AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is not a redemptionist story, folks. Season 4
Spike is evil and cruel. Squicky bloodplay is featured in this story. Yes,
again. No one ever accused me of being creative.
DEDICATION: To the ever patient Claudia, who is willing to go
along for the ride, and for the Voice of Reason, who keeps me true.
“Spike!”
Willow slid to her knees next to the fallen vampire. Red currents of energy
trailed over his body, and Spike twitched, his body jerking as if he had been
electrocuted. “No, no,” she muttered, unable to understand how she had done
this to him, or how to make it stop.
A wave of nausea and pain overwhelmed her as a torrent of blood ran out of her nose. She tilted her head back, pinching her nostrils shut. Blood poured into her mouth, choking her, and she coughed.
Spike groaned
and stirred next to her. “What the hell did you do to me?” he asked, cradling
his head as he sat up.
“I dun know,”
she said, her voice all congested.
“Why did you-”
he ranted, and then looked at her, taking in the situation. “Bloody hell!” He
pulled her into his lap and leaned her backwards, cradling her in his arms.
“It’s alright, Wicca,” he assured her. “No worries.” Blood had run down her
chin and neck, and it was still flowing.
“It’s nod
sdopping,” Willow said, her eyes welling with tears.
“Rest easy.”
Spike brushed her bangs off her forehead and took her bloodstained hand off her
nose.
“Whad’s
happening to me?” she whispered, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes.
“There’s a
reason for ritual, baby,” he said, concerned. “You can’t just let the magick
take you over. Get yourself killed that way.”
“I didn’t even
mean to do it. It just happened!”
Willow began to panic, weirded out by the magick and him and the entire
situation.
“Hush, now,”
he said quietly, and bent down and closed his mouth over her nose. She tried to
push him away but he was holding her tightly.
“Dop it!”
Willow said, but Spike didn’t. His mouth, oddly, felt soothing and nice, and
the pain began slipping away. Willow felt herself falling back into the easy
lassitude she’d felt before their fight; before she zapped him.
She looked up
at him, and blood was smudged on his lip and chin, his eyes dark. “The
bleeding’s stopped. Thank you.” She felt odd. The world seemed hazy and slow,
and her head felt light.
“My pleasure,”
he said huskily. His head descended
slowly, and she knew he was going to kiss her. Willow could feel his erection
pressing against the back of her thigh, and he had that look in his eyes again.
The look of “I’m going to pin you down and screw you.”
“I didn’t mean
to turn you on again,” Willow explained, trying to defuse the situation. She
tried to wriggle away, but she just wound up grinding against him. He closed
his eyes, his mouth opening in a silent hiss. “I’m not a tease. I’m not doing
this to you on purpose.”
“You can’t
help it, any more than I can help responding to it.” He was infatuated with
her, craving the magick that sizzled within her blood. He’d tie her to him, and
then he’d have the extra firepower he needed to rid the world of the Slayer
once and for all.
“Sorry about
hurting you,” she said apologetically. “You made me really angry, but I didn’t
mean to hurt you. I don’t even know how I did it.”
“I do,” he
replied. “You’ve come into your power.
It’s in you now, running through your veins.” He smiled at her, looking
pleased. “I told you I could taste it.”
“I don’t
understand,” Willow said. “Magick’s something you summon, not something you
are.”
“You’ve got a
lot to learn. There’s so much darkness inside you.” Spike’s face shifted, his
eyes glowing yellow. “Just like me.”
Willow
screamed and struggled to get away from him as he flipped her on her back, pinning her to the ground with the weight of his body.
Spike grabbed her chin and moved his mouth to cover hers, and she
encountered the sharp feel of his fangs.
She held her eyes tightly shut, pretending he was Xander, or Oz. Someone safe. He moved his mouth away and shook her chin, forcing her to look
at him.
“Open your
eyes,” he commanded. “See me.” She did, and he locked her in with a forceful
gaze. Willow was drawn into the alien amber of his eyes, the onyx pupils.
”‘What do you see, Willow?” he asked softly.
Images flashed
through her mind. Spike in vamp face, snarling as he cracked the neck of a man
in fatigues. Buffy on her knees,
crying. A dark haired woman tossing a skinny black box at the retreating back
of a tall, blonde man.
