To Sin--Divine

In an attempt to combat a severe case of writer's block the lovely
Mefiant set me a challenge to write a short fic… well as is typical,
the muse who would not previously be tempted, cajoled, bribed or
threatened into working decided he liked this challenge… so my short
fic became a rather long (16 page) short fic. Lol. (what do you
wanna bet he still won't work on the updates I sooo need to get
done?) Details of the challenge posted at the end so as not to spoil
any surprises.

Definate NC17 rating.
Pairing Spuffy
Season 2
Disclaimer... once again, Joss owns them, lock, stock and barrel.
All previous vamp-sitting offers are still in place though…please!!!

Thanx to my wonderful beta Amy B for her work on this, her
encouragement and her infinite patience. Not to mention 2 am
rendezvous for five minute chats and progress reports all thanks to
my highly obnoxious computer which has refused top stay on for much
more than five minutes at a time for the last week.

Huge thanx also to Q… without the loan of her laptop I would be no
further along than the first paragraph.

To Sin—divine!
By Always_jbj

Oh God! She never knew her head could hurt so much.

Buffy opened her eyes and, instantly regretting the action, squeezed
them tightly shut in a futile defence against the sun streaming
through her window. Her head alternated between pounding and
spinning, and the heat that came streaming through the window along
with the blinding light was rapidly increasing her already
overpowering nausea.

Clasping her hand to her mouth, Buffy bolted for the bathroom, only
just reaching her destination before emptying the contents of her
stomach. Finally, her stomach completely void and the muscles in her
throat and abdomen aching from the strain of dry-retching, Buffy
sank slowly to the floor; she curled in on herself, arms wrapped
defensively around her knees as she rested her head on the cool hard
surface of the tiles and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

****

Hours later, Buffy awakened, stiff and sore from her unusual choice
of sleeping venues. She raised her head tentatively, steeling
herself for the blinding pain and subsequent nausea that this
morning's rousing had brought on. A dull thud in her head and an
empty ache in her stomach were all that greeted the movement,
though, and she slowly uncurled, carefully stretching each tortured
muscle. Only then did she realise that she was naked. Completely,
absolutely devoid of clothes!

She tried to remember what had happened the previous night. How
could she have gone to bed without any clothes on? Try as she might,
Buffy could not remember anything after going to the Bronze with her
friends; she was supposed to meet Angel there, and had been looking
forward to seeing him. Beyond that, her mind was a blank. And what
was wrong with her? She didn't get sick. Not ever! And this felt
awful—the worst she could remember ever feeling.

Slowly and carefully—her legs trembling slightly and her head
shooting occasional warning stabs of pain that told her in no
uncertain terms she would pay dearly if she moved too quickly—Buffy
eased herself to her feet. She turned the taps on and climbed into
the tub, sighing gratefully as the hot water rained down on her
aching head. She stood under the water until it started to go cold,
then made her way to her room to dry and quickly pull on some
clothes. Checking her clock, she saw that she had slept most of the
day away and that her mom would be home from the gallery soon. She
needed to speak to Willow before her mom got home.

The shower had done much to ease the throbbing pain in her head and
the stiff ache in her muscles. She sat down on her bed and grabbed
the phone, quickly dialling Will's number and waiting for her friend
to pick up.

The front door opened as Buffy was replacing the phone on its
cradle; Willow hadn't been a lot of help. Apparently they had
waited, but Angel had not shown up. Xander and Willow had left and
tried to convince her to go with them, but she had wanted to give
Angel a little more time so she had stayed behind.

Buffy went downstairs. Her mom was in the kitchen unpacking some
groceries she had bought on her way home from work.

"Hi, honey." Joyce looked up as Buffy entered the room. She squinted
worriedly, her brow creasing slightly with concern as she took in
her daughter's strained look and pallid features. "You look
terrible. Are you coming down with something?" Her hand immediately
placed itself across Buffy's forehead, searching for any trace of
fever.

"Gee, thanks, Mom! Just what a girl wants to hear," Buffy
pouted. "But yeah, I guess I might be coming down with something. My
head hurts and my stomach feels all funky."

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Buffy screwed up her face in disgust at the very thought of
food. "Nah, I think I might just go back to bed."

"Ok, honey. Get some sleep, and hopefully you'll feel better in the
morning."

****

Buffy was pulled slowly from her dreams by the most delicious
sensation. Soft lips ran trails down her neck and along her
collarbone before dipping down to trace icy fire between her
breasts. She moaned softly, eyes still closed against the pleasure,
and shifted slightly to accommodate the lean body that rested
lightly on top of her. As the figure settled comfortably between her
legs, a nimble tongue and teeth quickly undid the buttons holding
her top closed. Her eyes opened with a gasp of pleasure as that
amazing mouth latched on to one eager nipple, suckling gently and
nipping lightly to draw further hungry moans and whimpers from her
before soothing once more with gentle licks. Buffy's pleasure-
soaked brain was unable to comprehend anything beyond the incredible
sensations the lips, tongue and teeth currently lavishing her body
were eliciting; her body was writhing in ecstasy from the
unfamiliar, but oh so welcome, touches.

She fought through the fog of pleasure-induced delirium, finally
registering the fact that she was actually awake and this wasn't
just some incredibly realistic dream.

