Breaking a Slayer

Breaking a Slayer: Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Spoilers/Ships: This is AU. Buffy/Spike/Angel.

Distribution: Sure, just let me know.

Feedback: Is always nice.

Rating: NC-17.



Buffy had no idea how to react to Angel and Spike's seeming acceptance of her inexperience and trepidation regarding sharing a bed with the two of them. On the one hand, they were all she'd ever wanted. Angel was everything to her…her heart, her soul, her mind were his for the taking and he was her first and ever-important lover. No one could match his gentle acceptance of her vulnerability. His sensitive caresses, his experienced, yet tender touch, were all that she craved and needed in this world. He was her life, her love, her soul incarnate.

But then there was Spike. Buffy still couldn't accept how she felt about Spike. He was a vampire. Evil, remorseless, dangerous and deadly, Spike was everything she'd been taught to hate and destroy by not one, but *three* Watchers. Yet, Buffy was drawn to Spike like a moth to a flame. He was, unaccountably, life in unlife. He took a decadent pleasure in every tactile experience unlife could impart. He was alive in a way that Angel was not…sinfully relishing every possible taste or hunger. Spike was wanton and unashamed of his rutting delight in the pleasures of the body. Some innate, primeval aspect of Buffy was drawn to that decadent worship of the now…that irreverent relish of the flesh with no heed of the future, no concept of repercussions.

Could she balance this fight within her very soul? She longed for Angel…her mate, her true love….but a base and long-denied portion of her hungered for Spike as the physical representation of the pleasures of the flesh that she screamed to express somehow, someway. Buffy was at war with herself, and until she could reconcile the two aspects of the Slayer, she was doomed to unending inward torment that she could not acknowledge or express.

Buffy lurched away from her lovers, shrinking from their touches as if she were unclean. She knew herself unworthy of such glory…undeserving of two such beautiful mates. Why they even wanted her, she didn't understand. Surely they could see how sullied she was, how stupid she felt. Angelus had told her what a bad lay she was, and somewhere deep inside, Buffy knew him to be right. Angel might be too kind…too gentle to admit it, but if she ever slept with Spike, Buffy knew that he would voice her multitude of inadequacies with fervent and unrelenting verbiage. The far-too-recent rape simply confirmed her own inadequacy. She was the Slayer, yet she'd been unable to protect herself from the most basic of violations a woman could suffer. She was, she knew deep within, dirty…an inadequate, ugly failure…no matter how her lovers might deny it on the surface.

"I'm sorry….I can't do this….not now…it's too soon….I'm sorry, I'm sorry, god, I'm so sorry….I'm going to go hunt now, please just let me go….I need to do this on my own." She babbled as she drew on her clothes, staring at her half-clad lovers as they looked at her in shock and dawning understanding that she just couldn't handle this intimacy right now.

Angel climbed from the bed, standing acceptingly before his love. "Buffy, it's all right. Just go out and slay for a while. We can wait until you're ready to deal with this…please, don't worry." His voice trailed off as he wondered, not for the first time, whether she could ever heal from the wrongs done her the night that Faith took her body. He wished with all his heart that he'd been more accepting of her need, more understanding of the pain and suffering that she'd been through when she came to him in LA. Instead he had condemned her and in doing so, had denied her the solace that was her right as his soulmate.

Spike's need of the Slayer was much more primal, and thus, more curt. "Slayer, we can wait. God knows, I've been waiting since I met you. I'd wait a mortal lifetime for the chance to shag a slayer." He grinned at her, unrepentantly, confident in his certainty that eventually she'd come to him of her own accord.

Buffy winced from their too-intimate regard, and finished fastening her clothes, then hurried out of her bedroom, grabbing weapweapons quickly and striving to be anywhere but there, where her emotions, her very heart, were on display and vulnerable.

Angel growled in unassuaged lust, his gaze turning golden once more as he glared at his childe. Spike was equally lustful and their uninhibited need for one another bloomed anew when the master's soulmate removed herself from the equation.

Spike, never the agreeable childe, leapt upon his Sire, wanting to be the aggressor this time, though knowing that Angelus was damned unlikely to allow *that* to happen.

True to form, his Sire rolled Spike violently underneath him, tearing at his willing mouth with savage kisses until they were both bleeding from the twinned assaults of fangs upon lips and tongue. Angel tongued their dripping blood from his childe's mouth, reveling in the glorious taste of their decadent sustenance.

Spike groaned beneath him, sparking a whole new set of longings in his Sire. Quickly, Angel stripped the remaining clothes from their supple ivory bodies and turned to his childe with violent abandon. Angel slammed Spike over, forcing him face-down into the cotton sheets of Buffy's bed. He caressed his childe possessively, running large hands over Spike's tight, muscular body. Angel reveled in the beauty and violent grace of his favored childe, delighting in the savage power held in check just below the surface…the awesome potential that Spike himself hadn't fully realized. Angelus had been an exacting and dominant master, and with Spike, Angel could acknowledge those traits within himself without shame.

Angel growled into Spike's ear, "So, Will, how do you want it tonight? Should I even give you a choice, Childe of mine?" He tongued Spike's ear, teasing moans of pleasure from his recalcitrant Childe before drifting lower to his tantalizing jugular.

Spike was this close to just capitulating to anything at all that Angelus…no Angel…wanted. Being taken by his Sire was intrinsically satisfying to any childe, and Spike, though a master vampire in his own right, was not immune to the seduction of the Sire-bond. Still, with predictable stubbornness, he struggled.

