|Story Title:||Miracle Worker|
A short, four chapter spuffy Halloween ficlett with some drama, lots of smutty goodness, and a bit of romance, but no real angst.
What if Halloween in Season 6 came after Spike and Buffy had been shagging for a while? Takes place sometime after ‘Dead Things’ but before ‘As You Were’. Halloween, and Spike’s offer of a bit of the ‘rough and tumble’, has been rescheduled to a time when Buffy would accept that invitation.
While Dawn went on a covert 'double date' with Janice and the two vampires, Justin and Zack, Buffy and Spike had some rough and tumble plans of their own. Where might this night lead when things get complicated and Buffy’s secret slips out?
The first chapter of this story will sound familiar to regular Unexpected ‘Verse readers, but the chapters that follow are all new.
Miracle Worker, by Superheavy http://youtu.be/by6xbI_ezE0
Li’l Red Riding Hood, Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs http://youtu.be/8BageeFRG8U
ScreenCaps courtesy of ScreenCap Paradise: http://www.screencap-paradise.com/?cat=3
Thanks to Anona for her grammatical and punctuation corrections and commentary that always makes me smile, and to Paganbaby for her invaluable input and ideas!
|Rating / Warnings:||
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.
(Rescheduled) Halloween 2001, Season 6:
The petite young blonde walked along the foggy path that was a shortcut through the woods leading back to town. She pulled her red hood and cloak tighter around her body against the soft, cold rain that had started falling, and tried to keep her footing in the dark as she hurried back to her grandmother’s house. Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder boomed, encouraging her to quicken her pace as she made her way along the slippery, muddy trail.
When she was a little girl, her mom had always told her ‘there was nothing there in the dark that wasn’t there in the light’. Despite that, she couldn’t help but feel like there was someone, or something there that she couldn’t see … following her … stalking her. She looked back often, scanning the dark and foggy expanse of forest nervously, and increased her pace despite the poor footing. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t see anything at all in the eerie darkness. The moon was blotted out by the thick storm clouds, and she hadn’t intended on being out so late, so she hadn’t brought a flashlight. When the lightning flashed, giving some modicum of illumination, every tree, bush, and rock along the trail looked like a vicious, hungry monster just waiting for an opportunity to pounce on her.
She cried out when she tripped over a stone that protruded from the edge of the well-worn path, catching herself with her hands to keep from tumbling all the way down onto the wet ground. She could’ve sworn she heard something rustle in the dead leaves just to the side of the trail when she stumbled, and she turned around and tried to see what it was. Perhaps one of her friends was pulling a Halloween prank on her. Yes, that must be it. There’s nothing to worry about; there’s nothing there in the dark that’s not there in the light.
“Hello?” she called tentatively, straining her eyes, searching the trees and the trail behind her but seeing nothing except utter blackness.
“‘Ello, cutie…” a deep, rumbling voice came from the direction she’d been going. She squealed in surprised fright and swung back around quickly to see who had spoken.
“W-who … who are you?” she stammered as her adrenaline level soared, her heart pounded and raced in her chest, and her breathing became even more shallow and rapid. It wasn’t one of her friends …
“You can call me Big Bad. Out for a evenin’ stroll, are ya?” the man asked in a low drawl. His demeanor was calm – dead calm – as he took a slow, predatory step towards her. His voice was … disconcerting. There was something unsettling about it – a raw, primal roughness to it, a growly timbre that made him sound something other than human. It occurred to her that he sounded almost like an animal who'd learned to speak; the thought was disturbing and did nothing to calm her nerves.
The darkness of the night kept his face shrouded, but something seemed … wrong. The girl squinted her eyes, trying to make out his features. She silently prayed for a shaft of moonlight or a lightning bolt to break through the clouds, through the dense canopy of the ageless trees above them, and cut a swath through the foggy blackness. Her prayers went unanswered – or perhaps, as the song goes, the answer was ‘no’. In the inky blackness, she could only get an impression of him and that impression was frightening.
