A Very Ordinary Evil

Part 9 – Satisfying the Cravings of the Soul


The next morning, Willow’s bedroom


Willow stirred, and felt something cold and solid next to her. She rolled over and saw Spike, sleeping on the edge of her bed, still fully clad, down to his ammunition boots. Willow felt oddly cheated and strangely comforted at the same time. Spike hadn’t taken advantage of her weakness the previous night, and that he had kept his promise not to leave her alone.

She looked at him, motionless and to all intents and purposes dead. She realised that she could ene hne him, rather like a sculpture. She looked at the lean musculature under the tight black tee-shirt, the astonishing cheekbones, the peroxided hair. She leaned closer and looked at the short hairs behind his ears. {Oh Goddess! William the Bloody’s a curly top!} went through her mind. She continued to explore, visually, every inch of her man’s body. She dwelt on the slender whipcord muscles of his arms, and although the jeans were not tight enough to tell her the same about his legs, she was fairly sure they were equally well defined. She also lingeringly eyed the bulge at his groin, quietly amused that vampires seemed to have the same ‘morning’ reaction as mortal men.

She sighed. After last night’s revelations, he certainly would not want her any more. In her own mind, she was truly beyond redemption.

Spike woke, and immediately sensed her eyes on him. He rolled over to look at her, stunned once again by both her beauty and her unawareness of that beauty.

“How’re you feeling luv?”

Willow looked at him, confused. Why was he talking to her? She knew she did not deserve his attention.

“Ummm … okay, I guess.”

Spike looked directly at her and, fixing her with his eyes, said, “Pet, after last night, you know you aren’t ‘okay’. You told me things which you’ve always kept hidden. Seeing how you reacted, I’d say you’re thinking you’re worthless, undeserving, bad.”

Willow looked up at him, amazed at hisightight. “H-how did you know?”

Spike smiled gently and whispered to her, “Been there, done that, got the bleedin’ tee-shirt.”

“What?”

“I’ve felt like you do luv. I’ve felt rejected, neglected and abused. The only difference is that it happ to to me somewhat later in life, well, after my life actually.”

Willow looked at him, confused. “Darla and Angelus. They treated me much the same way your parents treated you. As an afterthought, a responsibility they’d rather do without. Dru was somewhat better, but also so bonkers she didn’t know her arse from breakfast. Which left me out in the cold, like.”

Willow was shocked. He did understand her neglect. Did that mean it was possible for him to understand the rest?

The blond vampire grinned at her. “Pet, why don’t you get up and change. Have a shower. I’ll make you breakfast. Should I microwave Rice Krispies?”

Willow took a moment to realise he was teasing. “Oh you … you…” she trailed off.

Spike took one of her hands in his. “Are you kosher, pet?” He asked seriously.

“You remembered!” Willow was thrilled at the simple question. “No, not a kosher girl. But at least you asked. That was so sweet.”

“Now, go get showered and I’ll make you something to eat.”

* * * *

After the shower, Willow dressed and then entered the kitchen, to the smell of bacon frying. Spike was cooking. {Hmmm, another thing I didn’t realise he could do.} In fact, he had cooked a vast quantity of food. She looked around, seeing eggs, both scrambled and poached, tomato, sausages and fried bread. He was just finishing the bacon as he saw her. “Sorry luv, I couldn’t find any kidneys, so it’s not really a proper brekky.”

“Proper?” Willow squawked. “Who’re we inviting over? A fraternity?”

“Er, this is just for us pet. It’s just a decent English breakfast.”

“Does everyone die at forty-five over there?”

“Huh?” Was Spike’s intelligent reply.

“This stuff is loaded with cholesterol.”

“You don’t want it?” The disappointment in Spike’s voice was self-evident.

“Did I say that?” Willow grinned as she asked him. “I was just surprised. But, honestly, you can forget the kidneys. Ewwwwwwwwww.”

Spike was confused and taken aback by the redhead’s babbling. Pressing her advantage, she asked, “Why are you doing this? I was surprised to even see you here after last night. You’ve kept me moving so fast this morning, I haven’t had a chance to ask before, so give. Why did you bother to stay around someone so fucked up?”

“Willow, I love you. Why else would I be here?” Spike sounded genuinely confused.

“But, I’m horrible. I-I hurt myself, I’m a monster.”

“Red, you’re not a monster. Trust me on this. I ought to know a monster when I see one. After all, I’ve been around Angelus.”

“Maybe,” Willow agreed reluctantly, “but I’m certainly not normal.”

“Listen, lover, I know what’s happened to you. I mean pslogilogically as well as physically. I have just one question at the moment. Do you trust me, implicitly?”

Willow nodded, eyes wide at the intensity and the seriousness she heard in his voice.

“In that case, believe this. I love you Willow, the person who has been formed by her whole background. Including the ‘bad’ bits of your upbringing.” He emphasised the word ‘bad’ with finger quotes. “If you want, we can talk about these particular feelings and needs of yours later, but not yet pet, you just aren’t ready.”

