the back of her head as it came to rest on his pectoral. "Don't, Slayer." Too late. She was crying. "Aw, Pet… Why?"
"Because I'm stupid and weak sometimes. Because I do the dangerous things to save lives and I try to take zero risks with my heart since it got so royally smashed the first time I ever fell in love. And Riley was my 'safe' guy and he's really not that safe. And you're the dangerous guy and I'd rather have you and you can get hurt, too. And that's a big risk. I don't like that."
His lips were pressed thin. It prevented him from speaking, from begging.
"But I'll take it, if you take it with me," she told his chest, looking down, curled tight.
"Absolutely take it with you, any risk they throw," he vowed. Slid his fingers through hers. Locked them around hers, felt her do the same to him.
It was early for night folks like them, but they didn't move for a long time. Just staring at the joined hands and wondering if that was just another symbol, something doomed to separate and fade, in spite of all the promises.
To be continued...
