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Shanna
shannalynn9064@yahoo.com
Willow threw herself onto her bed. She was exhausted. It had been a very long twenty-four hours. Actually the first twelve hadn't been that bad, the last twelve, well they were a royal pain in the you know what.
The redhead reached over to the night stand for some tissues. The bite was still bleeding and she didn't really feel like getting blood all over the pillow and sheets. The events of the night played over in her head.
How did she get herself into these situations? After all she's just a nice normal formerly Jewish wiccan who happens to be best friends with the Slayer on the Hellmouth. . .oh, right. That's how. She frowned up at the ceiling, imagining that was the way toward the Powers That Be. "What did I ever do to you? Haven't I helped fight evil? Haven't I helped prevent apocalypses, or would that be apocalypi?" She wondered. "I've fought alongside the Slayer and, yeah, ok, not the best at hand to hand, but with the research! I'm all about the research and that helps Buffy a lot, ya know? Know what it is and how to kill it. Finding out the what and the how is my job. I've been kidnapped. . .four times! By Malcolm, the Master's goons, Spike and Faith. Almost five times if Riley's team would've had any say in the matter last semester. I helped defeat Adam, ooohhh, and the mayor. I gave Angel back his soul, so I use my powers for good. Ok, so that Will Be Done spell kinda not so good, but it wasn't intentional. And I turned down D'Hoffryn, so see, not a demon, even though I've had offers. Well, two actually. Spike was the other, but well, he tried but couldn't, ya know, because of the whole chip thing. So I guess you were looking out for me that night. So why not last night? Was it the morgad root thing, 'cause honest, I *was* going to pay for it as soon as I got to the ATM. . ."
Her personal tirade against the Powers were interrupted by a light knocking on her door. Sighing her frustration, she slid off her bed and swung the door open to see Spike standing there looking sheepish. "I'm in the middle of a private conversation here, Spike. What do you want?"
The blond vamp frowned and looked past her into the room. Who was she talking to? He had just left Peaches or else he would have thought his grand-sire had snuck off to finish what that bastard Angelus had started.
"Uh, pet, there's no one in there with you. Can't sense a heartbeat at all 'sides yours."
"They don't have to be here. They're listening. They know I'm mad at them."
"Uh, right." Spike looked at his witch like the last scene between the three of them might have pushed her over some unseen edge. His eyes caught sight of her hand pressing a bloody tissue to her neck. "Having problems getting it to stop?" He motioned with his head to her neck.
"What? Oh! I forgot about it, actually." She pulled the tissue away and walked back to look in the dresser mirror. Sure enough, a small trickle was still leaking forth. "Yea, I guess it is."
She turned to speak to Spike again only to run right into his chest. Willow hadn't realized he was standing so close. Not that he had a reflection to give him away in the mirror or anything. Looking up, her gaze locked with vibrant blue eyes inches away from her own.
"Take care of that for ya, luv?" He murmured seductively.
A shiver ran down her spine at the sound of his voice, the deep timbre doing things to her that it shouldn't. Oh, Goddess, she was going to burn in hell. She was sure of it.
"Ok," she whispered, her eyes never wavering from his hypnotic baby blues. Her inner voice was screaming at her 'Ok? Ok!? Are you insane? Ok, Spike,' it mimicked. 'Sure. Go ahead and suck some blood. Help yourself. Belly up to the bar, drinks are on me. Oh, that's right drinks *are* me!'
She squealed slightly as she felt strong hands on her waist lifting her up to sit on the edge of the dresser. Those same hands slide down over her hips and onto her thighs, thumbs slipping between to pull her legs apart.
"Spike, what. . .?"
"Just relax, Red. Let the Big Bad fix you up right."
Oh, there was that voice again. He was a very, very bad Big Bad to talk to her like that. She watched through hazy green eyes as he move to stand between her legs, one hand sliding up, retracing its path to her waist and around to her lower back, then she was being pulled forward against him.
"Spike,. . ."
"Shhhh, luv." He lowered his mouth and began licking up the trickle of blood from her warm skin. "Don't think Angelus got to finish what he started. Mind if I take a little more? You can let me know if I start to take too much, course the bloody chip will probably let me know before you could."
