Alternate Universe: Gift-less
Story Title: Turn Me On

Chapter Title:



I Need Your Love


Chapter Summary:


Buffy and Spike reconnect...


Episode Covered:

The weeks following the Gift

Thanks: To YOU for reading and to Anona for her grammatical and punctuation corrections and final review. All mistakes are mine because I simply cannot stop fiddling right up to the last moment.
Rating / Warnings:

SPOILER ALERT: This story is a cross-over with the 'Miles to Go' story in the Unexpected Universe Series. If you have not read that story, but intend to, then you should read it first! You do not have to read it for this spin-off to make sense. There is a *lot* more detail of what lead up to this story there, much more than is contained in the prologue, however. If you have read that story, then this prologue will be review for you.

NC17. Content is only suitable for mature adults. Contains explicit language, sex, adult themes, and other adult situations that some people may find objectionable. If you are under the age of 17 or find any of these themes objectionable – GO AWAY.

A throaty, sensuous growl rolled from Spike’s lips as he dropped a giggling Buffy onto her bed. His eyes sparkled as he took her in: she was an angel – with a sly, devilish grin on her face. Buffy pulled her shirt off over her head and flung it on the floor, then she pushed up on the bed until her head hit the pillows.


Spike’s eyes roamed over her golden skin, caressing her body with his gaze. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight that shone in through the window. It glimmered and moved like finely-spun gold. He remembered how it felt on his skin: soft and silky. It had glided over his body like a sinuous, flowing river of sensuality. His cock jumped at the memory of it, and goose-flesh erupted on his skin, as if he were feeling it all over again right that moment.


Buffy’s green eyes looked up at him, questioning but patient. She didn’t flinch away from him when their eyes met, but held his gaze with her penetrating green eyes. He felt like he could dive into their emerald depths and drown in them forever. There was something there now that hadn’t been there before – a soft confidence. Not Slayer confidence, she’d had that since the first time he’d laid eyes on her, but a woman’s confidence. Anyone else looking at her might not’ve even noticed, but Spike did. Perhaps the small change was from the realization that what he’d told her was true: he could touch her demon like no one else could. Or, perhaps, it was because she’d finally completely accepted the truth of her own creation. Whatever the reason, it suited her.


Her lips were full and rosy, swollen from their lustful kisses. They were still curved into a small smile now as she waited for him to come to her. He remembered the taste of her and licked his own lips at the memory.


Buffy was like no one he’d ever tasted before. Just like her own nature, she was a conundrum that he was still trying to suss out. She was a smorgasbord of flavors and textures: sweet and spicy, soft and crunchy, salty and overly-sweet. She was a light and airy mousse and a heavy brick of sharp cheddar cheese. She was as hot and scalding as fire-whiskey and as cool and refreshing as fresh lemonade on a hot summer’s day. He knew it would take years for him to taste all the flavors of Buffy, and he longed to sample every single one.


Buffy’s body was golden brown from the California sun and, just like the rest of her, contained contrasts. Her skin was soft and smooth, her curves supple. Her breasts begged to be touched, to be kissed – round and full with dusty pink areolas and nipples that hardened into pebbles with a touch. Her stomach was flat and hard. Her slim waist widened into inviting, luscious hips. Her protruding hipbones framed a soft mound of curls and a quim so heavenly that the mere thought of it made him believe there was a God. Her legs were strong and toned – not overly long, but lithe and graceful, like a dancer’s or a gymnast’s. He knew they could wrap around him like a vise and hold him prisoner – he longed for them to do just that.


“You are so beautiful, Buffy,” he murmured to her as he leaned over the short footboard on the bed and caressed her legs with his hands. “God, what you do to me…” he murmured as he lifted one leg up and began kissing and licking the length of it, from her ankle, past her knee, and to her inner thigh.


Buffy moaned at his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. His lips kissed a line of fire up her leg and she shivered as her whole body tingled in anticipation of him being inside her again. Her hips rose up off the bed as she felt the mattress between her legs dip down with his weight. “God, Spike … feels so good,” she moaned, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.


“Touch yourself, Buffy,” Spike requested again, as he’d done earlier.


Buffy opened her eyes and met his. The confidence that had been there seemed to have waned, and she again looked slightly unsure and embarrassed. Buffy suddenly felt like a virgin again – shy and uncertain.


Spike leaned forward over her body until his mouth was near her ear. “Show me what you do when you’re alone, Buffy,” he whispered to her. “You’re so bloody sexy … teach me … show me.”


Buffy took a deep breath and slowly uncurled her fists from the sheets. Spike pulled away, sat back on his heels between her outstretched legs, and watched her. Buffy closed her eyes and began using just the tips of her fingers to swirl soft circles on the flat of her stomach. Then she traced the circles up higher, around the sides of her breasts, then in an arc, circling her nipples gently.


Spike watched her, enthralled. He watched her fingers moving over her heated skin; watched her face relax and forget that he was even there. She raked her nails over her nipples and they hardened instantly. Spike bit his bottom lip, willing himself to not bend forward and suck those tits into his mouth and break the spell.


Buffy’s hands moved lower, back over her stomach, still making slow, gentle swirling patterns on her skin with her fingertips. Buffy bent her knees and opened herself up to him. Despite not needing breath, Spike’s chest heaved with excitement along with Buffy’s as her fingers delved into her mound.


Buffy’s hips bucked up and a low moan escaped her lips as she teased her clit – circling it, then ghosting a finger over top of the hard nub. She spread her outer lips open with the fingers of one hand as she teased the bundle of nerves, bringing herself to the very edge of orgasm.


Spike could stand it no longer. He slid his index finger into her slick, throbbing hole. Buffy’s eyes flew open and met his as her breathing became more and more erratic. His eyes smoldered in the dim light of the moon, and she thought for a moment she might actually burst into flames from the heat he was exuding from them.


