Taming the Beasts: Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own them. All Hail Joss.

Spoilers/Ships: This is AU. Buffy/Spike/Angel. Xander/Anya. Willow/Tara.

Distribution: Sure, just let me know.

Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com

Rating: NC-17. I mean it. Go away if you're too young.

*

Wesley woke, terrified and uncomfortable, in the bathtub. The ex-Watcher had slept poorly in his makeshift bed, with evil dreams filling his head with foreboding, and now something nagged ominously at his mind. The images of his former Slayer filled his head involuntarily. Buffy with Spike kneeling before her, feasting ravenously upon her cunt as Wesley fled in consternation to the loo; Angel’s snarl echoing in his ears…Buffy with Angel…Buffy *with* Angel! Angelus! *Good Lord, Angel was with her last night! He'll have lost his soul again! What should I do? He'll kill us all!*

*Giles, that's it. I'll call Rupert. He'll know what to do!* Wesley fished the cell phone from the jacket he'd used as a makeshift pillow.

*

Giles reached groggily for the phone insistently disturbing his sleep. He'd not heard from Buffy since she had called from L.A. to inform him of the attacks upon Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia. He'd been immensely saddened to hear of the latter's death and hoped that Buffy was calling at such an ungodly hour of the morning to reassure him that everything was taken care of and she could return to Sunnydale. Having his Slayer so close yet too far for him to help her was decidedly disconcerting.

"Yes?" he spoke gruffly into the phone.

"Rupert, god, man, you must help me! It's hard to even conceive of it, I mean, I was there, and they were…well…on her and she was so, good Lord, enticing and then they growled and I…"

"Wyndam-Price, what in God's name are you blithering on about now, man? And at this time in the morning? What is going on?"

"It was Buffy! She was… I saw…it was…:

"Spit it out, you prat," Giles ordered gruffly, "what about Buffy?"

"I saw her. Saw her with them. With Him!"

"Well, good God, man, there's no need to get all poncy about it. Show a little discretion, can't you?"

"Giles, you don't understand. She was *with* Angel! They were *together!*"

Images flashed through Giles's head. He’d climbed the stairs to his bedroom, smiling to himself as he stepped among the rose petals scattered so enticingly about. He’d seen Jenny laying sprawled across his bed in what he'd thought was enticing wait. Then he'd seen, really seen, her glassy eyes, realized that she wasn't breathing and the bottle had fallen from his hand as his heart keened for the love that he would, now, never hold.

"Good Lord, Wyndam-Price, are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

"Well, I didn’t actually see them. She snarled at me and her fangs are so sharp, and…"

"Fangs? You don’t mean they’ve turned her?!!"

"No, Rupert, there was this spell, I’d planned to call you about it anyway. From the Scroll of Aberjian…she was struck by the power and, well, affected."

Giles was fully awake now and incensed. "Affected in what way, Wesley? Physically changed?"

"It appears that way, and…well, she…she doesn’t seem to speak much, from what little Spike and Angel told me. In fact, she hasn’t spoken at all since it happened," Wesley replied.

"Hasn’t spoken at all and you’re just now calling me about this?" Rupert’s voice grew markedly colder, chilling to an ominous growl that Buffy would have recognized immediately as Ripper coming to the fore.

"Well, first we needed to get her home from hospital," Wesley qualified, immediately realizing that he’d not made things better for himself by that addition.

"Hospital? She was in bloody HOSPITAL and you didn’t call me? I’m going to knock your sanctimonious ass out a window the moment I arrive, you imbecilic prat!" the senior Watcher bellowed in rage as he grabbed pen and paper roughly from his night table. "Where in the hell are you and how do I get there, Wyndam-Price?"

Wesley shook in mixed trepidation and relief as he directed his senior to Cordelia’s apartment.

*

Angel dreamed.

He was wrapped around the heated body of his tiny soulmate, her smile morphing to gasping 'ohs' as he moved his cool hands up and down her body, stroking her gently. He trapped one pink nipple under his palm and pressed, twisting his hand to tease it. Buffy sighed and ran her own small hands up his chest in response and now it was he who groaned. The heat from those tiny hands invigorated his dead body, spilling need, lust, and tenderness for this amazing woman throughout him.

Angel hissed as Buffy took soft, kissing mouthful of his flesh, nipping her way up to one flat nipple. She teased him, placing those kisses all around it, but waiting until he was writhing under her to suck his nipple into her heated mouth. Angel shouted as sensation zinged from nipple to cock and back again, pulling at his very core with the intensity of feeling.