Spike? How could Spike be here—in her bedroom? And, oh God, how
could he be making her feel the things she was feeling? She summoned
every ounce of self-control she possessed and forced herself to
scoot backwards, away from the mouth that was delivering these
intensely exquisite sensations that shot through her body and left
her weak with longing.

"Spike? What are you doing here? How?" She crossed her arms quickly
in front of her, pulling the pyjama top closed in the process. Her
eyes widened in panic when the last vestiges of lust swept away,
leaving her with the knowledge that `the Slayer of Slayers' was
somehow here, in her bedroom—in her house! Buffy tried to stay calm,
tried not to let the rising panic take over, and tried also not to
think about the things his mouth had been doing to her when she
woke. A deep throaty chuckle brought her quickly back to the
present, and more specifically to the vampire who remained settled
comfortably between her legs looking like he had no intentions
whatsoever of leaving his resting place anytime soon.

"Thought the `what' was pretty obvious, Slayer. As for the how, have
an invite, now don't I? Can come in here whenever I want now, pet."
A hungry smile lit his face, and his eyes burned with lust as he ran
them slowly over her barely hidden body. He had both smelled her
body's reaction to his ministrations and felt the rapid rise in her
heartbeat that told him in no uncertain terms that his attentions
were not entirely unwelcome.

"An invite? How?" Buffy's panic rose another notch. Had her Mom let
Spike in the house, and if so, why were they still alive? Why hadn't
he killed them in their sleep? Then a fresh thought stabbed cold
fear to her heart. Her mom—she could be dead! Spike could have
already drained her mom, and then come in here to toy with her
before claiming the life of his third slayer.

He chuckled again. This was going to be even more fun than he had
thought. The bint didn't remember a thing, and he was going to get a
great deal of pleasure out of enlightening her.

"Well, luv, if I remember correctly, the invite occurred somewhere
between you stickin' your pretty little tongue halfway down my
throat and you tryin' to rip my clothes off and have your wicked way
with me. Couldn't get enough of running your hands over my hot
little body, Slayer. Quite the little vixen, aren't you, luv?"

"What?" Buffy's voice rose indignantly. "I don't know what sort of
game you're playing, Spike, but don't try…"

"How'd you feel when you woke up, luv? How was the head? An' maybe
you felt a little under the weather? Bit not so right in the
stomach?"

"Oh my god! What did you do to me?"

"Me?" he scoffed. "Don't go blaming me for this! `S all your own
doin', so if you're lookin' to lay blame, Slayer, look no bloody
further than your own dainty little feet." He ducked his head and
gently nibbled on the warm golden stomach that now rested beneath
his mouth, his tongue flicking out to trace slow teasing circles
before it plunged into her belly-button to elicit an involuntary
moan of pleasure from her. Spike smiled knowingly against her skin.
She wanted him, every demon-enhanced sense he owned told him so—
hell, they were practically screaming it at him.

Once more Buffy fought against the pleasure of Spike's agile tongue
to remind herself that she was the slayer and this creature in her
bed was an evil master vampire who took great delight and pride in
killing her kind.

"No. Stop!" Buffy squirmed under him, pushing at his head to make
him stop. When he raised his head to look at her, her breath caught.
Blue eyes sparkling with lust and humour peered up at her out of his
stunningly beautiful face. Why had she never noticed before how
gorgeous Spike was? Well, that wasn't entirely true, she reluctantly
admitted. She had noticed that first night in the Bronze, but then
there had been the whole big distracty thing with the vampire attack
and the gorgeous blonde newcomer turning out to be a vampire himself—
and a kills-slayers-for-a-hobby type of vampire to boot.

"Ok, you say you didn't do anything to me. So how is it you know
what was wrong with me when I woke up, then, Mr Smartypants?"

"'s common knowledge what the symptoms of a hangover are, Slayer.
An' I'm wagerin' you had one helluva hangover goin' on, what with
the state you were in last night." He dropped his chin and rested it
lightly on her abdomen, trying to fight the smile that tugged at the
corners of his mouth as he looked up at her shocked face.

"What?! How?" She glared at the vampire, positive that somehow this
was his fault entirely.

"Well, I would be inclined to say in the usual manner, luv—you
lifted a few too many glasses an' applied them to that pretty little
mouth of yours. As for the actual reason behind your sudden fall
from your bloody platform of virtue, I wouldn't have a clue, an' I
don't give a toss anyway. Found you staggerin' through an alley way
outta your usual jurisdiction, singing some god-awful crap at the
top of your lungs an' smellin' none too pleasant too, I might add."

"But… I… How?"

"Thought I just established that I have no bleedin' idea!" he
answered derisively, his scarred eyebrow raised as he smirked at the
slayer's obvious discomfort. She was so damned cute.

Buffy stared at him, indignation flaring. She was about to tell him
that there was no way she would have gotten drunk when a quick flash
came to her of the inside of Willie's bar, an all-but-empty pitcher
of beer on the table in front of her and one terrified weasel of a
bartender asking if there was anything more he could get for her
because it was just about closing time.

"I… I think I was looking for Angel," she stammered. "I went to
Willie's."

