He had only been using her. She had known that. She had been using him, too. So, why did it hurt so much to have the truth flung in her face?

As soon as school was over she told Giles she wasn't feeling well--not really a lie--and practically ran home.

Joyce let him be for nearly six hours, but finally couldn't take it any longer and opened the basement door.

"I'm coming down," she yelled as she started down the stairs.

Spike sat up on the cot and watched her descend, noting with lack of amusement the heavy cross around her neck. Swinging his legs over the side of the cot, he ran his hands over his face, tired, yet restless. He hadn't been able to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was the pain on Buffy's face as he told her he was only using her.

It had gone so far past that so very early on in their relationship. Why couldn't he admit that?

Joyce sat down on one of the last steps, watching the expressions cross the vampire's face. "You care about my daughter," she finally said.

Spike tried to scoff, but then sighed and nodded. "Little good it'll do me. She probably wants my balls in a sling at the moment."

Joyce's lips twitched. "Probably. Probably not just your balls."

Frowning, Spike rose to his feet and stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his leather pants. "It was just supposed to be a bit of fun," he growled. "She wasn't supposed to fill my every waking thought. I have a clan to run. I can't be mooning over a little blonde scrap of nothing."

Joyce continued to smile.

"Stop looking at me that way. Like some kind of beatific mother-in-law. It's just fucking, meaningless fucking."

"Then go fuck someone else."

"I tried! It didn't work. All I could think of was the Slayer."

Joyce began to chuckle at the absurdity of the entire situation. "Spike, it's not the end of the world to love Buffy."

If he could have gone ashen, he would have. "Love? I never said love. Love has nothing to do with it. It's obsession, pure and simple." He shook his head wildly and flailed his arms around as he denied her simple words. "You're nuts. Anyway, she hates me."

Sighing, Joyce shook her head. "Men, it doesn't matter how many centuries you've been around, you still have no clue."

He scowled even more. "The poof does. She still loves him 'cause he's all understanding and sensitive and all that crap."

"Yes, she probably does still love Angel. It's very hard to forget your first love. But, she has become involved with you. Maybe it was just sex at the beginning, but I would hope that it would have evolved by now. Regardless of her being the Slayer, Buffy is still just a young woman at heart, and you hurt her."

His shoulders sagged and he gave her a sheepish look. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I just...it's a sore point, being a substitute for Angel."

"I don't think she meant that, not intentionally at least. But, you are as close to him as she can get, and she may be confused. I don't know what's in her mind, Spike. I wish I did. I hope I raised her better than to use a man like that, but I also know how desperately she loved Angel." She rose to her feet. "She'll be home soon. I doubt she stayed for training. Please talk to her. I..." She flashed him a quirky smile. "Oddly enough, I think you'd be good for each other."

Spike watched Joyce walk back up the stairs, then sank down onto the cot to think some more.

Buffy dashed in the front door and nearly barreled over her mother. They both bounced back a bit and Joyce saw the concern and frustration on her daughter's face.

"Is he still here?"

Joyce nodded. "Where else would he go in the blazing sun?"

Buffy nibbled on her lower lip, then squared her shoulders and marched to the basement door. "If you hear screaming, it's just me staking his ass to the wall."

Joyce rolled her eyes and hoped that nothing got staked to a wall. As her daughter pounded down the stairs, she walked into the living room to spend some time thinking about how she was going to handle her only child dating a soulless demon.

And, much, much more than dating.

Mothers should never know that their children were having sex. It was much too traumatic.

At the clatter of footfalls on the stairs, Spike looked up from his perusal of the floor and his feet. Buffy came to a halt on the bottom step and stared at him. Rubbing his palms on his thighs, Spike rose to his feet and stared back at her.

"So," he finally said, breaking the silence.

"So..." Buffy nibbled on her lower lip and glanced around the basement.

"I'll be out of here the second the sun sets," Spike said gruffly, running a hand through his short hair in agitation.

"Oh."

"It's what you want, right? Me, gone?"

His eyes pierced into her and Buffy squirmed as she shrugged. "Don't know." She shifted from one foot to the other, then stepped down to the cement floor. "I love Angel," she finally blurted out, her voice cracking.

"Yeah, I got that." Sarcasm rang in Spike's voice. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "Of course, peaches can't touch you. Funny, I can't rightly picture you as a nun."

"You don't have to get nasty," Buffy snapped.

"Why not?"

"Well, you don't love me, right? So, why should you care?"

Spike scowled angrily. "I don't like the idea that the woman I'm fucking is fantasizing about my poof of a sire. I've been there, done that."

Buffy reddened and mimicked his pose, arms over her breasts. "I don't, you know. I don't think of him." Her eyes fell to her feet. "Every time I let you touch me I'm betraying him."

"Why?" At her startled look, he persisted. "You aren't dating him, going together, whatever the fuck they call it these days. You can't be together, right? He wants you to be happy, date other guys, right?"