“No … I … I’m just heading home … to my grandmother’s. I’m late…” the petite young woman stammered, backing up as the man stepped forward.
“Are ya now? And just where would Li’l Red Riding Hood’s grans live? Perhaps I could ... escort you. Lots of nasties out on All Hallows’ Eve,” the man offered. It was clear he was trying to sound amiable … friendly; Li’l Red felt anything but befriended. Her heart continued to race in her chest, she felt like she could barely breathe, and a bead of nervous perspiration joined the misting rain and ran down her temple in a chilling trickle of fear.
The girl gulped back the knot of panic in her throat. “No … uhhh, thank you, Mr. Bad. S-she just lives a little ways … across from Restfield Cemetery. I really need to go… s-she’ll be worried,” Li’l Red explained as she tried to find a way to get around the man, if that's what he was, who was now blocking the narrow trail.
“Turns out, I’m headin’ that way m’self… we could go together,” Big Bad suggested brightly, still stalking slowly forward as Li’l Red backed up. “The woods are a right scary place to be all alone in the dark…never know what might jump out at sweet little morsel like you.”
When Red got to the rock that she’d tripped over, she carefully stepped over it and continued to back up, but Big Bad didn’t notice the stone in the dark. His eyes were glued on the lovely young thing in front of him who smelled of honey and vanilla and fright – three of his favorite scents in the world. After she passed the rock, Red backed up faster, making Big Bad move forward faster. In his haste, the toe of his boot caught on the rock, and he lost his balance and tumbled forward. Red took the opportunity to sprint past him, running as fast as her legs would carry her along the slippery, dark trail towards her grandmother’s house.
She could hear the man laughing as she ran. He had a deep, rumbling laugh that rivaled the thunder in timbre and volume, and seemed to shake the very ground under her feet. That laugh was nearly as frightening as the look he’d had in his unnaturally glowing eyes, which she’d glimpsed as she bolted past him. In those eyes she saw a look of primal hunger, and it spurred her to run faster still.
Red ran all the way through the woods towards the cemetery, stumbling and sliding on the narrow, muddy trail. Even when she fell she kept moving forward, catching herself on her hands and clambering on fingertips and toes until she could right herself and begin running again. She never stopped or slowed or even glanced back. She kept running even as briars and branches reached out, clutching and tugging at her cloak and dress, and scratching her arms and face. It felt as if the trees themselves were possessed by pure evil, out to get her, to trap her, and hold her for the … yellow-eyed man. She thought she could feel the man’s breath on her neck … right behind her, about to catch her at any moment. Her legs churned wildly on the slippery trail, going faster than she thought possible, even as the rain began falling harder. The feeling of being chased stayed with her as she crossed the cemetery, dodging headstones and granite angels, threw open the iron gate on the fence that surrounded her grandmother’s home, and ran up the steps of the dilapidated house.
Surely the man couldn’t have followed her all that way. Certainly she would’ve heard his heavy boots on the stairs if he really was right behind her; it was just her imagination getting the better of her. Red stopped on the front porch and bravely spun around to look behind her as she tried to catch her breath. He wasn’t there. No one was there but her. The rain had started falling even harder now and she strained to see the cemetery across the street through the downpour. Lightning lit up the sky, flashing several times as she searched for the platinum hair and dark outline of the man’s long duster, but she didn’t see anyone or anything. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down … everything was alright now, she was safe at home.
Just as she turned to open the door of the house, there was a bright flash of light and a loud explosion. A lightning bolt had hit the transformer on the power line right in front of the house and the whole block went completely dark. L’il Red screeched in fright, jumping nearly out of her skin as she quickly swung the old door open and scrambled inside. She still hadn’t gotten used to the eerie squeak all the doors in her grandmother’s house made. She was halfway convinced the house was haunted, but she’d rather face the ghosts inside than the scary things outside in the murky night, regardless of what her mother had told her about the dark. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to life in this strange town. She was much more comfortable in L.A., but her grandmother was old and infirm and Red was her only living relative … it was up to her to try and make her final months as comfortable as possible.
