The flesh yielded so softly beneath his fingers, the blood painted across the pure whiteness, and the imprint of his fingers now black against her throat. But yet she still breathed, tiny desperate inhales, struggling to stay alive in spite of it all. In spite of the pain that racked her young body. His to play with, to turn, to die, the choice was his, and she was helpless to his demands.

His tongue, rough and hungry, slowly covered the sticky flesh, drinking her life force that still slowly flowed from her wounds. Laughing at his mastery, he pulled back, while his hands began to tear the clothing from her body. He took the time to caress the flesh as it was revealed to him. Her breasts, firm and yet soft, as he kneaded them, rolling the nipples, hardening even like this, to his request. Her boots pulled and thrown, it wouldn’t matter in the end where they were, her pants slid down her legs and discarded. Leaving the Slayer clad only in the purest of panties, pink, cotton, covering the mound that would be his final victory.

So, many spots, so much flesh, still not bruised, still not bleeding, so much yet to do. Her hands fluttered upwards, crossing over her chest as her eyes silently begged him not to do this.

“Scream; don’t beg like a frightened virgin, you from your heated seduction, unleashed a monster on the world. There is no innocence left in you, I know.” Spike whispered. “Who is more evil? The vampire who follows his instincts or the whore that gives the world to one?”

Tears flowed down her cheeks, anger because she wouldn’t play properly, and a slap across those little girl cheeks. The sobs now echoed around him, reminding him of who he was, setting free his fists, upon her and now the only sound was of her flesh receiving punches and slaps as he screams his fury at her.

Panting, like the man he once was, the red heat leaves him and something tickles at him but she is his, he tells that something as his hands now stroke the flesh beneath him. He kissed her cheeks, her neck, following it downwards until he feasts upon the mounds that have only known the attention of evil creatures and fools as he holds her hands down. His erection is rubbed against her moist heat as she whimpers.

“There is so much that we can do. So many games I wish to play with you but none more than this one.”

His hand finally attached itself to where all her secrets lie and he feels the thrill of ownership move through him.

“Let me go. There are other lifetimes for us to live.”

“There will be no lifetimes for you. Not even this one. You will know death before this night is over.”

Finally ready he covered her body, now devoid of any guards to her truths, she cried out from the pain as his body pressed down on hers. His weight crushed the already broken bones and bruised flesh as he forced her legs apart and prepared for the final claiming.

“William, is this any way to treat a maiden so?”

Spike woke, his eyes blinking as he tried to force something into focus, trying to distinguish reality from the dream. It was Buffy and she was breathing next to him. Soft and innocent, trusting and believing in his changes, slowly he laid next to her again. His hand caressed the softness of her hair while he tried to banish the nightmare from him. And as he let his love flow over them in a protective shield, he watched the First slowly fade from sight.

~~~The End~~~