The redheaded witch nodded, tears slowly trickling down both cheeks. She had never experienced anything like this before. Her parents, Oz and Tara were all non-communicative people, and to have someone spell things out, and leave no room for doubt effected her profoundly.

“Now, pet, let’s mop those tears up and then get around to eating breakfast.” Spike began to dish up a meal that Willow could barely comprehend.

“I don’t eat that much at dinner Spike! This is only breakfast!”

Spike simply smiled and said, “Eat!” There was no room for debate in the voice he used. {I’d do anything if he asked in that voice.} Willow reflected.

Willow began to eat, discovering that Spike was not only a quantity cook, but a quality cook as well. She discovered an underlying hunger that stimulated her appetite, and the more she ate, the more she wanted. Spike smiled as he saw her tucking in. {I’ll bet the little chit skips too many meals when there isn’t anyone on her back to eat. She needs someone to look after her.}

“Feeling better pet?” he asked as Willow finished. She nodded, and at the same time managed to look ashamed at the amount she had consumed. “And don’t look at me like that. If you’re starting some intensive physical training, you’re going to need an increased diet.” Willow looked up at him, and gave him a small, tentative smile.

“So, what now, oh glorious leader?” She asked mockingly.

“Well, pet; you’ve got a day to laze around in, or you can go out and catch a tan, or you can sleep, or you can start your training, or you can start my training, or we could nip upstairs and be very very naughty.”

Willow’s jaw dropped, and then she grinned. “We could. We could go into my mom’s closet and try her clothes on like when I was a little girl.”

Spike laughed. “Pet I really don’t have the legs for a frock. Just trust me on this.”

Willow joined in the laughter. {Goddess, Everything about him is right. He’ll joke with me, play with me, be with me, love me unconditionally. How the hell did I get to be so lucky? Especially when I’m such a cow.}

Spike held his hand out to her and as he took it, he raised her from the chair and led her gently upstairs. As they reached the upper landing, he looked at Willow and asked, “Your bed, or the double?”

“Ummm, errrrr, I dunno!” Willow squeaked.

“My decision then pet?” Willow nodded in agreement, too afraid to speak, in case the moment was lost. Spike led her into her own room. As he did so, he leant down to whisper to her, “Your room first, Red. Let’s make some new memories there.”

Willow looked at him shyly and nodded. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

He led her to the bed, and sitting next to her, brushed his lips over hers. As he did so, he moved in closer, beginning to truly taste her. His tongue slowly became insistent, demanding entrance to her mouth. Willow capitulated, opening her lips and mouth and drawing his tongue inside. Their tongues embraced, each probing at and exploring the other. Their lips parted, allowing the redhead to draw in some much-needed air. Spike looked at her, seeing her pupils dilated and hearing her breathing becoming ragged. He scooped Willow up and lay her on the bed. Lying next to her, he began to kiss her again, and once more he felt her respond. The need was building in Spike, and with his enhanced senses, he could tell that Willow was reacting in the same manner.

Spike broke the kiss once again and looked into Willow’s eyes. He asked a simple one-word question. “Ready?”

Willow nodded, whimpering softly as she did so.

Spike kissed her forehead, then pulled back and whispered to her, “We’ll do this right.”

He sat up grinning at her as he untied his boots. Shrugging both the boots and socks, he rocked onto his back, turning towards the motionless girl. “Sorry pet, I just can’t stand men who leave their socks on.”

Willow looked at him and giggled. “D-did you know that…” she trailed off into helpless laughter.

“Oh no, pet, don’t tell me Wolf-boy left his bloody socks on!”

Willow nodded, now helplessly laughing as she rolled from side to side on the narrow bed.

Spike looked at her, then shuddered. “That was an image I really didn’t need.” Spike then lay back with her and held her as her mirth slowly subsided.

“Why are you so good to me? Everything you do is so perfect. Even this. Most men would have been jealous that I’d mentioned a former lover.”

“I could make observations about my exceptional emotional maturity, but that wouldn’t be true luv. The simple truth here is that I have an advanced sense of the absurd.” He sighed. “That’ll teach me to hang around and snack off Dadaists.”

“You were in Paris back then?” Willow was surprised. She had not really seen Spike as the artistic type.

He grinned at her and murmured “I’ll tell you all about it later pet. We have some more important things to do now.”

So saying, he leant forward to draw her tee shirt over her head, exposing her delicate, almost alabaster skin, marred only by a plain white cotton bra. After doing so, Spike rose to his knees to draw his own black tee over his head as well, demonstrating by actions that he wouldn’t leave her vulnerable. He was aware that, whatever Willow’s proclivities, and he certainly intended to investigate all of thaterater; at present she was too fragile for anything other than the tenderest of attentions.