She quickly closed the front door and locked it, then leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes, gulping the musty air mixed with fear as she tried to calm down.
“Grandmother! I’m home!” Li’l Red called at last. Her heartbeat was finally returning to some semblance of normalcy, and she took a deep breath to try and calm herself further.
“Do come up, dear!” she heard her grandmother call from upstairs in a squeaky, rather raspy voice.
Red went into the kitchen and lit a candle, then took off her wet cloak and hung it on a hook inside the bathroom door so it could drip dry. She dried her short, blonde hair and her face with a towel and moaned when she realized she’d gotten mud on her new outfit. She tried to wash it off, but only succeeded in smearing it further, so she gave up and headed up the rickety stairs to her grandmother’s room to say goodnight.
At the top of the stairs, she knocked on her grandmother’s door.
“Come in, dear,” her grandmother called, her voice hoarse and grainy. She'd been quite ill and it had taken its toll on the elderly woman. Red rarely went out; this night was one of the few that she'd given herself 'off' since coming to Sunnydale.
Red opened the door and started towards her grandmother, who was laying in the bed, covered from chin to toe with a quilt, a sleeping bonnet on her head. “I’m sorry I’m so late, Grandmother,” Li’l Red apologized as she stepped nearer, setting the candle on the bedside table. “My … you don’t look well at all … all the color’s gone from your cheeks,” the girl observed worriedly. “Are you feeling alright?”
L’il Red’s grandmother began coughing violently, and the girl plucked some tissues from the box and handed them to her. “You look quite odd, Grandmother … your eyes … they’re so … big and … yellow,” L’il Red observed with a furrowed brow.
“Better to see you with, my dear,” Grandmother explained as the coughing subsided.
“And your nose … it’s larger and … oddly ridged,” Li’l Red continued, furrowing her brow and tilting her head in confusion.
“Better to smell you with, my dear,” Grandmother offered, her voice raspy and low.
“But, Grandmother! Your teeth! What large teeth you have!” Li’l Red exclaimed in fright as she started to back up towards the door.
“Better to eat you with, my dear,” Grandmother informed her as she threw off her covers and sprang at Red, catching her from behind as the young woman started to run out of the bedroom, and tossing her effortlessly back onto the bed.
Li’l Red knew immediately who it was even before she pulled the sleeping bonnet from his head, the stranger from the woods: Big Bad.
“Sorry, Red … didn’t care for Granny, bit gristly and sour. Got stuck in m’ teeth, she did,” Big Bad informed her as he pinned her hands above her head with an iron grip and straddled her hips with his. “You’re a mite more tender and sweet, I’d wager …”
“I’ll scream!” Red threatened, struggling under him as her heart again thudded against her chest, threatening to explode with terror.
“Bonus…” Big Bad smirked as he dropped his mouth to hers and captured her lips in a violent kiss.
The Big Bad Wolf’s tongue delved between Li’l Red Riding Hood’s soft lips, his sharp fangs only a hair’s breadth away from her tender flesh. A deep, rumbling growl escaped Spi… uhhhh … Mr. Bad’s throat as his tongue fought for control of the kiss with his (willing) captive.