"Date human guys my own age, not fuck two hundred year old vampires. And, that was his idea, anyway, not mine. I never wanted to break up. I was willing to just..." Her voice died away and she hugged herself tighter.

"Remain celibate for the rest of your life," Spike finished for her. "It's not in you, Slayer. You're a passionate creature."

"Then I should have done as Angel asked and found a normal guy, not...you."

Spike snorted and his eyes blazed with anger. "Yeah, well you didn't, and it's too late now."

"What the Hell are you talking about?" Buffy yelled, confused.

"You know, I'm pissed that you've got this self-hate thing going and I'm pissed that you really want Angelus and not me, but what I'm really pissed about is that you're under my skin and I can't seem to get rid of you. No matter whom I fuck, no matter how many times, I can't get you out of my head. Do you think I *want* to lust after the slayer, of all humans?"

Buffy gaped at him, his anger draining away some of her resistence. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He snorted again and lied, "Hurt me? I'd have to care about you for you to hurt me."

That stung and Buffy took a step backwards, a pressure constricting her chest. "You're hateful."

"Yeah?" Sneering, Spike cupped his crotch in an obscene gesture. "You weren't hating me last night."

"And you're disgusting." Bright red, she turned to head back up the stairs. "Get out as soon as it's dark and I never want to see..." His hand on her shoulder, spinning her around, interrupted her tirade and she glared up at him.

"It's so much better when you don't talk, Slayer." He flung her onto her stomach on the cot and quickly straddled her, pinning her squirming body down.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing," Buffy squealed, flailing back at him.

"I just came to the realization that I'm not about ready to give this up."

"It's not up to you," she snarled.

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, forcing her face into the thin mattress. "Oh, I think it is." After a long minute she began to buck wildly beneath him and he relaxed his grip.

Buffy dragged great gulps of air into her lungs, her body trembling. This was the second time he'd nearly smothered her.

Someday...would he keep holding her face down?

Lust barreled through her and Buffy gasped in horror at the precipitator. The thought of death turned her on?

Or was it the thought of dying at Spike's hands, maybe while he was fucking her?

God, she was sick!

Buffy squirmed helplessly, caught in her own fantasies and by her own desires. Removing his belt, Spike grabbed her wrists, and pulled them over her head. He wrapped the hard leather around them and tied a tight knot. He raised up slightly and flipped her onto her back, glowering down into her furious eyes.

"Animal," she hissed, taking her anger at her own need out on him.

"Yeah, demon, too, Slayer. A demon who's going to fuck you through this mattress and keep fucking you until you accept that I'm not going anywhere and I'm not giving this up. You can hate me all you want, as long as you keep spreading your legs." He shoved her legs apart, forcing her skirt up to her waist.

Growling, Buffy brought her bound hands down and tried to punch him in the head. Ducking, Spike forced his hand down the front of her panties and into her soft folds.

He grinned nastily. "You're soaking wet, Slayer."

Reddening again, Buffy swung her fists at his smug face, only to miss as he sat back on his heels. His thumb pressed hard against her clit and she arched off the bed, moaning. Two long fingers slid into her grasping passage, and his thumb moved in lazy circles over her swollen nubbin.

As lust rolled through her and her heart rate sped up, Buffy began to pant and squirm, her hands limply falling over her head. Spike pumped his fingers inside her, coating them with her juices, as he watched her arch and twist as her orgasm built. Just as she was about to reach the pinnacle, he pulled his hand free.

"Noooo..."

The nasty grin still on his face, Spike raised his sticky fingers to his mouth and licked them clean as she watched through glazed eyes, her hips humping the air.

Spike pulled his t-shirt over his head, then moved off of Buffy long enough to pull her panties off and shove her skirt out of the way. Kneeling between her legs again, he unfastened his pants and pushed them down to his knees.

At the sight of his cock bouncing lightly against his stomach, Buffy licked her dry lips uncontrollably. It was hard and angry looking. She watched as Spike's hand wrapped around the base and slid up to the tip, then back down. Her panting increased.

"Do you want this?" he asked softly, dangerously.

"Fu--fuck you," Buffy stammered, trying to sit up. His hand caught her between her breasts and slammed her back down. He unbuttoned her shirt, then unhooked the front clasp of her bra, pulling both away from her heaving breasts. One finger dragged across her nipples and Buffy moaned, arching upwards into the light touch.

"Shall we try that again?"

"I don't want you," Buffy spat out hoarsely, desperately wanting to deny the need pounding between her legs.

Spike's hand returned to his cock and he caressed it, squeezing a few drops of fluid from the tip. Leaning forward, he smeared the semen on her lips and grinned wider as she licked it off.

"I'm perfectly happy to slide my dick between your tits until I come all over your face, but I don't think there'd be much in it for you."

