9. The Struggle
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hope half of my readers don't
hunt me down and stone me after this chapter...lol...just trust me that
I am going places with this story that have not been revealed yet, and
although it may appear that there is a clear winner in this
chapter...that may not be so clear in coming chapters...
Hope you all continue to enjoy the story as it goes along.. :)
JL
Spike wondered through the haze of desire that surrounded him where the
young Slayer had learned the incredible moves she seemed to be coming
up with so quickly. Oh, he had taunted her, tried to insinuate that she
was easy, a slut, with too much experience for her own good. But he
knew that in reality, Buffy was anything but that.
Angelus had made no secret of the fact – in fact, had considered it a
matter of pride for him – that he had been the first for the innocent,
virginal girl that the Slayer had been at the time. And as the Slayer
had foolishly tried to keep up that doomed relationship, until the
point when the Great Poof had left town over the summer – well, Spike
was no fool.
He had enough experience in relationships and reading people to know
that the college boy who had recently deceived and hurt her had been
nothing more than a rebound weakness from the pain of Angel's leaving.
He highly doubted that the Slayer had any sexual experience at all
beyond those two clueless wankers – and those experiences had clearly
been less than confidence-inspiring.
So where in the bleedin' hell was *this* coming from?
The Slayer had stunned him by taking charge the way she had, grabbing
him and throwing him down on the bed, forceful and confident in a way
he had never imagined that she could be. Of course, she was under the
mistaken impression that he was completely under her power already, and
could not resist her if he tried.
That alone would inspire extra confidence in most people.
But there was a primal grace in her every move, a sense of power that
seemed to go beyond either of them personally, to something deeper,
some inherent part of her nature that she had probably not known even
existed before today.
His demon recognized the power that was not Buffy's alone, but had
belonged to every Slayer before him, as the predator pinned her prey
down beneath her, and he realized that his situation was far more
dangerous than he had previously thought. It was a powerful,
breathtaking, terrifying sensation, that loss of control...
And also exciting, arousing, intense...
Spike knew that he should be focusing on getting the victory in this
little match. This was his chance to get back the upper hand, to make
the Slayer finally see once and for all that he was no one to be
trifled with. He could show her that she was not the only one with
inherent, natural power.
And yet -- all he could think about was the silken touch of her skin
against his, as her hands moved slowly up and down his body,
intensifying his need with every expert touch, as she slid her body
slowly up and down on his, easing him deeper inside her, and then
rising up off of him, over and over again in an act of blissful torture.
*Okay -- get it together, Spike!* he told himself warningly, trying to
make his thoughts make sense above the roaring in his ears and the
powerful sensations coursing through his body. *You've got to do
this...you've only got one chance to -- *gah*!*
A rush of desperate desire went through him as the Slayer's soft lips
against his throat turned to tiny sharp teeth, nipping lightly at his
sensitive skin in a gesture that should have been playful – though
instinct told him it was anything but.
She raised up to look him in the eye through narrowed, desire-darkened
eyes that shone with a predatory light. The look sent a shiver of fear
down his spine, knowing that he was at her mercy in ways that a master
vampire should never allow himself to be at the mercy of a Slayer – at
the same time intensifying the need that he felt for her, making him
long to possess her as his own, to tame this wild creature that was so
dangerously near to taming him.
*Right, then...come on now, mate...get it together...* he told himself
urgently, knowing that if he did not get back control quickly, he would
never get it back at all.
He caught both of them off guard when he suddenly flipped them over so
that he was on top of her, leaning down to tenderly kiss her shoulder,
his hands sliding around in front of her, one lightly caressing her
left breast, as the other slid down between them to where their bodies
joined, his lips edging nearer to her throat.
There was no mistaking the menacing growl that came from the Slayer's
throat, that sent chills down his spine even as he wondered at its
source. He had never heard a human girl make a sound like that in all
his life and unlife, and it stopped him short – that, and the warning,
calculating look in emerald green eyes, as one powerful hand shot up to
lock around his wrist, stilling his motion over her breast.
*Don't let her see...gotta get control...come on, Spike, you can do
this...*
he told himself, his mouth suddenly dry with a mixture of emotions that
he could not have defined by this point if he had tried, as he raised
his head and looked down at her, thinking fast. Had to keep the small
advantage he had managed to gain.
"Buffy," he whispered. "Please...I can make this so good for you,
Buffy..."
As he spoke, the hand she had not stopped went to work on the most
sensitive part of her body, and the Slayer let out an involuntary gasp
of pleasure, her head rolling back slightly in spite of her
determination to keep the upper hand in this little game.
He smiled to himself for a moment, wiping it from his face in an
instant when her eyes opened again and she looked back up at him,
clearly struggling to keep control herself. He kept his eyes wide and
seeking, and thought to himself as he uttered them that his next words
were pure bloody genius.