“Deeper,” he
said seductively. “Go deeper inside me, Willow.” Inside the yellow of his eyes
were tiny bubbles, roiling across the surface like water at a brisk boil. She
stared inside the bubbles, and found herself. Bucking in a pair of handcuffs,
her hair sliding across a pillowcase as her mouth opened in a silent scream.
Sitting cross-legged in a circle, her body glowing with a steady yellow light.
Spike smiling down at her as he fastened a ruby necklace around her throat, the
heavy chain cold against her skin. A wrist pressing to her lips, scarlet drops
cascading down pale skin.
“Kiss me,”
Spike whispered, and she moved her mouth to his, her hands clenching in his
soft hair. “That’s it, my witch. “ Her tongue slid across the slick surface of
his fangs, and she loved the way it felt.
Willow
whimpered with need and Spike slid his cock between her legs. He didn’t feel the same inside her; he felt larger and harder and rougher then he had before. The muscles of his shoulders were different, too, and the feel of his legs against hers. The knowledge of his monstrous features against her,
within her, produced the rush of a bungee jump times infinity.
It was hard to
catch her breath. She felt like she was drowning, being swept away by an
undertow much stronger and faster than she was. “So tight,” he growled. He
nipped her neck, and it felt good, another layer of sensation. It was surreal,
having Spike, sliding in and out of her, his big hands clenching her hips. It didn't seem real.
Willow
whimpered as a wave of pleasure rolled through her, a strong tug from belly to
breasts. She cried out, thin, high
noises that she didn’t even recognize.
“I love
fucking you,” Spike muttered, his voice strained. “How slick and soft and warm
you are. How your skin feels against mine. Those irresistible noises that you
make.”
He kissed her as he moved in and out of her smoothly, their movements slow and
fluid. A feeling of bliss overtook
her, the melty feeling she used to get when Oz rubbed her back for her. But she didn’t want to think about him; she
wanted to think about Spike. Just Spike. The fear of him receded, replaced by
something tender.
His arms
tightened around her as they kissed deeply. “You like my demon,” he said,
whispering in her ear. “Turns you on.”
“It’s so
strong and powerful,” she said. “I can feel it in you.” She pressed her hand to
his chest, and he shuddered.
“Like calls to
like,” he said, and bit down on her neck, two tiny pinpricks sliding into her
skin. A surge of adrenaline filled her, the fear of death combining with the
rush of sex to produce a keen sharp euphoric high. She came with a shudder,
swept away by a wave of pleasure mixed with pain.
Spike pulled
his fangs from her neck and gasped, and a flood of wetness surged inside
her. They lay together, gently kissing,
hands trailing along each other’s backs. “Did I hurt you?”
“It felt so
good,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But how did you do it?”
“I don’t
know,” he replied. “Could be it stopped working, could be because I didn’t want
to hurt you.”
“You don’t
want to hurt me?” she asked, running her hand across the back of his neck.
“Not unless
you like it,” he said, smiling widely.
“I don’t know
yet,” she whispered. “Let’s find out.” She bit down hard on his neck and he
gasped. She sucked hard and bit him,
and he put her hand on his cock.
“I wanted to
take you under with me, make you feel the way I do,” he whispered. “You crave
me now, don’t you?”
“I want to be
yours,” she whispered, kissing his chin and nuzzling his neck. “I want to feel
you inside me again.”
Spike hissed with pleasure. “You make me so hot. All I want is to take you and drink you. You’re so sweet, with all those shadows underneath.” He pulled her face away from his neck and kissed her passionately. Willow dug her nails into his back as she jabbed her tongue against his fang, filling their mouths with the taste of her blood.
Someone
knocked on the front door, and they both looked towards it. “Sod the
dream date with Ken and Barbie,” Spike said, his voice low and sultry. “I’m not
done with you yet, not nearly.”
“We have to go,” said Willow, pulling away. “We have to find out
about the commandos, to keep you safe.”
“I’ve got a massive cockstand here,” Spike griped. “I can’t just-”
She slid down between his legs and closed her mouth around the
head of his cock. “Willow,” he hissed, as she opened her throat and took him
in, sucking hard around nearly his entire length.
She sucked hard as she massaged his balls with her hand, and Spike
began to thrust in her mouth. “That’s it, baby,” he hissed. “So close now.”
The rapping at the door persisted. “Just a sodding minute!” Spike
screamed out.
