Part Six: Many A New Day
Spike didn’t know how long he had been watching her. An hour, two, twenty. She was slumbering peacefully, resting on her stomach, her face turned toward him as moonlight poured in through the windows and made lazy play across her bare back.
He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t do anything but watch her. Curled at his side with her hand entwined with his, she was just far enough away from him to make him feel the distance. He would have moved closer if he weren’t worried about jostling her awake. Distance bothered him—always had. The distance he had placed between them after the night they had spent together had all but driven him out of his mind. The series of quick fucks he’d had after that in a desperate effort to prove it wasn’t the Slayer who made him feel things hadn’t fixed that distance. Now, he couldn’t stand thinking of that period, even if it had been before their relationship had been defined. Before they’d even had something to call a relationship. Before he could acknowledge to himself, let alone anyone else, that the thing he felt for her was love.
Buffy was the Slayer. She was everything he was destined to hate and more. He had tried to kill her more times than he cared to count. And for whatever reason, she was lying beside him now. Her naked body next to his as she slept, trusting him. A slayer with a vampire. A vampire without a soul. A vampire who had no reason to be good except for her.
Because he loved her. He loved her so much. And with every breath he stole, every kiss he treasured, every minute of her time that should belong to anyone but him, he dreaded losing it all the more. He knew she cared for him and just that was enough to blow him away. And while it might have been presumptuous to want her love too, he couldn’t help himself. It was there, an impossible yearning gnawing his insides away.
Perhaps it was more his own insecurity. It didn’t matter what she told him or what he told himself—he had spent a century playing second fiddle to Angel, and though this had always bothered him, it hadn’t started killing him until Buffy had gotten involved.
If he couldn’t get her love where Angel had, he didn’t know what he would do. Selfish? Absolutely. But Spike wanted to have it all. He wanted her—her friendship, her body, her love. Everything that came with it. Everything that made her Buffy.
She gave herself over willingly. She hid nothing from him. And while he never doubted she was happy, that she was with him because she wanted to be, she still seemed so distant. So far beyond his grasp. He kept reaching for her and she kept slipping through his fingers.
But for the time he had before she slipped away forever, holding her was the closest to Heaven he would ever get.
Spike sighed, giving in and covering the space between them to drop a kiss across her back.
He sensed the minute that she came awake. Felt her go through the first few seconds of remembering where she was before she relaxed into him and brushed a kittenish kiss across his chest. And he couldn’t hold back his moan if he tried.
“Spike?”
He smiled softly and pulled back, brushing strands of hair away from her face. “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Mmm.” She yawned and stretched against him, favoring him with a sleepy smile. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost four,” he replied and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Better be getting you home before long, else your mum’s gonna pound down the door with an ax, and I’m not sure I’ll end up fairin’ well.”
Buffy arched an eyebrow, shifting upward and finding his chest a makeshift pillow. Her hand fell to his abs, where she etched feather-light patterns into skin she knew was ticklish from experience he didn’t care to relive. “I told her where I was gonna be,” she murmured with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry.”
“You told your mum that you would be at my place, getting shagged sideways and you’re telling me not to worry?”
“Well, I left out that last part. I just figured she would know that without having to be told.” Buffy sat up slowly so that she could see his eyes. “You can relax. My mother does know that I’ve had sex.”
“Yeah, but not with me.” When she didn’t agree, he narrowed his eyes. “What? You’ve told her?”
“What? No! I don’t want the details of her sex-life any more than she wants the details of mine. But she knows I’m a big girl in an adult relationship.” Buffy dropped her eyes to his chest again, then slipped her hand back up his abdomen to play with one of his nipples. She wisely ignored his low whimper. “I told her that I wouldn’t be home tonight. She did the Mom thing where she speechifies me to death, but in the end, she said that she didn’t approve but that I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Besides—hello—graduation coming up soon. I get to move out of the house.”
Spike grinned, stretching to his leisure. “Here’s hoping you get a flat-mate who doesn’ mind a bunch of noise,” he purred. “Think you can pull some strings and get space to yourself?”
“What kind of strings?”
He shrugged. “Like, ‘’Lo. Name’s Summers. I save the world and I’d like my own room, please.’”
She giggled and shook her head, grinning. “I don’t think so. The Slayer package doesn’t come with benefits, sweetie.”
“Watch it. You’re hell on the ole ego.”
“I could stroke it later.”
He leered at her, his cock going hard at the words alone. “I’m gonna hold you to that, baby.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Buffy offered him a wicked smirk before settling comfortably in the bed. “You’re just gonna have to face it. It’s inevitable that I will be spending a lot of quality time right here.”