"Right. Cause that's exactly where you're gonna find the poof.
Hangin' out with all his demon mates." Sarcasm dripped from Spike's
tongue, his eyes narrowing angrily at the mention of his despised
grandsire's name. What the hell did the chit see in the soddin'
brooding bastard anyway? He'd make her forget she'd ever heard of
bloody Angelus. By the time this night was over, he intended to hear
the Slayer scream; whether from ecstasy or agony, he didn't much
care—although his painfully hard cock was definitely leaning towards
the ecstasy side of the equation.

"He was supposed to meet me at the Bronze, and he didn't show up,"
she confided quietly. "I thought maybe Willie might know where he'd
be. Or that maybe he might be there. Oh, I don't know what I was
thinking… that I'd been stood up… that I wasn't good enough… "

"That you weren't good enough?" Spike snorted. "He's the one who's
not bloody good enough for you, pet. You could do so much better."

"Yeah? Like who? You, maybe?" she asked, bitter resignation
colouring her tones.

"Yeah, like me! An' why bloody not? `m a fine catch I am."

"Spike, you kill slayers." Buffy could have kicked herself the
second the words were out of her mouth. Yeah, way to go, Buffy.
Remind the evil undead bloodsucker that has you pinned to the bed
that he kills your kind. Great survival instincts!

"Yeah? Well, I didn't kill you last night, now did I? Not that there
woulda been a lot of challenge in it. What with you so bloody drunk
you could hardly stand."

"So, what—you just brought me home?" Buffy questioned,
disbelievingly. "Without feeling the need to gnaw on my neck while
you had the chance?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what I did. Why the hell would I want to fight
you in that condition? Where's the bloody glory in defeating a
paralytic slayer? Besides, you were all over me like a bleedin' rash—
what was I s'posed to do? Couldn't have pried your tongue out of my
mouth long enough to bite you, had I even wanted to."

"You're lying! There is no way. Nuh uh." Buffy shook her head
vehemently, despite the nagging in the back of her mind that told
her just how full of it she was, that of course she would love to
get her lips on the sexy piece of vampire flesh currently resting in
oh-so-tempting a position and looking up at her with those
unbelievably beautiful blue eyes. There was no doubting he was evil—
something that tempting just had to be evil!

"That's right, pet. I'm lyin'. That's how come I'm sitting here
right now, invited into the slayer's holy bloody sanctum. An' why I
know for a fact that you went to bed starkers last night, pet; was a
right pretty little striptease you did, too, I might add. Hardest
thing I've ever done, getting outta here with all my clothes
intact." His eyes sparkled in recollection, and he felt himself
harden further.

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, to claim he was lying, when she
was assailed by the vision of Spike tucking her carefully into bed
while trying to avoid her eagerly grasping hands. She remembered his
parting words as he ducked out her window, blowing her a kiss before
fleeing into the safety of night. "Tomorrow, pet. When you're in
your right mind. You still want me then, an' I'm all yours, luv."

She felt the colour burning her cheeks as she ducked her head in
shame at her behaviour. She remembered now, well bits and pieces
anyway, not how she had ended up in the alley… but she remembered
Spike walking her home, making sure she was safe and trying to fend
off her advances at the same time. She remembered stripping and
trying to rip the vampire's clothes from his body after inviting him
in to her room, as he'd had to carry her up the tree over his
shoulder to prevent her falling and killing herself as she snuck
back in.

"Oh, God. What did I do? You must think I'm such a …"

"No. Shh. Nothing of the sort, luv. C'mere." He moved up her body,
wrapping her in his arms and flipping them so he lay on his back,
the slayer's head resting on his chest as he stroked her hair
soothingly. "I think you had a few too many drinks, an' you were
lonely, `s all, pet. Trust me, I know how that feels," he sighed,
revealing more than he had meant to in his inexplicable urge to
comfort the girl in his arms.

"But you love Drusilla. I know you do." Buffy turned her sad green
eyes on the vampire; she longed for the kind of love she had seen
shine in this undead creature's eyes as he gazed at his dark
princess.

"Yeah, pet. I do. Doesn't mean the feelin's reciprocated, though.
The only place in Dru's heart has a fuckin' big `RESERVED' sign on
it for her bleedin' ponce of a daddy. Never mind that yours truly's
the one has taken care of her, an' loved her, an' looked out for her
for the last bloody century; that counts for shit as far as she's
concerned. All I ever hear from her is how her daddy will be coming
home to her soon, the stars or Miss bloody Edith, or some other such
rot, told her so." Spike's voice rang with sadness and hurt and
betrayal so deep it made Buffy's heart ache for him; she tightened
her arms around his strong body and snuggled a little deeper into
his chest, offering silent comfort for the pain he had
unintentionally disclosed.

They stayed like that for some time, each giving comfort to the
other as they cuddled quietly, stroking each other softly. Spike's
fingers ran rhythmically through her hair, and Buffy's hand gently
stroked the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. In time, their
touches grew less comforting and more arousing; Spike's other hand
came up to inch below her still unbuttoned top, easing the shirt
open to once again reveal her breasts for his inspection. He gently
cupped one soft mound, flicking his thumb across her nipple and
receiving a startled gasp of pleasure as his reward. He felt his
cock harden once more, from both her pleasurable reaction and the
hot little hands wandering ever closer across the dips and ridges of
his stomach.