He lay back down, next to the tiny redheaded girl who had turned his emotions upside down and kissed her cheek softly, and then began to trail his lips, butterfly light, along the line of her jaw, from the base of her ear to her chin. Willow gasped involuntarily at the pleasure, the desire, Spike was generating. He continued, gently, lovingly and yet remorselesslynninnning the tip of his tongue up the other side of her jaw, from her chin to her earlobe. He began to suck, very softly, on the lobe, murmuring as he did so. Willow began to become entranced by the small, overtly erotic sounds, just as surely as she was already entranced by his foreplay. He eventually ceased his assault oh her ear, seemingly months later, and began to kiss down the side of her neck, occasionally brushing against her carotid and jugular with blunt teeth, teasing her with what could be.

As he continued down her neck, he reached her collarbone, and simultaneously slid a hand under her back to unhook her bra. She arched to allow him unfettered access to the clip, and moaned with passion as he eased the offending garment off.

Spike looked down at her small, but exquisitely shaped breasts. The pale pink nipples already partially erect. He leant down to kiss the upper curve of her left breast, and then flickered his tongue across her pectoral; it danced over her flesh as her arousal increased. Spike could smell her arousal, and Willow felt the slowly growing heat in her loins.

“Please, faster.” She moaned semi-coherently. The pulses and urges of her desire were beginning to play havoc with her reasoning, and she felt as though she were sinking into a pit of need and desire, controlled by her most basic instincts.

Spike chuckled. It was a low deep sound, coming from the back of the throat, and as he did so, his mouth slipped over her nipple, sucking it in. His lips suckled the hard nub as his tongue began a slow, erotically cruel laving with his tongue. Willow began to sink into the sensations, becoming one with her feelings and leaving reason far behind.

Spike moved again, releasing Willow’s now rock solid breast. As he did so, she whimpered with loss and frustrated desire.

The blond vampire slid down the bed and hooked his fingers into the waistbands of both her jeans and panties. Unbuttoning and unzipping the jeans, he slid both down, her hips automatically arching up to assist him as he did so.

Spike moaned reverently as he saw Willow naked for the first time. She was a paean in red and cream. Even the thick mass of darker curls at her sex were like an exclamation point, a completion of a visual poem.

He leant forward again, brushing his lips over her ribcage, tasting her flesh. Underexposed, compared to her face, it was softer and somehow sweeter. It was intoxicating. As he did so, Willow’s cries and moans became a continuous chant of desire, lust and need.

He continued his torturously slow way down over her stomach, getting closer and closer to her core. Her scent almost overwhelmed him, and he needed to concentrate to avoid reacting too quickly. This was about her. About Willow reclaiming her life. About making memories worth keeping in this room.

He lowered one hand to unfasten his jeans as the other continued to caress Willow’s thigh, his lips never leaving her abdomen. He continues to kiss down further, through her pubic patch, to her accompanying gasps. His tongue began to dance again, teasing the top of her thighs. Willow felt them part of their own accord. She was in sensory overload.

Spike, now naked, slid even further down the bfeelfeeling the bedspread rubbing against his erect cock. His head slid easily between her open thighs. He could feel the warmth radiating from her arousal as he leant forward and gently kissed her clit.

Willow squealed. The feeling was amazing, and slightly shocking. She knew vampires were cold, but the effect was noticeable and … interesting. “My Lady! Spike, that feels … oohhhhhhhh.”

Spike chuckled again as he set to his task of reducing the passionate redhead to total incoherency. His tongue and fingers moved ceaselessly, teasing and arousing her. They danced from clit, to lips, to the top of her thighs and back in a random pattern, He moved continually, bringing Willow closer and closer to release. Willow’s wetness now began to slick the top of her thighs and her uncoordinated hands reached down in hopeless attempts to grasp his hair, to hold him and force him to bring her to orgasm.

Spike sensed that she was ready, on the verge of release. He moved up, manoeuvering his hips between hers. He ran the head of his cock over her wet and welcoming lips, continuing to tease her.

“Please! Now!” Willow implored him.

Spike grinned as he suddenly thrust deep inside her, feeling her heat open to allow him access. “Godddddddd!” The groan made by Spike was long, drawn out and heartfelt. He had never felt anything quite like it. The mortal warmth, the wetness, the reciprocated desire and need were all familiar to him, but the unutterable rightness was new and different.

His movements were strangely gentle for him. Spike’s thrusts were tempered by his control of his demon. He knew that releasing the demon at this point would only scare the beautiful woman he was making love with.

Willow closed in on the release that Spike had so carefully avoided allowing her. She reached round to grasp his buttocks and pull him closer. She needed to cum. Now! She ground her pelvis up, trying to abrade her clit against his pubic hairs, desperate for the stimulation.

As Willow drove her hips up to meet him, Spike thrust deep into her, feeling the tip of his cock scraping the sponginess of her cervix. That, and Willow’s incohate cries, drove him over the edge, just as she peaked. Their mutual orgasm created a blend of Willow’s overheated fluids, and Spike’s cold seed; a combinn whn which neither had felt before. The raw eroticism stunned them both even further, and they collapsed, exhausted into one another’s arms.