Spike smiled, trying hard not to read too much into her words, though he couldn’t help the way he bubbled with excitement. “I suppose,” he replied, trying for casual and failing miserably. “So you can stay? Your mum’s not gonna come at me an’ chop off all my manly parts?”
She flashed him a wide-eyed look, dropped her hand to his dick, and started stroking him in ways that had him whimpering and writhing in a matter of seconds. “She better not,” she replied. “I’d be angry.”
“Furious,” he agreed, collapsing against the pillow and arching himself into her hand with a long moan. “Fuck, baby…”
“But to answer your question, yes, I can stay.” She paused at that and a shy smile broke across her face. And yeah, that did it for him—that she could be pumping his shaft like she was and still find the room to be self-conscious. “That is, if you want me to. I didn’t mean to invite myself over or anything. I just—”
Spike grinned and silenced her with a teasing kiss, covering her hand with his and encouraging her to squeeze. She did and he moaned again and kissed her harder. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “if I had my way, you’d never have reason to leave.”
Maybe that was telling her too much, but he didn’t care. Right now, the worries in his head faded and all he could focus on was her.
Buffy smiled, dragging her fingers up his cock. When he arched and whimpered into her touch again, she leaned over to plant a kiss at his throat before straddling his hips. Though her heart was pounding and she was twelve kinds of nervous, she knew now was the time to do the thing she’d wanted to do for weeks now. To try to worship his body as effortlessly as he did hers. He knew exactly where to touch her, knew exactly how she liked to be kissed, knew more than anyone had ever known. And now, she wanted to give the same back to him.
Something about taking those final steps had always terrified her. And while she was still shy when it came to sex in many ways, Spike gave her courage. He gave her so much.
It amazed her that this was the finish line. That just a few months had passed since the night everything had changed—since she’d entered the Council’s trap just plain ole Buffy Summers and left with… Well, she hadn’t known what then, but she did now. She’d left with him.
It frightened her to think she belonged with a vampire, but perhaps she did.
“Buffy…”
“Yup,” she replied with a wink, giving his cock a squeeze. “That would be me.”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
Spike offered a pitiful whimper and thrust his hips toward her. “Need you, baby. So much. So bad.”
“Well…I wouldn’t want to disappoint.” Buffy smiled at him and shimmied down his body so that she was straddling a leg. The move earned a growl, and he arched a little to ground his flesh against her soaking pussy.
He looked a little relieved to hear her answering moan. As though the knowledge that he wasn’t alone in his need made it all the more tolerable. “Ahhh,” he breathed, arching again, moving just a little harder. “You’re gonna be the bloody death of both of us.”
“You first.”
“Already dead.”
“I died last.”
Spike arched an eyebrow.
“Well, I did. And the mystery of two slayers…? Never mind.” Buffy shook her head, leaning forward against his weight and, yeah, grinding herself a little harder against him. They both moaned, but she settled before she could pursue her own pleasure. This was for him. Instead, she returned her attention to his cock, encircling him with one hand as the other measured the weight of his balls. The sound of his answering mewl was all the prompting she needed. She edged herself forward still and took the tip of him into her mouth, her thumbs massaging his sac in sensuous circles as her nails feathered his sensitive skin. Spike threw his head back and panted, thrusting upward again. Still, he was gentle. He was always gentle, never wanting her to do anything she didn’t want. Anything for which she wasn’t prepared.
But Buffy was prepared tonight. She licked lightly at the sensitive head of his cock before pursuing his shaft with long laps of her tongue.
“Ohhhh…fuck,” he groaned, eyes falling shut. As though she was the answer to some unholy prayer. “Oh, fucking hell.”
“More?”
He bucked, nodding desperately. “Buffy!”
She giggled and nuzzled his erection. “What do you feel?” she asked softly. “How…what’s…” She was never good at issuing demands during sex, so even asking that much made her flush in ways that she had hoped to have outgrown by now. Spike never poked fun at her, never even mentioned her inexperience. Granted, she was hardly as inexperienced now as she had been when they spent their first night together. There was simply something about Spike, about his intensity, that made it difficult for her. As though the wrong words would take her down a peg in his eyes.
Times like that, the depth of his love for her scared her shitless because it hammered in what exactly she stood to lose.
“Good!” he gasped. “So fucking good. Heat. The sun. Light. Buffy. Oh god, my Buffy. Mine, mine, mine. No one else.” Emboldened, Buffy began planting wet kisses along the underside of his cock. “Velvet,” he continued, arching again. “Satin. Buffy.”
