Some Cravings Never Die
Some Things Never Change
"Please Sire? I didn't spill any on the leather this time, so can I? Please?"
Spike looked across at his new bouncing creation and gave a long-suffering sigh.
"C'mere. Let me check."
Hmm. Nothing on the collar, or the cuffs. Not even a tiny drip on the burgundy silk shirt. Looks like the boy actually listened and learned, for once. He definitely deserved a reward for such rapid improvement. Only last week he'd needed a bath or a damn good licking after every meal. Pity, really, but still...
"The Twinkies are on the table. Just the one though, Xander, yeah?"
Spike's fingers twitched and itched to clasp tightly around the long smooth shaft in front of him. It had been so very long since he'd allowed himself such a personal release. It had seemed improper before, but now he was responsible for Xander it felt even more perverse, this longing, this need, this craving.
How could he maintain the fašade of strong, fearless Sire when this wrongness refused to leave him be? Xander would never...
"Spike? Sire? Did I get it wrong? Only, Buffy told us all about you and William and the poetry and..."
"Nah. 'S good, luv. Thanks."
Forever and a Day
Oiled, silken limbs slithered and slid beneath the delicate caress of light from a dozen flickering candles. Fingers tangled in long loose curls, tugging, teasing, testing each response, each rumbling growl and heartfelt purr. Fangs clashed and sliced, and frantic tongues fought for every precious drop of demonic nectar.
Each time they woke, each time they went to bed, this naked urgent ballet was re-enacted, each move choreographed for the other's ultimate delight.
"I'll never get enough of you, Xan. I'll never let you go. I'll never stop needing to touch and taste and... Oh, yeah, just like that!"