|
Title: Dark Need
Author: Laure Alexander (lara@sunflower.com) Rating: NC17 Warning(s): none |
|
Angel has been back a month and every time he looks at me it's with a look of
shame and disgust. It's as if he knows, knows that shoving that sword into him
was not my only betrayal. When he was himself again, the first thing he did was
push the hair aside from my neck and run his finger over the mark there--the
bite mark I tried so hard to hide--and as he looked down into my eyes and asked
me who, all I could do was stutter some stupid lie as my reply. I think he knew,
because he just walked away, and now, every day, I feel the shame, the shame I'd
die to have again. My first sexual experience was with the man I love and it was beautiful. What it wasn't was a mind-blowing, highly erotic, screaming his name as I came experience. But, then, I didn't know any better, and I was so in love that it was perfect. There was only a twinge of pain and then such tenderness and pleasure. Every touch was perfect, just enough pressure, just enough gentleness. His kisses were passionate, but controlled. When he entered me, he did it so slowly I thought I might scream in frustration, but then he began to move and I learned to follow. It didn't last very long. He'd been celibate a long time, I suppose. I was a bit embarrassed when he slid his hand between us and caressed me with slow, sure strokes until I came, but the pleasure erased all other feelings. His moan of bliss when he came made me feel so good inside, so powerful. Afterwards, we held each other, murmuring our love for each other until we fell asleep. Everything went to hell after that, of course. My second sexual experience was quite different. Although Angel made me feel needed and loved and beautiful, the second man to have me showed me what I really am. What I really need. ~~~~~ They walk side by side, warily eyeing each other. Two enemies, joined by a common purpose. "It won't happen till dawn," Spike mutters. "That gives us nearly six hours." Buffy shrugs. "I'd suggest grabbing a frappacino, but I'm kinda wanted by the law here." He glances around, then up, just as a big drop of water hits him in the forehead. "Shit." Thunder cracks and it begins to rain. Grabbing her arm, Spike drags Buffy into an alley, taking cover in a deeply recessed doorway. "Look, it's only five more blocks," Buffy begins to protest, when a lightning bolt slams into a dumpster across the alley. As the ozone crackles and garbage catches on fire, they both jump back, shielding their eyes. "God hates me," she mutters. "Looks like we're stuck here for awhile," Spike replies, peering out into the now torrential downpour. Leaning back against the door, he reaches into his duster and takes out a cigarette and his lighter. Cupping his hands around the cigarette to shield it from the wind, he lights it, then takes a deep, satisfying drag. "Those things are bad for you." Spike cocks an eyebrow in her direction and draws in more nicotine. Frowning, Buffy moves as far away from him as possible and slides down to sit on a convenient crate. She wraps her arms around herself and stares morosely out into the rain. After a long silence and the smoking of three cigarettes, Spike drops easily down to the cement stoop and runs a hand through his hair. "Want to make a bit of conversation, luv?" "Don't call me that." She doesn't look at him. Rolling his eyes, Spike tries again. "You really ready to do it this time? Kill the bastard?" "...Yes," she replies, her voice tight with anger. "Good." Buffy swivels her head to look at him. "But, he's your sire, right? Shouldn't you be fighting by his side and all that, loyal and true." "That's a puppy dog you're talking about. Angelus preached independence from day one. 'Course, didn't hurt that he buggered off for a century either." "So, you developed into your own man, so to speak, while he was away?" Spike smirks. "I was always my own man, pet. Just became my own master once I was free from the poof." "And Dru?" The smirk tightens to a frown. "She's not strong like I am." "Went back to her daddy, huh?" Buffy's smile is just a tad malicious. "She doesn't know any better." "Maybe she does, Spikey." A low growl fills her ears and she mentally backs off, muttering, "Sorry." "No you're not," he flippantly replies, but shakes off his anger. "'Course you'd say that. You've only been had by him." "How would you know that," Buffy stammers. Spike holds up a hand, ticking off the points. "One, you used to smell like a virgin and now you don't. Two, he told me