Buffy's eyes widened and she choked on her next breath. She had never heard of anything like that. "That's...that's just bringing yourself off. I can do that, too." She glared up at him.

"Not if I tie your hands to the headboard. I figure we've got at least three hours of day left. I can come in about five minutes of fucking your tits, then I'll gladly play with you for the next two hours and fifty-five minutes. Do you know how long you can last with stimulation but no release?" His finger returned to teasing her nipple.

"*I* do, he finally whispered."

"Why would you do that to me?" Buffy gasped out painfully.

"Because you're pissing me off." Spike's finger's closed around her nipple, tugging until she hissed in painful pleasure. "Tell me you want me, Slayer, and we'll fuck and come and have a grand time. Then I'll leave and in a couple nights we'll see each other again, maybe in the cemetery and I'll bend you over a tombstone and introduce you the pleasure of getting fucked in the ass. Or maybe I'll drop by the Library and bang you in the stacks. Or maybe I'll climb through your window and fuck you long and slow in your own bed."

The erotic images his words created were too much for her frazzled nerves and Buffy whimpered. "Please..."

"Please, what, Slayer."

"I hate you."

"We've established that. Neither of us cares, do we."

Their eyes met, both full of anger and lust, and Buffy swallowed hard, conceding. "Fuck me."

"You want my dick inside you? Ask for it."

She raised her legs, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him towards her. "I want your dick inside me," she whispered hatefully.

Spike smirked and braced his hands on either side of her head. "All you had to do was ask." As he spoke, he rocked against her until his cock nudged open her entrance. With a hard thrust, he slid to the hilt.

Buffy moaned, a long, guttural sound, and arched her hips up, her legs tightening around him. Spike thrust hard and fast, not bothering with any slow or tender strokes. She matched every thrust, rubbing her throbbing clit against the base of his cock and her pebbled nipples against his smooth chest.

Raising her bound arms, she slipped them over his head and brought his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. Against her lips she felt him change, and his fangs scraped her. In his demonic form his tongue was rougher and rubbed erotically along her palate before tangling with her own.

Buffy couldn't help but wonder what that rough tongue would feel like on her clit.

Bucking wildly beneath him, Buffy came in a frenzied explosion of white hot pleasure. She gasped his name into his mouth and clutched him to her as she lost control.

Spike groaned and raised his head, gazing down on her with demonic eyes. He watched Buffy writhe beneath him, her body covered in perspiration and flushed with pleasure. His hips slammed forward harder, driving his cock to her core as her vaginal muscles fluttered around him.

With a low growl, he came, pounding her into the mattress as his semen flooded her.

Slowly Buffy's legs fell away from him and Spike collapsed on top of her, his once again human face between her breasts. For a moment, her fingers tangled through the curls at the nape of his neck, then she lifted her hands free.

"Can you untie me?" she whispered, her voice still breathless.

The cot was too narrow for two people to lay next to each other, so with a sigh, Spike rose to his feet and pulled his pants up. Reaching down, he untied his belt, frowning slightly at the welts on her wrists.

He hadn't meant to hurt her.

Sighing, he watched her sit up and rub her wrists, and felt a stab of some emotion go through him. He refused to believe it was remorse. He was a demon. Demons didn't feel guilt.

"Sorry."

Rolling his eyes at himself, Spike scooped up her panties from the floor and tossed them to her. "Better get dressed. I'm surprised your mum left you down here alone with me as long as she has."

"...Mom." Horror crossed Buffy's face and she quickly fixed her clothes, blushing deeply as she squirmed her way into her damp panties and fumbled with the hook of her bra. "We weren't supposed to do this here, again," she hissed, unable to look at him. "God, I'm going to be grounded for life."

Spike shrugged. "You can tell her I tied you up and took you. It's pretty much the truth."

"Then I'll get a six hour lecture on bondage games. I'm not telling her anything, but we can't keep doing this..."

"Slayer..." Spike warned.

"...Here," Buffy finished, her eyes still on her feet.

Surprised by her words, Spike lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "You're giving in?"

Buffy swallowed visibly. "I want you. I can't seem to stop. I...I'm not happy that I want to have wild sex with a demon, but I do, so..." Pain filled her expression and her arms went around herself again. "At least I'll have some experience when I die."

Spike ignored the pang her words caused and nodded. "Great. No more fighting it then?"

"No more fighting it, whatever the hell it is," she agreed, turning to the stairs. "I'll see you in a couple days. I'm sure you know my patrol schedule better than I do." She dashed up the stairs.

Watching her disappear, Spike nodded again, his lips tightening. He'd ignored his talk with Joyce. He'd fought the emotions the Slayer aroused in him. He'd gotten what he wanted. Sex with no strings, no commitment, no more fighting the mutual attraction.

Why did he feel like shit?

 

The End

 

<< back