He moaned hungrily and pulled her up to him, his head dipping to
plant a searing kiss on her welcoming lips. His tongue sought and
gained access, tangling lightly with hers as his fingers continued
their ministrations to her now-hardened nipple, gently twisting and
tweaking before rolling the hungry little bud firmly between thumb
and forefinger only to tweak once more. He caught her cries and
moans with his mouth, each new whimper of longing and delight
bringing new levels of urgency to his painfully hard cock. He
shifted slightly to try to ease the pressure and moaned as the
sudden move caused her hand to brush against his aching erection,
making it jump painfully against the restrictive denim and causing
her to squeak with fright.

"Spike. No. Stop. Please." She breathed urgently into his mouth as
she tried to shuffle away from him, but this time his arms tightened
around her even as he complied with her wishes, removing his hand
from her aching nipple and reluctantly breaking off the mind-numbing
kiss.

"Slayer, just stake me, will you, and stop bloody torturing me like
this," he growled in frustration.

"Spike. This is wrong. We shouldn't. I mean... we're enemies… you
hate me…"

"Don't bloody hate you. What gave you that idea?'

"Oh, let me see… You wanting to kill me might have had something to
do with it."

"Wanting to kill you has nothing to do with hating you, pet. Don't
hate you at all. Killing Slayers is just what I do. `s nothing
personal." He sighed deeply in an attempt to calm his frustration,
and to gain a moment to think of what to say to quieten her fears
and ultimately lead things back to where they had been before she
had once more interrupted the beginnings of what had the potential
to be a perfectly good shag. "Look at me, Slayer." He tilted her
chin up so she looked him in the eye. "I give you my word—I will
never enter this house to harm anyone. If you want to get your
watcher over here to uninvite me, you can go ahead. But there is no
need, luv. I will never harm anyone inside this house."

Buffy stared at him for a while. His eyes never wavered and, despite
every instinct screaming at her that she could not take the word of
a vampire, she knew she could believe him, knew that if Spike gave
her his word he would keep it. She nodded slowly, never losing eye
contact with him. "I believe you."

"Good." He smirked at her. "Course, having said that, if I see you
out on the streets in fit enough condition to fight, I won't
hesitate to kill you." With that he leaned down and once more
captured her mouth in a bone-melting kiss. When he finally allowed
her up for air, he continued on. "Just cause we're enemies doesn't
mean we can't have a little," he looked her up and down before his
gaze came to rest on her face, lust burning obviously in his
eyes, "fun." His eyes drifted back down from where seconds ago they
had searched her own to gaze hungrily at her still-exposed breasts.
He flipped them over, settling her comfortably on the bed and
regaining his previous resting place between her legs. Licking his
lips in anticipation, he leaned in slowly to capture a taut pink
nipple gently between his teeth, his tongue flicking out to tease as
his teeth slowly increased the pressure.

Spike lavished attention on her breasts with tongue and teeth,
sometimes suckling gently, sometimes nipping harshly to elicit a
sharp gasp of need and a fresh flood of arousal before gently
soothing once more, licking and suckling at the abused flesh. While
his mouth alternated from one breast to the other, his hands roamed
across her body, stroking and teasing until Buffy was whimpering and
moaning helplessly beneath the vampire's deliciously cruel assault.

The tantalising scent of the slayer's arousal sent waves of longing
and need coursing through his body. He forced down the urge to rip
her clothes off and bury himself to the hilt inside of her. The
slayer was young, and he suspected still a virgin; it would be worth
the effort and the control it took for him to do this properly. He
found himself wanting to teach her the joys and pleasures that two
people could find in each other, for some reason he couldn't quite
understand, he wanted this to be memorable for her for all the right
reasons. Whether this wish stemmed from the tenderness that the
girl seemed to evoke in him despite his best efforts to deny it, or
from a certain manly pride in knowing that all who came after would
be compared (and he believed unfavourably) to him, he was unsure;
neither did he care.

Moving almost regretfully away from the breasts he had lavished so
much care and attention on, he worked slowly down the slayer's body,
kissing and nipping along the way, his tongue tracing trails of icy
fire across her abdomen until once more unerringly finding the way
and dipping into her belly button. The girl's moans increased in
volume, and her hips lifted involuntarily from the bed, urging him
lower; despite her silent pleas, he took his time, sucking and
licking her golden skin, revelling in the feel of her strong lithe
muscles below the silky soft surface. His hands continued to wander
over her body, fingers lightly teasing as they danced across her,
seeking out and attacking her most responsive regions. One hand took
over the work in which his mouth had previously been employed,
teasing her rosy nipples to further tautness; each moan and whimper
from the slayer's lips, each gasp of air or urgent thrash of her
body as it experienced for the first time the delight of a lover's
competent touch, urged him on to greater levels of blissful torture
and his own aching need was temporarily ignored, though not
forgotten.

He moved lower down her body with agonising slowness; without
removing her satin pyjama pants, he kissed and nipped his way down
one thigh. Purposefully avoiding her centre, he worked his way down
her leg, kissing and nuzzling the delicate curves and licking light
trails of fire across the bare skin below her knee. When he reached
her foot, his strong hands lightly massaged it before he nipped and
licked at the sole, causing tremors of want to course through her;
grinning with self-satisfaction, he gently sucked on her instep once
more, eliciting further tremors of ecstasy caused by the almost
painfully delicious sensations. He swiftly moved to the other foot
and forced it to endure the same exquisite ordeal as its
counterpart, his blunt human teeth employed on the sole of her foot
just hard enough to cross the line between ticklish and sensual.