Willow slid her finger into his anus as she skimmed his length with
her teeth. He came into her mouth with a loud moan, his hands twisted tightly
in her hair.
Willow pulled away, wiping her mouth. “Coming!” she called out. She put on her panties and tights, and
stepped into her skirt. “Get dressed!” she whispered at Spike. He lay on his
back on the pillows, his eyes closed. “Come on!” she said quietly, fastening
her bra. He blinked and got to his
feet, walking towards the door. She picked
her sweater and looked at the deep vee neck with dismay. “Hurry up!” she hissed,
rushing up the stairs.
Spike pulled
on his pants and buttoned them. Still tasting Willow’s blood on his lips, he
licked it away. He put on his shirt and
opened the door, revealing Riley and Buffy. “Evening,” he said smoothly.
“You guys
ready to go?” asked Riley. “We’re running late.”
“I’ll just
grab Willow,” Spike said, and closed the door in their faces. He grabbed his
duster from the back of the couch and put it on. “Oi! Everyone’s waiting on
you, Red,” he called up the stairs. He pulled on his boots, leaning over to tie
the laces. Waiting for a minute, he charged up the stairs.
Willow was
rummaging through Giles’ closet. She yanked a black turtleneck off a hanger and
pulled it on over her bra. It was huge, the sleeves dangling inches below her
fingertips and the hem above her knees.
“What’s wrong
with your pink sweater?” Spike asked. “That shirt looks blooming ridiculous.”
She frowned.
“I need to cover the bite mark.” She pulled up the neck of the shirt as far as
it could go.
“Shame to cover
up my brand,” he said. “Going to make a lovely scar.” His very own witch,
powerful as hell and bound to him by thrall. He smiled, just thinking of the
mayhem they would create.
“Come on,
before she breaks the door down,” Willow said. She walked past him, rushing
down the stairs. He followed her, watching as she grabbed a hideous knitted
poncho from the coat rack and stepped outside.
She was
waiting outside the door, and she locked it behind them. They turned and Buffy
and Riley were sitting on the fountain in the courtyard, chatting.
“Sorry we kept
you guys waiting,” Willow said brightly, taking Spike’s hand in hers. “Where
are we going for dinner?”
“I made a
reservation at Good Fortune,” explained Riley. “It’s just a few blocks away.”
“Sounds great,”
chirped Willow.
“One of the
finest establishments in this hustling metropolis, I’m sure,” commented
Spike. The quartet headed down the
street.
“I hope you guys are hungry,” Riley said.
“This place has the best all-you can-eat Chinese buffet in Sunnydale.”
Spike looked
at the large, muscled man next to him. “I’m starving,” he said with a big
smile.
Willow looked
at him nervously. “Well, you can just pig out at the buffet, and then if you’re
still hungry, you can have a bite at home later.” She grinned at Spike as he turned to look at her with raised
eyebrows. Buffy turned and stared at Willow, her brow furrowing.
They stopped
at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green. “So, we haven’t officially
met yet,” said Riley, turning to Spike.
“I’m Spike,”
the vampire said agreeably.
“Spike?” Riley
said with a frown. “As in, the guy Buffy was going to marry, Spike?”
“You know
about that?” Spike asked, confused.
“Sort of,”
Riley said. “Buffy said it was a joke.”
“It was,”
Buffy explained. “Just a really- bad joke.”
“And now
you’re dating Willow,” Riley said. “Or is that some kind of joke, too?”
“No,” Spike
replied. “Nothing funny about that.”
The light
turned green and they continued on. “How did you two meet?” asked Riley.
There was a
long, awkward moment. “Spike’s in a band,” Buffy supplied.
“Right,” Spike
said. “Drums.” He did an imaginary drum roll.
“So you’re a
musician like Oz,” Riley said. “Did you two know each other?”
“Only by
reputation,” Spike elaborated. “Hard act to follow, there.” His grip tightened
on Willow’s hand and she squeaked. “Sorry, petal,” he murmured.
“No big,” she
said, and he lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it.
“So you’re
here with your band?” Riley asked.
“My band kind
of- broke up,” Spike said. “Guess you could say I’m between gigs at the
moment.”
“He’s staying
with Giles until he gets his next move figured out,” Willow offered.
