Warning: Rating NC-17.
Part XIV - Realisation
“BUFFY!” she cried out as the blade cut through her tender skin.
“DAWN!” Buffy sat up, heaving uncontrollably, tears streaming down her sweaty cheeks as the gruesome images still played out in front of her eyes.
“Buffy, it’s just a dream.” A familiar voice whispered from behind her.
Startled, she turned to see the vampire sitting next to her, his hand lightly caressing her back.
“God, it was horrible!” she breathed as her heart raced in her chest.
Spike moved in closer as he noticed Buffy’s new stream of salty tears run down her face. He cupped her head in his hand and brought it to his shoulder.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” She said weakly.
“They can’t harm her if they don’t have the dagger.” Spike explained.
Buffy immediately went for the blade tucked in her pants and clung to it as if to life itself, rocking back and forth cuddled up in the vampire’s long arms. She inhaled sharply taking in his scent; the familiar mixture of cigarettes and alcohol assaulted her nostrils and she couldn’t help nuzzling against him. She moved her nose up, down and back up his chest until she reached the tender and pale skin of his neck.
A jolt of electricity run down Spike’s back as he felt her dry lips brush against his neck. Buffy’s left hand let go of the dagger, that was sill trapped in her right one, to slip in between the buttons of his shirt. As the tips of her fingers caressed the soft fabric of his white t-shirt, she gently pushed his chest down to the floor. Spike resisted at first, but soon he lay on the floor, Buffy’s warm body moving snake-like over him.
Buffy’s lips ran along his jaw line until she found his dry ones. Her hair fell around his face as she opened her mouth and sucked in his lower lip. Spike remained motionless under her weight, as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him. In his mind, the war between his ego and his heart raged once more, as Buffy’s legs parted and took his between them.
Unconsciously, Spike parted his lips, giving her full access to plunder his mouth. And so she did. Her moist tongue slipped in, sluggishly exploring every inch of him, until it connected with his own. At the feel and taste of him, Buffy felt something inside her break free.
Slowly the battle in Spike’s mind subsided and his hands were free to roam over her body. One slipped behind her back under her shirt, while the other took its place over the nape of her neck as he hungrily opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.
As their tongues danced and battled, Buffy’s fingers struggled to unbutton his shirt. Eventually, she succeeded and proceeded with undressing him by slipping her warm hand under his t-shirt. She gasped at the feel of his hard muscles under her.
Spike moved his own hand up her back, dragging her grey t-shirt with it. They broke the kiss for a second as they slipped their shirts over their heads. When the uncomfortable items were out of their way their lips met once more.
Their bare stomachs lightly brushed over each other and Spike moaned into her mouth. His hand travelled up and down her back until he found her braw. It took him a second to unclasp it, move his fingers over her shoulders and down her arms dragging the straps with them and take off her braw.
The feel of her erect nipples pressing against his chest made him gasp and suddenly his jeans were getting a little too tight, biting into his swollen cock.
The pain faded away as Buffy moved her hand between their bodies and started undoing his jeans. She slipped her fingers in, slowly stroking him. The vampire growled, lightly nipping her lips. He tugged at the edge of her pants, pulling them down.
It didn’t take long for Spike’s jeans to be taken off too and soon he lay naked under her. As the vampire now tugged at her panties, Buffy returned her small hand to his groin, moving at a slow and steady rhythm. As the thin layer of cotton came off, Spike could feel the heat emanating from between her legs. All he wanted to do was bury himself deep inside her, but he knew she needed to do this at her own pace.
Her hand abandoned his swollen member as she moved to position herself over him. She moved in an agonizingly slow way and he released his frustration by ravaging her mouth.
She parted her legs, setting one on each side of his thighs, her wet opening hovering over his throbbing cock. His hands rested on her thighs and Spike resisted the urge to push her down.
Buffy broke the kiss and as she raised her torso, her hips came down. He was able to strangle a cry in his throat as he felt her heat envelop him, but as he opened his eyes and saw her, naked, sitting on top of him with her head fallen back, a groan escaped his parted lips.
She sat there for a while, adjusting to his size. Then, she slowly started moving up and down, her hands resting on his stomach.