After working his way up this leg, having treated it in the same
manner as the first, he ran kisses gently along her hip bone; her
mewling cries increased in both need and volume as he continued to
avoid the aching heat at the junction of her thighs. His hands,
finding themselves once again within reach, returned to their
assault on her exquisitely tender nipples.

Buffy had never imagined such sensations could exist. Spike was
carrying her body to levels of bliss she had never dreamed possible,
and all semblance of coherent thought had ceased moments after his
mouth had descended upon her breasts. The desperate ache building
inside of her, the need for something more, something beyond her
grasp and yet so close within reach had her crying and whimpering
unashamedly. Spike's every touch drove her to greater depths of
need, and she knew she would do anything in order to find the
completion her body was screaming for. Her hips reached longingly
towards him as he neared; she whimpered with loss as his talented
lips ignored her pleadings and moved away from the throbbing bundle
of nerves desperate for his touch, only to moan with pleasure as he
traced nips and kisses along her hip bone, increasing her need
further with each contact of his mouth against her hungry body. Her
hands dropped to his head and her fingers twined in his hair,
freeing the soft white curls he fought so hard to control. She tried
helplessly to push him lower, to encourage his cool mouth to where
her clitoris ached and throbbed in urgent need. He stubbornly
refused to move, his only answer to her silent plea being to suck
harder still on the skin stretched tautly over her hipbone, gently
pulling her blood to the surface within tantalising reach of his
questing tongue; desperately, she gave her plea breath and whispered
beseechingly, "Spike, please."

At her spoken request, he moved swiftly to envelope her satin-
covered pussy in hungry kisses, licking and suckling through the
fine material. Her hips rocked against his face, pressing against
him in an unconscious effort to increase the pressure and drive
herself closer to the release he had brought her so near and yet
refused her.

Grasping the waistband of her pants, he quickly pulled the obstacle
down her slim hips and off. He resettled himself once more, but as
he lowered his head to finally savour the taste of the slayer's
juices direct from the source his eye was caught by a splash of
colour. Using his hands to still her thrashing, he pinned her
trembling thigh to the bed and bent to examine that which had
distracted him from the task at hand. On the inside of the slayer's
finely muscled thigh, only a fraction of an inch from the delights
he was about to savour, was a small tattoo; it was clearly recent,
although courtesy of her slayer enhanced healing powers well healed,
and depicted a small heart pierced by what was unmistakably a
railroad spike. A surge of pride swelled in him, followed rapidly by
a burning jealous rage when he realised that someone, most likely a
man, had been in the position to place the little pretty there in
the first place.

Before he could control himself, his fangs surged forth and sank
deeply into the tender flesh, placing his mark on her body right
next to the symbolic one she had willingly placed there herself; the
two combined to mark her as indelibly his. He took long deep pulls
on the powerful slayer's blood that flooded his mouth, and her moans
increased to a new level as she cried her need; her fingers
tightened painfully in his now loosened curls as she bucked beneath
him in an effort to regain the pleasurable sensations his mouth had
been causing, while at the same time never wanting him to stop
drinking deeply of her blood. She had no idea what had inspired him
to bite her, no comprehension of the reason he had growled so
possessively before sinking his fangs deep into her flesh; all she
knew was that she never wanted him to stop, would gladly lay there
and allow him to drain her so long as the feelings coursing through
her body and concentrating in her womb never ceased.

Spike reluctantly drew back, gently licking the puncture wounds to
stop the blood and start them healing. Her blood was intoxicating, a
potent elixir imbuing the drinker with strength, power, and no small
amount of lust. He had tasted the blood of a slayer before, drinking
greedily as her life had slipped away and revelling in the power her
death had brought. This slayer—his slayer, his demon growled
possessively, licking once more at the two marks gracing her thigh—
tasted of power far greater than any he had known before.

She thrashed beneath him, but not in an attempt to free herself from
the master vampire whose teeth had so recently rested within her
flesh as he drew her life-source from her. Rather, she bucked in
desperate lustful need of the selfsame vampire whose mouth hovered
scant inches above her needy flesh.

He grasped her hips, pinning them tightly to the bed with his
fingers digging painfully into the tender flesh, and reached out
with the tip of his tongue to trace gently from her entrance to her
pleasure centre; he nipped it gently before sucking the hardened nub
into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue as he suckled. Her hips
fought against their imprisonment, seeking to buck upwards and force
a greater contact between her aching flesh and the vampire's hungry
mouth. His hold clamped down even harder, and her movements ceased
even as her desperate mewling grew all the more urgent, his name
barely distinguishable amongst the incoherent babbling. He suckled
harder and nipped again at her sensitive clit.

In just moments, her body exploded as wave upon wave of pleasure
engulfed her, and her thighs clamped closed around her lover's head,
locking him into place. He thanked all who would listen that he had
no need to breathe before again dipping his tongue between her folds
to lap hungrily at the flood of abrosia, his eager ministrations
prolonging her orgasm. His hold on her hips relaxed as his hands
travelled over her now wildly thrashing body, and his moan of
appreciation against her heated flesh caused yet another flood of
juices to coat his tongue as it delved into her depths. He continued
to lap tenderly at her, avoiding her clitoris as she slowly came
down, small shocks continuing to course through her body for some
time as his tongue gently explored her virgin passage.

