Chapter 13:

The Master Claimed the Queen of Hearts, And She Liked It!





by Quwinntessa Starber

 The warm feeling of water surrounding her body woke Willow up with a start. Her eyes struggled between being heavy with sleep, and the need to become alert. Realizing she was surrounded by water, Willow began to struggle, overcome with the sensation.

"Shhh, Luv, it's alright, just a bath to clean up." Shivers overcame her body as Spike spoke from behind her, directly into her ear, his lips brushing against her lobe.

Closing her eyes, she relaxed into Spike's embrace. She felt arms she hadn't noticed wrap about her waist, thumbs idly brushing the underside of her breasts. Sighing she nuzzled under Spike's chin, more than content when she felt his lips move to brush the side of her neck.

"How're you feeling, Willow?"

For a moment she was perplexed. Of course she felt wonderful, like she was floating on air. She had Spike with her, wrapped about her body, so that she could feel his powerful legs on either side of her own, enfolding her, keeping her safe. She was warm and happy, and very, very satisfied.

And then she remembered.

"Oh my god!" Sitting up, she pulled away from Spike's arms, but wasn't able to escape his vampire reflexes as he pulled her back against his chest, one hand between her breasts, the other against her stomach, holding her close. She struggled against him, embarrassment colored with a mixture of so many other conflicting emotions she couldn't hope to reason them all out. But Spike held strong, refusing to let her go and eventually she grew tired, her body finally giving out and falling against his, her face hidden in his shoulder. Strong fingers wound their way though her hair, gently massaging her scalp, easing the tension from her shoulders.

"Finished now, Pet?" Willow didn't say anything, only rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "There now, Luvie, no more struggling. You're all right, now. The morphine's all worn off and you're probably exhausted even though you slept through most of it…well, slept might be too strong, more like fainted."

At the word fainted, she pulled back and looked into his blue eyes, noting that his breath smelled like peppermint which must have been for her benefit. "I…fainted?"

Spike's face instantly changed, his expression going carnal. "Might have been a bit much for you Red, all that--" With lightning reflexes, Spike struck, his mouth claiming Willow's in a bruising kiss that spoke of instant dominance and a passion not nearly sated. His tongue fought against her weak defenses to plunder her mouth, forcing hers into complete submission. For a moment she was half frightened by his forcefulness, but some part of Willow understood that Spike needed this, needed to dominate her for just a little while before he could calm himself down. He was after all a vampire, and as she was only human, she knew he was being quite gentle with her. After what seemed forever, Spike pulled back, his tongue running over her bottom lip one final time. His voice was seductive as he ended his previous sentence, "Sexual stimulation."

Through the haze of drugs and something far older, Willow fought to capture the images that floated around her mind. She remembered clearly everything up until the needle pierced her arm. After that, the images became blurry, but she thought she heard the sound of heavy breathing, of loud moans that turned into screams that seemed to form a word she couldn't identify. She remembered the light of the fire, the dancing of the flames, the sound of the popping wood, and that muffled screaming again. Then another memory of the darkness--a flash of skin--maybe her arm.

And then suddenly, it was as if she were looking down at herself from outside her body. She saw herself spread out across the bed, her knees wide and bent, Spike's hands holding them to the bed as they shook and struggled for purchase. She saw her hands fisted into the comforter, her breasts large as they arched with her back, her head thrown back into the pillows, her eyes so wide she could see the near black green they had become. But just as the memory was from out of body, she briefly understood that it was little more than her reflection in the mirror that hung upon the ceiling over the bed. It was then she sensed the change, she saw Spike's head at her center, notice for the first time that she was watching him drink from her, before she saw his head come up, his game face towards her. Then suddenly he returned, his lips to her body, and she began to scream.

Her body lashed from side to side, her head thrown back so that the reflection shifted so quickly she could barely understand it. The screaming was forever, the sound so full of emotional release that it was impossible to mistake it for anything other than what it was--his name, she was screaming his name in released passion so pure and immodest that it scorched her soul. The sound, his name, his touch, his body, tongue, mouth, touching her, tasting her, overwhelming her; and her eyes as she saw them through the mirror, the total and utter abandonment of all her senses to this one male. Her eyes told the whole truth, on that bed, in the firelight of that room, her soul had become his, to own and to possess as he willed it. As her mind rushed back to the present, to her body now cocooned by water and Spike's blood warmed heat, she knew that tonight, she'd give him her body as well. Before the night was over, he would possess everything she had to offer him, including her innocence.

Her breath quickened in her chest, her body tingling with her now resolved heart. Carefully, she turned to him, her face looking up into those fathomless blue eyes that captivated her, holding her tongue prisoner so that she couldn't even speak to tell him what she wanted.

She didn't have too, he already knew.

