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Chapter 15:

It was late afternoon when Spike moved in his sleep, looking for something. He wasn't sure what he was looking for at first, knowing only that something should be there that wasn't. As his senses awakened he realized what it was. The Slayer.

Spike groaned, his body was still tired and a little bruised. He wondered how the little minx could possibly move after the previous night. Once Spike had awakened her body to the possibilities of sex, she had become ravenous for it. She demanded not just that they do it over and over, but had the naive impression that she could learn every way to do it in one night.

Spike had done his best to oblige, taking her a different way each time. Not that he'd showed her half his tricks, but she had given over to his instructions completely, letting him position her however he wanted. Still there were things he'd reserved for later on.

He figured that as soon as the sun went down he'd take her to a sex shop, if nothing else he needed some lube. There was no point in hurting or forcing the girl when she was so willing and so eager to do what he wanted.

But where the hell had she gone? The warmth of his flesh, from where she had slept, told him that it wasn't that long ago he'd held her.

Grudgingly he opened his eyes, to look around for her. His body was so covered with her scent, and more specifically the scent of their sex, that there was no way he could use his nose to track her down.

He rolled to his hands and knees and looked around the room. They'd made a pretty mess of it, the couch was overturned, the tele was on the floor (he hoped unbroken) and several paintings had come down off the walls.

They'd made one attempt to move to the bedroom, but as the Slayer had turned her back to him, he'd simply had no choice but to fuck her from behind, and they never made it past the first few steps. Now Spike used the banister to pull himself up as his delightfully sore muscles protested.

He walked slowly up the stairs, towards muffled sounds he heard coming from above him. As he got nearer, it sounded as if she was struggling with something, and there was a strange rustling sound. He pushed open the door to his room, and stopped dead at the frightening sight before him.

The Slayer was wearing the wedding dress.

She was engaged in an odd sort of dance as she reached behind her to try and finish fastening it up. Unfortunately the thick beaded straps that were designed to sit just off her shoulder, were restraining her arms, and keeping her from being able to finish zipping up the dress.

When she saw Spike she asked sweetly, "Will you please help me?"

"Why?" he croaked.

He couldn't believe this. This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen anymore. Girls weren't supposed to expect you to marry them just cause you'd had a little fun. Not to mention the fact that he was a vampire and she was a vampire slayer. Or was this part of some scheme on her part to house break him so she wouldn't have to kill him? Spike wanted no part of it.

"Because I can't do it myself," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I-I mean. . . What's with the dress?" he stammered.

Although there had been a look of intense concentration on her face as she'd struggled with the dress, there'd also been a general air of happiness about her. At Spike's words her face fell, the edges of her mouth twitching as if she was fighting a battle to keep smiling with some unseen force, which was tugging her mouth into a frown.

"I'm so stupid," she said quietly to herself, as she renewed her struggles with the dress. "Must look so stupid."

She made little whimpering sounds like she was about to cry and she struggled frantically now, not to get the dress on, but to rip it off.

'She's completely crazy,' Spike thought. Although he wasn't sure whether it was simply typical female insanity, or the clinical kind. In either case it was a little late to start requiring sanity in his women. Besides running from bridal Buffy wasn't going to get him laid, so he figured he just had to deal with it.

He moved closer to her, and she collapsed, sobbing, into a pile of lace. He knelt next to her and gathered her into his arms.

"Hey, now. Stop that. What's going on?" he asked as he stroked her hair.

"Nothing. Stupid." Was all she said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

"It's all right. You can tell me, kitten," he coaxed her.

She looked up at him with innocent green eyes, "I just wanted to be pretty, you know, like a girl. But I just look stupid and ugly, don't I?"

There was no hint of anything but pure honesty in her voice. She wasn't fishing for complements, he doubted she would even know how. She honestly didn't realize how beautiful she was.

"Oh, baby," he said as he hugged her and kissed the part in her hair. "You're giving me way too much credit. I'm an evil shallow man. Wouldn't have touched you if you weren't gorgeous."

She sniffed. "Really?"

"Really."

A bright smile lit up her face and she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He returned her embrace and bent his head to nuzzle her neck in the place where he'd bitten her the night before.

He stopped as he saw the scar. Not wanting to let her know anything was wrong, he quickly kissed her neck as he intended, but his mind was racing.

It wasn't so much the way the scar looked, it was the way it felt. He'd meant to mark her, to leave a feeding claim on her. It was really a routine sort of thing, he'd done it dozens of times. It let other vampires know to leave the human alone.

Although some vampires did find humans they found especially tasty to mark, most of the time humans who were helping vampires were marked. Spike had often marked humans in this way so that the human could report to Spike at his lair, and his minions would leave the human alone.

