Nelly Furtado - Spirit Indestructible http://youtu.be/ej3SmDScjjY

When Buffy awoke, she could see sunlight glowing behind the curtains covering the French doors that led to their balcony. Her first thought was relief that she was still here mentally. She’d done it! She’d fought back the debilitating guilt! She'd closed her eyes and pictured Spike’s face in her mind’s eye, then focused on his eyes. They had been her anchor: those expressive blue eyes dotted with flecks of gold.

The memory of her victory sent a thrill of confidence and surety washing through her. She had done it! She could fight the madness. She knew how now. She had an anchor to the world of relative sanity; she had an azure sea of blue between her and the river of blood. She had Spike.  

Her body still tingled with desire even though she was deliciously sore from the previous night’s activities. Her skin flushed with heat as she remembered their lovemaking, and she felt her tender opening begin to pulse with renewed need.

Spike was spooned against her back. His bare body fit hers as if they had been made for each other. He felt cool and hard – in more ways than one – pressed against her. His top arm was draped across her ribs and breasts, and his hand lay over her softly beating heart. Buffy could feel his breath, cool and gentle, against the back of her neck.

She loved how he breathed, even in sleep. It was only a small thing, but it was one of many things that Spike did that made him seem so much more alive, so very different than … other vamps she’d known. She knew he’d hate being compared to Angel, but Buffy couldn’t help it. Since, thus far, he’d outdone his grandsire in every way, perhaps he wouldn’t be too upset if he managed to read her thoughts somehow. Even without a soul, Spike had stood by her, helped her, kept his word, and shown her undying affection. He’d been gentle and loving and …

A warm flush of emotion rose up in her, unfurling in her chest like a beautiful rosebud coming into full bloom, as she reflected not only on their night, but everything that Spike had done for her. God, was her mom right? Had she really fallen in love with him somewhere along the way when she wasn’t looking? Was she even capable of that? Maybe. Was that a bad thing? Not right this minute perhaps, but one day it would be bad: very, very bad. One day her mission would come between them; one day her mission would drive him away and leave the beautiful rose to wither and die inside her. How many times can the flower of love be charred to ashes before your heart dies along with it?

Buffy's chest tightened with pain, but she resolutely pushed the disturbing thoughts away. She didn't want to think about that now; that wasn't today. That worry could wait for another day. She didn’t want to let go of this bright, shining feeling just yet. The day of reckoning would come soon enough, today she just wanted to feel happy and desired and loved.

Buffy closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as she twined her fingers in Spike’s where they rested over her heart. She could barely remember the last time she felt this way. Safe. Loved. Desired. Sexy. … Completely in love? Did she dare let herself admit that? She had a mission: make a baby. He didn’t have any desire for such a mission. Could she really allow herself to be in love with that chasm between them? Shoot! How had her thoughts gotten back to angst again? Grrrrr! Stop thinking, Buffy! Buffy and thinky are non-mixy, she admonished herself. But she was so confused, her emotions so tangled... 

Buffy’s thoughts were thankfully interrupted by a gentle kiss on her shoulder. The pins and needles of desire that had been gently tingling her core burst into flames of utter, primal need with the simple gesture.  Who needed thoughts, anyway? Thoughts were waaay overrated.

“Morning,” she murmured, turning her face to look over her shoulder at him.

Spike dropped a kiss lower on her arm then touched his lips to hers. “‘Ello, cutie,” he replied against her mouth. His voice was rough with sleep and it rumbled against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Spike slid his hand down from where it rested over her heart to cup her breast gently as he kissed her lips again. Buffy moaned as he flicked his thumb over her nipple, bringing it to hardness in an instant. She reached back and laid her palm against his cheek, holding him in place as the kiss deepened.  Her hips swiveled in slow circles, pressing her ass back against his erection. Spike moaned into her mouth as the globes of her ass moved over him, stroking his cock to painful hardness.

Spike slid his hand down over her flat stomach and cupped the sweet mound at her apex. “You … alright?” he asked, breaking the kiss. He began nibbling at her neck as he slid a finger between her folds and into the dew of desire that covered her.