When he saw Buffy in that Red Riding Hood costume at the Magic Box’s Halloween sale earlier and suggested a bit of the ‘rough and tumble’ – which Buffy eagerly accepted – there was no doubt in his mind how this night would end. Since Halloween was a night off for the demons of Sunnydale, there was no need for Spike and Buffy to actually patrol … but that was always a good excuse for Buffy to use to get away from the house. After Dawn left to go to her friend Janice’s, Buffy begged off of Xander and Anya’s impromptu engagement party to ‘go patrol’ with Spike. While Buffy was with her friends, Spike had gotten everything all set up for the two of them in the long abandoned ‘Bloody Mary’ house across the street from the cemetery, and the rest was pure imagination…
Spike pulled back from the kiss and gazed down at her in the soft glow of the candle, letting his eyes wander longingly over her face before locking her eyes with his. He knew it was a dangerous move – Buffy didn’t want that kind of intimate contact – but he couldn’t help himself. As soon as their eyes met, Buffy started writhing and pulling against the grip Spike had on her wrists again, breaking the tenuous connection of their eyes. Spike sighed to himself and returned to his role of predator – not lover.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the room, making Spike’s vampire visage appear even more demonic as he hovered over her. His fangs seemed to glimmer, deadly and razor-sharp, and his eyes actually seemed to glow with an inner fire … a hunger. Buffy felt her heart lurch and begin to race faster as she struggled against him fruitlessly. A soft mist of rain blew in through the broken windowpane to the side of the bed and the cool, damp breeze chilled Buffy’s hot skin, making her shiver involuntarily.
“You afraid a’ me?” Big Bad asked in a whisper, dropping his mouth down next to her ear.
“You’re a Big, Bad Wolf … you’re dangerous … wicked …” L’il Red replied with a shudder.
“And that frightens you…” the wolf surmised in a deep, rumbling voice as he began kissing her neck. L’il Red could feel his dagger-like teeth graze her skin as his lips seemed to make her blood boil and thrum in her veins.
“Frightens … and …” Li’l Red stammered, tilting her head to the side to allow him to continue his exploration.
“And?” Big Bad questioned, pulling back to look at her.
“And …nothing! You’re a bad, evil animal … a fiend set on deflowering a poor, defenseless girl!” Li’l Red asserted as she began struggling against him again, wriggling her hips and legs, trying to dislodge him, but that seemed to only excite him more.
“Am I, now?” the wolf questioned, cocking his scarred brow at her, easily thwarting her efforts to move him by riding her bucking hips like a bronco-busting cowboy on a powerful, untamed, majestic beast. “I think the danger excites you … and my big, bad nose never lies…”
“No … you’re wrong!” Li’l Red contended as Big Bad dropped his mouth back to her hot skin and trailed his cool tongue down her neck, past her collarbone, pausing only momentarily to deftly slice a long gash down the front of her dress with his razor-sharp fangs.
Li’l Red’s top fell open. The wolf gazed reverently at her full breasts before dropping his mouth down and circling her rosy nipples with the tip of his tongue. Despite her earlier verbal objections and physical struggles, the girl wasn’t pulling against his grip any longer, and the subtle rise of her hips pressing against his wasn’t an effort to buck him off. When he touched his mouth to one hot, hard nub, her back arched, and a low moan escaped her lips.
As the storm outside continued to build, with the rain pelting the tin roof of the old house and lightning flashing through the windows, Big Bad released his hold of her wrists and slid slowly down her body, trailing his hands lightly across her heated flesh.
The wolf settled between her sun-kissed legs, lifting them and draping them over his shoulders as he pushed her short skirt away, revealing the source of the aroma his big, bad nose had detected: nirvana.
“Good girls wear knickers,” Big Bad observed as he dipped his tongue between her smooth, wet folds and touched her clit, making her hips jerk up against him.
“Never claimed to be a good girl…” Li’l Red pointed out breathily, tilting her hips up towards him. “Just poor and defenseless.”