“I wouldn’t
think Sunnydale would be a big draw for musicians,” Riley commented. “There are
only a handful of venues here.”
“Oh, for my
kind, this is Mecca,” Spike said. “You take your stand in Sunnydale, you’re a
headliner.” He smiled at Buffy and licked his lips, and she glared at him.
“And you have
family here, I guess?” Riley asked. Spike looked at him blankly. “How is Giles
related to you?”
“Uncle,”
Willow interjected. “Spike is staying with his good old uncle Giles.” Buffy
smothered a snicker, turning it into a cough.
They walked
down the block and reached the restaurant, two large statues of Hunan lions guarding
the door. “Three minutes to spare,”
Riley said, looking at his watch. He held open the door.
“Riley really
enjoys being prompt,” Buffy explained.
“He’s dating
you, I imagine he needs to find his thrills where he can,” commented Spike,
sotto voice.
The Slayer
turned and flicked him off, and he waggled his tongue at her. “Pervert,” she
mouthed.
They walked
into the restaurant and waited at the hostess stand. Soon, they were escorted
through the main dining area to a back room. The lighting was more dimly lit,
and the room was empty. As soon as they were seated, Willow stood up and hung
her poncho off the back of her chair. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said,
grabbing her backpack. She leaned over and pecked Spike on the lips.
“I’ll go with
you,” Buffy said hurriedly. The two girls walked off in the direction of the
bathroom.
“I wonder why
they do that,” Riley said to Spike.
“Some bizarre
herd instinct, I suppose,” Spike commented.
Riley sipped
on his water. “I know this really isn’t any of my business,” he said. “And I’ve
really given some thought to whether to say anything. But I really feel I need
to.”
Spike looked
at the other man. “Warning me off Willow, or something else?”
Riley blinked
with surprise. “Willow.”
“She’s been
hurt, she’s on the rebound, don’t hurt her, something like that?” Spike asked,
tilting his head.
“That’s pretty
much the gist,” Riley said. He toyed with a pair of chopsticks on the table. “I
don’t know her very well myself. But I do know that Oz leaving really did a
number on her.”
“And you don’t
see why she’d pick a bloke like me to take up with, after a paragon like him?”
Spike said dryly.
“It’s not
that,” Riley said. “It’s just-” He paused, considering his words. “It was like
something died inside her, after he left. She walked around like a zombie, her
eyes blank. I mean, she walked out in front of a car-” He cut himself off.
Spike looked
at him seriously. “You telling me Willow tried to off herself?”
“I don’t know
that it was intentional,” Riley elaborated. “I’m just saying- be careful.”
“You’re saying
she’s damaged,” Spike said. He was in
her head now; he knew the cracks in her mind firsthand. He could easily push on
her weaknesses and shatter them himself.
“I’m saying
that she’s vulnerable,” Riley explained. “This is not a girl who is up for a
fun fling.”
In the ladies
room, Willow was touching up her makeup while Buffy looked on. “What is going
on?” Buffy asked, furrowing her brow.
“Well, right
now I’m applying lip gloss,” Willow said. “Want some?” She extended the tube to
her friend.
“I’m not
talking about stupid lip gloss!” snapped Buffy.
“Nothing’s
going on.” Willow frowned at her reflection and reached in her bag for a
hairbrush, smoothing out her hair.
“You’re the
worst liar in the entire world,” Buffy replied.
Willow
laughed, the sound echoing off the tile. “Right. So says Miss ‘Spike’s in a
band’.” She took a glass vial of patchouli out of her cosmetic bag and
unscrewed it, applying it to her wrists. She lifted her hand to her neck and dabbed the oil on under her shirt. “Ouch!” she said, dropping her hand and wincing.
“What’s the
matter?” Buffy asked, her eyes fixed on Willow’s neck.
“Nothing,”
her friend replied, pulling up her turtleneck.
Quick as a
flash, Buffy yanked it down, revealing Spike’s bite marks in the neck of her
best friend.
“The evil
bastard!” Buffy hissed. She turned and
grabbed the doorknob. “He is so dusted.”
“No, Buffy!”
Willow said, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t!”
“He tried to
kill you!” Buffy said angrily. “How can you defend him?”
“He wasn’t trying
to kill me,” Willow said calmly. “It was a sexual thing, something we both
wanted.”