Her legs unclamped as her orgasm subsided, and after once more
laving her folds and indulging in a parting suck to her clit Spike
moved up her body, gathering her in his arms as he lay beside her on
the bed. He captured her mouth and kissed her breathless, the taste
of her own juices on his lips at first startling and then exciting
her as she recalled exactly why he tasted of her.

When he released her mouth to allow her breath she nuzzled into his
neck, burying her face from his sight. The slight tremor of her
shoulders and the tiniest trace of sound put him on alert, and he
pulled her slightly away from his body, his fingers gently lifting
her chin so he could see her face. A lone tear traced its way down
her cheek.

Concern etched his features as he stared in shock at her face. "Shh,
pet. Ah, love what's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was certain that he
hadn't, but her tear gripped him with a sudden panic; the last thing
he had wanted was to cause her pain, either emotional or physical.

Buffy shook her head vehemently and tried to find the words to
explain. "Spike, that was… I never knew anything could be so…
amazing." Her words were so quiet, hidden beneath the uncertainty of
inexperience and the dread that he would laugh at her reaction to
something that had been nothing less than a revelation; had Spike
been anything but a vampire, he couldn't have made them out despite
the close proximity they currently shared.

A smile curled the corners of his mouth once he realised that her
tears were of joy and not sorrow or pain; relieved, he claimed her
mouth once again before murmuring softly against her lips, "Ah,
Buffy, love, you scared me. I thought I'd hurt you, kitten, and
that's not what this night is about." His chest puffed with pride
that he had given her such pleasure, and he pulled her to him to
once more kiss her thoroughly, his tongue dancing a slow tango with
hers as his hands tangled in the golden waves of her sweetly scented
hair.

They finally drew apart, allowing Buffy to draw a deep lungful of
much-needed air. Spike stroked gently down her back, easing the open
pyjama shirt down off her arms and onto the floor. His eyes wandered
appreciatively over her naked body, committing to memory every dip
and curve, the silky texture of her golden skin, the sheen of her
hair as it fell in a dishevelled tangle about her shoulders, the
still lust-clouded eyes that gazed up at him, the kiss-swollen lips
slightly parted as if awaiting his return to ravish them further.
Every detail was filed away for later recall, for he couldn't
comprehend such an opportunity being open to him again, even as his
demon protested such a thought. To the demon, it was a simple
matter—the girl belonged to him, he would have her when he pleased
and allow no other to touch her.

Buffy balked under the intensity of his gaze; she found it strangely
unsettling, even after all he had just done to her and where he had
just been, to have his smouldering blue eyes so openly digesting her
naked form. Her embarrassment shone brightly in her cheeks as she
ducked her head to hide against his chest, burrowing her face into
his t-shirt. Her mind raced to catch up to her body. She had just
shared the most intense experience of her young life with a vampire
who had vowed to kill her, to drain the life from her body and… wait
a minute.

"Spike. You bit me!"

"Yeah, pet, I did. You only just catching on to that now?"

"But you promised! You said you didn't come in here to harm anyone."
Her voice was quiet but rang clearly with hurt and betrayal.

"Didn't do it to harm you, luv. If I had, you wouldn't be breathing
now."

"Then why?" She remembered the intense pleasure that had accompanied
every pull of her blood. Was that his intent? Had it been purely for
pleasure? If he had derived even half the pleasure from it that she
had, she guessed she could understand his motive.

"Just saw red at the thought of some bloke playin' around that close
to places he had no bleedin' right bein' near is all. Much as
I `preciate the thought, luv, couldn't you have got it somewhere
else? I'm sorry if I hurt you, Buffy. I just… I needed to mark you
as mine. An' before you say anything—I know I don't have any rights
to you, but, well, `s not the way the demon looks at things. An' you
had already marked yourself as mine… I was just doin' it properly."

His words left her spinning; she had tried to follow him around the
bend, but try as she might she was unable to keep up.

"What are you talking about, Spike?"

"Your little tattoo, luv. Like I said, `s a right pretty little
thing and I do appreciate it, it's just…"

"Tattoo? Spike, I don't have a tattoo."

He quirked his eyebrow at her. "Really, luv? So the pretty little
heart with a railroad spike through it is what… a figment of my
imagination?"

Buffy sat up, forgetting her embarrassment at her nakedness in light
of what he was saying. "What? Where? I can't have…? How?"

Spike couldn't help the laugh that burst free at the sight of her
distraught face and the million bloody questions to which she was
petulantly demanding answers. He took her hand and dragged her to
sit on he end of the bed, in front of the full length mirror
standing on the far side of the room. Grasping her knee, he gently
pried her thighs apart and watched as shock washed across her face
at the sight of both his mark, livid against her skin, and the
bright little tattoo so clearly representing him emblazoned just
above it on the tender flesh just shy of the soft brown curls.

She stared disbelievingly at the tattoo. Her fingers delicately
traced the lines, as if the tactile contact could summon forth the
memory of its origins. She lifted her face to look at Spike, to tell
him that she had no memory of acquiring the mark which had both
pleased and enraged him, only to see his face clouded with desire,
his eyes fixed on her fingers, mesmerised by their movements as they
ran gracefully across her flesh, alluringly close to her damp folds.