That wasn't what he'd done to the Slayer. The mark he'd left on her was far more powerful. He had marked her, not as a preferred meal, or as a helper, but as a potential Childe. The procedure was after all the same, it was the intent that mattered, and in his lust his demon had marked her as potential 'his forever'.

'Is this really what I want?' he asked himself. It was a terrifying and an appealing thought. To make this creature his mate. To have this beautiful warrior in his bed forever. 'And what about Drusilla?' William's voice whispered. 'She's your destiny.'

But before his mind could sort out his tangled emotions and the impulsive acts of his demon, the Slayer whispered in his ear, "So can we have more sex now?"

He laughed, "Can't get enough of me can you?"

He swept her onto her back so that he was crouching over her, and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss, pulling him close to her as her hands roamed his body. She pinched his nipple, and he was forced to break their kiss as a delighted gasp escaped his lips.

"Nope," she giggled. "You're even better than ice cream."

He smiled devilishly at her, a wicked idea coursing through his mind. "You could have both at once, you know?"

"I can?!" her eyes lit up and a goofy smile crossed her face. "Show me!" she demanded.

Laughing they got to their feet, and she practically dragged him downstairs into the kitchen. Once there she ran to the fridge and pulled out the ice cream. As she held the carton in her hands a slight frown crossed her face.

"Something wrong with it?" he asked as he rummaged through a drawer for a spoon.

"They had all these different flavors at the store," she began apologetically. "And I didn't know what kind to get. So I got one that has different kinds." She held it out, waiting for his approval.

It was hard not to laugh at her as she stood holding the carton of neapolitan ice cream as if she'd done something wrong. He wondered exactly what was going on in her head that she was worried the flavor would effect the sex.

"That's just fine," he told her, biting his lip so as not to hurt her feelings by laughing at her. "You can use whichever flavor you like best or all of them."

He took the carton from her and opened it. He held the spoon over the stripped ice cream. "Which flavor?" he asked.

A serious look crossed her face as she considered his question. Having come to a decision she looked up at him and firmly told him, "Pink."

He scooped out a thin strip of strawberry ice cream. She looked at the spoon, and it was clear by the expression on her face that she thought she deserved more than that. Then she opened her mouth expectantly.

He chuckled, "Not like that, luv."

She closed her mouth and looked at him puzzled until he began to spread the ice cream on his cock. He shivered as he coated himself with the icy treat. Just because temperature couldn't hurt him, didn't mean he wasn't sensitive to it, and he delighted in the cold wetness that he swirled around his cock. He closed his eyes, and leaned back against the kitchen island reveling in the sensation.

His cock went hard and he screamed, "Fuck!" as a hot tongue began to eagerly lick the desert off of his erection.

His eyes sprang open and he looked down to see the Slayer on her knees in front of him.

She stopped to ask, "Does that feel good," although for once her innocence was an act. The twinkling in her eyes said that she had a pretty clear idea of what she was doing to him.

All he could do was whimper in reply. She quickly returned to licking him, carefully cleaning all the ice cream off of him. The contrast between the cold ice cream and her hot tongue was incredible. His fingers dug into the island and he could feel bits of it breaking off in his hands, as he fought to find some way to control the pleasure raging through his cock.

Although he'd shown her how to make him hard with her hands the night before, she hadn't gone down on him, he'd concentrated on keeping her pleased and distracting her from any vampire slayer thoughts she might have.

Still she had learned to interpret the reactions of his body, and every time he came close to coming, she would stop and enjoy whatever ice cream was on the spoon. After the strawberry, she covered him with vanilla, then chocolate. Finally she drew the spoon across all three flavors and tried them and him at once.

By this point Spike was weak with need and desperate for release. She had obviously learned from him the night before how to torture someone with pleasure and make them beg for more. Plus she was enjoying having him as mad with desire and desperate for release as he had made her.

"Please," he begged.

"Please what?" she asked trying to imitate his manner from the night before. "What is it you want, Spike?"

"Suck me," he moaned. "Please, let me come in your mouth."

He was too lost in his lust to even consider that his request might alarm a young inexperienced girl. But then the Slayer had no real preconceptions about sex, and without a moments hesitation she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth.

He moaned and gripped the island tighter to keep his hips from thrusting into her mouth. After a moment he trusted himself enough to let go with one hand, and place it on her head, gently guiding her into a gentle rhythm.

He looked down to see his cock moving in and out of her hot mouth and he began to rant incoherently. "Yes, oh fuck, yeah. Buffy. Like that. Yes, please."

He was lost in the feel of her. Every sense focused in on the beautiful warrior who was willingly on her knees before him. And so he didn't realize they weren't alone until he heard the distinctive clicking of a gun being cocked.





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