Beast Master

“Red, I love you…” Willow tossed and turned beneath her sheets as Spike’s words taunted her, churning through her mind like a broken record. Frustrated, she flipped onto her back and stared at the ceiling, trying to puzzle out what had happened that night.

One minute he was promising her release, the next he was professing his love. His whole demeanor changed. Aggression was replaced by tender touches so feather light she could barely feel him. Cocksure attitude was muted by proclamations of adoration so poetic that even Willow felt like her teeth might crack. And all the while she was so dizzy with want and need that she had practically screamed in frustration as he tortured her with talk and showing her the “love and respect she deserved”. That was when she snapped to her senses and realized he was still trying to play her for a complete fool.

Willow wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to get him out of her dorm room, but at least she’d broken the thrall he’d held over her before anything had actually happened.

Flipping over again, she fisted her pillow to try and get comfortable. She curled up on her side and closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come. She felt tense. Her legs tangled into the sheets and she wrapped herself up in a cocoon. Moments later, she kicked off the sheets and flipped to the other side, muscles tight and her belly coiled into a knot. Finally she flipped onto her back again, and drew in a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she practiced a meditative exercise, allowing her mind to drift.

Inhale. Exhale. Her pulse slowed. Her pulse kicked up.

She could feel his kisses on her neck and she arched her back into him. As his lips closed around one pebbled nipple, she scraped her fingernail against the other until it formed a stiff peak, ready for him. She gasped when she felt fangs grazing across sensitive flesh and her fingers curled into his shock of white hair as he worked her into a slow, torturous frenzy.

Fingers slipped beneath her panties and she stroked herself as she imagined Spike thrusting inside her. Arching and writhing on the bed, she could feel his piercing blue eyes drilling into her. And as his face morphed into his vampiric visage, adrenaline charged through her, fear and euphoria blending into a potent aphrodisiac. She bared the column of her throat to him and as she felt his fangs plunge into her flesh, her body convulsed as the orgasm swept through her.

She had no trouble sleeping after that.

The next day, she went to her classes and did her best to forget about the strange evening with Spike. Riley caught her spacing off during the psychology lecture and Buffy gave her a hard time about it – but they both seemed happy that she seemed to be coming out of her funk over Oz. They invited her to go to a movie and even though she felt like a third wheel, she agreed to go. Maybe it would help keep her mind off of Spike.


* * *

Bloody movie. How long was it going to go? She'd taken a big enough drink with her, you'd think by now she'd have visited the loo several time over. He paced the hall outside the theater. Waiting. Hoping she'd lose the Slayer and Captain Cardboard, and make some time for him.

Last night had been... incredible. He might have started off wanting to help her find herself... to rid her of the sorrow caused by Oz. Then he'd been all sexed up... she was so bloody gorgeous when she was hot. Then... a light switch had been thrown. He knew he loved her. That he would move heaven and earth to make her see they were were meant for each other.

But first he had to get her to give him some time. Frowning, he hit his fist against one of the video games outside the theater.

It was a good movie and full of action, but Riley was really annoying with all his whispering about how unrealistic the Jason Bourne character was. So when the action finally came to a lull, Willow took the opportunity to run out for a quick potty break.

She burst through the theater doors and stopped as she looked for the bathroom. Spotting the neon sign, she bolted for it, but another movie had just let out so she had to weave upstream through the crowd to get to there. She made it to the stall just in time, but it was one without a lock so she had to hold her foot against it.

Spike hesitated, for a full quarter of a second, before following her in. He strode to the stall, and put his hands on the frame of the door to the stall. "Been waiting for you. Thought you might like to go for a drink after the cinema... talk about it, yeah?"

Willow let out a squeak of surprise at the unexpected male voice right outside the stall. And not just any voice. “Spike? Omigod,” she hunched over herself reflexively, caught quite literally with her pants down. “Get out of here! Are you crazy?”

"For you? Yeah," he admitted, speaking against the door and turning his head slightly when a woman entered and gasped. Giving her an innocent look, he was surprised when she stomped out.

Quickly finishing her business, Willow pulled the door open, drawing Spike with it. “No, no, get out!” she gave him a push so she could get out of the stall. “You can’t be in here. Didn’t you read the sign on the way in?” She moved to the sink to wash her hands putting her back to the vampire. She glanced up and even though she couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror, she could feel his eyes on her.

He gave a half shrug. "Had to see you." Gripping her shoulders, he made her turn around. "Tell me you don't feel the same. Tell me you didn't dream about me," he said, confident that she felt about him, same was as he felt about her. "Tell me that after I left, you didn't feel me between your legs... didn't call my name. I know I called yours." His eyes blazed with all the intensity of last night.

Green eyes popped wide, her startled expression belying the denial that automatically fell off her lips. “No! No way. No dreaming or… or… or feeling or calling of anything or anybody. Especially you. I broke your sneaky spell,” she reminded him. “It’s not working on me anymore.” Her flesh burned where he touched her even through the fabric of her shirt.

She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “You can stop teasing me now – you made your point. I’m not brooding over Oz anymore,” she shrugged herself out from under his grip and started for the door. “See?” she waved her hands in gesture of the theater as she emerged from the bathroom. “This is me not brooding.”