Buffy pulled
away with a jerk, looking at her friend with dismay. “Gross! And suicidal, Willow!”
“No,” Willow
said. “It was wonderful, and amazing.” She smiled at the memory, her face
lighting up.
Her newly
found bliss did not sit well with the Slayer. “I knew you were lying to me
about him!” she exclaimed. “I knew you
had a crush on him.”
“I didn’t
then,” Willow said. “But things are different now.”
“How could he
even do it?” Buffy asked. “He’s not supposed to be able to bite anymore.”
“I’m glad he
can,” Willow said. “I’ve never felt anything like it in my life.”
“That’s
because it can make you dead,” Buffy snapped, her voice seething with anger. “I
really hope Spike enjoys his meal, because that vamp has seen his last sunset.”
“You can’t
kill him,” Willow said, looking earnestly into her friend’s eyes. “That’s just
not going to happen.”
Buffy hugged
the witch tightly. “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal. I promise.”
“You can’t
stake him,” Willow protested.
“Watch me,”
Buffy replied.
“If you stake
him, you may as well stake me too.” Willow’s face flooded with pain. “I don’t
quite know how it happened- but I think I’m falling in love with him.”
Buffy looked
at her in disbelief, and then snapped her fingers. “This is some kind of
spell!” she exclaimed. “Like what you did to me! You did this, somehow.”
Willow
clenched her hands together angrily. “It’s not a spell! We’re meant to be
together, eternally. How can you-
trivialize it? He is my destiny, Buffy!”
“If I have to
hear any more about this, I will stake myself,” Buffy said. “This Spike love thing is so very over.” She
turned and stormed out of the bathroom.
Willow ran
after her through the dining room, and soon they reached their table.
“Something wrong?” asked Riley, standing up.
“I’m not
feeling well,” Buffy said. “Can you please go to the drugstore and get me some
aspirin?”
Riley looked
at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I have a bad headache
from the MSG,” Buffy explained.
“You haven’t
eaten anything,” Riley pointed out.
“Fumes,” the
Slayer explained, waving a hand in the air.
“Are you going
to be okay?” Riley asked, concerned.
“I’ll be
fine,” Buffy said. Riley kissed her forehead and left the restaurant.
As soon as his
back was turned, Buffy whipped a stake from her jacket. Spike stood up, knocking his chair
backwards. “Don’t do this,” Willow said. “I don’t want either of you to get
hurt.”
The Slayer and
the vampire ignored her, circling each other with deadly intent. “You never
should have come back to Sunnydale, Spike,” Buffy said. “How many times do I
have to smack you down before you figure out that you suck at being a bad guy?”
Spike laughed.
“I am so sick of your crap, Slayer. You have got a serious kick in the ass
coming.” He tilted his head and smiled
at her. “After I drink you dry, I think I’ll tear out the throat of Commando
Boy. Teach him that his kind messed with the wrong demon.”
“‘Stop this,”
Willow said angrily. “I love you both, but you’re pissing me off.”
“This ends
now,” Buffy said adamantly, and lunged for Spike.
“No!” Willow
yelled, and a bolt of red flew from her hands, hitting Buffy in the back. The
Slayer hit the ground with a thud.
Willow grabbed
Spike’s hand and pulled him through the restaurant. Out front, he stopped,
digging in his heels. “I’m not running from the Slayer, damn it,” he said
angrily.
“You have to
get out of town, now,” Willow insisted.
“I’m not the
type to turn tail and run,” Spike said.
“Bullcrap,”
Willow retorted. “You’ve done it at least twice that I know of!”
He looked
affronted. “Well, I’m not doing it now. I came back here to take the Slayer
down, and I’m not leaving till I do.”
“Spike, she’s
going to kill you,” she said. “I don’t want her to kill you.”
He tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear. “Miss me when I’m turned to dust, will you?” He
looked into her eyes, the light tone betrayed by the serious expression.
“I’d be
devastated if anything happened to you,” she admitted, her eyes soft.
He leaned in
and kissed her, his hands cupping her face.
“You taste so good,” he said, covering her mouth with his again. “You make me feel so good.” The kiss between
them heated up.
“You have to
go,” she said, pushing him away.
“If it’s my time, so be it,” he said with a
shrug. “ I’ve had a real good ride. Real good.”