Willow knew he allowed her to make the first move, knew he wanted to and yet held back as much for her peace of mind as to allow his demon to feel her strength. Shifting her hips she felt for the first time the deep ache that the warm water was slowly relieving. She didn't have to move further to know she was tender, raw from a night of minute fang lacerations and Spike's insistent tongue. Briefly she shivered at a sudden memory of his touch, and she knew when she next looked into his eyes that he understood, and wanted her even more for that understanding.

Her arm broke the water's surface slowly, and even though the bathroom air was warm from the tub, she still felt the coolness of the air as she wrapped her arm around Spike's neck and shifted her hips to slide her knees around his thighs. His arousal was stiff against her stomach, and she knew her eyes were wide at her discovery. His smirk told her everything she needed to know, but she held her ground against her nervous embarrassment. Spike was teasing her, giving her as much control as he was willing to let her have. She knew, she understood, and she accepted.

Her fingers brushed the back of his neck and she watched his eyes golden for a moment in satisfaction. He was hers as much as she was his.

Willow's voice was timid when she spoke, but it was a cover, she already knew the answer. "Did everything go…alright, last night?"

Spike nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Went fine. How much do you remember?"

She closed her eyes against a sudden flash of memory, of his strong hands against her hips, holding her body to the mattress. "Enough." She shifted, her head tipping under his, her mouth delivering a kiss to the underside of his chin. "I remember enough."

The growl she remembered from last night emanated from Spike's chest, vibrating through her body pressed tightly against him. Her body's response was immediate, as if in the period of one night she'd been trained to understand that vampire call. Liquid fire rushed down her body to pool in that place deep inside her, a smoldering that fanned out and demanded her attention.

She didn't know her chest constricted, didn't know her body had whimpered in response to his call. All Willow knew, all she cared about, was that the man she loved was before her, and she was ready, ready to end this power struggle between them. Willow Rosenburg was prepared to submit, completely, to the call of her chosen mate.

She moved one hand down his neck, resting it against his chest, over the place that once held a beating heart. Slowly, her fingers stroked, as if seeking to revive that heartbeat.

When his hands suddenly surged out of the water, when his fingers wrapped painfully around her upper arm, his fingernails unwittingly biting into her flesh, she'd been ready; she knew what was expected of her. How she knew she didn't know, but it was as if it were engrained in her soul, as if she'd known all along that this was how it would end.

"You're mine, Willow!" Came the guttural growl of something all together not human. "Mine until the end of time, do you understand that?! Do you?!" His grip increased, and the flesh about her arms began to bruise against the abuse. But she was silent, and instead of words, she raised her head, forcing her eyes to meet his which were now the color of black gold.

With her eyes she submitted to him; with her gaze she gave herself to him for eternity. One century to the next--time didn't matter. This moment was stronger than time, stronger than god, stronger than death, it was the beginning of everything, and the end of everything else.

Something deep inside her told her to remain silent, even when Spike grew angry, even when he forced her body half way out of the water and shook her, her long hair whipping about her, the muscles of her arms grinding against bone to make her cry out, and still she did not answer with words, only her eyes spoke.

"No one will ever have you but me, Willow! No man, no woman that I do not choose will ever touch you again! You're body belongs to me; everything that was once you now belongs to me! My word is law, my voice gospel! Disobey me and I will punish you, please me and I will lavish upon you more than you ever imagined possible! When I choose I will bring you across, I will make you my queen, and until then, you will obey me, do you understand?!" His beautiful poets face had slipped, replaced by the mask of the demon which was more than fitting because Willow knew that it was the demon housed within that spoke now, that commanded. Fangs bared, golden eyes boring into her own, Willow did the only thing she knew would earn the respect of the demon, she told it with her eyes that she was his, and kept her lips silent. She would never bind herself to this agreement, never willingly give herself away completely, not in word, but her eyes spoke the truth, her eyes were the windows to her heart.

And then suddenly, the demon let her go. Willow's unsupported body splashed back into the tub, sending a wave of water cascading over the side to slide across the marble floor. Beneath the water's surface her arms burned from the abuse, and her body instinctively began to shake with reaction--but she was not afraid, she'd just won.

The voice that spoke next was the combination of something timeless and indistinguishable between good and evil, maintaining only the need for survival beyond her understanding. "She does not break." And then, "I approve."

It would have been so much easier for Willow to think that the demon and Spike were two separate beings, but they weren't, they were one, sharing the same body, and the same mind. Though the part of Spike that retained little humanity and only an instinctual drive to survive had just damaged her body, the part that had once been a poet was in complete tandem with it- -they were one.

"Willow?" She looked up into clear blue eyes again, offering a weak smile as she tried to rub the pain out of her arms. "You did so good, baby, so good." Gently, mindful of her arms, he pulled her back against his body, letting her cheek rest against his chest as she recovered from the ordeal. Softly his words drifted to her, lulling her tired body into a trance like state.

