Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 11: Just a Taste
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“Oooh, ooh! I think she should pick the countertop! What about you, honey?” Psyche squeals, clapping her hands.

Cupid grins at his love. “Well, there are upsides to both, dear. Floor, nice and secure, hard to fall down if you‘re already down, eh? But the countertop, well, it’s exciting and different. Oh wait, I think she’s made up her mind...”

***

With a sinister grin, Buffy replies, “Countertop.”

***

“Ha ! I knew it ! Let him do most of the work, dearie!” Psyche grins wildly at Cupid.

***

Spike growls low in his throat and grabs her around the waist, lifting her off the ground. With a quick movement, he places her on the countertop with her legs dangling off the front. He dives back for her lips as he stands between her knees, hands resting on her thighs. She moans as his fingers dig into her flesh, struggling for control. Breaking contact with his lips, Buffy nips at Spike’s earlobe, her tongue tracing the outside edge, hot and insistent.

She breathes into his ear, “Still hungry, Spike. The syrup?” Shivering from her warm breath on his skin, Spike reaches behind him and grabs the bottle from the island to hand it to her. Meanwhile, Buffy continto kto kiss her way down his neck, her hand on his cool chest. Bottle in hand, she leans back and meets his dark blue eyes. She holds it above their heads and squeezes. A long stream of chocolate drips down Spike’s bare chest. Startled, he starts to open his mouth but only emits a long groan as Buffy dives to his chest. He feels the slick path of her tongue as she catches the chocolate at its lowest point. Pressing with her warm, wet tongue, she slowly traces up his chest, capturing the sweet syrup. The tip of her tongue teases his nipple as she gathers up a drip. Spike throws his head back, his grip on her thighs tightening even further. Satisfied with her work on his chest, Buffy leans back and pours chocolate onto her hand. It runs down her fingers in random patterns. Keeping her eyes focused on his, she extends her pink tongue and begins to clean her fingers, one by one. Spike’s eyes dip down to follow her tongue up and down her fingers. He swallows hard as she slides one finger all the way in her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure. Hand fully clean, she holds the bottle toward him.

“Want another taste, Spike?”

He reaches out and wraps his hand around hers and the bottle. “You know I do, pet. Never satisfied.” Still clutching her hand with one of his, he uses the other hand to whip her towel open, revealing her completely naked body . Almost simultaneously, he tips the bottle and lets it pour down her chest in several places, watching the slow rivulets of chocolate make their way down her bronzed skin. Licking his lips, he takes the bottle and sets it on the counter. “Look at the mess I made, luv. Shall I?”

Speechless in anticipation of his mouth on her body, Buffy nods, skin flushing. His tongue firm and probing, Spike leans down to her breast, lapping up the chocolate there before taking her nipple in, rolling it around in his mouth. Buffy twitches, her hands going to his shoulders for support. Methodically, with maddening patience, Spike touches her hot skin with his cool tongue, teasing both breasts as Buffy’s breathing increases. Leaning back, his job almost completed, Spike delivers a devastating smile as he runs his thumb across one of her nipples, collecting a bit of sweet syrup. Buffy’s eyes go to his thumb and he holds it up to her parted lips. Her tongue darts out, wetting the skin and taking the bit of chocolate from his thumb. Baring her blunt teeth, Buffy bites into the pad of his thumb, bringing her eyes to his. His throat bobs as he feels the twinge of pain in his thumb. She broke the skin slightly. She knows just what to do to get his full and undivided attention. He flinches as he feels her suck on the skin there, drawing a small amount of blood out. Unconsciously, his eyes flick to her neck and the blood he can see, can hear pumping there. God, for a taste. His mouth feels suddenly dry and he thinks maybe he should take Buffy’s offer of some blood before he loses complete control and bites her. That would certainly destroy everything.

“Um, Buffy?” Struggling to re-focus her eyes, she meets his gaze. Her brow furrows slightly. “S’pose I could still get that blood from you? Having a...uh...hard time concentrating.” Spike is reluctant to admit that he is craving her blood, for fear she will believe he wants to hurt her. Hurting her is the furthest thing from his mind now, though it was at the top of his list two days ago. Funny how things turn on a dime.

She concentrates on him, studying his expression. She sees the strain of control in the muscles of his face, his neck, in fact, his entire body. She lets a minute pass before answering him.

***

“No way.” Psyche’s voice drops to a whisper. “You don’t think...she wouldn’t... Cupid, love, did you shoot them again?”

Cupid’s eyes are wide, watching the interaction between his two subjects. “No, my dear. Only the lust arrows.”

“Then why? Why would she...trust him with such a thing? I mean...whoa. Do you think she will really?”

“It’s starting to look that way.”

***

“Sure, you can get it.” Buffy’s voice takes on a strange quality, intense and rough. Reluctant to leave her warmth, Spike starts to step out from between her legs to reach the fridge, silently cursing himself for having to interrupt them. Suddenly, her knees clamp together, pinning him there.

“Buffy...what are you doing... I’m sorry, luv. I just need a taste.” He looks at her, wondering if she’s mad at him, remembering that he’s a vampire and her previous interest in staking him.

“And I said you could have one.” Her eyes are deep and unfathomable. Buffy’s hands reach out and take his. She places his left hand on her hip, then takes the right hand and guides it to her hair. Still confused, Spike cocks his head at her. Why won’t she let him go? She makes his hand gently push her hair back away from her neck, shivering from the cool contact on her hot skin and Spike’s eyes widen dramatically. He starts backwards, but her Slayer strength prevents him from getting away.