Spike spread her damp, pink butterfly wings with his cool fingers and teased the sensitive skin surrounding her entrance with his tongue, circling her vagina lightly before dipping his ravenous tongue into her heaven. He was rewarded with a flood of her blissfully divine pheromones which flowed over his lips, covering him with her desire and sending his senses reeling. The crazed, untamed wolf dove into her sweet, warm paradise, intent on devouring her. Buffy cried out when his tongue plunged deep into her throbbing pussy. She could feel the demon’s carnal desire invade her, she knew his sharp fangs were right there, pressing dangerously against her tender flesh … and she let the fear that she’d feigned earlier become real. She was fairly certain Spike would not intentionally hurt her – well, not like this – but one slip, one wrong move, was all it would take…
The adrenaline rush from allowing her most sensitive spot to be this vulnerable to those deadly fangs combined with the mesmerizing, feral pleasure Spike was lavishing on her and sent her own inner-animal spiraling out of control. Buffy’s hips jerked against the demon’s insatiable mouth, driving his tongue deeper into her burning desire and drawing blood as his fangs pricked her soft outer folds with each hard thrust. The wolf growled brutally when the blood combined with her juices and coated his tongue. It was all Spike could do to keep from actually biting her as she slammed against his mouth and took what she desired ... what she needed. When his growl vibrated through her, the flood of ecstasy that had been building exploded like a bolt of lightning and filled her body with white-hot bliss.
“God! Yesssssssss!” Buffy screamed, pulling Spike’s head down against her one last time as her back arched and her pussy quivered and trembled around his tongue, adding another irresistible flavor to the mix … her rapturous cum.
The demon growled again, angry at being controlled by her, despite the fact that it would choose to be no other place at that moment. For a second, Spike feared that he may actually lose control of the savage demon within. Slayer blood and cum combined into a dizzying cocktail that spun his head and burned his mouth like 190-proof pure grain alcohol, rolling down his throat like molten lava. Her unique ambrosia seemed to actually warm him from the inside out, and fanned the flames of his own voracious desires. Did she have any bloody idea what she was doing to him?
As Buffy floated back down from the clouds, Spike pulled free of her grip and quickly moved over her, covering her body with his as he dipped down and seized her lips in a frantic kiss. Buffy wrapped her arms around him and welcomed the demon into her hot, wet mouth just as she’d welcomed him into her pussy. Their tongues warred between his fangs, dancing, wrestling, pressing, and twirling around each other as they both fought for dominance over the other. Spike finally regained some semblance of control and pulled back from the kiss, leaving Buffy breathless and lightheaded, and desperately wanting more.
“Not as defenseless as you let on,” the Big, Bad Wolf accused with a smirk.
Li’l Red smiled wickedly and flipped them over, catching Big Bad by surprise. Buffy straddled his hips with hers and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head and off.
“I’m defenseless,” she murmured to him, running her hands over his deeply ridged brow, down his strong jaw, and across his prominent Adam’s apple. Her hands continued their exploration, moving to his hard pecs and across chiseled abs, only stopping when she reached his belt. Her eyes followed the path of her hands over the hard hills and valleys of his beautifully sculpted body. She didn’t look into his eyes – not when they were like this, it was too intimate – but she couldn’t draw her gaze away from his body. That body made her feel again and she could admit to worshiping it, even being grateful for it. It took the emptiness and pain away for a little while. She knew if she looked into his eyes too deeply, she’d feel something from that too. Something she didn’t want to feel or even think about. So she just looked at his body. That was safer.
“I'm helpless against you, you fiend,” she announced dramatically … overacting slightly. “I can't resist your feral beauty or the sinister attraction of your hard, insatiable body,” she confessed as she started to unbuckle his belt.
“This better?” Spike asked, finally forcing the demon down completely.
Buffy looked back up to his face. The yellow eyes of the wild beast were replaced with the smoldering blue of the sensual man. Her breath caught in her throat and she quickly looked away from his enigmatic, cocky gaze. Buffy immediately felt a pang of disappointment and disgust with herself. How demented was she to feel more comfortable with the demon than the man? Spike’s expressive blue eyes seemed to see directly into her and read her like a book, but she couldn’t afford to let him in, especially not tonight. Tonight she was too raw, her emotions too close to the surface, her need for honest affection too great.
Xander and Anya were getting married. They were in love. They were happy. She was at once happy for them, but also … jealous and, well, feeling pitifully sorry for herself. The best she could do was an illicit affair with her mortal enemy – again. Had she learned nothing from her relationship with Angel? What was it about the evil-undead that drew her like a moth to a flame? And yet, out of all her well-meaning friends, only Spike could find a way to truly spark her reanimated corpse back to life. Only he could make her feel again. Only he seemed to truly understand what she needed.