"Let me please you, Buffy...please...I can make you feel so good..."
The Slayer could not resist the invitation of his words, in combination
with his expert touch, and she relaxed with a little moan, pressing his
hand back against her breast and releasing his wrist, her hands running
up and down his back as he went to work on her long-neglected body.
"Buffy," he whispered, lowering his lips to her throat, suppressing a
smile.
Instantly, one of her hands went to his head, fisting in his hair and
yanking his head back hard, as she snarled in a hoarse whisper, "*No*!"
So the Slayer was not quite as lost to the feeling as she appeared, he
realized.
*Not yet.*
She was wise enough not to allow her vampire lover to get that near to
her throat. Even in her passion, she maintained enough caution to
prevent him the possibility of biting her.
*No matter,* he thought with a smile and shrug that he kept only in his
mind for the moment. *Soon enough I'll have her throwing caution to the
wind...and then, she'll be mine!*
He moved his lips to her mouth instead, gently pressing his tongue to
her lips, begging entrance which she swiftly allowed, his fingers
working with gradually building intensity around her sensitive breast
and sodden, aching center, still filled with him. The combined
sensation of his fingers and his body inside her was almost more than
she could take, and the Slayer through back her head with a strangled
little cry of mingled need and the satisfaction of it.
"God..." she whispered. "Spike...touch me...so good..." she gasped.
He allowed himself a smile that she couldn't see, with her eyes closed
as they were, knowing that he was very close to the victory he was
seeking. A few more minutes under his hand, and she would forget all
about her previous caution. She would be his for the taking.
"Buffy," he whispered, lowering his head slightly, edging nearer to her
throat. "Sweet, pretty Buffy..."
She gasped. "Spike," she whispered. "Yes...yes...Spike..."
He stared at her, wide-eyed, drinking in the sight of her red,
trembling lips – her expression of utter ecstasy. God, he wanted her so
bad! He had not even realized how badly he wanted her. He had known for
a long time now that he was attracted to the girl, and she to him, but
never had he thought that it could ever go beyond that.
Now, the thought of what he was about to do, the thought of making the
Slayer his for the rest of her life – in combination with the sheer
desperation of need she was expressing for him – she wanted *him*, too
– made him long for her, long to make her his and no one else's – for
the rest of her life.
She was beautiful, and powerful, and utterly amazing, as he took in
every contour of her face, her body beneath him – and soon...she would
be
his.
She was so close to the edge now, he knew she was about to reach her
peak – and when she went tumbling over the edge, he would seize that
moment of weakness and use it to make the Slayer his own.
He thrust slowly inside her, moving in rhythm with the motion of his
hand, removing his hand from her breast and daring to place it behind
her head, pulling her up into a kiss. He kissed her deeply, intensely,
savoring the taste of her, the feel of her body under and around him.
"Buffy," he whispered against her lips, his voice low and hoarse with
need. "Buffy, love..."
"God! Spike..." she replied in a breathy whisper, as his lips slid down
from her mouth, down toward her throat again – and she did not object.
Her body slowly rocked with his, her arms sliding slowly over his back,
his buttocks, pulling him closer to her, edging nearer to the
fulfillment of her need, as his mouth edged nearer to the fulfillment
of his desire. She didn't seem to notice as his lips slowly parted over
the throbbing vein in her throat, pulsing rapidly with her accelerated
heartbeat.
Cautiously, he sucked gently at her neck for a moment, savoring the
sensation as her hot, rich blood rose to the surface under her mouth.
He waited a moment, wondering if she would react, would stop him – but
her only reaction was to moan softly in pleasure at the sensation.
"Buffy," he whispered against her throat, his words coming out in a
rhythmic chant with the motion of their bodies together. "Want you so
bad....gonna make you feel so good, Buffy...gonna make you...make
you..." His
voice lowered as he parted his lips, his fangs exposed, though her eyes
were closed, in the throes of her passion.
"*Mine*!" he growled possessively, without warning, sinking his fangs
into her throat, drawing her blood from her body, the powerful taste
and sensation nearly bringing about his own orgasm instantly.
Buffy drew in a sharp gasp for breath that was of sheer pleasure at the
sharp unexpected shock of sensation – followed by a soft moan, as she
felt the blood being pulled from her body.
And then – the powerful feeling of pleasure was followed by – panic,
overwhelming fear as she realized that Spike had not been under her
control completely. He had somehow managed to fool her, managed to make
her think that it was safe – and now, he was turning the tables on her.
She fought to think through the fear that was her first instinctive
reaction to what was happening.
Her next reaction was quite different.