“Mmmm…” Buffy moaned, her back arching in pleasure as he teased her pussy. “Want you …” was her only answer.

Spike circled her clit with his slick fingers, something so gentle that Buffy thought she’d explode in frustration. His teeth and lips continued to suck and nip at her neck as his fingers explored and played. His own hips began to move in the same rhythm as Buffy’s, pressing his rod against her ass harder with each passing moment.

“So wet you are for me,” he murmured against her golden skin. “You feel like heaven.”

Spike pulled his fingers out of her wet folds and up to his mouth, then sucked her juices from his fingers with a lascivious moan.  “Taste like sweet ambrosia, you do. So fucking sexy – so beautiful. Love you so much, Buffy,” he purred against her skin, lowering his hand back to find her quim again.

Buffy’s face flushed with equal parts embarrassment and glee. No one had ever done that before. No one had ever talked to her like this before. She found herself turned on even more by his words, his praise, his moans and growls and blissful curses. She never realized how sexy words could be. She felt like he could almost make her cum just whispering sweet, dirty nothings in her ear.

Buffy lifted her top leg and draped it back over Spike’s, opening herself up to him. “Need you, baby. Fuck me … make me cum,” she purred, trying to sound like she’d said such things all the time.

Spike’s hand slid away from her pussy and over her hip, then down between their bodies. He guided his cock down the crack of her ass, pausing at her puckered hole a moment and teasing her with a gentle push. Buffy gasped at the sensation and wondered what it would be like to do that. He said he’d done it before, and the thought of it made her heart race faster.

Spike smirked behind her and slid his cock down between her thighs. He pressed between her folds, not entering her, and coated himself with her juices. Then he pulled back and once again began teasing her ass with the slick head of his shaft. Buffy’s body jerked with the sensation as he passed back and forth over the sensitive flesh there, then pressed against her opening.

“Like that, do ya?” Spike rumbled as he leaned forward near her ear.

“It’s … ummm … a little scary but …” Buffy gulped, embarrassment overtaking her.

“We’ll need more lube for that, pet. Don’t wanna hurt you. And with your tight ass, a butt plug'll be a must.”

Buffy’s body stiffened and went completely still. “Excuse me?” she growled defiantly.

Spike laughed that rolling, melodic laugh of his. “That’s not a put-down, luv,” he assured her as he let the pressure off her puckered hole and slid his cock down to the apex of her thighs. “A little pain just adds to the pleasure, but it’s a fine line. Believe me when I say the thought of shagging your tight ass sends every drop o’ blood I got south o’ the border. But need t’ do it right.  I promise I’ll make it good for you, pet. Trust me.”

Buffy relaxed, then nodded. “I do,” she admitted seriously, hoping the tone of her words expressed the depth of her trust.

Spike bit his lip and his Adam’s apple bobbed, swallowing back a 'whoop!' of joyous exultation. He knew it was more than just trust in sex that she meant. She trusted him. He was ‘in her heart’. He was her 'baby'. Could love really be that far away?

Without further warning, Spike pressed his hips forward, dipping his cock into her quim. Buffy gasped as her sore, sensitive opening was again stretched to accommodate him, and her nerves blazed with a wave of stinging pain. She tried to make it sound like a gasp of pleasure, but it didn't quite work. He’d surprised her a little; her mind was still back on butt plugs and why the thought of a little pain with the pleasure seemed so perfect. Oh God, was she some kind of deviant? Well – duh! Obviously! What was your first clue? The vampire in the bed behind you, maybe?

Spike stopped. “Thought you said you were alright,” he said, concerned.

“I am. Just a little … sore. But I want you … need you. Just go easy. A little pain makes it better, right?”

Spike pursed his lips, angry with her for lying to him, and was just about to pull out when she said, “I trust you.”

Spike dropped his lips to her shoulder again and began peppering gentle kisses over her heated skin. “I love you, Buffy.”

“I … know,” Buffy stammered back, feeling her heart twist. Why couldn’t you just say it to him? Would it really be so bad? But she couldn’t do it. It was too much. She had a mission. Love didn’t fit into that mission. She couldn’t bare her soul to him and then watch him walk away when her belly bulged with their child – a child he didn't want. She could not bear to watch another man walk away from her, not again. It would be too much to bear; it might break her.