Buffy leaned down and captured his lips in a desperate kiss. He couldn’t see into her soul if she was snogging him silly – that was much safer ground. Spike wrapped his arms around her, pulling her bare chest down against his as he deepened the kiss and the power struggle, the battle for supremacy, began anew. His demon rose back to the surface, not wanting to miss the passionate war that was being waged. Buffy gasped against his mouth as his fangs extended, but never pulled back or faltered. After ‘battling’ for untold minutes, Buffy pushed up with both hands on his hard chest, breaking his embrace and the kiss as she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving with exertion and desire and still a little fear-induced adrenaline.
Spike watched, mesmerized by the lustful passion in her eyes and by her damp, golden skin, which glistened in the soft glow of the candle, as she slid back down his torso to finish what she’d started earlier.
“You wouldn’t deflower a poor, defenseless wolf, now would ya?” Big Bad questioned as he folded his arms behind his head and watched her unfasten his belt and slide his zipper down, freeing his rigid cock from its denim prison.
L’il Red smiled wickedly as she backed further down his legs, slid off the bed, and began tugging his pants off. Spike raised his hips up to let his jeans slide down as she pulled, watching her as she ravaged his body with her eyes. “I thought wolves were … fuzzier,” Li’l Red observed with a smirk, making Spike chuckle lightly.
“If I was, you’d take me to the bloody groomer and Nair me, I’ve no doubt…” the Big Bad Wolf countered, making Buffy laugh at the image of Spike at the dog groomer’s getting washed, dipped, and de-haired.
“Good wolves wear knickers,” Li’l Red murmured as she dropped his jeans on the floor.
“But big, bad wolves are a bloody sight more fun,” Spike defended as he watched Buffy shed her torn and tattered dress and drop it onto the floor with his jeans.
“Mmmmmm … are they? Let’s find out…” she challenged as she crawled slowly back up his body on hands and knees, trailing her tongue all the way from his ankle, across the swell of his calf, tickling the side of his knee, and teasing the soft skin of his inner-thigh. About halfway up his thigh, she switched to rough nibbles and bites on the tender flesh between his knee and groin. Spike’s cock jumped and throbbed desperately with each touch of her ravenous mouth on his cool skin.
Big Bad struggled to let her have her way with him, but she was close to driving him out of his mind. When Li’l Red bit down hard enough to draw blood on his upper inner-thigh, a deep, rumbling growl rippled through his body and tangibly vibrated the air in the room. Li’l Red smirked. Her ministrations were having the desired effect on the Big, Bad Wolf … turning him into an even bigger, even badder, even more crazed and wild beast. She pressed a knee against the wolf’s leg and he obediently bent his knees and spread them apart for her to settle between them.
Red purred a low moan against the base of the Big, Bad Wolf’s engorged manhood before dropping her mouth lower and tickling the delicate and sensitive skin of his scrotum with the tip of her hot, wet tongue.
“Bloody hell…” Big Bad groaned as his hips rose up to meet her, his cock searching for those sweet lips, silently begging for them to engulf him in their fiery depths, but they were otherwise engaged. The ‘poor, defenseless girl’ nibbled lightly on his jewels before sucking first one, then the other into her delectable mouth and swirling her tongue round and round them in a dizzying figure eight.
“Fuck, woman!” Spi… the wolf exclaimed, reaching down to run his hands through her golden mane as she teased and tortured and tantalized and titillated and thrilled and taunted and … a thousand other ‘T’ words which eluded his mind at the moment.
Spike took deep, physically unneeded breaths of the cool, damp air that billowed in through the broken window and tried to concentrate on the sound the rain was making as it pounded down on the tin roof above them. The thunderstorm that was raging outside was nothing compared to the tornado he was trying to contain within himself. Every touch of her lips on his skin, every nibble, every bite, every caress of her hand, every brush of her fingers, every hot breath that tickled his cool flesh, every moan, every silken hair that feathered over him was sending him spiraling faster … lifting him higher … propelling him nearer to a maelstrom of uncontrollable, carnal lust.
