Spike could feel her shifting under his body, could sense her concern, but there was nothing he could do. Her tiny bit of affection had sent him reeling. He didn't want the deceit of it. He did not need another female to tell him pretty lies.
What the hell was happening to him? Why this girl? Why this slayer? Why had his demon chosen the one girl in all the world meant to kill him to take as a mate? Why had it bound him up with this girl that didn't even like him?
She brushed her fingers over the mark she had made and the world came rushing back. His mate was under him, begging for a response. He slid one leg between hers, and she flinched.
The scent of her blood hit him. It was intoxicating, rich with life and power. He shuddered. Buffy made a small sound, and his demon stirred. He felt the demand of his demon surge through him. Stupid, bloody fool. The demon wanted to care for her, wanted to coddle her. He tightened his fists against the mattress. Strength, he needed strength. The demon and the man that formed him were at odds. Each trying to serve an agenda of their own. She whimpered, and he was buggered.
The shift was fast. The demon relaxed and licked the damn slayer's tears away. It stroked her and cooed at her. Tenderness formed in every stroke. She sobbed and clutched at him. He could smell her relief.
His own resentments faded as he surveyed the damage their violent mating had done. There were scratches and bruises decorating her body, and some of them were his doing.
She winced as he shifted over her. He had hurt her badly.
He slid down her body, nuzzled into her folds, and licked at the brutalized flesh, trying to soothe her. The rich taste of her blood filled his mouth. He stilled as he noted the over abundance of certain hormones and the synthetic tang. He had been too caught up in the moment before.
What had those damn fools been trying to do?
He felt her hand clasp his. She kept seeking comfort. He closed his eyes and rested the side of his head against her thigh. These falsities of affection were driving him insane, but demon reveled in them.
"Oh, wow, that feels so good, Spike."
He purred against her folds, and she arched up against the vibration. The cuts and abrasions were healing, but the demon wasn't done. Bloody fool. She tasted divine, but it was physical, only physical. There was no love, no devotion. It was just bloody sensation. Her better half had decided to trap him in an endless hell.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip the building down around them. He could taste her on his tongue, squeeze her with his hands, but there was no love.
Spike wrenched himself away from her. The demon snarled within him.
He watched her eyes focus again, saw the flash of pain. That was nice. Mated didn't mean whipped.
"Did I do something wrong?" She had pulled her legs up and curled around them. The demon wanted to reassure her, but he rolled his eyes and left the room without a word. He would not be a nursemaid to the bleedin' slayer.
He went to the room he'd shared with Drusilla and stepped in. Her scent was there, weak from the passage of time, but it was there. The memory of her dancing in the moonlight with blood dripping from her mouth played through his mind. His beloved. His wicked plum. She was magnificent. He pressed his hand to his neck to feel the scar his sire had left him, to roll in the delight of the bond, but he felt the slayer instead.
Her pain was raw and throbbing. He dropped to his knees and cried. His mate's pain was his.
"She's all around me." He sobbed. "Too bloody right. You couldn't give me a better warning than that, Dru? One hundred and twenty years and you left me to this? Just dust to you."
His body shook as the tears flowed. There was no comfort in this room, no safe haven. He was alone, abandoned by his family to fate. He ripped at the carpet with his hands. One hundred and twenty years and she had flung him away to cavort with a slime antlered wuss.
He had killed slayers for her, had bathed her in the blood of innocents, had stood by as she cavorted with his sire in this very room, in their very bed. He roared and stood up. He was done crying, done being poor weak William.
He yanked one of the posts free form the bed and stabbed it through the mattress.
"I loved you, you bitch." He ripped the post free, pulling batting and metal free with it. He twirled it about and stabbed it into the mattress again. "I loved you and you fucked him in my own bed, next to me. I gave up everything to save you, and you tossed me away."
He wrenched another post free and swung it at the bed. It shattered. He picked up a piece of the old wood. It would be so easy to end it. He could just shove the stake in. No more pain, no more loneliness.
"Don't do it, Spike." Buffy stood in the doorway to the room. She was wrapped in his duster, looking so very delicate.
"Took that off a slayer in New York. Looks better on you though." He shrugged. Buffy swallowed and looked at the bed. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it bothered him.
"Spent a lot of time in this room when my legs didn't work." He tossed the stake onto the bed. "Peaches and Dru had no problem fucking while I watched. I loved her with all that I had and it wasn't enough."
"I get it. She abandoned you. She took away all your choices." Buffy bit her lower lip. "Angel left because it was too hard to stay. He just left. There was nothing I could do about it."
"Yeah, old Peaches is good at ducking out." Spike saw something shine in the carpet and knelt down. His fingers closed around the familiar shape, his mother's ring. Drusilla had abandoned it here. He clutched it in his hand. She'd never worn it, but she'd always kept it safe with her other treasures.
A small warm hand pressed against his back. She had come. This human designed by the powers to kill him, offered comfort. He turned, clutched her to him, and sobbed against her naked belly, the leather of his duster slid along his arms.
"God, I'm so sorry." She buried her hands in his hair. "I was so busy thinking about myself, but this isn't any easier for you."
He looked up at his mate. The urge to renew the claim hit and he pulled her down to the floor. He kissed her gently and pushed his duster from her shoulders.
"No regrets, Love." He shoved the ring and the coat away from them. The past didn't matter anymore. "We'll get through this."
Buffy nodded and he kissed her. It was a simple kiss, gentle and sweet.
Mated to the slayer.
He was buggered, and there was nothing for it.