She touched a hand to his cheek and turned his face to hers. Her lips found his and she moaned against his kiss as he slid the rest of the way into her.

Once sheathed in her heat, Spike stopped moving his hips, relishing the feel of her around him. The connection between them was more than physical; he could feel it when he was inside her. She might not be able to say the words yet, but he simply knew that it was there somewhere deep down inside her: love.

Spike slid his hand down over her hip again and skimmed his fingers over her dark curls. Buffy’s moan returned, and he felt her velvet walls tighten and pulse around his length. Spike continued to tease her with his talented fingers, never moving his hips. He caressed her outer folds, petting them with gentle touches, and he could feel her desire building higher. Her body quivered under his touch, her inner muscles jumped and jerked uncontrollably, blissfully clenching her supple quim around his hardness.

“God, Spike, please …” she murmured against his lips, begging him for release.

“Please what, luv?” Spike teased. “Tell me what you want.”

“Make me cum.”

“How … what should I do?” he continued. “Tell me, Buffy, tell me what you want.”

“You know…” she protested breathily.

“Want to hear the words from your pretty, pink lips.”

Buffy panted for breath, leaning the side of her head against his over her shoulder. She battled her inner-good-girl to be able to bring the words to her lips. She loved hearing him say them, why should she not expect the same to be true for him? But what if she didn’t say it right? What if he made fun or laughed? She swallowed hard. Trust. I trust you.

“Your fingers … play with my … pussy,” she began tentatively, her breath catching in her throat.

Spike moved his fingers between her folds and began teasing her clit with feather-soft touches. “Like this? Talk to me, pet,” he requested, his voice deep with desire.

“Feels so good,” Buffy breathed, closing her eyes and letting the feeling wash over her. Goose flesh prickled her skin as he ghosted fingers over and around her clit, his cock still buried in her tight channel.

“A little harder … press down and … gahh!” Her body jerked when he followed her instructions. Bolts of trembling pleasure shot out from her core, down her legs, and curled her toes.

Spike’s eyes closed as her pussy fluttered around him, building to her climax, and nearly sending him to one of his own. Don’t be a git! he implored himself, opening his eyes to watch her beautiful, strong body tremble against him.

“Yes,” Buffy breathed. “Now … tease and then … harder and tease … and … oh, God! Yes … Spike … yes!” she screamed, her hands fisting in the sheets as her body convulsed in pleasure.

Spike continued his ministrations to her pussy, keeping her flying in the clouds for as long as he could. Her pussy clenched around him, milking him, demanding his cum, and he moaned with the painful pleasure of it. Spike could feel the slickness of her cum coating him as she rode out the waves of euphoria under his hand. Her face contorted into a mask of bliss and her whole body flushed with a sheen of perspiration. Her beautiful tits danced and he wished he could touch them …

“Touch your tits, Buffy. Wanna see you play with your nipples, pet,” he murmured near her ear. He wasn’t sure if her mind was functioning well enough at that moment to obey him, but after a couple of seconds she brought one hand up to tug and twist her dusty-pink tips.

Her body began to shudder again and Spike redoubled his efforts, teasing her pussy with his long, lithe fingers as she did the same with her breasts. Buffy screamed out as her body stiffened and her wet pussy released another flood of cum over him.

“Love to feel you cum, pet. Got any idea what you do t' me? So bloody hot you are. So tight and wet. God, Buffy … can’t get enough o’ you,” he rumbled against her skin as she surfed the waves of bliss yet again.

Before she’d come all the way down from the tidal wave of pleasure, Spike began moving against her, pulling out slowly and pushing back in. She gasped at the new sensation, the soreness of her tender opening only a vague shadow in the periphery of her awareness.

“Yes, Spike … so good. You feel sooooo ... f-fucking good,” Buffy gasped, stammering slightly over the 'f-word', as her fingers continued playing with her tits. Spike hadn’t moved his hand either and he went back to the soft teasing caresses around her aching bundle of nerves.