The skull ring tugged momentarily on her tender opening. Buffy gasped at the sensation before it slid inside her. 


“Don’t stop. Relax … just feel, Buffy,” Spike encouraged her when her hand went still, his voice deep with desire.


Buffy swallowed hard and forced herself to relax. Spike slid another finger into her tight pussy and began a slow rhythm as her fingers went back to her clit and took up where she’d left off. The skull ring stretched and tugged at her opening every time Spike pulled his fingers out and pushed back in. It didn’t actually hurt, but was a new sensation that she found excited her even more. Spike began pumping into her faster and Buffy’s fingers on her clit changed from soft and teasing to more demanding as she reached the precipice of bliss yet again. She lifted one leg, bending her knee and opening herself to him even more. Her other leg was pinned down – she didn’t have the focus to even worry about it – maybe Spike was leaning on it or something.


Spike felt her pussy tremble and tighten around his fingers, and he pounded into her harder, the ring catching and tugging at her opening with every stroke. Buffy’s back bowed up off the mattress, her face contorted in pleasure as she fell over the edge. Just at that moment, Spike’s other hand touched one of her breasts. He squeezed tight, then rolled her hard nipple between his fingers, and Buffy screamed with pleasure as her body convulsed in ecstasy.


Spike thought he might cum just watching her and hearing her scream. He continued his assault on her pussy and tit as she continued to shudder beneath him. He slammed into her one last time and he was sure his fingers would be crushed with the power of her orgasm. Her cum gushed onto his digits, covering him with her bliss.


Her hand had gone still on her clit, no longer controlled with any conscious thought, because all conscious thought had left the building.  Spike dipped his head between her legs and captured the hard nubbin between his lips, sucking down hard. Buffy’s scream, which had begun to fade a second before, intensified as she bucked against his mouth and hand. Spike swirled his tongue over the bundle of nerves and Buffy jerked wildly under him. If not for vampire strength, and the fact that she had his fingers in a vise, she might’ve bucked him right off the bed.


As Buffy’s orgasm began to fade and her grip on Spike’s fingers loosened, Spike pulled out of her slowly – enjoying her sweet rapture. The sweet scent of her climax hit him full-force as Spike's fingers drew out of her, and he was overcome with a frantic, undeniable need. He shifted between her legs, pressed both legs up and out, and dropped his mouth back down to her cum-soaked pussy. Buffy’s hips twitched up against him as his tongue delved into her sweet heat. Her hands went to her breasts and began pulling and twisting as Spike had been doing a moment before.


Buffy called out, encouraging him with a litany of, “Spike! Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes!” as he ravaged her with his devilishly talented tongue. Spike licked up her slit, touching the tip of his tongue to her clit, then back down to her hole. He thrust into her, deep and hard, then back out over her sensitive flesh to suck down on her clit again. Buffy's body writhed beneath him, and her hissed litany of 'yes, Spike, yes...' drove him on, taking her higher, pressing her closer and closer to the ledge.


Buffy shrieked in pleasure as Spike drove her over the edge of bliss yet again and began demanding Spike take her deeper into the depths of that bottomless pool of dark ecstasy.  Hot, black, liquid flames licked her body and soul with endless waves of pleasure. Sparks of utter joy erupted in her core and cascaded out, covering her with a glittering blanket of pure freedom. She was flying and falling, dipping and soaring, drowning in the thrill of letting go – truly letting go – as she’d never done with anyone else.


And then the sensations bombarding her body changed. She felt Spike’s weight atop her, his cock pressing into her, and she plummeted deeper and deeper into the dark abyss. She wrapped around him with arms and legs. Her heels dug into the back of his thighs as she urged him on: deeper, harder, faster. Her hands found the hard muscles of his arms and back, which strained and bulged with effort as she demanded that he fuck her, and he willingly obliged.


Spike pounded into her as her words and screams, moans and hisses flowed over him, urging him to give her everything. Her pussy was tight and hot around his cool hardness, almost painfully so – but it was the most blissful pain he’d ever felt. Her body was supple and demanding under him. Her half-lidded eyes, heaving chest, and thundering pulse made him want melt into her, fuse with her. He wanted to literally give her his entire body, mind, heart, and, strange it may seem, soul … give her everything.


Spike fought against his body – against the man and the demon – as Buffy writhed and moaned and screamed and demanded that he not stop. The demon yearned to sink his fangs into her neck. The heavenly aroma of blood from where he’d bit her earlier wafted up into his nostrils as he drove into her, fueling the demon's lust. The man ached just as savagely as the demon, longed for the heavenly release of cum boiling up from his balls and surging into her.


Spike fought both of these desires as he slammed his hips down against hers violently, crashing his pubic bone against her clit, and thrusting his cock deep into her core time and time again. He was losing both battles – he could feel control slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.


When Buffy screamed at him to, “Cum with me, baby! Spike … cum with me!” he was undone. The few grains of control he had left blew away in the wind and he didn’t even try to gather them back up. His hips jerked against her in short, fast strokes as he let go and did what he’d been advising her to do: don’t think, just feel.


His mind flooded with endorphins as he relinquished control to his body. The short strokes gave way to a renewed desire to be buried in her and he drove hard, slamming against her viciously. The euphoric release burst from his loins and his throat at the same time. A leonine roar accompanied the surge of his cum into Buffy’s hot channel. The house was filled with the sounds of screams, growls, roars, and gasps as the two preternatural beings completely let go.


Suddenly, Spike was there with her in the dark depths of the flames. The bliss painted their bodies with fierce, unrelenting heat – but it didn’t burn. It danced across their skin like silken fire as they twirled together in the undulating mass of euphoria. Their hearts and souls touched and joined, then spun away, only to be hurtled back together a moment later as another wave of orgasmic bliss engulfed them.




Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, her chest heaved with exertion, and all she could manage were short gasps of the warm, thick air. Spike lay atop her, no longer supporting his weight on his arms at all. She longed to take deeper gulps of air, but at the same time didn’t want him to move. She clasped her hands around his back, hooked her feet together around his ass, and held him to her tightly.


She moaned as he began kissing and licking her neck. It felt heavenly.  She closed her eyes again, ready to get lost in the sensation, when he stopped and pulled back.


Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him – he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “W…wh…” Buffy cleared her throat and tried again. She couldn’t get anything to come out. She swallowed, coughed a little, and tried again.


“What?” came out as a raspy whisper.


He focused his eyes on hers. “The blood,” he said with disbelief. “Your blood. You … that bag … the feeding tube. You gave me your blood.”


Buffy gave him a small smile and nodded, afraid to try and talk again.


“Are you bloody daft?”


She wasn’t expecting that reaction at all and she bristled, her hackles rising. “No,” she rasped back at him, trying to sound indignant. “You needed it,” she managed in a hoarse whisper.


“Buffy! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Is still?”


“Yeah. Giles warned me,” Buffy admitted, still whispering.


“No bloody wonder I couldn’t stop … before. I … you smell and taste like food! I could’ve killed you!” Spike exclaimed, looking down at her with near-panic in his eyes.


“And yet, you didn’t,” she replied more strongly as her voice came back a bit more.


Spike stared at her with wide eyes, utterly speechless for perhaps the first time in a century.


“I told you before: I trust you,” Buffy assured him, lifting her lips up and touching them to his gently.


“How long? How much did ya give me?” he asked her, still looking shocked.


Buffy shrugged her head slightly. “I gave you what you needed to get well,” she hedged.


“Slayer,” Spike drawled impatiently. “How much?”


Buffy rolled her eyes. “Four pints … over ten days. Dawn wanted to give some too – but I wouldn’t let her.”


“Bloody hell…” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. How had he stopped himself before? He shouldn’t have been able to stop until the food was … drained.


“Spike,” Buffy croaked, making him focus back onto her eyes. “I trust you. You gave everything to save Dawn … to save me. It was the least I could do … the very least. I love you.”


Spike blinked back his emotions and dropped his mouth to hers. His lips nibbled hers gently, sucking and caressing them in a slow, sensuous kiss. He didn’t think, in an entire century on this earth, that anyone had ever done anything remotely that idiotic and utterly selfless for him before.


 “I love you, Buffy – even if you are a daft bint.”


Buffy smiled up at him. “Daft but sexy, right?”


Spike’s azure eyes sparkled with emotions ranging from love to awe to amazement to lust. He raked his tongue across his teeth before he breathed, “Bloody sexy.”


“And … still talking,” she croaked hoarsely. “And walking,” she claimed, demonstrating by tightening her legs painfully around his hips.


“Well, can’t ‘ave that, can we?” he purred, a sly grin curling the corners of his mouth.


Spike rolled onto his side off her, their bodies separating with wet, sucking sound caused by the sheen of perspiration that covered Buffy’s over-heated skin. Buffy watched as Spike trailed his fingers down between her breasts, across her belly, around her navel, and down to her mound. He dipped two fingers between her folds and pulled them back, glistening with their combined juices. He raised them to his nose and inhaled deeply, then sucked them into his mouth with a low moan.


Buffy’s eyes went wide as she watched him suck his fingers clean.


Spike opened his eyes as he pulled his fingers back out of his mouth, taking in her expression. “Ambrosia,” he claimed. “Nectar of the gods.”


He dipped his fingers back between her dripping folds and lifted them to her lips. Buffy hesitated a moment before taking a tentative lick with the tip of her tongue.


Ambrosia was kind of like a creamy fruit salad with coconut and marshmallows … wasn’t it? And any nectar of the gods should taste like chocolate as far as she was concerned. This tasted like neither. She took another small taste, closed her eyes to concentrate, and let it swirl around on her tongue. Salty, musky, a little coppery, and a hint of … citrus? It was strange. The coppery blood taste she could understand, but citrus?


She didn’t know what she had expected it to taste like. It seemed like it had been years since she tasted her own essence on Spike’s lips. It had turned her on and made her self-conscious at the same time, which wasn’t a good recipe for remembering what it was like.  In the days they’d spent together before executing her brilliant ‘run away’ plan, Spike had never cum in her mouth. He’d always warn her and she would pull away. She’d been too embarrassed, after making him go through that three-finger stoppage, to suggest that she might be ok with it.


“You been drinking lots of OJ, yeah … ‘cos of the blood you been givin’ up for me?” Spike asked her, as if reading her mind.


Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him. “Yeah…” she admitted.


Spike shrugged. “You taste like what you eat, pet… or, at least some of it.”


“Soooo, if I feed you a whole bunch of chocolate…” she began, a cunning grin spreading over her lips.


Spike smirked. “Just call me Willy Wonka,” he answered with a smirk.


“That’s my kinda factory,” she teased, biting her bottom lip wickedly.


Buffy put her hand on Spike’s and pulled his fingers into her mouth as he’d done. She swirled her tongue around them, between them, sucking down on them hard. Spike’s cock jumped at the sight of her lips devouring his digits, the feel of her hot tongue swirling around and around them. Buffy noticed the movement against her leg and her heartrate jumped. Her eyes met his and she smiled slyly around his fingers. She pulled his clean digits from her lips with a ‘pop’, her eyes locked on his.


“Your turn,” Buffy announced, as she pressed against his shoulder and knocked him onto his back. Buffy sat up and clambered down the mattress. She spread his legs and climbed between them, sitting back on her heels facing him, mimicking what he’d done earlier.


“Show me … show me what you do when you’re alone,” she murmured, raking her eyes over his body.


Spike pursed his lips into a smirk. “Ya got a stake?” he asked her, looking around at the dresser.


