Chapter 33: Love
Observing the blonde sleeping next to her, Buffy was smiling. Both exhausted by their out of this world experience, they had fallen asleep soon after drinking Willow’s antidote, not even bothering to get under the covers. She had just awoken, refreshed and happy.
Her friends knew. Well, not all of them yet, so far only Willow and Tara did. And Tara had suspected for a while, ever since Buffy had confessed to her that she was sleeping with Spike. So mostly, Willow had been the only one taken by surprise. Still, she had reacted better than Buffy would have thought. She hadn’t even mentioned the Sire/Childe thing. The revelation that the Slayer had been shagging the vampire almost since her return and slowly been falling for him even before that, the big revelation Buffy had dreaded so much, had visibly shaken her. But she had caught up quickly, despite her sputtering and wide eyes, and managed to mumble good wishes of some kind. Tara had only smiled, probably both at what Buffy had said and at the redhead’s reaction.
Her sister knew. She more than knew, she approved. Dawn was absolutely delighted by the news. Her response had been to complain about the time it had taken Buffy to admit her own feelings. But, despite her crossed arms and scolding look, she had been smiling. Beaming, actually.
Spike knew. Of course, he had known for a while, claiming every so often that she was just in denial. Still, Buffy had realized something when the words passed her lips. Even if he always said he knew, he had doubted. She couldn’t blame him, really. After all the things she had made him go through, he certainly had reasons to doubt. And yet he had stayed around. He had kept hoping. She would always remember his look when she finally said it. It was exactly the same expression that had illuminated his face a few months back, when she had guided him inside her for the first time. Wonder, gratitude, bliss, love, all mixed into one.
And now, she knew. She had known since the first kiss, in the alley behind the Bronze. But at the same time, she had just discovered it. She loved him. So long, she had refused to realize it was indeed love and not something else. Being in love with a vampire. Been there, done that. Either he turned all evil on you and started killing and torturing your friends, or he ran away thinking you deserved more than what he could offer. Except. except Spike wasn’t Angel. Everyone, himself included, mentioned occasionally that he was still evil, just controlled by the chip. And what had been his ‘doctor’ episode if not an attempt at being the Big Bad again. Yet, Buffy was completely certain that, should the chip ever stop working, he wouldn’t go back to hunting. He wouldn’t, because that would be the fastest way to lose her. He had proven that he was willing to give up everything, give up who he was, just for her. He had been ready to, without a second’s hesitation. It had also confirmed what she had realized a few days earlier. He wouldn’t run away. Whatever she did, whatever she said, he was in her life for good. He had followed her in her hallucination, had been ready to stay there with her if it was the only way. Seeing him human in front of her had been a shock. Vampire or human, Spike or William, he was the same man. No difference, no split personality, no monster, just a man who had learnt to coexist with his demon. All this time, she had refused her feelings because of what he was, refused to see he was just as human as her. He didn’t need a soul to be, he just needed to love her.
A lazy finger traced her lips as his eyes opened slowly, staring straight into hers.
“Say it?”
She grinned at his request. Bringing her mouth just next to his, she let the words escape, soft and caressing. She kissed him, slow, tender kisses, trailing from his mouth down to his neck. He tilted his head in invitation, but she only kissed the healed marks she had left there before, repeating again the magic words. One after the other, the buttons of his shirt came undone. She kissed his marble skin as she exposed it, whispering against him. Soon, a soft purr was rising from his chest. His eyes were half closed, but she could tell he was still watching her.
She eased his arms out of the shirt. Her hands wandered on him, caressing, teasing, scratching lightly with a nail, before coming down to his jeans. More buttons to undo. He lifted his hips off the bed, allowing her to pull the denim down to his knees. She placed tiny kisses along his hard length, still repeating the same words. She flicked her tongue on the now moist tip of his shaft and he moaned.
“Buffy.”
The desire in his voice sent a shiver down to her toes. She wiggled out of her pants and panties, before sending her t-shirt and bra fly over the room. She straddled his thighs, rubbing her wetness against him, teasing him as well as herself. His hands settled on her hips, gently pulling her higher, until she was directly above his erection. Ever so slowly she lowered herself on him, repeating her mantra in a whisper as he filled her, stretched her, until she couldn’t tell any longer where her body stopped and where his started.
Holding on to her waist, he pulled himself up to a sitting position. Her legs and arms slid easily around him, encircling him, holding him tight against her. Unhurriedly, she started rocking against him, barely moving, just enough to create a little friction. He nibbled along her jaw, working his way toward her lips. When at last he reached them, his tongue sneaked inside her mouth and caressed all over, exploring as if for the first time. He was now thrusting in time with her, though their position didn’t allow for much room. Neither of them made an attempt to change it, though. The embrace made up with tender intimacy what it lacked in movement. Nimble fingers sneaked between their joined bodies, finding her clit, tweaking it once, then twice. The third time, she moaned into his mouth. He pulled away, grinning.
“Say it,” he demanded in a husky voice.
When she complied, he pulled on her throbbing clit. She repeated the words, and he repeated his actions, over and over, until the pressure building inside her became too great. One last time, she said it, finishing in a cry as her orgasm swept through her, tightening all at once her arms, legs and walls around him. She felt him quake in her embrace, in her, a quiet moan escaping his lips. He rested his forehead against hers, his baby blue eyes looking deep into her soul.
“Say it again,” he asked quietly after a few minutes of silence.
She faked a pout. “You’re going to get tired of hearing it.”
“Never.”
He kissed her, light and tender, before pleading again. “Please.”
Unable to repress a smile or to refuse him, she said it again.
“I love you.”