all about it." Turning bright red, Buffy looks away and swallows hard. "Great," she mutters dully. "Yeah, told me you were the sweetest little thing, all hot and horny..." "Shut up," she interrupts him harshly, lashing out with one foot and kicking him in the shin. Spike clutches his leg and howls, "Ow! What was that for?" Gritting her teeth, Buffy glares at him. "For lying." "I'm not lying. All he does, well when he's not plotting to kill you and your friends, is go on and on about how fucking you was the best thing that ever happened to him." The redness on her cheeks quickly pales and she drops her eyes. Finally, she forces out a response, her voice low and hollow. "He told me I wasn't...any good." Realization hits Spike and he nods. "Ah, yeah, that's just like him. He wanted you insecure, luv." "So...so I..." She glances up at him. "I *was* good?" Spike smiles at this new side to the Slayer and replies softly, "Dunno, luv. Haven't had you myself." Her renewed blush sends a bolt of awareness through him and he lets his eyes drift slowly over her body. He's never really noticed before what a pretty creature she is... "Maybe I should give you a go..." Buffy's eyes widen and she jumps to her feet. "What?" Smiling sensuously, Spike glides his back up the wall until he's standing, then he takes a step towards her. She backs up and nearly falls over the crate. Her hand goes for a stake in her pocket and he intercepts it, dragging her hard against his body. "Let me go." She squirms and shoves him backwards in the small space. "You're insane and disgusting and..." This time he cuts her off with his mouth on hers. Using all his strength and skill, he pins her against the wall and kisses her until she's gasping for breath and clutching at his arms. A tiny part of her brain tells her to keep fighting, but it's been so long since anyone has touched her, kissed her, and her body is helplessly responding. She feels dampness seeping into her panties and blushes even deeper. Spike smells her arousal and smiles against her lips. Sliding his hands down from her shoulders where they were holding her tight to the wall, he catches her hips and pulls her against his groin, sinuously grinding his erection against her lower stomach. "Oh god," Buffy moans, the hard bulge confined behind denim sending sparks of longing through her. Her nipples tighten, her womb clenches, and she mewls as she kisses him back, tongue tangling with his in a deep, hungry kiss. One of his hands slips under her top to fondle her breasts through the lace of her bra, and her knees buckle. His body holds her up and his fingers slip inside the lace cups to knead her heated skin. "Like an oven you are, pet," Spike murmurs against her mouth while his fingers tease her nipples. His free hand slides between them and cups her mound through her pants. "Wet and hot." Buffy flushes more, embarrassed by his drawled words and the evidence of her desire. She tries to push him away, but her whole body is aflame with longing and she trembles against him. He shoves her coat down her arms, then tugs her shirt over her head. Her bra is pink and frilly and his cock throbs painfully at the sight of her nipples outlined against the lace. Buffy licks her lips and he captures them again, groaning into her mouth. Driving all thought from her mind, she tugs at his duster, finally freeing it and sending it to the dirty cement. Spike's mouth slides across her cheek, down her throat, and for a moment a pang of fear intrudes, but he passes on down to the tops of her breasts, and she clutches at his shoulders, arching her head back and holding him to her. His tongue laps at her through the lace, then, impatient, he yanks the bra down her arms letting her breasts spill from it. Dropping to his knees, he dashes kisses and licks across her trembling breasts before sucking one of her rose-colored nipples between his lips. Buffy cries out, grabbing his head and guiding his tongue across her nipple as spasms of lust roll through her. She can feel her orgasm building and her other hand fumbles with the fastenings of her pants, wanting him to touch her between her legs, wanting him inside her, filling that empty space left by her lost lover. With a wriggle of her hips, her pants slide down her legs and Spike catches them, tugging them down to her ankles. Never moving his lips from her breast, he finds the sides of her panties and pulls them down, too. Then he glides his fingers into the sopping heat between her legs and happily sighs. Buffy whimpers and presses her hands to