Buffy gasped. “What the hell do you want a stake for? Please don’t tell me you …” she shuddered, unable to finish the thought.


Spike laughed and raked his tongue over his teeth. “No … but if you ever get in the mood t’ shove somethin’ up my arse … I wouldn’t object,” he offered. “Just not a stake,” he added quickly. “And a little lube would be appreciated.”


“You’re … serious,” Buffy realized with wide eyes.


Spike shrugged. “Welcome to the dark side, pet.”


“B-but … ok, not a stake, but like what?” Buffy asked innocently.


Spike smirked. “A finger … a vibrator … a vibrating finger,” he suggested, wagging his brows. “Got a vibrator?”


Buffy shifted uncomfortably. “No … I tried those little … supposedly discreet ones. I kinda broke two and … I got scared I’d get electrocuted or something equally embarrassing.”


“Right,” Spike agreed, flexing the fingers that she’d nearly crushed. “Well, reckon we can find something more heavy-duty for ya later.


“Now … where’s Mr. Pointy?” he asked, getting back to the original request.


Buffy looked at him, still a bit suspicious, but slid off the bed and grabbed a stake from a drawer in her dresser. “Do you need any holy water to go with it? A cross maybe?”


“Just the stake,” he replied. “Maybe later on we can play with the other torture devices.”


“Ooo-kay,” she agreed hesitantly, coming back to the end of the bed. “Now what?”


“Get back where you were and hold the stake up like you’re about t’ dust me,” he instructed.


Buffy did so, still looking at him like he’d lost his ever-loving mind. Spike took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes fluttered closed and he began to speak with a deep timbre to his voice.


“You come to my crypt … royally brassed off over something or another that I’ve done. Come t’ stake me, you have,” he began as his hands traveled down his hard torso seductively. “Oh, Slayer … you’re so bloody hot when you’re mad,” he moaned.


“You start tellin’ me how you’re gonna do it this time. Gonna do me good,” Spike continued. His hips writhed up off the mattress as his hand wrapped around his cock.


“I dare you to … do it Slayer – get it over with!” he exclaimed, finally looking up at Buffy as she sat over him with the stake raised. “You come close, ready to strike and … I kiss you.” Spike moaned again as he stroked his cock slowly, his grip firm.


“Oh, Slayer … you taste so bloody good,” he moaned, increasing the pace as his hand slid up and down his shaft. “You look at me, shocked, for a long moment … you raise the stake to strike again.” Spike groaned as he jerked himself harder and harder, looking up at Buffy, who was still holding the stake up over her right shoulder.


This was sounding a bit familiar to Buffy. Had she unwittingly played out one of his fantasies downstairs when she'd held the stake on him? That was ... unsettling and also really ... hot.


“Then you drop the stake and begin ripping m’ clothes off,” Spike continued dreamily. “Then you …”


On cue, Buffy dropped the stake on the floor with a clatter and leaned forward. “Then I drop down onto my knees in front of you and …” She touched her tongue to the pearl of pre-cum on his slit and Spike’s hips jerked up uncontrollably.


“Yeah … that’ll do,” he agreed, releasing the grip he had on his shaft as her lips slid over the mushroom head. “Oh fuck, Slayer … God, that feels so … bloody … good,” he gasped out.


Buffy twirled her tongue round and round the tip of his cock, her lips closed tightly around the helmet. She grasped the shaft with her hand and began to stroke him with the same firm grip he’d been using. His cock tasted just like his fingers did – just like she did. He tasted of their mingled cum – of ambrosia. She moaned around his shaft, vibrating her lips and tongue against his sensitive skin.


“Bloody hell, woman! What you do to me!” Spike exclaimed, tangling his hands in her golden tresses as he looked down his body and watched her.  “You’re so beautiful, Buffy … so passionate … so good,” he murmured to her as she began moving her mouth up and down in opposition to her hand, taking his shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth with each stroke.


Buffy lifted her mouth off him and looked up to meet his eyes. “Tell me what feels good,” she whispered as she trailed her tongue down the underside of his cock, drawing hot, wet circles all along his length.


“That … for … one,” Spike assured her, gasping.


Buffy swirled her tongue around his balls and Spike’s hips jerked up against her. “Suck …them … gaahhh…” Spike began as Buffy sucked one, then the other of his balls into her mouth and swirled her tongue against them, warm and wet.


Her hand went back to his cock and began stroking again as she explored, nibbling, kissing, licking, and sucking on his balls and taint. Her voyage of discovery showed her what made his hips jerk wildly, what made him moan, and what made him curse in pleasure. Her confidence redoubled as he declared her a goddess and a she-devil while she worked her magic on him. And she felt like a goddess – every swirl of her tongue, every nibble of her teeth, every rake of her nails, every suck, every kiss seemed to pull him further and further under her control. It was intoxicating and exciting.


This time there was no hesitancy at all to her movements, no trepidation or worry that he might explode into her mouth. She wanted it – she wanted to give him everything he’d given her. She wanted to taste him, feel his desire surging into her, and swallow it down greedily.


She could feel her own desire building up higher and higher along with his. Could she actually cum by making him cum? Was that even possible? She wanted to find out.


Riley had rarely talked during sex, he never played games, and she was quite sure he wouldn’t allow anything up his ass, other than the cob that the army, or someone in his childhood, had apparently shoved up there.  Buffy found herself turned on by the idea of Spike actually inviting her to do that. A thrill went down her spine as she imagined pleasuring him with a vibrator, and she found that she had jumped past the embarrassment and long-standing, society-imposed taboos, and landed with both feet firmly on the dark side.


Emboldened by Spike’s nearly constant praise and moans of pleasure, and by her own building desire, Buffy used her hands and lips and tongue to tease and please Spike. She nipped sharply at the soft, creamy skin of his thighs one moment and lavished his cock with her tongue the next. Spike jerked and writhed under her, begging for more.


