CHAPTER EIGHT

Spike laid his lips gently against Buffy’s throat as he kicked open the suite’s door, kicked it closed again and lowered her carefully onto the bed. Meeting her eyes with a smile, he pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheek, followed by the corner of her mouth, the underside of her jaw and the other corner of her mouth. He shuddered slightly as he felt her warm breathe light against his chin.

Buffy returned his smile, her eyes shining. Kissing his mouth softly as he positioned himself carefully over her, she felt the tears begin to roll down her cheeks. A sob broke free before she could stop it.

“Buffy, what’s wrong, pet?” Spike met her eyes, confused, and her tears doubled.

Buffy shook her head, trying to hide her sobs with a shaky laugh. “I... I’m fine. I...”

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Spike caught hold of her wrist, gently pulling it away, to rest against both their chests. Lowering his face slowly, he kissed a tear, closing his eyes briefly at the taste of salt. “What’s wrong, love?”

Buffy bit her lip, meeting his eyes. “I... I missed you, Spike.”

“You... that’s why you’re crying?”

Buffy giggled wetly, slapping his arm. “Yes, dummy, why else would I be crying?”

Spike just looked awed.

Taking a shaking breath, she held eye contact. “After the battle, there were so many to mourn for. Some of the potentials... Amanda... Anya...”

“Anya... Anya didn’t make it?”

“Andrew said she died saving his life.” Buffy ran the back of her free hand over his cheek. “I’m sorry. I know how... close you two were.”

Spike stared at the spot on the pillow just to the left of her head, trying to digest the news. “How... How’s Xander?”

“He’s dealing, I think.” Buffy was a little shocked at the question; Spike and Xander were never what any sane person would call close. “Better than I was... I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“We had a memorial service for... everyone we lost, once we got set up in London. Giles is reorganising the Council there. There are graves, all empty. He... he even had two headstones placed for Mom and Tara.” She sighed heavily. “Though he might have to take one down now.”

“He... he has one for me?” Spike looked amazed, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, he did a eulogy and everything... and Dawn...” Buffy began to shake with sobs again, despite her smile. “She spoke for you. It was... what she said was nice.”

Spike ran a hand over the side of her face, carefully pulling her hair free of its knot and laying the chopsticks on the bedside table. He smiled fondly, murmuring, “That’s my little bit.”

“She... she’s missed you. School has distracted her, learning a new language and everything, but she still does. She is so much stronger than me.” Buffy admitted softly.

Spike furrowed his brow, but said nothing.

“She... she’s trying to move on, which is good. She’s going to be so pissy when she finds out you’re back. But me? I’ve spent the last nineteen days pretending to be the leader, directing an army. But... I haven’t been ok, Spike. I haven’t been sleeping, or eating. I know Giles is worried... Willow has been too. But I just...” She broke off her breath trembling.

Spike touched a finger to her lips before pressing his against hers. “I know, love. I spent one hundred and forty seven days in that hell. I lost you, pet. The one I love. Losing all those people—“

“No.” Buffy interrupted, shaking her head vehemently. “Not all those people. You. I mean, I miss Anya, I do. Every day. She was... one of my best friends. And the others... but it wasn’t them I cried over. It was you. Always you.”

“Buffy...” Spike whispered, but she held a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“Every day I wept for you, Spike. I’ve missed you for nineteen days. Felt like there was this hole in my chest, in my gut, in my soul, and nothing I did, nothing made it better. It just... just got worse and worse. I...” She inhaled heavily. “I don’t know how you survived, Spike. Not for so long.”

“I thought of you.” Spike murmured, cupping her face with his hand. “The promise I made to you. I told you that I would protect Dawn ‘til the end of the world. And I meant it. Even when you were gone, I never wanted anything to happen that would hurt you, so I kept her safe. Her... All your friends. I kept my promise, Buffy. For you. I tried to tell you that night how I felt, about the fact that you treated me like a man. You made me feel alive for the first time, pet, even when you hated me. And even when you did in those final hours, you treated me with respect. I owed you everything.”

Buffy was crying again, silent tears rolling heavily down her already stained cheeks.

“I love you, Spike.”

The vampire almost collapsed on top of her with shock. “What?”

Buffy giggled. “I love you. And I mean it, just like I have all day, and nineteen days ago for that matter, so don’t even try to say I don’t.”

There was shocked silence for an excruciatingly long moment, before...

“Say it again.” Spike beamed down at her, his chest swelling.

Buffy only laughed, and pushed him to the side, rolling until she was straddling him. Grinding once against his budding erection, she flashed him a wicked, challenging smile. “Make me.”

Spike opened his mouth to throw back an indignant reply, but was cut off as Buffy took the opportunity to kiss him, pulling at his bottom lip. She felt his groan reverberate in his chest, and she pulled away softly, pressing her forehead against his.

“I missed you.”

“I love you.” Spike whispered, kissing her again as his hands found her hips. “Buffy...”

Buffy smiled, her eyes shining again, and she sat up, planting her hands on his chest and letting her hair fall sensuously over one shoulder. Taking hold of the edges of her shirt, she dragged it slowly over her head, listening to him groan as her breasts were pushed together by the movement. She was wearing a matching set of white lace lingerie, and was privately glad that it was one of the few sexy pairs she’d managed to buy since her house was destroyed. Dropping the shirt to the floor, she grinned at him, his eyes glazed over with lust.

“I said... make me.” Buffy repeated, biting her lip coyly.