"The demon is as much the vampire, as the vampire is the demon; both demon and vampire are bound. At the same time, they're different, with the same drives only different ways of achieving those desires. It's like two individuals going after the same thing, using different means of getting it. I never want to hurt you, Willow, and I'm so proud of you for being strong. Things are going to be fine for us now, I promise. You're mine now, Willow; I'll take care of you for the rest of your existence, I take care of what's mine."

Awake, she felt him removed the dried blood that stubbornly held out against the water. She allowed him to move her like a rag doll as he washed her hair, then scrubbed her body lightly. She sat passively on the edge of the tub as he dried her off before rubbing cooling lotion on her parched skin. She held him around the neck as he took her back into the bedroom, as he sat them down on the rug before the fire, both naked and damp, as he meticulously brushed out the knots in her hair, allowing the fire to dry their skin. Willow was silent and unresponsive for all of these actions, allowing her soon to be lover to pamper her, to care for her, to love her.

Finally, the last knot yielded under the ministrations of the brush, and she knew her hair gleamed in the orange firelight. Against the soft bearskin she sat upon, Willow turned around, her eyes seeking the cool blue of her love's. Shifting so that her knees were beneath her, Willow knelt before Spike, the glory of her body highlighted and shadowed by the golden flames.

Her movements were slow but not hesitant, there was no reservation left in her now, only a need to complete what was started long ago, back in Sunnydale on a warm summer night. One delicate hand rose to a warm chiseled cheek, and she allowed her fingers to caress there before moving to brush an invisible strand of hair behind his ear; her fingers trailing down his neck to rest against his chest, where his heart once beat. Her other hand moved then, seeking his before taking his strong wrist and bringing the palm of his hand to rest against her cheek. For a moment she held it there, before dropping it away, leaving Spike's fingers to caress her face before sliding down to curve around the back of her neck.

Her eyes had never left his, and in this moment, this last true moment, Willow offered her love a smile.

"So that everyone will know who I belong to," and she slowly and carefully tilted her head to the side, exposing her throat.

His nod was slow and sensual, his eyes telling her he understood her sacrifice, that he knew what she was offering him, and that he accepted the unspoken truth--that the burden of responsibility would no longer be hers once he moved into the cradle of her neck. His eyes dropped to her throat, and Willow leaned her body into his at his gentle pull. One warm hand moved to her hip, only to slide up her side to hold her steadily at her lower back.

She felt his kiss over her jugular, felt the vibrations of his voice more than she heard the words. "I love you, Willow; my mate, and my queen." In her own response, she brushed her lips against his neck.

His face shifted then, and she felt the sharp graze of his fangs as he opened his mouth about that bit of flesh. Closing her eyes she unconsciously stretched her neck further, willingly accepting his mark of possession.

The strike was severe and true. His fangs tore through skin and muscle to pierce the very flow of her life. The pain was intense, stabbing quickly, shooting through her entire being before completely dying away into oblivion as he drew the first mouthful of life from her.

Ecstasy as she'd never known it shuddered through her body, wracking her with an instant orgasm that forced the tips of her nails deeply into the flesh of his neck and chest. She screamed, lifting her body with her knees, pushing against the exquisite pleasure that burned itself throughout her entire being. She cried his name over and over, screamed and screamed the name of her mate, her one true love.

It seemed as if it lasted for hours, as her body pulled taunt as a bowstring humming from the strain. In reality it was quick, her body already too low on blood from the last few days of lustful feeding. Three long pulls were all he took, three mouthfuls of life that sealed her forever as his, and marked her eternally as the mate to a Master.

Carefully he licked the wound, feeling the puckered flesh of his mark before slicing his tongue and allowing a few precious drops of their mingled blood to seal the open wounds. In his arms she was still taunt, still crying out his name, her hands still ripping into his flesh. He held her as the rush faded, leaving her breathless and needing. He watched her head fall backwards, exposing her neck as her breasts and abs were exposed to him in the firelight.

She was porcelain perfection, as the heat in her body flushed her skin, making her rosy and alive. Her chest rose and fell with deep painful gasps of breath that were only just beginning to slow. Soothingly he ran his hand over her sweating face, brushing the perspiration back towards her still damp hair. She mewed into his touch, begging with sound that her body did not consciously make for him to continue.

That sound, that unconscious call of need from one mate to another. They weren't perfectly bonded yet, for that she'd need to become a vampire, but his demon had accepted her, and so it responded instinctually to her cries, to her desires.

Leaning forward he licked from the valley of her breasts up the column of her neck and to her chin, pulling her forward then before plundering her mouth. Her senses were still returning to her, so her responses were weak, and in her weakness, he took control, sweeping his tongue across hers as she fought her exhaustion to respond.