Without warning, Buffy dropped her hot, wet mouth down over his cock hard and fast. She sucked in, hollowing her cheeks, and squeezed her lips together hard.


Spike screamed out in painful pleasure. It sounded like something between the cry of a hyena and a wolf, and it pierced Buffy’s last remaining worry of hurting him, popping the thought like a pin would pop a balloon.


She began pumping her mouth up and down harder and faster as one hand fondled his balls and the other teased the short curls at the base of his rod. Her tongue swirled and lapped at his hardness with each stroke, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. Once in a while, her fingers would tangle in his shorthairs and tug on them painfully. Spike would yowl and jerk harder, slamming his hips up against her desperately.


Buffy felt his balls tense beneath her palm and, although she’d been ready to surprise him by not pulling away this time, a wickedly evil plan bloomed in her mind. She pressed three fingers against his taint, as she’d done that one time before, slowed her movements, and released the suction she had built around his rod.


“Bloody hell! … Let me cum, woman!” Spike demanded of her, trying to remove her fingers from his taint.


Buffy pushed back, wiping the wet smear of saliva and pre-cum from her mouth, and smirked at him. “Make me,” she challenged, grinning at him evilly. “Make me let you cum in my mouth.”


She wrenched her hand free of his and, satisfied that the moment had passed for Spike – at least for now – and jumped up off the bed. She picked up the stake from the floor and skittered away from Spike’s outstretched arms, towards the door.


“The Slayer comes in from a long, lonely night of patrolling,” she began in a storybook voice, opening and closing the bedroom door for effect.  “She doesn’t see the evil vampire lurking in the shadows of her room as she undresses and gets ready for bed,” Buffy continued, laying the stake down and pretending to get undressed.


Spike smirked and rolled off the bed. He backed up into one of the darker corners of her room as she stopped in front of the mirror and brushed her mussed hair a moment.


“She can’t see the evil fiend in the mirror as she brushes her hair, has no idea he’s there,” Buffy continued with an innocent sigh. “And then …” she began, letting her voice trail off as she climbed into bed.


“And then the sexy vampire watches, waiting for her to fall asleep. She’s out like a light when her head hits the pillow,” Spike filled in.


Buffy smiled and feigned sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, adding a loud snore for good measure.


“So exhausted, she is, that she doesn’t realize the sexy vamp’s got her hands and feet tied to the bed ‘fore it’s too late,” Spike continued the story as he looked in the dresser and closet for something to tie her up with.


Not finding any ropes or handcuffs, he settled for four pairs of underwear. He looped the lacy fabric around the uprights on the head and foot of the bed and then around her ankles and wrists, spread-eagling her on the bed.


Buffy pulled on them and found she could escape pretty easily, but flashed her eyes open as if panicked. “Oh! You evil vampire! What have you done? I’m helpless, trapped, and alone! What are your evil, perverted plans?”


Spike chuckled as he studied her, laid out before him like a buffet just waiting to be devoured. “Reckon we’ll start with a little torture, pet,” he replied saucily as he went back to the closet and pulled a pink feather boa off a hook on the door.


Buffy choked back a laugh. He was gonna torture her with a boa? How? By prancing around with it like young, and much better looking, Boy George? She bit her bottom lip … that actually would be something she’d pay money to see.


Spike stood by the bed and let the boa hang down from his hand. Beginning with her neck, he let the end of it trail slowly over her skin. Buffy giggled and squirmed, careful to not actually pull out of her bindings, ‘cos what fun would that be? From her neck he let it swing back and forth across her underarms for a few moments before trailing the feathers down her sides. Buffy sucked in her stomach, trying to pull her skin away from Spike’s torture device, as she squealed in delighted protest. Her squeaky cries only made Spike redouble his efforts, swirling the feathers lightly over her stomach as she pushed down into the mattress as hard as she could.


“Stop! Please stop!” she demanded through her laughter.


Spike pulled the torture device away momentarily. “Ready to suck me off, then?” he asked seductively.


“No! Never!” Buffy asserted, feigning shock and outrage.


“Then I’m not ready to stop,” he told her with a smirk as he trailed the feathers over her breasts.


Buffy writhed as the softness caressed her. Goose-flesh appeared on her body and her nipples hardened in an instant.  She moaned as Spike continued his torture, trailing the feathers around and around her breasts, then over her stomach, down one leg, and back up the other.


“Ready t’ give in to me?” he asked again as he continued the slow circuit over her body.


“No … never…” she moaned, unconvincingly.


“Ahhh … a tough one, you are,” Spike observed wryly. “Right then, reckon we’ll just have to turn up the heat.”


“Don’t try to move or get away or I’ll have to punish you … severely,” Spike warned before he turned abruptly and left the room. Buffy stared after him, wondering where the heck he was going.


When he came back he had a glass of ice water and a cup of hot cocoa. Buffy was actually happy to see that, thinking he’d brought the water for her – and he had … sort of.


Setting the steaming cocoa down, Spike dipped his fingers in the water and then held them over her body. Freezing water dripped onto her heated skin. She jumped and writhed as the cold water hit her and ran in freezing rivulets down her body.


“This is turning up the heat?!” she asked incredulously. “You need remedial English, you evil fiend!”


Spike just smirked as he picked one of the ice cubes out of the glass and began drawing a freezing line of chill-bumps down her throat and across her collarbone. Buffy wriggled and squirmed under his hand as he kept going, circling first one nipple, then the other with the rapidly melting ice.


“Now for the heat…” he murmured before taking a long drink of the hot cocoa and swirling it around in his mouth. He swallowed the warm liquid, and then dropped his lips to her breast and sucked down. His now warm tongue swirled over her erect nipple and he nibbled on it lightly with his teeth.