Buffy lapped and sucked, twirling her wet tongue around first one nipple and then the next as her hands drifted slowly lower, tracing the taut muscles of his abdomen with her nails. Angel thrust urgently upward, trying to brush those taunting hands with his cock, desperately needing her to hold him, to caress the aching length of him.

Buffy laughed and bit down on his left nipple as her hands, at last, circled his rock-hard cock. In her throatiest voice, she whispered to him, "Is this what you need, Angel?"

His name on her lips, the always hesitant lilt at the end, suffused him with feelings of tenderness and love that warred with the fierce animal desire to pull himself from her hands and thrust into her hot depths with no more playing. He growled at her, morphing unconsciously to game face as she stroked him harder now and kissed her way wetly down his abdomen, following the trail her hands had traveled.

Angel growled even harder at the first, hesitant kiss she bestowed on his cock, a growl that turned immediately to a groan as he watched her pink tongue lap delicately at the moisture that had formed there. Buffy glanced mischievously up at him, then sucked him into her mouth.

He nearly spilled right then, only centuries of control keeping him from that embarrassment of youthful inexperience. Buffy smirked at him, her lips gliding smoothly up and down the length of his cock, and he gasped at the picture she presented. He'd imagined this moment, honestly, since the second he'd met her in the alley, perhaps even before that as he'd watched her sucking the lollipop and sitting in the sun outside of her high school. He'd suppressed that image, as he'd suppressed all of his needs and desires, but Buffy had drawn them to the surface whether he would or no.

He'd been passive long enough, he thought and moved, growling, to pin her willing body beneath him and administer the same teasing caresses that she'd taunted him with. Suddenly, she was wrenched away from him into the dreamy fog that surrounded them. He reacted immediately, growling ferally at whomever threatened his mate. He surged forward to attack, only stopped at the very last moment by the sharp point of a stake that pierced the skin of his chest and held him, motionless, at the beginning of his leap.

"Back off, Angelus! The Slayer is safe from you. You shall not harm her," Wesley's voice penetrated the fog that surrounded him and Angel woke abruptly to find himself facing the former Watcher who held an extremely sharp stake to his chest with trembling hands. The fear on his friend's face appraised him of the situation.

He looked around quickly for Buffy and found her, pinned and writhing, in Spike's strong arms. The younger vampire looked frightened and sick, staring at his sire's face with trepidation. Given what Angelus had done to him the last time he'd appeared, Angel was unsurprised that his childe feared his demon.

With difficulty, he morphed back to human face, pulling back slightly from the stake and attempting to calm Wesley down. "Wes, it's me, Angel. I didn't, I'm not Angelus. I don't know why, I'm just not."

Buffy growled angrily at Spike and with a fluid movement, tossed the blond vampire away from her to pounce on Wesley. She knocked him to one side almost negligently and leapt upon Angel, covering him with fierce kisses and nuzzling his chest where the stake had drawn blood. When her tongue darted out to lap at the blood beading there, Angel groaned. It was only then that he realized that he, Buffy, and Spike were completely naked.

His mate naked before a human was not to be borne and he growled at Wesley, "Wes, get out. I'm not Angelus. I don't know why, and frankly, right now I don’t give a damn. Leave us!"

Wesley scurried to obey, slamming the apartment door behind him in his haste. Spike moved swiftly to Angel's side, wincing blue eyes locking with deep mahogany and searching for the soul that he had mocked so unmercifully in the past. Whatever he saw there reassured the younger vampire and he relaxed slightly to brush one shoulder against Angel's before pulling hesitantly back.

Buffy, still burrowed into Angel's arms, made a questioning noise at his withdrawal and Spike glanced at them with poorly hidden longing before glancing back into Angel's questioning gaze. "You can have her now, Sire. Don't much need me about. I'll just be toddling off, then."

Spike turned and searched the disheveled room for his clothes, painfully aware of his own nakedness in a way he hadn't been since the brutal maiming of his body in the church put him in that damned wheelchair. Naked suddenly meant vulnerable and Angelus had been a true master at tormenting any vulnerability he found in his over-eager childe.

Spike bent over to retrieve his pants and flinched as a large hand touched his back. Now it would come…the scathing comment…the sarcastic retort to flay him to the quick and remind him of how unwanted he truly was.

