Cool fingers glide up my leg, and I bite back a moan of anticipation. I know where they’re headed; it’s just a matter of how much Spike wants to tease me tonight. 

I force myself to lie unmoving beneath his touch, my face turned away as if I can’t stand the sight of him. Or what he’s doing. 

“Look at me, Slayer,” he whispers softly, cool breath skating across my skin causing goose bumps to rise and my body to shiver. 

His knowing chuckle grates, even as my cheeks flood with heat… with shame. 

Why am I here? Why am I allowing Spike to touch me? 

More importantly, why do I come back? 

The second his mouth is on me, I know. I gasp and my hands instinctively find his head; my fingers thread through his hair and grip it hard. Hard enough for him to growl in warning – but I don’t care. And truthfully, he probably doesn’t either. He gets off on a little pain. 

He fucks me with his tongue until I’m on the brink of orgasm — and then he stops. My wail of denial echoes around the crypt. I was so close! 

“Bastard,” I hiss, staring at him for the first time since I’ve stripped out of my clothes and climbed up on the sarcophagus. 

He nips the inside of my thigh in retaliation, but it’s his smug expression that has me seeing red. I sit up with every intention of kicking him onto the ground, grabbing my stake from my discarded jeans and shoving it into his chest. 

I don’t get the chance. 

I forget how strong Spike is, how much the chip has hampered him in the past. 

Until now. 

Now he flips me onto my stomach and draws me onto all fours before I’m able to put up a fight, or even realize that I need to. I feel his cock nudge my pussy and then he pushes in. Hard. Forcing my body to yield to his superior strength. 

I hate this position and he knows it. His next words growled in my ear confirm it. 

“Don’t want to look at me? Fine. Close your eyes and imagine it’s your precious Angel fucking you,” he snaps. “Or better yet, Soldier Boy.” He pauses for a minute then adds, “Nah, better stick with Angelus; even with a soul the wanker’s got enough demon in him to spice things up for you. So go on, Slayer, close your eyes and think of lover boy stickin’ it to you.” 

He shuts up then and the only sound I hear is the slap of flesh and his grunts of pleasure. I refuse to let him hear me cry, but I can do nothing to stem the tears streaming steadily down my face. 

Spike’s words ring in my ear, and as much as I want to do like he asked, it’s not Angel’s face I see. Ever since that first night, it’s been Spike who has occupied my mind, Spike who has haunted my dreams.

Angel is nothing more than a distant memory. 

It’s Spike that makes my blood pound. Whether we’re fighting or fucking, just being around him makes me feel alive. And I need that. Need him. 

Only, it appears I’ve destroyed that now, much like everything else in my life. 

The End

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