“That’s quite a list.”
“Gonna be the death of me…”
She looked at him and she shook her head. “No,” she replied before engulfing him fully with her mouth, then drew him out again to whisper, “Never.”
Spike sighed and gasped again when she swirled her tongue along the tip of his cock. “Buffy. Oh, Buffy. Love you. Love you so much.”
Her eyes fluttered shut and she pulled back again, licking at his head again and again. Hoping he felt what she was trying to tell him without words—the things she couldn’t yet confess. Things she wanted to say but couldn’t.
She sucked harder in earnest, drawing him far into her mouth, then back and in again. Encouraging him to fuck her mouth, tongue massaging him every time his cock slipped back into her mouth. His skin was musky, salty, and so inherently Spike it had her pressing her thighs together in need. She wanted him to touch her, but not nearly as much as she wanted to drive him out of his mind. So she began pulling harder on his dick, savoring the saltiness of his skin and the way he bucked and trembled. The way he made her feel like a goddess even now.
“Buffy, I’m gonna… If you keep…” Another long sigh sailed through the room. “Gonna…”
Buffy withdrew just enough to whisper her answer. “It’s all right.”
“No. No. Inside you. Need to be inside.”
The next thing she knew, she had been hauled upward and resituated in his lap, her breasts pressed to his chest. Spike looked at her with awe in the iron dark. At some point, they had lost the moonlight, and it was just them. Trembling fingers explored her pussy, pressing inside to tease her dripping flesh. A tremor rumbled through her at that, and he fed her back a moan of his own.
His eyes found hers and he kissed her with such tenderness the need to cry resurfaced without warning. It felt different, for some reason. How it was so, she did not know. Only that it was the best form of different she had ever experienced.
He teased her vaginal folds with the head of his cock, then slowly slid inside. So slowly. It seemed tortuous hours had passed before he was fully within her.
“Oh fucking Christ,” he moaned when he was buried to the hilt, his face in the crook of her neck. He held still for long seconds, just hugging her to him as he drew mindless patterns across her back. A tremulous breath rushed through his body, and he brushed a kiss across her skin.
He was trembling. Buffy felt her heart leap at the knowledge.
“Spike?”
“God, I love you.” He lifted her off his lap just enough to torture them both before pulling her down again, impaling her on his cock. “So warm. You’re so fucking warm.”
“Uhnn…”
Spike began rocking with her rhythmically, cupping her face to see her eyes before bringing her mouth to his. His movements increased only slightly—his own insistence keeping their tempo slow. He liked it slow; granted, she knew he also liked it hot and hard. But it depended on the mood he was in—what he wanted to tell her with his body, and over the past few days, when they had time, he seemed to prefer this. Unhurried and indulgent. Deeper and deeper. God, she loved it.
Buffy’s eyes fell shut once more, her head falling back. She felt him change at the sight of her exposed throat, but it didn’t frighten her. It never did. Such was expected, and he had control of himself in seconds.
He had not bitten her yet. Not since their first night together. He lavished the mark he had given her then, kissed and licked and nipped at it, but didn’t touch it with his fangs. She didn’t know why and hadn’t asked since the night they’d made their relationship official
He had said he would. Someday. And honestly, Buffy didn’t know why she was suddenly so eager to feel his fangs in her throat. The thought would have disgusted her not too long ago. But with him like this, with him moving within her deep strokes, laving her neck and breasts with his lips, tongue, and teeth, she couldn’t help but wonder.
She also hadn’t forgotten what it had done to her. How it had sweetened the climax all the more. How hard it made her come.
“So much,” she heard him murmur. “Not enough.”
“What?”
“Buffy.” His thrusts deepened and he captured a nipple with his mouth, his hand brushing hair away from her face before skimming the length of her to stroke her clit every time his cock pushed back inside her. She mewled and rested her head against his. Her nerves were on fire. And when she felt his fingers become more insistent, it was all over. From where her orgasm had sneaked up on her, she didn’t know. Only that her body spasmed and clenched, and then he was coming with her, spilling inside her, bucking and gasping her name and telling her a thousand things in hurried whispers.
Something had changed. She didn’t know what, but she knew that it had.
He turned her world upside down so effortlessly. She wondered if he even realized he was doing it.
Spike cupped her face again, thumbs caressing her skin as his lips found her temple. “Always,” he murmured, leaving her to wonder if she had said that last bit aloud. But he did not elaborate, and she did not ask.
Some things were best left unsaid. Others were made for words.
This seemed someplace in between—somewhere between the iron and the silver.
Perhaps that’s where she was.