the wall behind her, desperately trying to remain standing as Spike laps from one nipple to the other and runs his fingers up and down her swollen cleft, taking particular care to flick across her clit on each sweep upwards. With another cry, she comes, bucking against his hand, seeing stars behind her closed eyes. As he rises shakily to his feet, Spike licks his fingers of her inner juices and grins lustily. Buffy's eyes open and she pants softly. She watches as he lowers his hands and undoes his belt, then the fly of his jeans. He shoves the denim down just far enough and his cock springs free, long and hard, its mushroom shaped tip nearly purple with desire. Snaking out one arm, he wraps it around her waist and tugs her limp body to his. As he gives her a hard kiss, he fondles her bottom, rubbing her against his cock until they both groan, then he spins her around and pushes her down so that's she's kneeling on the long crate. "Wh--what?" His hand finds the nape of her neck beneath her hair and he pushes her head down, elevating her ass to just the right height. "Spread your legs, luv," Spike mutters huskily, and grins as she wriggles her knees as far apart as the pants around her ankles will allow. Her fingers curl around the edge of the crate and she stares down at the puddle growing in the alley, panting harshly as she awaits his next move. All this is new to her. She and Angel made love in the traditional position. It only seems right that Spike take her doggie style. She *is* about to let an animal fuck her, after all. Reddening even more, she glances over her shoulder in time to see Spike wrap his fingers around his thick cock and guide it between her legs. His other hand lands lightly on the base of her spine, his fingers caressing in a circular pattern as the head of his cock enters her. Moaning at the pressure, Buffy forces herself to relax, and he slides in farther. "Fuck...you're so tight," he hisses, pulling back and thrusting again until on the fourth thrust he's fully embedded. Draping himself over her back, he reaches for her breasts and fondles them as he begins to hump against her, driving his cock in and out of her tight, wet inferno. Buffy swallows hard and lets herself revel in the physical sensations of fucking. The position drives his cock to places she's never been touched, and she can feel her inner muscles clenching and retracting, caressing his shaft. As his thrusts increase in speed, his fingers pinch her nipples harder and harder, and she finds herself moving back against him, rocking on top of the crate. Feeling his balls tighten and his lust turn his thoughts to mush, Spike slams into her harder, his fingers tightening on her breasts. Her cunt begins to squeeze tighter and tighter, until he growls and throws his head back. With a final deep thrust, he comes, spurting his cold seed into her spasming channel. On the edge of her own orgasm, Buffy whimpers and bucks beneath him, as she feels him begin to soften inside her. Frustrated, she smacks her hand down on the crate then slides it down her stomach to her swollen clit. Spike's fingers push hers away, and he rubs the tender bundle of nerves just enough to send her over the edge. As she climaxes with a soft cry, she lifts her head, arching her neck, and Spike sinks his fangs into her flesh. Eyes widening in shock and fear, Buffy gives a silently scream and another orgasm crests through her, driving her wild beneath him. His cock swells again and he thrusts hard, pounding her down onto the crate as he sensuously draws blood from her. She grunts with each thrust, her breasts rubbing raw against the rough wood, her body on fire as the pain in her throat stimulates the pleasure between her legs and draws her into another climax. As he reaches a quick orgasm, he pulls both cock and fangs from her and slumps back against the wall. Gasping for breath and shaking from repletion, Buffy sinks down onto her stomach, her legs hanging over the edge of the crate, their combined emissions pooling between her quivering thighs. Spike stares at her, dazed. He's never come so hard and so fast the second go round. He had planned to fuck her for an hour or so, occasionally sipping from her, using her until they were both weak-kneed and mewling from too many orgasms. As a shudder of lust goes through him, he smirks evilly. Might still... Stunned by all that has happened, Buffy slowly staggers to her feet and fumbles with her clothing. It takes her two attempts and several gasping breaths before she manages to pull up her pants and