When Li’l Red pulled her mouth slowly off his balls, raking her teeth roughly across his soft, sensitive flesh, the wolf’s hips lurched and jerked. The tornado he was keeping just barely contained was desperate for release, and the Big, Bad Wolf was having a hard time remembering why he was trying to keep it contained in the first place.
Lightning flashed through the un-curtained, second story windows of the old house and the trees outside flailed and thrashed in the strong wind like giant, multi-armed monsters struggling against the earth that held them captive, rooted in place. Thunder shook the house as it rumbled over the landscape, rattling the windows and vibrating the old wooden structure like a small earthquake … or was that the deep rumbling growl emanating from Big Bad’s throat making the bed vibrate like that?
Buffy wasn’t sure, but she was sure that she was driving him insane and she was sure that she loved doing it. She loved the moans and the growls and the way his body yearned for her; she loved how she could so easily transform him into a crazed wolf with her touch, and he could do the same to her. Was that wrong? Was it wrong to want to feel that power? Was it wrong to want to be wanted? Was it wrong for her to find comfort and passion in the dark with a monster? She tried not to think about the wrongness of it. She couldn’t think about it, because it made her just as much of a monster as he was. She was using him and he was letting her. He was her dirty little secret and it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t go back to being a walking, talking, unfeeling shell of a reanimated corpse. Spike was the only one that could touch her, both literally and figuratively, and she wasn’t prepared to give that up – yet.
Li’l Red teased Big Bad’s jewels with her tongue as she trailed it down further to his taint and wrapped her hot hand around the base of his cock, eliciting another window-rattling moan from the wolf. She started stroking his hard rod slowly and piling up the ‘T’ words again … teasing the sensitive skin between his scrotum and his ass with delicate caresses of her soft, magical tongue.
The wolf could physically feel himself being lifted up by the tornado that was swirling within him as the poor, defenseless girl turned him from the captor into the captive. She had ensnared him in her spell with no chance for escape, and that was perfectly fine with him.
“God, Buffy …” Spike moaned, calling her by her name for the first time since this night began. “Need you…” he begged as she licked and kissed and stroked him, sending his desire whirling faster and faster … picking up speed at a frantic, dizzying pace.
Buffy couldn’t have agreed more. She released her hold on his cock and slid quickly up his body, still between his legs, trapping his throbbing hardness between them, pressing her hips against his as she held her chest up above him with straight arms. Wanton passion burned in her green eyes as she looked down on the wolf, carefully avoiding his eyes. There had been a time that she would’ve been repulsed by the demon … but now she welcomed it. There was a wild beauty to the vampire visage, primal and savage, and she actually felt less vulnerable with the demon than the man. The man wanted her heart; the demon only wanted her body.
Buffy leaned down next to his ear, her short hair tickling his neck and face, bathing him in her scent and sending the whirling cyclone within him raging ever faster. “Then take me…” she whispered, her breath hot and moist against his skin, her heart thundering in her chest, and her need for him swirling within her just as wildly as his need raged within him.
It was all the permission the man needed to release the demonic tempest that he’d been holding in check. The wolf growled savagely and flipped them over, urging her legs apart roughly with one knee and Buffy obliged greedily, opening herself up to the storm that she’d brewed within him. Big Bad pressed her legs up and out, folding her nearly in half, and thrust into her heat in one hard, violent stroke.
“Fuck, yessss!” Buffy shrieked as his cock stretched and filled her and his pubic bone slammed down on her clit, adding fuel to the already building gale within her. Buffy’s hands went to his slim hips, her nails digging into the flesh of his ass as the storm outside the window continued to rage with nearly as much fury as the storm within.
