A note to readers: I changed the rating on this story to accommodate the contents of this installment, the fiction called for it and I am taking my first stab at this sort of thing (forgive the pun). I apologize if that bothers anyone but I just wanted to provide fair warning to all. It’s not as vivid as some I’ve read but it does drift beyond the rating of R -Nocte
Part Ten: Together
It was not the time for questions. Buffy would tell him soon enough, now that she had mended the fractures in her memory. At this moment she just needed to give away some of the emotion bottled inside her. As Spike tried to soothe her, he contemplated one way she could do that.
He gently lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed into her stricken face. Tears glistened on her cheeks and a desperate look still haunted her eyes. He pulled her arms from around his waist and deliberately placed them on his still bloodstained chest.
Her eyes drifted downwards to the cut across one pectoral muscle. She smoothed calloused fingers over the wound...She felt regret squeeze her throat.
“Sorry...” came her choked whisper.
He shook his head silently as he dropped his hands to her narrow waist. The heat of her skin warmed them. He wondered if she would understand what he was trying to do.
Buffy looked up in confusion at his solemn face.
Finally he spoke, “Give it to me...all that pain...you know I can take it. You remember that well enough...” he asked.
She frowned. “How?” He seemed less comforting somehow...more...what?
He suddenly surged forward. Hands skimmed up her back to grip the neckline of her worn shirt, his chest pressed firmly against hers.
He replied huskily as he tore it from her body, “You know how...you know me.”
She felt the cold air across her back as she blinked in shock at his sudden action.
He watched her carefully...the knife wasn’t that far away, she could still slip away from him...a slightly feral look dawned on her face. A strange glow in her hazel eyes. He blessed vampiric memory for once. He knew that look.
Buffy felt a flush of heat cross her face. She watched Spike lean back and toss her ruined shirt to one side, a challenging look on his face as he awaited her reaction. She knew he was looking at her body, knew what it did to him to see it. She felt that power again, the power she held over him even after an eternity. He was offering himself as a balm to her sore heart, the best way he knew how.
Spike saw her slight smile. She could sense his arousal, she always could. What this woman did to him...no one in two hundred years had matched it. To have this chance again...such blessings he was unaccustomed to. As he watched, she rose gracefully to her feet, slipped slender feet out of battered shoes, fingers moving nimbly over the brass buttons of her jeans. He took a deep, albeit unnecessary, breath. She was still incredible; time had simply not touched her. The jeans fells to the dirt and she kicked them aside. Despite a life lived skulking in darkness; she still possessed a hint of gold to her skin. The gentle glow of the candlelight revealed curves his hands had memorized many years before and ached to touch again. He tore his gaze from her body to her face. She knew what she was doing to him...reveling in it.
Buffy looked down at Spike. The stunned expression on his face at he knelt at her feet was priceless. He had once told her he was her willing slave. At the time she had found it disturbing but he had taught her the possibilities of such an idea. She arched a brow, pointed staring at his still clad lower body and he quickly stood to rectify that situation. He shrugged off the pants without modesty; he had always been incredibly comfortable with himself. It was she who had had a problem with it. Now she gloried in the sight of it. A gift...to have this back.
She crossed the short distance to a waiting Spike and tilted her head up to accept his hungry kiss. Cool lips covered hers, his hands roamed across her back. She strove to blot out the slightest distance between them by pressing her body to his; she felt his hardness insistent against her hip. He did the same and Buffy suddenly couldn’t tell where he began and she ended. Her heart beat faster and her breath caught in her throat as his hand moved between them. Knowing fingers tracing a familiar path. How did one live without this, how could she have forgotten?
Spike pushed them both backwards until Buffy could feel the rough wall behind her, some things never changed...a bed was out of the question; their need was too immediate. His mouth was at her throat now, tongue moving over her jugular, something he had always done...she could feel the light scrape of blunt human teeth against her skin, he had never bitten down but the feel of the blood coursing beneath her skin drove him wild, she remembered. She threw her head back to allow him greater access and he growled in approval. She felt his body sink down momentarily as he bent to hook a hand underneath each of her knees and bring them up around his narrow hips.
He was right there, that glorious, cold column so close. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed herself upwards, arching her back to find the right angle and sank back down. Her head fell forward limply at the sensation...it was unlike anything else...that single moment with him when their bodies came together. Her heat, his chill, the transfer of heat...and then it was like he was truly a part of her. No one else had ever made her feel this way...was it a vampire thing? No...she had another experience to compare and it was only him, he was like the other half of her, when they came together it was seamless. She clenched around him, already more than halfway there even though they had just begun. His hips bucked helplessly at the power of her contractions and something very much like a whimper tore from his throat.
Buffy raked her hair from her face with one shaking hand and caught his gaze. Wide blue eyes looked back, his sensual mouth open slightly. It was just the same...she felt like she could see right through him at this moment. It had made her run nearly a century ago but now it was everything. To see that kind of feeling in someone's eyes for her...and to feel it too. She took a deep breath and let him see it too, what she felt. Saw it register in his eyes as he moved inside her. His eyes flashed, he suddenly knew.
She loved him... Spike slammed her harder against the wall, moving quicker and quicker, she just moaned in pleasure. She loved him...it was right there in her eyes. This was worth a hundred-year wait...a thousand. She finally had let herself feel it. Spike nearly cried out for joy. They moved together, hard and fast. Spike knew he didn’t have to hold back, that was part of the wonder of this, she could take the pain, the roughness, give it back to him tenfold. She was completely open to him, heated and wet. He felt her nails carve a burning path down his back, felt her teeth sink into his shoulder, bloodthirsty little thing. This was who she truly was, however long it had taken to get here.
As urgency quickened his pace, blinding him to anything but the need to culminate this experience, he could hear a faint whisper in his ear. Was she speaking?
“...you William. Love you, William,” she was chanting in his ear as he drove her repeatedly into the jagged wall.
Her words pushed him over the edge and he surged into her helplessly. He heard her cry out as she joined him, the sensation incredible as her inner muscles gripped him almost painfully over and over again. He gasped, leaning into her, hands clenched into the stone to keep them both from falling.
“Buffy...” he sighed into her neck, unbidden tears streaming from half closed eyes.
They sank to the blankets at their feet as one. Spike twitched one rough green coverlet over them and propped himself up with one arm to look down at her flushed face...
Buffy twined her legs around him tightly and laid her head back to look up at him. The grief was still there, at the back of her mind, but somehow it was bearable...he had indeed taken some of it into him.
“I love you Buffy,” he said to her, voice slightly shaky.
She could see the half-formed terror on his face that she would push him away now as she had done in the past. She just continued to look at him...let him see what had been in her eyes moments before.
“I know...I love you too, William...Spike...both of you,” she replied softly.
She drew him down to her and kissed him softly, tenderness evident in the gesture, something that had been absent in the frenzied sex of minutes past. Soft lips pressed against hard. Gentle fingers drifting over raised welts on his muscled back. What had she done to him, so rough... and what was she about to do? She heard him gasp as she shifted slightly beneath him to better seat him atop her. She looked straight up at him and wiggled slightly.
“What? You thought we were done?” she said in a tentatively teasing tone.
Spike neared shouted in jubilation at the hint of humor. This was the Buffy he had been trying to find. He let a smirk curve his lips as he braced himself above her and let her feel the answer to that question.
“Not by half pet...not by bloody half...”
Continued in Part Eleven: Answers