Instead, Angel pulled him quickly into his arms, one insistent hand pulling at his chin so the smaller man had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Spike…William…what makes ye think ye ar’na wanted?" his deep velvet voice questioned.

Spike winced from that too perceptive regard. "I know who you really want…always have. One of the reasons I used to hate her so bloody much. Don't matter now, nice while it lasted, won't let the door hit me in the arse on me way out."

His hurried responses were abruptly stopped by a strong cold mouth, kissing his with a fierce possessiveness that he remembered from his fledging. Angel moved his huge hands into Spike's disordered blond curls, pulling at them gently as he plundered his childe's mouth with long, cool kisses that left Spike gasping for unneeded air. Suddenly the heated body of the Slayer pressed against his back, her small hands sliding around him to enfold his slim body in a warm hug.

He moaned into Angel's dominant mouth, the sensations of cool Sire and hot Mate pinning him involuntarily between them. He simply couldn't move, not with both of them caressing him like this. Flames rose within him and he knew this must be what greeting the sun would feel like, as lust washed over him.

Buffy growled and bit gently at the nape of his neck, running her tiny fangs over his skin and teasing him. Her hands slid around him to twist his nipples before moving lower to cup his now rampant cock. He thrust into her hands as Angel continued kissing him…slow, drugging kisses that pulled emotion from him with ease.

Blue eyes spilled crystal tears finally, tears of need and love and fierce desperation to belong here, in the twined embrace of his lovers. Strong, gentle hands cupped his face while a cool mouth kissed the salt away from razor sharp cheekbones before returning to plunder his mouth again, now harder and more passionately than before.

Spike clutched at his sire's arms with urgent strength, transfixed by his passionate regard. "Sire, Slayer, gods, Angel, hell, please don't stop!"

Angel rumbled acquiescence with a hint of laughter, which abruptly stopped as Spike slid his hands lower to grasp his sire's erection and glide caressingly over the head, stroking and pulling with tantalizing skill.

Angel growled in lust and pressed hard, stinging kisses to Spike's mouth before moving slowly down his neck to the place where he'd possessed him over a century ago. As Buffy stroked Spike's painfully hard cock in her hot little hands, Angel sank fangs deep into his childe's neck.

The sensations from the two of them collided in a burst of uncontrollable bliss and Spike came in long, almost painful bursts. He groaned as the Slayer stroked his barely softened cock with her hot, wet hands while his Sire pulled fangs out of his neck and licked at the welling blood there to close the wound. Spike would have fallen, were it not for Angel's strong hands holding him so gently. His sire eased him slowly down onto the scattered pillows that they'd strewn about the floor, pressing soft, lingering kisses to his lips, cheeks, and hair.

Angelus had never been tender, though inordinately passionate. He'd preferred his sex spiced with pain, lots of it, preferably others', though he wasn't adverse to some of his own. Being held like this by Angel was confusing and utterly strange, though very much wanted.

Buffy elbowed her mate out of the way with an impatient and half-serious shove in order to climb up Spike's body to clean it with her tongue, slurping messily as she sucked up his spending. She swallowed and smiled ferally, then moved up his body for kisses of her own. Her mouth was completely different from his sire’s, small and hot, her tiny tongue darting into his cool mouth to take minuscule, nipping tastes before sucking his tongue into her own.

Spike groaned at the heat, so different from his sire's cold kisses, and ran his hands up her hips and across her belly to her chest. Her small, rose-tipped breasts drew him and he palmed them, teasing the nipples gently before pinching them between his fingers.

Buffy sighed and ground herself against him, her own hands stroking across his body until he felt warm everywhere she had touched. She pressed rougher kisses to the side of his neck, caressing the Mark she’d left there last night with her tongue. It had scarred, and the Beast was glad of it, satisfied in a primitive way that her Mate wore the badge of her possession, though she couldn’t articulate it.

Spike growled at the possessive sucking of his Mate upon his neck. Sensation zinged from the sensitive skin there, filling his body with need and desire. He reached for Buffy, but found her abruptly pulled from him into the dominant caresses of his sire. Spike watched as Angel pulled the Slayer to him, pushing her down upon her hands and knees and mounting her in one powerful motion.

Lust-crazed and completely insensible, Buffy keened with desire as Angel rode her, thrusting back into him brutally in her passion. Her eyes gleamed a startling golden-green and Spike flinched as she sucked him into her mouth without a moment’s warning. She dominated him utterly, her small hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise down to the bone, and he reveled in the pain/pleasure as she taunted him with her tongue and mouth while Angel thrust deeply into her from behind.