Her body whimpered again, and his demon answered with a growl of dominance that quickly morphed into action. As if lifting a doll, Spike stood, carrying Willow's hanging body to the bed before laying her across the newly changed sheets; watching as her white skin was surrounded by the midnight satin. Her body was ripe, her breasts full, her lips swollen, her legs parted--a silent invitation.

Spike's hands moved to her hair, brushing out the strands so they fanned out about her head. Soon, as her body rested, her hair was laid out, starburst around her in a hallo of red gold. His hands continued their soothing gestures, tracing the lines of her face, running lightly over the column of her torso, caressing down her thighs.

Eventually, her eyes drifted open, their green depths swimming in a euphoria of sensation. Slowly she reached for him, pulling him by the shoulders until he was half draped over her body, before running her hands into his hair and bringing his mouth down to take hers.

The kiss was just as slow, loving, conveying that the hardships were now over, that only security and love remained. His hands found her breasts, and lightly he touched her, aware that her body had suffered greatly these last few nights and he needed to be gentle with her. Quietly she moaned, arching into his touch, pulling her hands to encircle his biceps, holding him to her. Her mouth fought back, her tongue taking the initiative to invade his, to slip past his full lips.

As their mouths worked together, Willow's hands become more insistent, her whines more vocal, less about vibration and more about sound. She was needing, so completely ready for him that her body sang with desire, shook with unreleased passion.

With effort he dragged his mouth from hers, but wasn't able to stop himself from licking at his mark upon her throat. But that last move was too much, too much strain on a body that had never experienced this type of torturous passion.

Spike pulled back at the sound of Willow's sob. Tears of frustration dropped from her eyes, and he growled deep in his chest at their sight, eliciting another sob from his mate.

"Willow, Luv?"

"Please…oh please…please, please…" She didn't know what she was saying anymore, too blinded by this fierce and total ache in her body. He'd never intended to make her beg, and it destroyed him to see her so--to look upon her face and see the pain she was in.

"Shhhshhhh, Willow, my love, shhhhh. Spike's going to take care of you. I'm so sorry, baby. Just breath for me, Red, breath deep, I'll make it stop hurting real soon." She continued to whimper, but he saw her understanding through the haze in her eyes.

He moved swiftly, shifting the full weight of his body against Willow's to let her know he hadn't left her. She cried out at the contact, her senses beyond overloaded as she pressed her hips repeatedly against him, seeking pressure where she needed it most. He cooed to her softly, trying to calm her down with his voice alone, but she was too far gone, too far beyond the point of simple reason.

Cautiously, he positioned himself, mindful to keep the stimulus to a minimum, lest she hurt herself during the first true thrust of a male body. One hand held her hip down and while he tried to be gentle, he knew he was bruising her flesh as she pressed wildly up against him. She'd ache tomorrow from the numerous bruises and lacerations, but that was tomorrow, and this was now.

"I love you, Willow."

"Spike!"

Then with one powerful shift of his hips, he brought them together. She cried out from the pleasure, the completion, the overwhelming sense that they were finally and truly one being. She was too hot, too ready for him already to bother with a need for time, all that was required was the delicious friction, and so he gave it to her.

Each thrust was more demanding than the last, each withdraw more heart wrenching. Her legs wrapped about his hips in a crushing need to bring him closer, drive him deeper, to make that tug and slide more enduring. With every move her cries got louder until she was sobbing for him to help her to finish this game they'd begun in that hateful town.

The tempo increased, while her cries continued to drive him insane, forcing him to fulfill the call of his mate for completion. His mouth sought out her breast, his teeth just grazing the nipple.

Then he felt it, the flutter of her inner walls, the feel of her body holding onto his and refusing under any circumstance to let him go without a fight. Her soft sobs abruptly changed to wild keening, as her back arched up, her body supported by her head and neck as she screamed his name.

"SPIKE!"

It was his name on her lips, her sweet voice calling it for the world to hear, for the world to know who had brought her this divine pleasure. It caught him almost completely off guard, his seed erupting from his body to fill hers.

He caught himself before he crushed her, his ears picking up the shuddering repetition of his name as Willow came down from her high. His body still locked intimately with hers, he rolled, bringing her atop him, her knees sliding around his hips to keep her centered. Little mini tremors shook her, and he tried to sooth her relaxing body by running his hands in all direction across her back.

Slowly, her breathing evened out, until he thought for a moment she might be asleep, too exhausted from everything to maintain consciousness. Then, in a breathy whisper, she spoke.

"Thank you. For everything. For loving me, for claiming me, for making me feel like…this. Thank you, Spike, thank you, William, thank you."

Words were simply lost to him then, and so he just held her, his mate, his lover, his heart, close to his chest, and imagined, that for just one moment as he drifted off to sleep, that the heart in his chest beat one last time for her--his queen.

chapter 12

chapter 14

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