“You like my cock inside you, Slayer?” he purred against her flushed skin.

“Yes…” she panted back, moving her hips in time with his easy rhythm.

“Love being in you,” he groaned back.

“What’s it … feel like?” Buffy wondered as his thrusts into her tight channel grew more urgent.

“God, Buffy …” he moaned. “Overwhelming. Too much t’ describe.”

“Try…” she pleaded. “Love to hear you … just talking.”

Spike slowed his strokes and began kissing a line of fire from her shoulder to her ear. As he spoke he nibbled and sucked on her earlobe and neck between each thought.

“Like bein’ born.” –Kiss– “Like dying.” –Lick– “Paris in the spring.” –Nibble– “Rio during Carnival.” –Suck– “Snow on Christmas morning.” –Moan– “Summer sunshine on a clear, blue sea.” –Kiss– “Mist in the mountains.” –Suckle–“Rain on a tin roof.” –Lick– “Like warm, gooey caramel and soft, fluffy clouds.” –Flick– “Thunder rolling over a white sand beach at sunrise.” –Kiss– “A hurricane, a tornado, an earthquake, a tidal wave.” –Lick– “Heaven on earth. Like trust … like undying love.” –Moan–

By the time he’d finished talking, both of their bodies had stopped moving. The only movement from either of them was their chests, which both heaved with bated breath.

Buffy pulled away from him – sorry for the loss, but desperate to see his face – and slowly turned on the bed until she was facing him.

Spike ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes, his stomach twisting in fear that she’d poke fun at him, and waited. Such a bloody git. Why did he say that bollocks aloud? She didn’t want to hear that drivel. Couldn’t have just stuck with something simple and … less poncey?

Buffy put her hands on each side of his face and made him look at her. She searched his eyes for any hint of mocking – but she found none. He meant it – he meant it all.

“No one’s ever said anything like that to me before,” she whispered to him. “It was beautiful …”

Then she kissed him. It was the sweetest, softest, most loving kiss Spike had ever felt. It seemed to go on forever and at the same time end much, much too soon.

Spike bit his bottom lip as he pulled back to look into the depths of her green eyes. “You’re beautiful, pet. I’m just a git.”

Buffy gave him a small smile. “I guess. If ‘git’ means that you really know how to woo a girl – how to worm deeper into her heart, then that’s exactly what you are.”

Spike felt his lips turn up into a smile. “Yeah?”

Buffy bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

Buffy rolled onto her back, gently urging Spike to follow until he was settled between her thighs. Buffy wrapped her legs around his powerful, slim waist, and he guided his desire into the heat of her welcoming body again.

Spike dipped his head back down and returned her gentle kiss, teasing her lips with his tongue as he began rocking his hips against her again.

When the kiss broke, Buffy lifted her head up so her mouth was near his ear and whispered, “Take me to all those places, Spike … Paris in the spring, Rio at Carnival … the misty mountains, the sparkling sea … heaven … love.”

“God, Buffy – come with me, pet,” he begged as he rose up onto his hands and began moving in earnest against her.

Spike dipped his head and sucked one hard nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sweet pebble. Buffy’s body arched up to him, at once pressing her tit harder against his mouth and changing the angle of his strokes into her. His cock raked across her g-spot with each thrust as his pubic bone ground against her clit. He never let go of her tit, nibbling and sucking on it as she responded to him with no reservations.

The romance of Paris in the spring, the wild abandon and passion of Carnival, the gentle mist of a mountain morning, the tingling warmth of sunshine on a blue sea, the power of a tornado, the deep, rumbling magic of thunder, the overwhelming, unstoppable force of a hurricane, the childlike joy of snow on Christmas morning, and the simple comfort of rain on a tin roof rolled over them. One sensation merged into the next with no beginning and no end, like waves rolling in from a distant shore, each building on the last. It all built up to a heavenly climax equal to the power of dying and being born – to the power of undying love.