“I don’t want
either of you to get hurt,” Willow insisted. “You need to leave. Please.”
Spike looked
at her for a moment. “Okay, I’ll go. One condition, though. You come with me.”
“I can’t come
with you!” she protested.
“Come with
me,” Spike said coldly, “and I won’t kill the Slayer.”
“You can’t
kill Buffy,” she said. “She’ll kick your ass, again.”
“I’ve killed
two Slayers,” he replied. “Believe me when I tell you, it’s just a matter of
time before I do Buffy too.”
She looked at
his deadly serious face. “Please don’t.”
“Then distract
me, give me something else to do. Come with me to New Orleans,” said Spike.
“Get you the best teachers of the dark arts; you’ll learn how to use your
power. We’ll live like royalty, and you’ll not want for anything. You’ll love
the beignets and the music, and I’ll have hot and cold running tourists. It’ll
be grand, baby.” He smiled affectionately. “The most powerful witch the world
has ever known and the baddest master vampire on the block. We’ll be
unstoppable.”
“I can’t just
give up my whole life here,” she protested. “My parents, my friends…” Suddenly,
she stopped, blood trickling out her nose. “Oh, Spike,” she said, knees buckling.
He caught her
as she fell. “No more magick till you get a teacher. This is no good, petal.”
“I’ll be
fine,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”
“You need to
rest,” Spike said, concerned. He wiped
the blood from her nose and licked his fingers. “I’ll take you back to Giles’.”
“We need to go to my parent’s house,” she
explained. “They live near the university. I can get my things, and we can get
out of town before Buffy finds us.”
They headed
back to Spike’s car and got in. He steered the DeSoto through the streets of
Sunnydale until they pulled up in front of Willow’s home. The house was dark,
no cars in the driveway. “They’re in Prague,” Willow explained. “One of Mom’s
conferences.”
Spike got out
of the car and looked around. “This is where you grew up? Very Ozzie and
Harriet.”
Willow slammed
the car door shut. “Only with a Hellmouth and demons.” They walked up to the
front door and Willow unlocked it. “Come on in,” she invited, and they stepped
into the foyer. She closed the door with a slam and walked upstairs, Spike
following. Flicking on the light for her room, she opened the closet door and
pulled out a suitcase, laying it on the bed.
“Cute little
fluffy room,” Spike said, walking around and examining her books and
knickknacks.
There was a
pile of mail on her bed, and Willow leafed through it. Opening a large padded
envelope, she pulled out something, closing her fingers around it. She stood
still as a statue, not moving.
“I see you
like Faulkner,” Spike commented. “Never could quite get into him at all.” He
turned and looked at her, taking in her blank stare and shaking hands.
“What’s the
matter?” Spike asked. He walked to her side, pulling the bag out of her hand
and tilting it. A pile of pictures and letters came tumbling into his hands.
The photos showed Willow in many moods, happy, studying, talking to Xander. One
picture he especially liked, Willow in profile, looking out a window. There were a few objects in there as well, a
white garter, a pair of tiny silver earrings, and large quartz crystal. He
stuffed the contents back in the envelope and shoved the lot in the pocket of
his duster.
Willow stared
ahead of her into nothingness. Spike pried open her hand, revealing a silver
key chain decorated with an embossed wolf’s head. “All My Love, Willow,” he
read off the engraved back. He looked at Willow, her eyes wet and lip
trembling. “He’s not worth it,” he said, his face tight. “The beastie’s not
worth your tears.”
“It hurts so
much,” she said, starting to cry. “Why did he leave me?”
“Because he’s
a bleeding idiot,” Spike said, closing his arms around her.
Willow cried
and cried, soaking the front of his shirt as he held her tightly. “I’ve lost
everything. I feel like I keep falling, and I never hit the ground.”
“I’ve got
you,” he replied roughly. “I caught you, and you belong to me now, sweet girl.”
“No!” Willow
protested. “My heart belongs to Oz. He’s the one I love.” She turned away from
him, her hands covering her face.
Spike looked
at her, confused. The thrall was losing its strength; she was pulling out of
it, the connection lessening. “You love
me,” he reminded her. “I’m the one you love now.”
She spun, her hands
clenched into fists. “This is just- fucking! It’s not the real thing. It’s
taking something wonderful and making it all dark and twisted.”
