Disclaimer: If you havenât guessed by now, they arenât mine.
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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 cockâŠ.but oh, the rapture that overtook her when she was coming. The sheer nirvana. Her jaw slackâŠher moans barely audible as she climaxed over and over againâŠ.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 openedâŠ
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.
She stumbled across the room. Attepting to make it to Angelus when the lack of blood or nourishment in all this long while, took capture of her. Angelus did nothing to break her fall. She winced at the new found pain on her knees. Deciding there was no point in getting up if he had no interest, she curled herself into a ball.
He didnât know what to do. There she was. Awake. Blood all over her. Her blood. Then she called his name. Tried to reach him. For what? Comfort? Was he able to do that? The she fell and he felt a pang deep inside. Hated her for making him feel it.
Buffy felt something. The air around her changed. Opening her eyes she saw Angelus above her. Still fully clothed. He took of his coat then and when she as about to speak, he placed a finger on her lips. Slowly he dipped down to her neck, tracing the outline of the bite. Anger flaired inside of him. Spike had taken something he shouldnât have dared. He will pay, he silently pledged, but pushed those thoughts away for now. After cleaning the blood around her neck, Angelusâ tongue traced down her body. Cleaning up every droplet of dried blood. Cleansing her.
Buffyâs hands rose to his head, gripping him so that he couldnât even think about moving anywhere else but lower. And lower he did, âAngelus, I need you. Need to feel you.â
And still, he said nothing.
Once reaching the apex of her thighs, he parted them wider. Then with the thirst and hunger of a dieing man, he delved in to her sweet folds. She was so wet. Why was she wet? Was it just from this, or was it from what Spike had done. But waitâŠAngelus pulled back, staring at her moist center.
Buffyâs head raised to look at him. Pain enveloped her heart as she spoke softly, âI donât rememberâŠI mean, I think SpikeâŠI thinkâŠâ
âHe didnât,â he slowly raised his eyes to hers. âHe didnât.â