Buffy moaned and her back arched up off the bed as he alternated between freezing her and heating her up. Everywhere he touched the ice cube down, he came behind it with his warm lips and tongue. Her body would shrink away from the cold, then rise up against his warm mouth. He worked his way down her body from her throat, to her breasts, her navel, one hipbone and then the other, her inner thighs.


“Last chance, pet,” Spike warned as he spread her pussy lips open and held the ice cube up menacingly.


“Oh no … no, no, no … you wouldn’t!” she shrieked at him, her eyes wide, her trepidation unfeigned.


“Wouldn’t I?” he purred silkily.


Spike lowered the ice cube to her mound of curls. Buffy’s heart raced – it was one thing to have ice on her skin, even on her nipples, but there? She could pull free and stop him, and part of her seriously considered it, but hadn’t she started this little tableau? She could, of course, just stop him by giving in to him – which she knew she’d do sooner or later anyway, but being coerced into it seemed somehow more dangerous and added another level of thrill to it.


“You can stop me…” he reminded her as he slid the ice cube down from her curls toward her slit. “Suck me off.”


“No,” Buffy breathed, lifting her head up and watching him. He looked like he was having entirely too much fun. The gleam of absolute evil glee in his eyes was, well … it was intoxicating really.


Buffy screamed and thrashed on the bed when he touched her sensitive bundle of nerves with the ice.


“Had enough?” he wondered idly.




Spike grinned, took another drink of the cocoa and dropped his mouth to her pussy. Buffy’s body exploded like molten lava from a volcano when his hot tongue pressed down against her clit, then she rocketed back to Antarctica when the ice cube replaced his tongue. Back and forth he went – freezing and heating her most sensitive spot over and over again as she writhed and shrieked in pain and pleasure.


Then he just stopped.


Buffy’s eyes flashed open in surprise. “No! Don’t stop!” she demanded, suddenly missing the unbelievable highs and lows of the roller coaster he had taken her on.


Spike smirked and held up the glass of ice water. “Only one cube left…” he observed. “You want it?”


“Yes!” Buffy breathed.


“Gotta earn it,” he advised as he fished the last piece out of the glass. “You ready to earn your torture, then?”


Buffy nodded her head vigorously.


“Better make it good, Slayer or that cube’ll melt and there won’t be another…” Spike warned.


“I swear … let me up! I’ll … do it,” Buffy pleaded.


“Won’t try t’ run off?”


Buffy shook her head again.


Spike untied her hands and feet and Buffy jerked him down onto the bed. She had her lips around his cock, sucking down hard and fast, before Spike even stopped bouncing from the impact with the mattress.


A growling, deep, nearly sub-sonic chuckle escaped his lips before he started purring her praises. “Bloody fuck, Buffy! Feels so good … fuck! Suck me, baby! Suck that cock … oh God! So bloody hot, you are!”


Buffy groped his balls and thighs as she bobbed her head up and down on his rod wildly. Her tongue licked and swirled from side to side as she went, and she let Spike thrust up into her, swallowing the mushroom head until it hit the back of her throat.


She moaned and mewled around his length as she sucked him off savagely, willing him to cum quickly, before the ice melted. Spike’s hips bucked up into her, but he held back, relishing the feral way she was devouring him too much to end it quickly. Buffy redoubled her efforts, adding some pain back into the mix, tangling her fingers in his short curls and tugging.


She felt her own desire build as she sucked feverishly up and down his rod. Her pussy tingled and throbbed in jealousy of her mouth as she pounded down on him over and over – harder and harder with each stroke.


Spike growled and groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure as she ravaged him as he’d never been before. Suddenly, the hand she had been fondling his balls with slid lower and Buffy unexpectedly jammed one finger, wet with saliva but otherwise un-lubricated, into Spike’s ass.


“FUCK!” Spike exclaimed in shocked surprise, his eyes flashing open wide. His hands tangled in her long tresses, pulling her hair painfully, and his cum exploded from his balls, filling her mouth and throat with a torrent of thick jizz.


Buffy pulled back slightly, trying not to choke, as she swallowed down everything he had to give her. Volley after volley of his cum surged into her hot mouth and Buffy swallowed it down greedily, still sucking down on him hard, milking every drop from him. Spike finally came back to himself enough to release his hold of her hair as she cleaned his cock of his spendings with her lips and tongue.


Licking her lips and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Buffy sat back. She slowly removed her finger from his bum and Spike moaned in pleasure at the sensation.


Buffy eyed him gleefully and demanded that he, “Pay up.”


“Cheeky wench, you are,” Spike groaned. “Give us a minute, luv,” he requested – his body felt like it had just dissolved into the mattress. He suddenly knew what a melted candle felt like because his whole body felt exactly that way: a formless glob of completely spent energy.


“No! No minute! The ice is melting!” she exclaimed, near panic. “Oooooo, I should’ve known I couldn’t trust an evil fiend of a vampire to keep their end of the bargain,” she growled at him.


“There is more bloody ice in the fridge, luv,” he pointed out. He wondered momentarily if Willow’s paralyzing spell had come back, his limbs seemed suddenly leaden, unable to move.


Buffy harrumphed, her bottom lip sticking out in a deadly pout. “That’s cheating,” she insisted, eyeing the rapidly melting bit of ice in the glass.


“Yeah, well, evil, remember? Cheating’s a way of life,” Spike informed her, his words slurring slightly with exhaustion.


Buffy scowled at him and got up. “When I get back with more ice and cocoa, you better be ready or you’re gonna get a surprise of your own … and you won’t like it,” she threatened. “I thought you had all that vampire stamina and supernatural … testosterone and all that.”


I think you just drained all my bloody testosterone, pet,” he reminded her groggily. “Can’t a bloke have a minute to just … bask in the golden glow of your love?”


“Bask in the golden glow …” Buffy repeated as she started to laugh. “What is this, a Danielle Steele novel?" she asked sarcastically. "Yeah, ok … bask all you want. As long as you’re done by the time I get back,” she allowed as she headed out of the room and padded downstairs.