Spike pursed his lips in a smirk and shrugged. “Alright then.” He grabbed her hips tightly, and pushed her onto the bed, positioning himself on top of her once again. ‘Bet I can make you scream it, pet.”

Buffy shook her head teasingly. “Betcha can’t.”

Spike let out a rumbling growl and smashed his lips to hers. She tasted so good... smelt so good. Even after all that happened, she still smelt like vanilla. Like Buffy. Like Heaven.

Grinding his erection against her crotch lightly, he moved his lips across her cheek and along her jaw line to the side of her neck, finding a place just back from her pulse point he knew she loved. Sucking the skin there, he swiped his cool tongue over it, and she moaned.

Grinning against her throat, he murmured. “Bloody hell, love, I’d almost forgotten your taste. Your scent. But as much as I love that noise you’re making, don’t you think we should keep it down for the sake of the neighbours?”

Spike actually didn’t give a toss about the neighbours, but he knew how Buffy was when it came to their bedroom antics. Well, more crypt-antics, but still, she usually liked to keep it as quiet as possible when they were in danger of being found out.

“Oh, please. Will and Kennedy have probably headed out; they knew what we’d be doing in here.” She ran her hand down his chest to untuck his shirt and slip her hand underneath it to graze fingernails over his taut stomach. Biting his earlobe playfully she added. “I wanna be loud.”

Spike groaned.

Pulling his duster from his shoulders, she divested him of his shirt and kicked off her boots, before her hands returned to his chest. Brushing her thumb over his nipple, Buffy grinned as he hissed in response. Pressing her crotch up against his, she shimmied her hips.

“Minx,” Spike smirked down at her, that familiar, self-indulgent smirk that told her he was loving this just as much as she was. Loving her just as much.

“Spike,” She sighed as he pressed his cool lips to the hollow of her throat. “I don’t... oh... think I can wait. I need you now.”

The vampire’s fingers immediately slid down to tweak a lace-covered nipple before he reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Pulling it slowly from her, he stared down at her indulgently for a moment before taking one nipple into his mouth.

“God, Spike...” Buffy’s hands came up to tangle fingers in his soft platinum hair, holding his head in place.

Spike’s hands continued down to her waist, relishing the curves of her hips, the silky skin of her lean stomach, before reaching her jeans. Tucking his hand over her mound, he could feel her heat even through her jeans. He grinned.

Unzipping her pants with a flick of his wrist, he lowered himself down her body, kissing his way down her cleavage and stomach. “So wet for me...”

Buffy’s hands tightened their grip on his hair, halting his motion. He looked up, dipping his tongue teasingly into her navel as he did.

“I need you now, Spike.” Buffy panted, her cheeks flushed. “I want you inside me, right now.” She pulled him back up her body until his still-clothed crotch brushed against her heat and reached down to unbuckle his belt.

Spike’s hands closed over hers, quickly unbuckling, unzipping and kicking his legs free of his pants. Brushing his tip against her clit, he smirked. “Bossy little chit.”

Capturing her mouth in a kiss, he pushed himself in to the hilt. He swallowed her gasp even as his tears burst into his eyes, half because of her hot, tight quim, and half because he was actually in there again. She’d let him back in after everything that had happened, everything he had done.

She had accepted him.

He surged within her, each thrust sending him all the way in to her core, brushing against her clit as he did. Her muscles squeezed his cock every time he pulled out, and her heat was burning him, consuming him. He was completely lost in her. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she pushed her hips up to meet his on every thrust.

Buffy could feel herself start to climax, but she tried desperately to hold off. She knew that if she came, Spike would just make her come again and again until he did, but she didn’t want that. She wanted him. She finally realised, she wanted him. All of him.

She bit down on his bottom lip, knowing what would happen. She felt him pull away slightly, his face shifting into his vampiric visage as he did.

Spike looked down at the Slayer, surprised. She had discovered in some of their more heated crypt-activities that biting like that would make him change. She had stopped doing it straight after.

“Buffy...?”

Buffy turned her head, baring her neck in obvious invitation. “Spike, I want you to. I want all of you.” She smiled.

Spike was in awe. Lowering his head slowly, he kissed the scars on her neck softly, tenderly. Lathing his tongue over her past bites... The Master’s... Dracula’s... Angel’s... he slowly pushed his fangs into Buffy’s skin.

Buffy cried out immediately, the pain lost as she felt her inner walls begin to quake and she screamed as she climaxed, calling his name.

The blood burst onto Spike’s tongue, her arousal sweetening the already delicious Slayer’s blood. Feeling her climax he came with a shout, erupting inside her.

Buffy shuddered from the last waves of a multiple orgasm, brushing the back of her hand tenderly over her lover’s cheek. He smiled down at her, his eyes glistening, before he lowered his head and licked at her wound, stemming the bleeding.

Rolling carefully off of her, he pulled out of her. They both moaned at the loss. Buffy quickly wriggled closer to him, pressing her cheek against his chest, throwing her arm across his waist and a leg over his hips. Spike wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss tenderly to the top of her head.

“I love you, Buffy.”

“I love you, Spike.” She whispered back, pressing a kiss to his chest.

Spike felt everything at once. The joy, the fear, the happiness to finally be loved. She loved him. She truly did. She meant it, she wanted him, William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, and she loved him.

Chuckling softly, he tightened his arms around her.

“Told you I’d make you scream, pet.”

“Oh, shut up.”





TBC
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Author's Note: Only one more to go! Hope you guys are liking it. i know the sex-part was relatively short but I thought the other stuff was more important. Season Seven seemed more about emotion than physicality, and I wanted that here. Let me know what you think, ok? =]