Each thrust pushed her harder onto Spike, each thrust catapulted the trio further into animalistic need as the males’ demons and the female’s Beast locked together in a wordless, atavistic embrace that knew no tenderness or mercy, only deep-seated, uncontrollable rut.

Angel was lost, utterly lost, in the sensation of taking his Mate this way. His mind clouded with need, his thoughts lost to him, all he could do was ride her harder, desperately plunging into her heated depths and knowing only that this was the only place he could ever truly belong.

Their shared passion and blood melded each into the other’s mind, no thoughts possible, only base emotion. Lust/love/need poured from Spike to Buffy to Angel to Spike in a circle grown ever tighter from their shared Marks. The crescendo took them all, wringing ecstatic screams from three throats simultaneously as their passion surged and buried them all.

They collapsed in a heap, cool bodies now warmed by the unnatural heat radiating from the Slayer. The males lay, half-asleep, but Buffy smelled something that now caught her attention as her body registered another need now that the first was sated. Hunger. She was starving. And she smelled meat!

The Beast moved to the next room in the dwelling, senses aroused by the smell of blood, yet unable to pinpoint its location. Her nose led her to the box on the ledge and she pawed at it, trying to get to the meat she could smell so clearly. She punched at the box repeatedly until finally the door smashed and she could reach the raw meat inside. It was in a *bowl* she knew that word, and the blood from the meat tantalized her senses.

She scooped the bowl from the shattered remains of the box and crouched on the floor to eat the raw meat, ravenously slurping at the blood that dripped from it as she ripped hunks of it off with teeth and fingers and swallowed nearly without chewing. The pain from her empty belly began to wane as she consumed the nearly 24 ounce slab of meat, and her mind calmed a bit as her body did.

She bent her head to the bowl, sniffing at the cold blood pooled there. It would be better hot from a new kill, she knew, but hunger demanded that she consume it regardless, and she lapped it up indelicately with her tongue.

She was startled from her meal by the sudden appearance of her Mates in the room. The fair Mate crouched lithely before her and she growled at him for a moment when he approached her meal. *Mine,* the growl clearly said, and he backed off, looking startled and a little afraid of the tone in her wordless communication. She relented a bit and softened the growl, trying to convey that she would share with him…with them…if they, too, hungered.

Angel walked to the big box and took more blood from it, glancing ruefully at the smashed microwave on the counter. "I guess we’re doing this the old-fashioned way, Spike," he said, as he dumped the contents into a saucepan and turned on the stove to heat the blood.

Spike didn’t reply, and Angel turned to look, utterly transfixed by the sight that met his eyes. Spike was sucking the blood off Buffy’s gory fingers, lapping at her hands with noisy grunts and moans. Buffy had blood dripping from her mouth, down her chin, where it slid slowly down her neck to her chest.

The sight would have repulsed a human, for there was no humanity left in his lover’s eyes. She looked utterly feral and, to Angel or any vampire, utterly delicious. He was on her in a flash, lapping the congealed blood from her delicate neck before moving to her chin and mouth to eat more of it from her face with long savory licks of his cool tongue.

Spike had taken her other hand in his mouth now, sucking the blood from that one as well, and Buffy sighed under their joint ministrations. The pull of the Beast-mind was nearly overwhelming to Angel when he was in physical contact with his Mate, and he reluctantly pulled back from her, slamming shaky mental gates against the need/lust/want/love that spiraled between the three of them so uncontrollably.

They had to eat. They needed more food for Buffy; who looked frighteningly thin. They absolutely *had* to figure out how to return her to normal. To do this, they needed Wesley, and, preferably, Giles. That required clothing and control, two things they were all noticeably lacking at present.

He made up his mind, calling upon years of steely control to calm his burning lust/love for his Mate and Childe. Angel poured the warm blood carefully into twin mugs, then added another, in case Buffy wanted some too. He pulled Spike not-too-gently off of their Mate and sat him in a chair with his blood.

Spike snarled at first at being pulled from the delectable Slayer, but subsided when he received the heated blood from his Sire, who rumbled at him dangerously for a moment.

Buffy took the cup from him and slurped the hot blood down with no apparent trepidation and the sight, both aroused and disturbed him. They must get her humanity back. Now!

To be continued.