“Bloody romantic that is, Slayer,” Spike called after her, sounding offended.


When Buffy returned, Spike wasn’t in the bed. She stopped just inside the door and a feeling of déjà vu came over her. Surely he hadn’t scampered off and gone into hiding again, had he?


Before she could turn around, Spike’s arms wrapped around her from behind. A relieved smile quirked Buffy’s lips and she leaned back into him.


Spike dropped his mouth to her shoulder, and Buffy tilted her head to the side, letting her hair fall away from her neck. His lips were tender against her skin, kissing and licking a line of fire up past the curve of her neck to behind her ear. She moaned and leaned back against him harder, wriggling her ass against his crotch.


“Spike …” she began tentatively. “If you … I mean … as long as you can … stop … then I wouldn’t … ummmm … object,” she stammered as his mouth found the wound on her neck where he’d bitten her earlier.


“God, I love you, Buffy,” he murmured against her hot skin.


Buffy turned around slowly, still holding the hot cocoa and cold glass of ice in her hands. Her eyes met his and held his gaze. “I love you too, Spike. I trust you … and … I …”


Spike nodded. “Give me a bit o’ time – just t’ get used to the … to everything. I’d never want t’ hurt you and … I never want to see you … truly afraid o' me.”


Buffy bit her lip and nodded. The two puncture wounds on her neck tingled where his lips had passed over them, as if begging him to open them again – invade her with his fangs. “I get it … but I wanted you to know, if you ever … wanted to do that again, I would …” Buffy swallowed hard before finishing, “… welcome it.”


Spike smiled, stopping just short of a smirk, and ran a finger over the wound. “You have no idea what you do to me, woman. No bloody idea how much I love you. Sometimes I think it’s more than my heart can bear. Then, just when I think I couldn’t love you more, you find a way to …” his voice trailed off, his eyes still locked onto hers.


Buffy gave him a soft smile and joy glinted in her eyes. Her heart soared; she thought she could actually feel her feet leave the ground for a moment.


She’d known she was doing the right thing when she’d had Riley get the army to remove Spike’s chip – but her friends weren’t so sure. She had to tell Xander to get out of her house and not come back until he accepted her decision and opened his eyes to the fact that Spike had changed. Giles had lectured her and warned against it, but hadn’t tried to stop her, not that he really could have. Her Watcher had ultimately left it up to her, despite continued daily warnings. Willow had looked worried, but had given Buffy her support. All her friends' doubts had nagged at the back of Buffy’s mind, undermining her instinct and her confidence. But Spike’s behavior earlier, and his insistence now that they wait before trying that again, silenced that little nagging doubt once and for all.


Spike cleared his throat and took the glass and mug from Buffy’s hands, pulling her from her musings. “Well, reckon that’s enough basking, then,” he began, obviously changing the subject, as he sat the two containers down on the dresser. “Believe I owe you a spot of …” he continued, but was cut off by Buffy’s lips touching his.


Spike pulled her to him, deepening the kiss in a flurry of emotion and passion. Their bodies dissolved against each other, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, made to fit each other perfectly. Their lips and tongues melted into a dance of giving and taking, demanding and yielding, offering and accepting.


Gasping for breath, Buffy pulled back from the kiss, leaning her forehead against his. “I love you, Spike. I love you so much it … frightens me. It’s more than … anything I’ve ever... I’m … I know what you mean now, about being love’s bitch.” Buffy stopped and pulled back to look into his eyes. “Sometimes I think it’s more than I can bear too. Maybe we could … bear it together?”


Spike gave her a soft smile. “Sounds brilliant, pet. Reckon two … demon-types like us should be able to shoulder a bit of love, yeah?”


“I was thinking we were more like two … hero-types,” she admitted.


Spike’s brows went up. “Yeah?”


“Yeah … I told you before: you’re a champion, Spike, a hero, Dawn’s hero … my hero.”


Spike bit his bottom lip – awestruck. Yes, she’d said that earlier, but he hadn’t let those words penetrate; hadn’t allowed himself to really believe that part. Champion. Hero. He’d been called a lot of things in his life, but never that. His chest heaved with unneeded breath as his heart – and soul – soared.


“And you, my dear, are the sexiest wildcat of a demon I’ve ever had the pleasure t’ meet,” he replied after a moment, giving her a sexy smirk.


“Yeah?” she asked, smiling slyly.


Spike nodded, then swept her up into his arms, with one arm under her knees and one around her back. Buffy shrieked in surprise, but wrapped her arms around his neck.


“And what do hero-types do to sexy demons?” she wondered as he stepped towards the bed with her.


“They torture them mercilessly,” Spike purred, dropping her onto the bed.


Buffy grinned devilishly as she looked up at him. “Ooooo … sounds wicked.”




“’Ello, Red? It’s Spike,” Spike said tentatively into the phone the next morning.


“Spike! Is … something wrong? Is Buffy ok?” Willow replied worriedly.


“No worries, she’s just uhhhh … well, she can’t come t’ the phone just now, and she wanted me t’ call and ask if we could pick the Niblett up tonight after dark,” Spike told her, feeling strangely … domestic.


“Ummm … yeah, ok,” Willow stammered. “But … can I talk to Buffy?”


“She’s … a bit under the weather,” Spike tried to explain. “Wobbly on her feet and … seems to have a spot of laryngitis.”


There was silence on the line. A very long silence.


“Red?” Spike spoke after a few moments, thinking the call had disconnected.


“Yeah, I’m here,” Willow replied. “Spike … I … ummm … I really need to talk to Buffy. It’s not … personal, but …”


Spike sighed. “Right. I got no chip so the Slayer might be beaten and bloodied, lyin’ dead, half-buried in a ditch somewhere – that it?”