Dawn. Dawn … Dawn … Dawn … The chant of her sister's name came into Buffy’s mind just before she fell off the cliff of bliss and began to drown in the feeling of love that washed over her like a tidal wave. She hadn’t actually planned on doing that today – of calling on the monks' magic to rescue Dawn's soul – but all the emotions running through her overwhelmed her and urged her to throw caution to the wind. Spike made her feel so safe, so utterly adored, so anchored, and with the newfound confidence that she could fight the madness of her guilt, it suddenly just felt right, like the time was now.

Two small, sparkling globes of golden, empyreal light swirled down from the cosmos, twining around each other as if caught in a small cyclone. They both hit Spike squarely in the back just as he cried out with a roar of his impending release. Spike’s eyes clamped shut as his body tensed, his cum boiling up, swelling his cock, overwhelming him with a climax the likes of which he’d never felt before. He never saw the lights as they merged into one and glowed in his chest like St. Elmo’s fire, he only felt the blissful power of it.

His heart came to life, beating a wild staccato rhythm in his chest. It hammered against his ribs like a crazed, wild beast trying to escape its too-small confines. His blood pounded in his veins and his body was suddenly hot – on fire. The air filling his lungs was more than a habit, it felt like a burning need, something even stronger than his demon’s bloodlust, as he panted and gasped for more. Then his seed spilled into Buffy, her pussy grasping and undulating around him, pulling him into her, milking him, begging him for his very soul. The glowing light followed, flowing with his passion into her core.

A warm feeling of joy filled Buffy, welling up in her womb and gently flowing out to all parts of her body. She gasped, and her eyes flew open wide as the sensation engulfed her with a thrill of impalpable elation she’d never before knew existed. It was all things and nothing at all, indescribable, overwhelming, celestial.

Spike’s eyes were closed, but as if sensing the change in her, they opened just as wide. They were filled with the same overwhelming ecstasy as hers. It was nothing either of them had ever felt before, and, most likely, would never feel again. In that moment, they touched the pearly gates of heaven and it was exquisite.

Green and blue met and held for what felt like a lifetime – longer than a lifetime, an eternity. Spike struggled to hold onto the utter bliss, willing it to not end for either of them. Never, in a century and more, had he felt anything as powerful, as radiant ... as effulgent as this. Buffy tried to memorize every nuance of his eyes in those moments, embedding them into her heart and mind. She knew she would need something to keep her warm on the long, lonely nights that would too soon come. He was her anchor.

Then, as if they were puppets and someone had just snipped their strings, the two blonds both fell limp, unconscious, in each other’s arms. For many minutes the room was still and quiet. The only sounds breaking the silence were desperate, gasping breaths as they floated in the rapturous arms of their lover.

When Buffy blinked her eyes open, Spike was sprawled atop her. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, feel his warm breath against her skin. A thin sheen of perspiration covered his body, and splotches of color dotted his alabaster skin. She ran her hands gently over his back, wondering if this was permanent. Had the monks brought him to life? You’d think they would have the power to do that – they had the power to make Dawn out of nothing but thin air. But, even as she was contemplating all the ramifications and possibilities, she felt his heart slow, his body begin to cool, and saw the spots of color fade.

Buffy blinked tears back from her eyes. The tears weren’t for her, but for him. Each day she spent with him she found more and more layers to the man beneath the demon. It seemed to her, with what he was giving, what he had given, it would’ve only been fair to allow the man a new chance at life. But apparently the monks didn’t see it that way ... or maybe it just wasn't part of the bargain her mom had made.

Buffy continued to stroke his limp form as he lay atop her, a feeling of melancholy coming over her. She'd set the wheels in motion; there was no going back, no stopping it now. She’d have to leave him soon, before he found out what she'd done, and his love turned to hate for how she'd used and deceived him.

He'd pulled her back from the brink of a deep, dark abyss, he'd believed in her when no one else had, he'd leant her strength and courage and made her feel worthy again, and, however unknowingly, he'd helped first shape, then save Dawn's soul. And, for all of that and more, her heart had done what she’d hoped it wouldn’t, what she thought it wasn't capable of.  It had done more than let him in. It had fallen in love.

“I love you, William,” she whispered to him mournfully as a tear trickled down her cheek.

He didn’t hear.

**~**