Disclaimer: If you havenât guessed by now, they arenât mine.
E-mail: I donât mean to begâŚbut please give me feedback at the link below.
Notes: This one is kinda short. Iâve been pretty busy. Itâs more that a gapfiller or something. But the end may gross you out. It is the beginning of something Iâm planning on for next chapter. Please, if you figure out whatâs going on at the end, let me know what you think. And have an open mind. He is a Vampire afterall.
Where Do we Go From Here?
It couldnât kill him. But damn, did it smart. That wack to the head wasnât something he was expecting. Of course, he should have sensed that Dru was behind him. He had certainly chastized himself enough for that lack of realization. But he counted it off that he was shocked by the sight he walked in on. Just shock. Nothing more. No fear of her danger. No sorrow that she may have just been killed. He would not feel bad for her. He was a vampire. The last thing he was going to do was feel sad over a fallen Slayer. His fallen Slayer. No, he wouldnât do that. If he was going to feel bad about anything, it would be not being able to fuck her tight hole again. Because thatâs all she was. A great fuck. No, not even that. She was clumsy. Never looked like she was having fun while giving head; was awkward trying to bounce away on my cockâŚ.but oh, the rapture that overtook her when she was coming. The sheer nirvana. Her jaw slackâŚher moans barely audible as she climaxed over and over againâŚ.yeah right. Who am I kidding? Buffy is no mere Slayer.
* * * * * * *
âSpike, what shall me do now? The Slayer has yet to wake, and poor daddy looks like someone took a bite out of him,â Dru spoke as she swayed back and forth from the doorway to the main room.
âI havenât decided pet. I didnât think that far ahead. It was enough work to drag them here to the factory. I donât see why I had to carry the wanker. Youâre the one that knocked him on the noggin.â
âOh, Spike,â Drusilla said as she sashayed over to her lover. Sitting on his lap and holding his head in her hands, âmy Spike is tired. I donât know why? You drank from a Slayer. Was she deletible my love?â
âAh, dear Buffy. It was sweet,â he turned to look at his lover with a sly grin, âwhy not have a taste?â
Drusilla took the hint, morphing into her vampire guise and burying her fans in his neck.
* * * * * * *
Buffy stirred under the harsh stare she felt even in her slumber. Sitting up quickly on the cold floor, her hands went immedietly to her head, âOw,â her brain suddenly becoming aware of the pain that seered through her entire body. Slowly her eyes openedâŚ
âAngelus?â He remained silent as he watched her naked body shiver in the cold damp air. âPlease say something.â
Again, nothing.
Buffy raised her hand to her neck feeling the wound surrounded by dry blood that travelled her body. From shoulder to her upper thigh where it travelled inward. Buffy stood on shaky legs, no longer worrying about her nakedness. It was no longer anything to be ashamed of. They had all seen her. Had all had her. In one way or another.