Chapter 16: Needs (3)
Buffy rested for a while against Angel, her head on his shoulder, unwanted thoughts cluttering her mind.
He had refused to drink from her. He had refused to let her taste him. She had wanted – no, needed – both things with such intensity, she could have screamed in frustration.
Yes, it had been fine. Sweet and loving, as she remembered him. Tender. Careful. He made her feel like a porcelain doll, too fragile to hold without uttermost care. Caresses as light as butterfly wings, when she had craved to be touched like there would be no tomorrow. She had begged for more. He hadn’t understood.
She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help comparing him to Spike. Spike who wasn’t afraid to break her, and who sometimes even seemed to try. Spike who knew exactly how much pressure to apply to each inch of her body to make her moan. Spike who could be rough and forceful one minute, and in a blink become gentle and delicate if he read that need in her eyes.
Thoughtlessly, she escaped Angel’s sleepy embrace and slipped on a t-shirt and shorts. Noticing the open window, she walked around the bed toward it. Before drawing the curtains, she threw a quick glance outside. What she saw made her freeze, though not in surprise.
Spike was leaning against the tree, head thrown back, eyes closed. He was dragging heavily on a cigarette. She wondered since when he had been there, just outside her room, just below the window. All of a sudden, his eyes were open and staring straight into hers. And her unasked question was answered. He had been there all along. He had heard all there was to hear. He knew. Her throat tightened, though she wouldn’t have been able to explain why.
It would be easy, so easy to make her come to him. Just a word, really, said with the right voice, and she wouldn’t be able to resist.
He had to see her. She had made him angry earlier when she so foolishly endangered herself. He knew she was alright, but at the same time he had to reassure himself. He needed to touch her, taste her, reaffirm his claim on her. Whoever she slept with, she was his Childe. He had responsibilities to her. And needs only she could satisfy.
“Come.”
A quiet and soft command in the night. He could see her climbing over the window’s edge, and carefully getting down to him, unconcerned by the fact that she was barely clothed. Then she was in front of him, waiting.
His hand rose to her face, caressing her cheek before sliding into her hair. He pulled her to him, his mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss. She responded to his touch by wrapping her arms around him, bringing the length of their bodies in close contact. Deliberately, he shifted to game mask and cut his tongue on his own fang. At the taste of blood, her kiss became fiercer, and she sucked his bleeding tongue into her mouth.
When she pulled away from him, her eyes were glowing with the same gold that shone in his. She didn’t say a word but bared her neck to him, as if she could guess. His mouth descended on the presented skin but he didn’t bite. Not yet. He wanted her to ask for it. Like she had begged the other.
“Please.”
A mere whisper was all he needed. His fangs penetrated her flesh and she groaned, in delight he was sure. Her own mouth found its way to the junction of his neck and shoulder. When she pierced his skin, the thought ran through his mind that she desired this as much as he did.
The first time, in the car, had been about comfort. This was pure need. This was.
A dream.
His eyes shot open, and immediately found hers. She was looking at him from behind her window, immobile.
Yes, it would be easy to make her to come to him, to take what he needed and give what she wanted. But he had been on the Childe side of the command voice before. He remembered how much he had hated it, hated not being able to say no. Hated it even when he wouldn’t have said no if he had had the choice.
He managed to break free of her gaze and walk away, turning one last time to see her close the curtains.