Another silent moment passed. “Well … a ditch hadn’t really entered my mind,” she admitted. "Thanks for that visual."


Spike huffed out a breath as he headed upstairs with the wireless phone. “Well, I’m telling ya, she can’t bloody talk. What can I do t’ convince you she’s fine?”


Willow thought for a moment, then asked. “Can she write? Ask her what the end-of-the-world vocabulary word was…”


Spike put his hand over the receiver as he entered Buffy’s room. “Sorry, pet – she won’t take my word for it. Wants ya to tell me the end-of-the-world vocabulary word … whatever the bloody hell that means.”


Buffy pulled herself to sitting in the bed and fumbled for a pen and paper on the nightstand. She wrote ‘PELL-MELL’ in large scrawling letters on the paper and held it up to him.


Spike furrowed his brow, but read what Buffy wrote, speaking into the receiver. “Pall Mall … the street or the smokes?” he wondered.


Buffy waved her hand and shook her head vigorously, pointing at the paper again. “Scratch that,” Spike corrected. “Pell-mell.”


He heard a sigh of relief from Willow. “Ok … oh … I’m so sorry she’s sick! Tell her to stay in bed and gets lots of fluids. Dawn’s fine – if she needs to stay another night, it’s ok.”


Spike smirked. “Right, I’ll tell ‘er – stay in bed and get lots o’ fluids. No worries – I’ll take care o’ that.”


Spike was still smirking when he said goodbye to Willow, assuring her that Buffy would probably recover by later that night, and hit the ‘end’ button on the phone.


“Well, you ‘eard the doctor …” he grinned at Buffy as he climbed back in the bed next to her.


“You’re so bad,” Buffy mouthed – her voice nothing more than a mousey-squeak.


“And you love it,” he accused, sitting back against the headboard and pulling her to him. Buffy ducked under his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder, unable to stop the silly school-girl grin from emerging.


“Yes, I do,” she agreed – her words coming out as barely more than warm air rather than actual sounds from her over-taxed vocal chords.


They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Spike held up his left hand and the skull ring that was just above the middle digit on his index finger. “I dreamt that you were marryin’ White Bread with my soddin’ ring,” he admitted to her. “Why were you wearin’ it again? I haven’t seen it in ages. Didn’t know you even still had it.”


Buffy reached out and touched it and smiled. “Felt … connected; me to you,” she explained as simply as she could in a low voice that broke and squeaked as she spoke.


Spike blinked back his emotions and pulled the ring off his finger. “I promise to stand by you forever, Buffy. We’ll always be connected … same cloth and whatnot.” He slid the ring back on the finger she’d had it on earlier – her left ring finger; the same finger he’d put it on once before, when they had been under Willow’s spell.


Buffy nodded and closed her fist around it. It was foolish, she knew, but something about it just made her feel closer to him somehow, even when she wasn’t with him.


Buffy pulled a ring off her right middle finger. It was a birthstone ring that Dawn had given her a couple of years ago … or … at least that was what she remembered. She was sure Dawn wouldn’t mind, since Dawn had given Buffy the skull ring back as they both sat by Spike’s bedside after the fight with Glory.


She held the ring out to Spike. “My promise,” she croaked out.


Spike’s eyes met hers as he took the delicate ring from her hand. He slid it onto his pinky – the only finger it would slide past his knuckle on. It wasn’t anything too fancy or expensive, but it meant the world to him.


Buffy laughed at the sight of it on his finger. The small, delicate ring looked so … not-Spike-like, but it seemed to make the connection between them complete. They made the perfect pair, her with the bulky skull ring and he with the delicate garnet … yin and yang, darkness and light, sun and shadow, perfect complements and polar opposites: the Slayer and the vampire.


The sound of Buffy’s squeaky laughter flooded Spike’s heart with joy and warmed him like sunshine on a cool, spring day. Could she be right? Could there be light inside him, just as there was darkness inside her? Could they manage to live in two worlds at once – each showing the other the wonders of the other side? Could an angel and a devil fill the empty void that dwelled within the other? Could they be each other’s hero? If the dark side had warm, gooey cookies, did the side of light have nice, cold milk to go with them?


A throaty, contagious laugh rolled from Spike’s lips and reverberated through the room as their eyes met. Her green pools of emerald sparkled with joy and love – love for him. He bit his bottom lip as he realized, yes – they could live in two worlds at once. They could make it – together.


The End.


End Notes:


There is actually one more chapter: the epilogue.


Turn Me On, David Guetta ft. Nicki Minaj




Doctor, doctor, need you bad, hold me babe
Doctor, doctor, where ya at? Give me something
I need your love, I need your love, I need your loving
You got that kind of medicine that keeps me coming
My body needs a hero, come and save me
Something tells me you know how to save me
I've been feeling feral, oh I need you
Come and rescue me

Make me come alive, come on and turn me on
Touch me, save my life, come on and turn me on
I'm too young to die, come on and turn me on
Turn me on, turn me on, turn me on, turn me on (2X

Oh you make it make it right
my temperature is super high If I scream if I cry,
It's only cause I feel alive
My body needs a hero, come and save me

Make me come alive, come on and turn me on
Touch me, save my life, come on and turn me on
I'm too young to die, come on and turn me on
Turn me on, turn me on, turn me on, turn me on (2X)
Something tells me you know how to save me

You’ve got my life in the palm of your hand (palm of your hand)
Come and save me now I know you can (I know you can)
D-d-d-d-Don't let me die young
I just want you to father my young
I just want you to be my doctor
We we can get it crackin', chiropractor
I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I I-I-I-I-I know you can save me and make me feel alive

I've been feeling real low oh I need you to come and rescue me

Make me come alive, come on and turn me on
Touch me, save my life, come on and turn me on
I'm too young to die, come on and turn me on
Turn me on, turn me on, turn me on, turn me on


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