He followed, hard on her heels. "Who said anything about teasing, or a spell?" He caught her arm and swung her around before she could go back in. "You mean that latin gibberish you threw around." Something shifted in the back of his mind. Something wasn't quite right.

“Yes. That Latin gibberish,” Willow shot back in a hushed voice as people walking through the mult-plex gave them a wide berth. “That was me breaking me free from that thrall you had over me. Take lessons from Dracula did you?”

"I don't thrall... I don't need to bloody thrall," he protested. "But if you want... need to blame this on something," he said, moving his mouth over her ear, "I don't mind Red. You can call it whatever you like, yeah?"

A shiver shot down her spine just as sure as if she were struck by a bolt of lightening. Jumping back, she stammered, “N-no! No need to blame anything… because there’s no thing . Nothing! I’m good. You’re good. We’re both good,” she held her hands out to keep him at arms length. “Separately. We’re good as two mature, independent, non-thrally people who really have no reason to be touching. Ever.” She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the smoldering heat pooling in her belly.

“Now I gotta go. I’m missing the movie,” she started backing toward the theater, still holding her hand out to keep him at a distance. “So… see ya later. No. Not later. Bye!” she squeaked and turned to bolt into the theater.

The urge to follow was almost uncontrollable. That's what stopped him. Puzzled, he stared at her, biting his lip when the door slammed.

Flustered and out of breath, Willow slipped back into her seat next to Buffy. Fortunately, it was the action scene finale and with all the fighting and car chasing, neither Buffy or Riley noticed her slinking down in the seat and glancing anxiously over her shoulder.

When they emerged from the theater, she was so distracted looking for Spike through the crowd that she didn’t even realize she’d agreed to go have coffee with them until they were walking into the Starbuck’s. Riley was going on and on about the movie so it was fairly easy for Willow to lose herself to her thoughts and still participate in the discussion with the occasional agreement about a plot point.

Cup of coffee in hand, Spike sauntered over, sucking in his cheeks as he assessed the situation. How long would it take before she noticed? Three, two... right, their gazes clashed.

He reached their table, and pulled up a chair up as close to Willow's as it would go. "Right, this is your lucky night... I've decided to rescue you from Sponge Bob Square Pants here. I'd offer to sweep you away but the Slayer is giving me the evil eye."

“Excuse me?” Riley glared at Spike and then turned a questioning look on Buffy as if she was somehow responsible for the vampire’s presence.

Willow’s face turned a dozen shades of red, finally settling on something between firetruck and red hot chili pepper. “Uh… hey Spike,” she managed finally, trying and failing to look natural. “What’s up? What are you doing here?” she said the last with a pointed look that begged him not to let on to Buffy about what had happened between them.

"Just what I said, here to save you," he answered easily, putting his hand on her thigh. "Give you something more interesting to think about."

Buffy stared at him. "We were being interesting. But since you didn't see the movie..."

"Was there sex? Hot, steamy, need to fuck right now, sex?" His eyes turned an unholy shade of blue as he moved his hand and rested it at the juncture of Willow’s thighs.

Willow released an audible “eep!” as she clutched Spike’s hand under the table and held it at bay. “Spike! Uhm – wow. Inappropriate much?” She let out a nervous laugh as if she was only responding to what he said and not what he was doing under the table.

“I have to agree with Willow,” Riley cleared his throat to tamp down the color that had risen to his cheeks at Spike’s crude and unwelcome contribution to the discussion. “Nobody invited you Spike. Get the hell out of here.”

The last thing Willow needed was Spike getting into it with Riley when he was acting so strangely. It was almost as if—

“Oh my God!” Willow blurted out loud, reflexively covering her mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding Spike’s like a vice. Somehow she’d reversed the thrall and put it on him. That was the only explanation. “Uh… I feel sick. I have to go.” She jerked back in her chair and stood up, waving her hands as Riley automatically got up with her. “No, no no… sit. You guys finish your coffee. Don’t want to spoil your date. She grabbed Spike and hauled him up to his feet. “Spike can walk me home, right?”

"Right. Bout time you saw this my way." He gave a mock salute to Riley, "Cap'n boring, Slayer." As he followed the witch out, his openly admired her swaying backside and wasn't the least bit embarrassed when they reached the street and she turned and saw him.

He cocked his head. "Did it work? Talking about sex, did it get you in the mood?"

“No! Spike! Stop… just… oh… holy cow. This is awful,” Willow put her hand to her forehead and started walking toward the dorm. This was crazy. She had to think. She had to figure out what she’d done wrong in order to put it back.

"No its not. What's awful is you, sitting there alone," he countered, shadowing her. "You're beautiful and sexy, and you don't even know it, thanks to that werewolf with flypaper for a tongue." He was quite sure Oz never gave her the praise she deserved.

They were up the stairs and in the hallway when he looped and arm around her from behind, and nuzzled her neck. "Glad you came to your senses though. No need to suffer again tonight, yeah?"