Emboldened by his obvious desire, she allowed one finger to trace
across her outer lips, running slowly up before dipping between the
folds to tease gently at her clit. Her breath caught at the touch of
her own hand even as she longed for a cooler touch, for his fingers
to trace the path her own had followed. Spike's appreciative moan,
however, encouraged her further, and she experimented with different
pressures against the sensitive nub. Twisting and tweaking it
gently, tracing lazy circles then pressing down to rub firmly, all
the while keeping her eyes fixed with wonder on her lover's
expressive face. The sight of the slayer timidly touching herself
for his pleasure caused a dual swelling in both his unbeating heart
and his eager cock. A hiss escaped him as his already painful
erection strained harder against the restrictive denim, and he moved
in an attempt to ease his discomfort.

His movement broke the spell under which the sight of his obvious
desire had held Buffy; embarrassment coloured her cheeks and a soft
distraught whimper escaped her as realisation of her actions hit.
She scampered quickly back up the bed to take refuge under the
covers, her mortification clearly evident as she clutched the sheet
tightly around her body. "Oh God, what did I do? I'm sorry, you must
think…"

Spike laughed softly as he moved once more to her side and wrapped
his arms around her unyielding body. "Nothin' to be sorry `bout,
pet. Was a bloody lovely sight." He gently grasped her chin and
forced her to look at him. "You never need to apologise to me for
anything we do in bed, luv. There is no right and wrong, you
understand me? There is only what is right for us. If you ever don't
like something I do to you, you let me know. If you like something
in particular you can let me know that too, though your body does a
good enough job of lettin' me know that." A self-satisfied smirk
graced his beautiful face before his features softened once more
with genuine concern. "I mean it, pet. "'s never anything we do
together or to each other that is wrong or dirty or any of that
other bloody rot that people come out with. If it feels right, or
good, for you… chances are it will for me too." His head tilted to
the side, his blue eyes holding hers with their intent gaze. "Ok?"

At her slight nod of acquiescence he released her chin and captured
her lips in a soft, sensual kiss, astounding her with his
tenderness. She relaxed into his arms once more, allowing the sheet
to slip as her hands reached out to hold him, one snaking behind his
head to tangle again in his unruly curls and one dropping to trace
patterns across his back. The kiss deepened and they lost themselves
in each other, touching, tasting, exploring.

Desperate for the touch of his skin beneath her eagerly adventurous
hand, Buffy grasped a fistful of his t-shirt and pulled it up out of
his waistband. She slid her hand beneath the now-freed material to
delight in the smooth silken skin stretched over taut rippling
muscles and gasped; he was just beautiful.

Spike broke their kiss reluctantly and pulled away, ripping the
shirt off over his head and dropping it to the floor before ducking
his head to capture the soft golden skin of her neck with his mouth.
He kissed and nipped his way slowly to her pulse point and suckled
hungrily; the sweet tease of her blood just below her flesh made his
mouth tingle, and with a deep groan of longing he sucked harder, her
body writhing in pleasure beneath his wandering hands.

He rolled to his back to pop the buttons of his fly and, with a
relieved sigh, allowed his straining erection to spring free. He
noted with pleasure the deep crimson mark adorning her neck and
smiled to himself at the thought of her friends and her Watcher's
reaction to that. Sitting up, Spike removed his boots and socks and
then turned and pulled the sheet that was still draped across her
body, uncovering her once more for his inspection. Satisfaction lit
him as her hands reached urgently to try and pull him back to
her. "Patience, kitten," he chuckled as he fended off her quick
little hands. He slipped the jeans down his slim hips and muscled
legs to pool unwanted on the floor before he turned back to her.

Buffy's eyes widened as she took in for the first time the sight of
a naked man, her lover, and licked her lips subconsciously. Her hand
reached out hesitantly to timidly touch his cool pale length, and
she gasped as it jumped unexpectedly under her gently questing
fingers.

With a soft hiss Spike moved closer, his quiet words encouraging her
to continue in their exploration. When her hand closed lightly
around him wrapping him in her heat, a groan of longing escaped and
he desperately urged her to continue. "'s alright, luv. You won't
hurt me, kitten… a little tighter. Oh yes, Buffy, that's it. That's
my girl." His obvious pleasure and babbled words buoyed her to
further experimentation and she began to stroke his length more
confidently, squeezing him firmly and stroking the soft head lightly
with her fingers as she reached it. A few drops of precum had
gathered, and she rubbed them in lazy circles over the sensitive
flesh before carefully rolling back his foreskin and tracing the
newly exposed ridges beneath the soft head. Lost in her own
captivated explorations, she missed the look of adoration and
tenderness in the vampire's eyes that was quickly followed by a deep
burning lust as her hand ran once more down his shaft to the base
and beyond to cup and gently caress his balls. With a growl he
grasped her shoulders and in one move lay her down and covered her
body with his own, settling himself between her legs as his mouth
devoured hers.

Buffy's hips arched up to meet him, urging him with unspoken pleas
to continue. He broke off the kiss, allowing the girl beneath him
the opportunity to breathe. "We don't have to go any further,
pet. `s up to you," he rumbled, voice thick with desire as he took
in the sight of the beautiful slayer, dishevelled and wanton, her
eyes bright with lust and fixed longingly on him as she allowed her
hands to roam hungrily across his back.

"I… I want… this. I want you, Spike, want to do this. Now. Please,"
she responded breathlessly as she arched her hips towards him once
more, seeking the contact she craved.