She was absolutely breathtaking. Her perfect milky skin, bathed in the faint moonlight, possessed gaudy shades of blue. His hands travelled from her hips, up her waist and over her round breasts.
Buffy moaned at the feel of his fingers brushing over her erect nipples, and increased the pace. As the pressure inside her built she felt the need to be touched harder. His stroking was light as a feather and so she brought her hands over his, instructing him to roughly cup her breasts. He obeyed and she felt a small chill travel from her round globes straight to the sensitive nub between her legs.
Noticing she was nearing her release, Spike’s left hand abandoned her breast, moved down her stomach and rested in front of her mound of curls; his thumb slipped under it. There it found her swollen clit. Buffy gasped at the contact, but as he started moving his finger in small circles, she felt her whole world cave in. Her head flung back once more, as a powerful orgasm took over her body. Her hips bucked uncontrollably and her inner muscle contracted at a frightening pace causing Spike to loose control. His body jerked upwards as his own release came in small spurts.
As Buffy came down from her orgasm, she suddenly felt her whole body grow numb and she let herself fall on top of Spike, covering his chest with hers.
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Buffy woke to the sound of rustling clothes. With great effort she forced her eyes to open. She was laying on the floor, her naked body covered by the her t-shirt and pants.
“Time to wake up, Slayer. You’re chums may come in any minute.”
She sat up, using her t-shirt to cover her chest and looked in the direction of Spike’s voice to see him finish buttoning his jeans.
“Spike…” she whispered, but he cut her off.
“Better hurry.” He said exiting the training room, leaving her sitting on the cold floor.
Buffy felt as if someone had just punched her right in the stomach. She tried to ignore the choking feeling in her throat and started gathering her clothes and putting them on.
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Spike entered the room to find Willow and Tara asleep on the floor and Xander and Anya sitting on the table looking through two large books.
Xander looked up and was about to say something, but as he opened his mouth all that came out was a strangled cry of pain, as Anya’s heel connected with his calf.
“Morning, Spike.” She greeted with a forced smile.
Spike frowned, he couldn’t believe his senses. Had the ex-demon just kicked her lover to stop him from saying something inappropriate? Anya, miss I don’t know when to keep my mouth shout so I always end up with my foot in my mouth?
“Anything?” he asked.
“Nop.” She answered with a sad face. “There doesn’t seem to be anything unusual about the Climes.”
“Guess they’re just normal folks with very bad religious choices.” Sarcasm dripped from each words that came out of Spike’s mouth.
“Hey, Buffester.” Xander called out as he saw her walk in.
“Hey.” She answered automatically. Her eyes searched the shop for the vampire and they found him crouching next to It, giving him some pizza leftovers.
When she made her way in his direction he stood up and went back to the table.
“Any reason why they always sport this all black, mask with white symbol look?” Spike asked pointing to a sketch of a Clime.
“Not really.” Willow’s hoarse voice was heard. They turned to see the Wicca rise from the floor while rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Yawning, she dragged her tired body to the table and sat in a chair. “I read a passage about an oath they made on the day of Aronh’s death. Something about never feeling the warmth of the sun until their master had been reborn.”
“That means they have to stay underground.” Spike rationalized. “Well, that’s a start.”
“Spike, there are a million places under the city. This is the Hellmouth!” Buffy walked up to the vampire.
Spike ignored her comment moving away from her.
“Well, what do they say about their numbers?”
Everyone looked at Spike questioningly. What was he getting at?
“How many are they nowadays?” he rephrased. “If they’re a lot of them there aren’t many caves around these parts big for a big group.”
“Well, it says here that they were pretty numerous back in the day, but I don’t know about now.” Willow offered.
“Well, let’s assume their numbers haven’t changed much. Considering they think they’re getting this Aronh guy back, they must have all come to see it, right?”
Everyone nodded, including a sleepy Tara who had just woken.
“Anything else on them?” Buffy asked.
“Not much more.”
“What about the ritual?” Spike inquired.
“Well, they need to tear the fabric between the earth and limbo. So they’ll probably pick a spot where the space between the two worlds is already very thin…” Willow trailed off as it dawned on all of them; Xander was the only one to say it out loud:
“The Hellmouth!”
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