The Big, Bad Wolf’s back arched as he threw his head back and howled a long, piercing, haunting cry when her strong, supple walls consumed him in painfully-sweet rapture. The feeling of being joined with his wild Slayer was something he’d never tire of; it was something he couldn’t describe with words no matter how hard the poet within him endeavored to do so. The blissful howl of the demon was the only verbalization that came close to doing it justice.
The carnal savagery of their lust propelled the lovers higher and higher, spinning them faster and faster as the lightning outside flashed, and thunder rolled over them. The whole house rattled and shuddered as they rode the dark clouds up into the stormy night sky, each offering as much to the other as they received. It was a beautiful, savage dance of primal lust. They both longed to ride the lightning bolts that cracked dangerously just above them, and roll with the thunder as it engulfed the earth. They both endeavored to propel each other into the night sky, to capture the lightning and roll with the tide of thunder as it cascaded over them.
Buffy could feel the lightning as it crackled through the air, striking, it seemed, all around the old house, as if drawn to them, to their energy, to their passion. It raised goose bumps on her skin and her whole body tingled as Spike filled her, pounding into her with wild abandon. He vied with the storm, sending his own bolts of electrically-charged rapture sailing out from her core to every cell in her body. She suddenly felt like they were both being lifted up … turning, spinning, caught in a wild, unstoppable, and uncontrollable cyclone of ecstasy.
Buffy wasn’t even aware of the scream that escaped her lips as she lost the ability to do anything but feel the rapture within her body. Spike’s roar of release merged with hers as the storm of their orgasms took them up to the very place that lightning bolts were conceived, at the feet of Zeus. Suddenly they seemed to be nothing more than electrons and protons drawn to each other – merging then separating, bouncing off and back again as they spun faster and faster until they both EXPLODED. The lovers crashed down towards earth as if hurtled by the god of the sky himself – a deadly white-hot bolt of absolute power, which consumed and fused them together in that moment of mutual release.
The lovers’ declarations of bliss joined with the thunder as the storm raged outside. A cool mist of rain billowed over the secret lovers through the broken window, but neither seemed to notice as they raced over the earth on the waves of thunder they’d created. Like a dark, vaporous rollercoaster, they rode the rumbling waves over hills, down into valleys, above the towns and cities and farms and fields of the earth. It seemed to go on forever, until finally the ride slowed, the thunder faded, and the lightning moved past them, onto the next town, the next farm, the next crypt or cave … the next pair of amorous, forbidden, preternatural lovers.
Buffy gasped for air as she clung to Spike, her body still thrumming and tingling from the ride they’d just come down from. Spike released her legs and she wrapped them around his hips as he collapsed down atop her, unable to control his trembling muscles for even one second longer. Buffy finally forced her fingers to loosen their grip on his ass, sure that she’d left eight perfect bleeding crescents on his round cheeks, but Spike never complained when she drew blood; he wore the wounds she bestowed as badges of honor.
She wrapped her arms around his chiseled back, as she tried to breathe and get her limbs to start working properly again. Spike tangled his fingers in her short hair and rested his head down next to hers, breathing in the sweet scent that was no one but Buffy. From her shampoo, to her glistening skin, to her rapture, which covered him, it was an intoxicating fragrance he wanted to remember for all eternity. He held no illusions: this would not last forever. He treasured every stolen moment with his Slayer … the Slayer, and wanted to hold the passion of her scent, the softness of her skin, the heat of her body, the power of her muscles, the lustfulness of her heart in his memories forever.
Buffy ran her hands gently up and down Spike’s damp back; the mist that had blown in through the broken window cooled his skin even more than normal and it felt wonderfully refreshing against her overheated flesh. Spike thought he heard her … purring? Or perhaps it was just deep sighs of gratification. He closed his eyes and sighed in return, savoring the feel of her body under him, the pounding of her heart against his chest, and the heat that radiated from her and engulfed him. It was his own personal heaven – fleeting though it may be.
Li’l Red Riding Hood, Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs
eyes you have,
lips you have.
keep my sheep suit on
What a big
heart I have-the better to love you with.
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