"Umm," her eyes fluttered closed as she felt the vibrations from his words teasing her collarbone, "ok. Sure. Go ahead, but not too much."
"Course not, luv. Just enough." He kissed the mark on her neck, resisting the urge to cringe at the smell of Angel's claim. He could put up with it if it meant tasting his witch again. He held the back of her head and tilted it, sliding soft cool lips over her flesh, tongue laving the area around the bite.
At the first tug against her neck, the redhead moaned. His lips suctioned tightly around the punctures and a hand ran up and down her back, occasionally whispering soft indistinguishable words of comfort.
The witch's hands slid beneath his black T-shirt, caressing, tracing circles all along the length of his back, pulling him tighter to her. Willow felt the heat building in her center again. Felt herself trembling at Spike's touches, his caresses. She let out a deep moan as Spike ground his denim clad erection against her.
The blond vampire was happily suckling away when he felt the redhead's hands slide out from under his shirt to move down and cup his arse, pulling him tightly to her. Her head fell back against his hand, cool fingers tangling in her red tresses. "Spiiiike." His name, nothing more than a breathy whisper in his ear, but it had the power to make the vampire shudder with desire.
"Red." He growled, morphing into his demon. The pressure against her neck grew, his gentle sucking changing to deep draining pulls against her flesh. He reached down and grasped the round globes of her ass and lifted her from the dresser, the witch's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to balance herself, her arms draping about his shoulders.
Spike carried Willow to her bed and laid her back against the pillows, moving down on top of her, not once breaking their embrace. He shuddered with the urge to sink his fangs into her flesh, to claim her as his own and obliterate his grand-sire's earlier marking. Her fingers were tangled in his hair again, holding his mouth to her bite, her back slightly arched as she pressed up against him.
The blonde's hand slid up to gently cup one soft breast, thumb brushing across the cloth covered nipple and feeling her instant response to his touch. He rocked against her, pressing his arousal into the damp denim of her jeans. "Willoooowwww," he moaned.
The redhead's hand had since moved back down to squeeze the firm cheek of his ass, arching up against him as they ground together sensually. Her head was spinning. What was he doing to her? What was happening? She felt his fingers lightly pinching her taut nipple through her top and groaned.
Leaning her head down she nibbled at the vamp's neck softly before biting down on a small section just behind his ear, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave a small bruise. Spike growled and couldn't resist the urge any longer. He dragged his sharp teeth along her skin and found the entrance wounds. Moaning, he sunk his fangs into Willow, desperate to claim her for his own. The pain hit as his chip went off, but the demon drove on.
Spike saw bright lights behind his closed eyes as the pain exploded in his skull and he whimpered in agony. With one last burst of determination he pushed deeper into fresh muscle, obscuring Angel's mark and making her his own.
Willow gasped, realizing what he was doing when she felt him dig deeper into the wound. She looked down at the form that had collapsed on top of her and was drawing in deep unneeded breaths to steady itself as he lapped at the trickling wound.
"Spike? Are you ok?" She lightly brushed his bleached hair with her fingertips. "What were you thinking?" She asked softly. "You know you can't bite me. How bad is it?"
Spots danced in front of his witch's face as he tried to focus. "Couldn't let the poof have you," he mumbled, disoriented. "You belong with me. You're my witch, my Red. Mine!"
He snuggled close, cushioning his head on her soft breasts, body pinning her to the mattress as he lay between her spread thighs. . . and proceeded to passed out.
"Spike?" Willow asked softly.
"Spike?" The witch looked down at the blond vamp with worry plain on her face. "I hope you're ok," she whispered. "But you're not dust, so I guess you'll survive."
Taking a deep breath of her own, Willow wrapped her arms around the unconscious blond and gazed up at the ceiling and the Powers again. "You'd better believe that our little conversation is not over by a long shot, buccos! You have some serious explaining to do, but I'm just too tired to deal with you right now." Closing her eyes, she drifted into an exhausted slumber, cursing the Powers That Be in her dreams.
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