"Fuck off, you pansy. It's the Slayer you want, you Pouf…not me. Go find a blonde-bombshell to boff," he growled snarkily.

Angel just laughed and replied, "But Will…I have!" then latched onto his childe's neck and thrust rampant fangs into Spike's white neck with brutal relish. Angel sucked voraciously at his convulsing childe's blood, rolling every drop across his tongue and savoring the violent images imparted with every tantalizing taste. He'd never told Spike, but he was, by far, the sweetest childe Angel had ever made. His blood was nectar for his Sire's lascivious tongue. Angel could never…ever…get enough.

Spike moaned under Angel's dominant grasp, writhing in anguished ecstasy as his Sire sucked him. Spike wasn't a sub, at least not with anyone but Angelus. His Sire brought out aspects of his character that Spike had long tried to suppress. It was wrong for a vampire, any vampire, to need anyone, even a sire, this much. So Spike denied the connection, no matter how desperately it tugged at him…until he was once again under his Sire. With no recourse, no escape from Angel's powerful grasp, Spike could surrender…however unwillingly…to the demands of his own nature and that of his Sire.

"Gods and monsters, Sire….please…." Spike groaned as Angel sucked at his muscled throat, hands still grasping his childe's wrists and forcing them to the bed as his hips ground brutally into Spike's ass.

Angel growled, totally consumed by lust. Buffy was gone. She wouldn't be shocked by his need for his Childe, or repulsed by the means with which he satisfied his longings. He unleashed himself upon Spike with no restraint, glad, for once, that his Childe was vampire and thus immune to the destructive power of his own desires.

Angel released Spike's right hand and found his own cock, turgid and aching with desperate, lustful need. He slashed his own wrist until blood welled from the cut to coat his large hand. However bad a lubricant, with its nearly instant clotting and slightly gritty texture, blood would do for now when he had no patience to find something better. Besides, Spike *enjoyed* a little pain…. Angel coated his cool, white cock with the crimson liquid, then teased Spike's asth eth experienced fingers until he moaned beneath him.

No patience for further ado, Angel entered Spike with one long thrust, stretching his Childe's tight ass with his rampant cock. His right wrist was healed again and Angel reached around to grasp Spike's hard dick and pull at it roughly in time with his own thrusts. Spike moaned enticingly as Angel ground into him…unwilling to acknowledge how satisfying this was to his vampiric sensibilities, but reveling in the violent pleasure nonetheless.

Angel ground himself into Spike faster, rolling his hips to stimulate every portion of his Childe's tight, muscular ass. Spike began to pant unnecessarily, rocking his hips back to meet Angel's thrusts as passion took over any cognitive function left. He moaned helplessly under his powerful Sire and begged for mercy and thrust into Angel's skilled hand, now coated with Spike's own pre-cum.

"Please, Sire. Please let me cum. Please…Angel." The sound of his name on Spike's lips drove Angel over the edge and he battered Spike's ass with unrelenting passion.

There were aspects of his own character that he could never display to Buffy (he thought). She was all that was pure…sunshine and vanilla in his desperate and dark existence. How could he ever disclose his need to inflict pain upon this childe of his (or upon his mate…no he would never allow her to know that filthy need of his). Darla had reveled in his sadomasochistic urges, but he would never allow Buffy to know that dark and dangerous side of his character. For her, he would suppress everything vile and twisted about himself.

But Spike; Spike craved this part…any part…of his Sire. Spike let Angel unleash the terrible urges deep within himself until finally he could find peace and tranquility. Angel caressed his childe with abandon, running strong, desperate hands up and down his lithe, powerful body teasingly before returning to his cock.

Angel bit down again into Spike's ivory throat, fangs aching to possess that perfect sculpted male beauty. Spike came in desperate spurts as he felt Angel drink deep of him, and Angel came in turn from the taste of Spike's powerful blood.

They collapsed onto Buffy's bed, spent and satiated, for the moment at least. Angel reveled in the feeling of Spike's taut body beneath him, running one large hand up and down his Childe's muscular back with possessive care.

Spike allowed himself to arch into Angel's touch for a moment before he growled and elbowed his Sire off of him, reasserting his own Master-status. "Get off, you Pouf. Satan's balls, have you gained weight from all that pig's blood?" Spike could never admit the yearning within himself for Angel's skilled caresses, it acknowledged too much power for a dominant master-vamp to show. No, Angel's broad muscles and powerful frame could only be appreciated silently, Spike would never tell him how desirable he looked and felt. At least, not with words.

Angel just sighed and rolled away from Spike, pulling on his own pants and rising from his mate's rumpled bed. "I suppose we should change the sheets…Buffy is making great progress but she'd probably 'wig' over this much 'sharing,'" he chuckled, balling up the sheets and tossing them to the wall before stalking gracefully to the armoire to get new ones.

Spike growled, pulling on his own jeans. "Don't much care what the Slayer thinks about us…you pansy. I'm going for a hunt…gotta be something out there to kill tonight…" his voice trailed off before Angel forced him to admit that he was going to check on Buffy.

Angel looked at him gratefully, knowing what his Childe had left unsaid. "Be careful, Spike. We need you." Angel didn't mind acknowledging what was left unspoken between them all. They were together, however fragile and tenuous the bonds betwixt them.

Spike nodded wordlessly and strode from the room, unwilling to admit what he knew. He was well and truly snared between his Sire and the Slayer. Satan help him…what a fate for a vampire. And the worst part was, he couldn’t even say he'd ever complain.

To be continued…