Willow closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. She’d done her best to ignore him the entire walk back, but he was saying such nice things. Things she wanted so badly to hear. Things she needed to hear in order to move past Oz. But he didn’t mean any of it… she knew that now. It wasn’t fair to let him go on like this… it wasn’t any more fair than when he’d done the same to her. And now she wasn't even so sure he'd done anything to her at all other than plain old fashioned seduction. And she'd fallen for it! Oh boy... had she fallen for it.

“Spike,” she turned and stepped back until his arm fell away. “This is serious. Listen to me. I-I think I messed up. I can fix it, but I need to tell me exactly what you did to me last night so I can factor in all the mojo in when I undo what I did.”

His eyebrow quirked. "Let's see now... I was holding you up and you had your legs around my waist. You were riding me and... right, I needed to get my bloody clothes off." He took a step toward her, letting his gaze travel slowly down her body. "I kissed you over your knickers. You said no, but your legs... they didn't want to let my shoulders go." He grew a bit hoarse as he recounted the rest and sensed he was getting her aroused all over again. "I pressed my tongue up... felt you press back... It would have been beautiful. It will be tonight," he promised, reaching for her again.

Willow’s breathing had grown shallow as he spoke. With every step toward her, she backed up until she was pressed up against the outside of her door. “Oh Goddess… Aphrodite,” she said in a hoarse whisper. She swallowed hard as desire pulsed through her body. There was no denying what she felt right now. There had been no thrall... not until she'd whammied him with it.

Snatching his hand, she boldly dragged him inside her room and shut the door. Green eyes clashed with his piercing blues and before she knew what was happening, her lips found his and his kisses took her breath away.

It really was like leaving the vcr on pause, then hitting play. This time he meant to make sure she didn't hit the pause button. He'd take it slower, give her everything he had. Everything... because he had to.

"Mmm." The sounds of their mouths meeting and the short breaks they took when she needed to breathe filled the silence in the room. He pushed her up against the door, placed his palms over hers and used them to pin her arms up above her head as they kissed. "Beautiful," he whispered, moving his mouth over her jaw, then dragging the tip of his tongue up to explore her ear. All the while, his palms slid against hers, his body pressed and released, emulating the motions of sex, giving her a taste of what was to come.

Her entire body flushed as heat poured over her. She didn’t want him to stop, but something felt off. There was no aggression in his actions. No forcefulness. No fangs. He was being so slow… so careful… so tender. It wasn’t how she imagined it in bed at all. This wasn’t the Spike she knew. “Spike… this isn’t real… it’s not…” she gasped out between ragged breaths as sensibility warred with sensation.

"Its real. It's real Red," he insisted, closing his eyes as he felt her shudder against him. "My love... it's real, you'll see."

Willow let out a frustrated groan as his proclamations of love shattered any thread of hope that maybe he wasn’t being affected by her magic afterall. Maybe he just wanted her as much as she wanted him. Her body quaked beneath his touch, no longer out of anticipation for what would come, but out of dread for what would not come once the spell was broken. But the longer she put it off, the harder it would be to do.

Looking up at the ceiling while soft kisses feathered across her shoulder, she forced herself to speak the reversal spell she’d managed to work out. “Goddess Aphrodite, hear my plea,” she sucked in a breath as his lips closed over her stiff nipple. “Your power is great, but I ask that you undo what I’ve done to set love back to its rightful place,” she squeezed her eyes shut and prepared for Spike’s reaction as she recited the incantation to break the love spell. “Extrico mihi amor. Extrico ostendo sum vestri votum. Extrico amor!”

"Extrico what!" Spike staggered back, his body burning for her, but his mind suddenly cleared of the fog. Chest heaving, he stared at her, his eyes full of accusation.

He tried to understand, but rage was quickly replacing the false love she'd implanted in him. "Think it's funny, do you? Turning me into a bleeding sap?" He got in her face. "What is it Red? Wasn't enough that I wanted to help you... that I wanted you? Had to tame me so I wouldn't be like him? Wanted me on a leash because you're afraid of the beast?" Her eyes were wide, and her scent was still driving him insane, but he wasn't about to be distracted. "Here's a little secret... you liked it," catching her jacket, he yanked her up against him, "you liked this ." He kissed her roughly, grinding his mouth over hers, and inserting his tongue between her teeth and cupping her breast the instant he felt she might resist. It went on for longer than he thought, but he broke off. "This is how it could have been. But you wanted me changed... like the rest of them, yeah? Nice and chipped. Well fuck that," he whispered, letting her go.

Scathing truths collided with scorching kisses, stoking the inferno that blazed inside her now. Choking back a whimper, Willow stumbled when he released her, eyes wide with shock. Her mind went numb in bleak contrast to the blistering sensations that still roiled through her body.

After Oz left, she thought the fire inside her had been extinguished forever, but Spike had managed to ignite it. And now the flame licked her… teased her… all consuming, it threatened to burn her alive.

Oz left because he thought she couldn’t accept the beast that lived inside him and now Spike was doing the same thing – only he recognized her dirty little secret. He knew.

With no voice and no words to express what she was feeling, all she could do was watch as he turned away, duster flaring around his legs as he strode out.

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