"Shh, luv. Let me do this… don't want to hurt you." Spike captured
her eyes with his own, needing to know that his words had made their
way through the fog of lust and need and had been understood. When
she nodded her comprehension he leaned in to kiss her
tenderly. "Want to make this so good for you, Buffy love." He
nuzzled against her neck and kissed her throat, his hands moving
across her body and drawing moans of pleasure and need from both of
them as he carefully positioned himself at her entrance and edged
fractionally inside her. His breath caught with a hiss as he felt
her warmth enclose his head, and drawing on every ounce of willpower
he possessed he fought the urge to plunge into her hot welcoming
channel.

With agonising slowness he eased further into her, and when he
encountered the barrier he knew he would find he slowly withdrew and
gently eased inside once more. Slowly, little by little and with
infinite care, he stretched the membrane barring him entrance to her
depths, all the while continuing his relentless assault on her body
with hands and mouth; when the barrier finally gave, allowing him to
press forwards and fill her completely, she barely noticed the pain
caused by the rending, lost as she was in the exquisite torment
Spike was wreaking upon her. Spike stilled his movements, allowing
a few moments for her body to adjust to him and for him to regain
the control over his own body that the feel of her hot velvet walls
enclosing him fully had all but torn from him.

He gazed into her eyes; her lust was shining clearly, evident for
any who looked, but there was something more than that. As she
stared back into his cerulean depths, she noted a similar look in
his gaze; beyond the obvious hunger, Spike's eyes were tender and
loving. She had dreamed of one day being looked at like that, like
she was the world to someone; she had never imagined that she would
find it in the beautiful face of her mortal enemy. Buffy reached up
to stroke his face tenderly, tracing the strong line of his cheek
before tangling her fingers in the gorgeous wildly tousled curls and
drawing his mouth down to hers for a long slow kiss. As the kiss
broke off, Spike began to move within her, gently at first; as her
hips rose to meet him and her breathing quickened, however, his
movements intensified.

She was drowning, lost in the sensations her beautiful vampire was
inflicting upon her. She clung desperately to him, Spike her only
anchor as he swept her away on a wave of desire. His mouth was
everywhere, peppering her with soft kisses, nipping her flesh
gently, tracing her body with his tongue. Anywhere his mouth did not
torture his skilled hands sought out instead, teasing her blissfully
abused nipples, gliding across the dip of her waist, cupping her
butt to lift her hips to a new angle as he plunged into her depths.
All the sensations combined to leave Buffy reeling with their impact
as her body raced toward the completion it so desperately craved.

He felt her walls tremble around him, noted her breathing become
more ragged as her moans intensify to needy mewls. With a slight
change in the angle of his hips, he ground himself harder against
her clit, his mouth crashing down to claim hers as her body bucked
beneath him and her hot silken walls massaged him closer to his own
completion. He captured her cries of pleasure with his mouth, and
her final adoring whimper of his name as he drove once more into her
welcoming heat was enough to steal the last of his will; helpless to
fight it, he felt his balls clench as his body followed hers into
bliss. As his orgasm ripped through him, her name slipped from his
lips only to be seized in turn by hers as she pressed her mouth
desperately against his.

He held her tiny form, gracefully wrapped around him and snuggled
peacefully against his chest. A smile played across his face as he
stroked her hair and watched her sleep. The curtains had been firmly
secured by the anxious slayer before she had allowed herself to
succumb to the rest her body so desperately required after their
night of pleasure. She had turned moist green eyes upon him, asking
quietly for him to stay with her, to hold her while she slept and to
be there when she awoke in the morning. He had known that he should
say no, should grab up his clothes and disappear back to Dru, to the
woman who had held his loyalty for over a hundred years; instead he
had found himself agreeing, cuddling up to the slayer and holding
her tenderly as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a soft
contented smile on her kiss-swollen lips.

As he watched her he tried not to wonder what the morrow would
bring, tried not to lose himself in doubts. He didn't know how, or
why, but he could no longer believe that his future lay with his
dark princess; rather, something deep inside him knew with perfect
certainty that he belonged with the golden beauty asleep in his
arms. How they would face their future, contend with the obvious
problems of their very different natures, he didn't know. All he
knew was that with this small girl, whose life he had sworn to take,
whose sole purpose was to destroy his kind, he felt complete in a
way he had not until that point of his existence. He would do
whatever it took to keep her, whatever was required to continue to
see the love shining in her eyes when she looked at him, to continue
to feel the wonder of her wrapping herself trustingly around his
body and sleeping peacefully, knowing that the master vampire at her
side would dust before he allowed anyone or anything to harm her.

She carried his mark twice over, it having been placed there once by
the hand of a stranger and once by him in the ancient vampire
tradition, his fangs marking her undeniably to the rest of the demon
world as his. Now all he had to do was find a way to show the human
world, her world, that they belonged to each other. He placed a
gentle kiss against her hair and allowed her soft breathing, her
beating heart, and the warm sweet scent of her to pull him down to
join her in slumber.

The end.
Challenge requirements: Buffy getting a tattoo in an unusual place.
Spike finding it. Smut. And bitey!!
AN: the tattoo described is based upon the official merchandise
Spike tattoo.. which, like the gorgeous vampire himself, does not
belong to me.