“Slayer! What are you playing at?” He can feel his skin begin to vibrate in anticipation and fear.

“I think you know. And I’m not playing.”

“But...you can’t mean. You want me to...?” Spike shakes his head slightly at her, disbelieving. The Slayer, Buffy, is offering him her blood? A taste of the most intoxicating nectar on this planet?

“I do mean and I do want.” She purses her lips in a pretty pout. “You don’t want to? It sure seemed like you did.”

Spike swallows, his voice drops. “Buffy, I want to. God, I can’t even begin to tell you. But I can’t. No way.”

Now her expression clouds over. “And why the hell not? Not good enough for you?”

“Oh Jesus, pet. I just don’t think you realize what you are offering me. If I...” He stumbles over the words and the concept. “...bite you...what if I can’t stop?”

“You will. If you can’t, I’ll make you. I am the Slayer, remember.”

“But Buffy...why?” His chest heaving, Spike keeps his hand tangled in her blond hair as he watches her.

“Can we not talk why? Because I want you to, okay? Isn’t that enough?”

Spike bites his lip, wondering at this creature in his arms. The tough Slayer facade is gone, replaced by a still powerful, but vulnerable girl. And she wants him. All of him. He nods.

“Promise not to stake me?”

“Promise not to kill me?”

He smiles. Only the two of them could joke about a matter of life and death. “It’s a deal.” Spike stands still, eyes on hers, almost afraid to move. Finally, in slow motion, he leans forward and gently presses his lips to hers, running his tongue over her bottom lip. She opens her mouth, sending her tongue out to meet his, gently. The temperature begins to rise between them. His hand grips her hip tighter as he feels her hands run up his chest and then down again, lightly raking the skin. She does it again, harder, and he smells the blood well up on his skin. A low growl emanates from his chest. Buffy is drawing him out, elevating things quickly. She breaks contact with his lips, kisses his jaw bone, moving towards his ear.

She speaks quiet and low. “Want me to go first?” Before he can figure out what she means, Buffy quickly sinks her dull teeth into his neck. Hard. He starts at the sensation, but is also immediately aroused beyond all reason. He feels the bones in his face shift and his teeth elongate.

“Bloody hell, pet.” His voice is cracking, but it is the point of no return. As she continues to suck on his skin, bringing the blood to the surface, he bends to her throbbing warm neck. With a delicacy he did not know he possessed, Spike kisses the skin of her neck first. He takes a deep and unneeded breath before letting the tips of his fangs touch against her skin, pressing but not piercing.

She releases his neck long enough to whisper into his ear, breath hot and urgent.

“Do it.”

In the same breath, Spike sinks his teeth into her neck in one smooth movement. His world begins to swim almost immediately. Her warm blood flows into his mouth, filled with a power and sweetness beyond measure. It is pure intoxication. The strong pounding rhythm of her heart echoes in his brain as he continues to draw in her hot essence.

Buffy, surprised at how little it hurts, can feel her heart beating in her ears. His cool lips are against her neck and she logically knows his teeth are in her, but it is not what she is concentrating on. Her eyes wide open, she rests the side of her head on his shoulder, allowing him wide access to her neck. She watches his throat, sees the artery pumping in his neck, realizing her blood is filling it, coursing through him, warming him from the inside out. This is why she wanted him to bite her. To fill him like he filled her. Her need to be as close to him as possible is both comforting and overwhelming. Lost in her reverie, Buffy realizes she is becoming lightheaded. The blood is flowing fast and thick from her jugular and her conscious mind tells her there is a limit. She needs to stop him before that limit is reached. She lifts her mouth to his ear and bites his lobe as hard as she can. He flinches but does not release her. She whispers into his ear.

The blood is pounding, filling him with a life force of incredible proportions. Spike knows he has to stop, is still conscious that he is biting Buffy, but it is so hard to let go. Of her warmth, her passion, her life, all being passed to him in her blood. He feels her nip his ear and realizes it is a warning. Her voice fills his head.

“Spike, love. Stop.” The word love gets as much attention as the word stop in his dizzy mind. Perhaps he imagined that part. But wait, stop. He has to stop. With a supreme effort, Spike takes a breath and pulls back from her sharply. The roaring in his ears begins to dim as he separates from Buffy. Knowing he is still in game face, Spike ducks his head. Her hand goes to his face, lifting it. Buffy’s warm fingers trace down his sharp features, smoothing them with her touch. His face relaxes into his human guise, and the expression of worry is pronounced.

“Are you okay? I think...I didn’t take too much?” Her gaze is glazed and warm, slightly distant.

“No, no. I’m okay. Bit on the dizzy side but I’m fine. Really. And you?” She smiles at him, trembling slightly.

“Cor, pet. You are...thank you.” He takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing her palm softly.

***

“Cupid! What the...what is going on here? They are falling for each other already? Am I right?” Psyche paces by the pool, smiling, unable to take her eyes off the scene below her.

“It’s true, love. I can’t explain it...of course, I have rarely dosed any two people with that much lust. Maybe it’s clouding their judgment. And then there’s the fact that neither one is exactly ‘normal.’ This game of yours is getting better all the time, sweetie.” Cupid stands up and grabs her around the waist, stopping her pacing. “Why don’t we leave them alone a bit longer, see what happens? I’ll give them until nightfall. Then we’ll see...”