A savage, primal fury filled her as the Slayer within her reacted to
what was happening. This creature that she had already claimed as her
own, if not completely, daring to drink from her so freely, to defy and
attack her in this way – an overwhelming rage overcame her at the
thought.
She could not let this happen.
Her eyes narrowed on a calculating smile. She knew exactly what to do.
An instant later, Spike let out a cry of mingled pleasure and pain --
as without warning the internal muscles of the Slayer's tight, hot
channel contracted around his swollen erection, hard, clutching him in
a merciless grip that was both intensely pleasurable, and agonizingly
painful.
He couldn't move an inch – couldn't pull away, couldn't thrust deeper
into her – he was held helpless in the viselike grip of the Slayer's
body. He realized that he had been found out, and the Slayer was
struggling to overpower him, and only drove his fangs in deeper to her
throat.
Had to draw...just a little more...weaken her, so she couldn't....
Her hand rose again to grip his hair, trying to pull his head back
again, but he hung on with all the strength he could find within him.
Then, she clenched her body around him again, at the same moment
yanking back hard on his hair, and in the moment that his grip relaxed
with the intensified pain and pleasure sensation that shot through his
body, she jerked his head back hard, pulling his fangs out of her
throat.
He stared wide-eyed, gasping for breath, into narrowed, feral green
eyes glittering with anger and desire. With a calculating little smile,
she contracted her body around him again, her smile deepening when he
could not hold back a soft moan at the strange exquisite agony that
shot through his body, his head falling back into her hand,
unresisting, for a moment at the sensation.
When he opened his eyes and looked at her again, she had reversed their
positions, and was once again on top of him, her body still holding him
fast and pinning him down to the mattress.
"You want to claim me, vampire?" she whispered, and her voice had a
sharp edge to it that made him shudder at the sound. Her oddly
glittering eyes searched his, a cool smile playing about her lips.
He could not respond – could not find words. The game was lost -- *he*
was lost – in the power of the sensations she was making him feel.
She leaned her face down close to his, her smile fading to a hard line,
as she said in a low voice of power, "No. I reject your claim, Spike.
*No*!"
She paused before she spoke again. "You are mine," she said in a voice
of quiet certainty, her lips inches from his. "Mine...say it..."
Even through the overwhelming sensations that filled his body, that
drove him further and further out of control, Spike knew that he could
not give in to that command. "No," he whispered, gasping for breath as
she tightened her body around him again. "*No*!" he still insisted.
And what she did next stunned the girl, but not the Slayer, who knew
the profound shift of power that was taking place in that moment, and
knew what she had to do to make it take place.
Buffy's hand gripped his hair, yanking his head back and baring his
throat to her, and her mouth fell on his throat, strong, blunt teeth
clamping onto his sensitive skin with bruising force. He gasped at the
pain and shock of it, his hand rising to try to pull her back, but
pulled back down and pinned to the mattress as she only bit down
harder, harder, until she broke his skin.
She pulled back suddenly, and his eyes widened in shock at the sight of
her lips, stained red with his blood. "*Mine*!" she insisted in a
possessive growl of menace, some powerful force in her eyes making him
look away.
"No," he repeated, but his voice was weaker – less certain.
Once again her mouth fell to his throat, and he cried out as she began
to draw his blood into her mouth, sucking hard and filling her mouth
with the warm, coppery fluid that he had just drawn from her own body.
The rush of being drank from was something that he had not felt in
years, and the feeling overwhelmed him, sending his senses spinning
around him and his thoughts fleeing his mind.
When she raised her head again, he was awestruck at the wild power in
her expression as she met his eyes fiercely. "*Mine*!" she snarled
again, jerking his head back as she did to emphasize the word.
He could not speak; simply looked away, refusing to give in to her. He
couldn't...he just...he couldn't...
She studied his face for a long moment – and her next words left him
breathless.
"I've never wanted anyone like I want you, Spike," she informed him in
a voice of quiet intensity, her eyes blazing with need and
determination. "And you *will* be mine!"
With those startling words, she sank her teeth into his flesh again,
harder than ever, and he felt the rush of painful pleasure at the words
and the contact shooting through his body, driving him to the edge of
his orgasm. He fought to maintain control, to hold back, a soft moan
escaping his lips nonetheless, but she only bit down harder, growling
against his skin, "Mine...mine...*mine*..."
Finally, the explosion hit him, and he lost control completely, lost in
the blinding release of his orgasm, which spiraled into hers, bringing
her to completion as well, as he threw back his head and gasped out in
a soft whisper, "Yours...yours, Buffy...yours..." as without his
knowledge
his face slowly shifted back to his angelic human form.
And the Slayer and the vampire collapsed together onto the bed, each
spent with the power of the fulfillment of their passionate need.