even longer to adjust her bra. Dropping her eyes to the ground, she turns and searches for her shirt, not wanting to look at him. The flick of his lighter breaks the silence and she glimpses the flame and smells burning tobacco, then spies her shirt and quickly tugs it over her head. Spike watches her, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, pants only half-way fastened. He can tell she's embarrassed and confused...and totally satisfied. He grins in pride at that thought, relaxing against the wall, his own body still tingling. And he wonders if all Slayers are this damn good, or if it's just her. Huddling in her coat, staring blindly into the rain, Buffy slowly raises one trembling hand to the wound in her neck. Beneath her fingers she feels the healing holes, slick with blood and perspiration, and something clenches in her stomach. Lust and horror. "Gonna stake me for biting you?" Buffy doesn't turn, only swallows hard and presses the collar of her shirt over the bite mark. "Why didn't you kill me?" He's surprised by her question. Since teaming up with her, he hasn't had one thought of killing her. To be honest, he hasn't thought of killing her in a long time. "Why would I do that? Waste of a hot, wet cunt, if I do say so myself." He ducks her punch, grinning as she snarls in fury. Good, past the embarrassment and into anger again. Much better. Blocking her next blow, he staggers back from a kick to the stomach and nearly swallows his cigarette. "Truce," he chokes, spitting out the cigarette, "we have a bloody truce." "Bastard," Buffy hisses, fists clenched, eyes blazing. "Didn't seem to matter a few minutes ago when you were whimpering and fucking me like an animal." Tears sparkle in her eyes and she kicks him in the shin. "You're a pig, Spike." Grim satisfaction fills her as he hops around the small space, clutching his leg. "Fine, whatever," he hisses through clenched teeth. "It's stopped raining, can we go now?" Spinning around, Buffy strides angrily and quickly from the doorway, knowing he's following her. When he moves up to her side, she ignores him, her anger keeping her silent and hopefully preparing her for what she has to face, both her mother and Angelus. ~~~~~ Spike was good to his word, he helped me and then took off with Drusilla. I hope he never comes back. I pray he never comes back. I ran away that summer, trying to hide from myself, but I was haunted by dreams. Somehow almost all my dreams would shift from me with Angel on the beach, on picnics, riding carousels and eating ice-cream, to ones of me fucking Spike in every way imaginable. The dreams with Angel were always in the sunlight, but those with Spike were at night, in the dark. And every time he came, he would croon to me that the dark was where I belonged. I began to believe him. When I returned to Sunnydale and my mom and my friends, it took a while for things to head in the right direction in my life, and just as everything was finally getting better, Angel returned from hell. And he knows. Every time he looks at me, I know he knows everything. The lie I told him, that I had been caught unawares and a nameless vampire had sunk his fangs into me, is so weak he can't help but disbelieve it. He's never confronted me about it, but he's also never touched me the same way he did before my seventeenth birthday. No kisses, no lingering caresses. He helps me train, he helps me patrol, but we're no longer anything near boyfriend and girlfriend. And...though I do love Angel and always will...a growing part of me is glad he no longer wants me. Whether it's due to some intrinsic knowledge that I slept with Spike, or just because we're two very different people now, either way I know we're no longer meant to be together. That saddens me, but it also feels right. Though we're both creatures of darkness, he's not the dark I need. More and more I crave what I found in that alley. I hate myself for wanting it, but I can't stop myself. Spike awakened something inside me that Angel never could find. Not lust or love or desire or even need, but something dark and hungry. I wouldn't even want Angel with his soul to try to sate that hunger, and though any other vampire probably could, I only want one, the one who bit me, marked me as his. But, he'll never come back and I won't go looking for him. Someday the darkness and hunger growing inside me will consume me, and I wonder if this happens to all Slayers. I'll probably find out soon enough. We don't live long, after all. End |
| return to Laure Alexander's fanfiction |