Spike’s lip
curled. He was losing patience with
her, and he couldn’t risk another bolt of magick hurting either of them. With a
sweep of his hand, he swept the mail and the suitcase off the bed. He turned to Willow and pulled off her
poncho, tossing her on the bed. “Stop it!” she cried out, struggling to get up.
He knelt in
front of her and pulled Giles’ huge shirt past her fingertips. “This was mighty
practical of you, Red.”
“What are you
talking about?” she asked, looking up at him with wet eyes.
With a tug, he
ripped off the sleeve and, taking her wrist, tied her to the headboard. “Don’t
do that!” she said, fighting him with punches and kicks. He ignored her, tearing off the other
sleeve, and tied down her other wrist.
He ripped the collar off the turtleneck and slid it over her head,
covering her eyes like a blindfold.
“I’ll still know it’s you,” she hissed. “You can do what you want, but I
won’t be thinking of you. I don’t want
you.”
Spike growled.
“You bloody will, sweetheart.”
“I hate you.”
She cried, her tears sliding out form beneath the blindfold. “You’re a
monster.”
“I’m your
monster now.” He stripped off his duster and his clothing and hovered over her.
Sliding off her panties, he pulled off her striped tights, leaving her bare.
She kicked at him, and he grabbed her leg and tightened his grip until she
whimpered in pain. “Kick me again and I’ll show you how much of a monster I can
be.”
“I’ll never
love you,” she said. “Never.”
“Love is overrated,” Spike said gruffly, ripping open what was left of her shirt, and
tugging off her bra, ripping the thin lace. Spike kissed down her body; slow
sucking kisses that left tiny red bruises in their wake. He bit her thighs and
made her scream, moving his mouth between her legs, licking and sucking before
settling in to slowly tongue her clit.
“Stop,” Willow
whimpered. “Please.”
He pulled away
and hovered over her, a satisfied smile on his face. “Tell me you want me,” he
said. “Tell me you want this.”
“I don’t, not
with you,” she insisted.
He pulled the
blindfold off her face and looked into her eyes. “Look inside,” he said. “See
what we will be, love.”
She saw a city
at night, a thousand sparkling lights spread before her. Spike crying out
in orgasm, his face awash in bliss. A crystal glass of champagne, shimmering in
candlelight. “Spike,” she whispered.
Her eyes gleamed with happiness, her face lighting with a smile.
“Witch,” he
replied, kissing her lips. She responded warmly, pressing her body against his.
“I want to feel you,” Willow said. “I need
you.” She stared deeply into his eyes.
He quickly ripped away her bonds, releasing her. Once free, she wrapped her arms around him, her hands sliding down his back. “Will you stay with me?” she asked. “Will you promise not to leave?”
Yes,” Spike
promised as he rolled, putting her on top of him. “We will never part. You’ll never be alone, Wicca, and neither will I." He vamped out and bit his wrist, the blood pooling on his skin.Putting her wrist to his mouth, she drank unbidden, her tongue licking along the edges of the cut.
She sank down on his cock, moving up and down. They stared into each other’s eyes as they moved in slow rhythm, their bodies joined twice over. The thrall stoked both demon and magick, strengthening each one.
"We will set the world on fire, petal," he said. The connection Spike had initiated blazed from demon to witch, filling them both with a dark ecstasy.
Willow moved
her mouth away, her lips tinged with his blood. “Will you turn me now?” she asked. “Will you make me what you
are?” She tilted back her neck, baring the skin where his mark already
laid. He wasn’t sure if it was the
culmination of thrall, or her broken heart, or her own version of suicide that
drove her. In the end, it didn’t really matter. She wanted eternity, and the thought of a future with her beside him, within him, empowering him, was even more addictive then her blood. His features shifted, and he rolled her on her back, leaning in to claim her forever.
The door
slammed open, and something whizzed by the bed. A metal ball landed on the
floor, thick smoke pouring out of it.
Spike pulled
out of Willow and shoved her behind him. “It’s the commandos!” White bolts of electricity streamed across
his body as he screamed, and he slid to the floor in a jumbled heap.
Willow
scrambled backwards off the bed, pulling the sheet to cover herself. She bumped
into something. “Looks like Hostile 17 found himself a little girlfriend,” said
an acid voice, and then a jolt of electricity flooded through Willow.
-TBC-
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