(no subject)
TITLE: Three's A Crowd
RATING: 18
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series & Tanz der Vampire
SPOILERS: Buffy S1-7, Angel S1-5.
SUMMARY: When some old friends come to visit, Dawn and Spike both have some interesting experiences of the vampire culture surrounding the von Krolocks.
SERIES: Part of Carpe Noctem series.
In order: As Aught of Mortal Birth, Per Ipsum, et cum Ipso, et in Ipso, Til The Moon Is Abed, Unwritten Words, What Remains, The Gentler Sex, Visitation, After the Storm, In The Name Of and In The Air and Makes Us Stronger, then this chapter.
PAIRINGS: Spike/Herbert, Spike/Alfred, Herbert/Spike/Alfred, Dawn/von Krolock, Sarah/von Krolock, Dawn&Sarah/von Krolock
WORDS: 12230
NOTES: This is a chapter of firsts for me. I've never written a threesome on my own before. More than that, I have never written a graphic slashy threesome before. And then, make that graphic slashy threesome include bondage and bloodplay and wahey! Novelties abound!
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Sprawled on her belly on the bed, Dawn laughed. “Oh, it is amazing!” she exclaimed down the phone. “And guess what! I have a turret! Yeah! One of those towery things with the round rooms and windows and I can see everything!”
It had been two weeks since they had moved from the manor to the castle, and only now had all the cables and phone connections been reconnected. Herbert had been outraged and had stormed into town under the cover of day-time storms the previous week to rant and rail at the companies.
Funnily enough, what was meant to take nearly three months suddenly happened, almost overnight.
“I am too good enough to be a Princess!” Rolling onto her back, propping her feet up on the pile of pillows, Dawn laughed. “You’re just jealous because you’re sharing a room again!”
“Can’t ever be as tight as your house,” the voice on the other end said. “I don’t get how public safety didn’t notice arms and legs sticking out the windows!”
On the other end of the line was one of the other survivors of Sunnydale, a Slayer by the name of Rona who had stuck with the other survivors, even helping out the Slayer training school for a few months, before heading back to the States.
She’d found a handful of other girls thanks to Willow and set up a mini-school for the East Coast Slayers. It was discreet, posing as a martial arts centre and based in a warehouse that Rona had made her home.
It wasn’t much, definitely not compared to the huge Slayer academy that Buffy had set up with Vittorio’s backing in Italy, but it had room to eat, sleep and train in, and with runaways arriving by the day, it was building up a force to be reckoned with.
“Could have been worse,” Dawn noted, trying not to grin. “At least we didn’t have to share with Kennedy and Willow.” She could almost hear the shudder on the other end of the line. “Hey! They weren’t that bad!”
“Says the girl who didn’t walk in on them! I saw more of Kennedy than I ever wanted to!”
Clapping a hand over her face, Dawn tried not to laugh. “You coulda knocked!”
“Puh-lease! Like they would have even heard me!” Rona retorted.
“Yeah,” Dawn snickered. “They do get kinda... involved.”
“In the ‘only two people in the world so sure, no one’ll notice if I eat yo...”
“Rona!” Dawn squealed.
“Girl, you know it’s true!” Rona laughed. “If they could have done it in every room, I bet they would have!” The laugh was replaced by a softer chuckle. “Still kinda miss having them around...”
Rolling back onto her belly, Dawn nodded. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “It does get kind of weird not having all the girls around anymore.” She made a face. “Now, I’m living with boys.”
“Undead boys,” Rona reminded her, a touch of reproof in her voice, but Dawn knew it was just habitual.
Of all the people she kept in touch with, Rona was the one she told everything to, even over Buffy. Rona was the one who knew about what was going on, about the way Johannes treated her, about how weirdly at home she was.
Maybe it was because she’d been in the Hellmouth that day, maybe it was because they had survived and seen things that no human was meant to see, but there was no real judgement or criticism from the Slayer.
Even Faith hadn’t criticised her.
Buffy had been the only one, and that was a sister-thing.
Once you’d seen Hell, fought there and lived through it, things that had seemed bad didn’t seem quite as bad anymore.
“You gotta come visit,” she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “We’ve got a ton of room here, and I bet Herbert would wanna freak out another Slayer!”
“After he attacked Buffy?” Rona sounded dubious.
Dawn pulled a face at the wide mirror on the opposite side of the room. “There was backstory and it was boring and sappy,” she said. “They promised not to kick each other’s asses again. He was totally fine with Faith.” She made another face. “More than totally fine, actually... they are creepily like each other.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“You still there?”
“You said Herbert is a tall, blond and pretty-boy vampire?”
“Yuh-huh?”
There was another silence, shorter this time. “And Faith is like him how?”
Dawn grinned, picking at her blanket. “They think exactly the same way,” she replied and could mentally see the horrified look creeping across Rona’s dark face. “I mean totally.”
“Y’know, girl, I saw Hell. I thought that was bad...”
Dawn started to laugh. “You gotta come and visit!” she repeated. “It’s been way too long since I saw you, and you have to meet Herbert!”
“Maybe next year?” Rona suggested. “Way I got it figured, Vi’ll be visiting here on her way back from Colorado and we can both come and crash for a few days after we go see Buffy. That okay?”
Dawn squealed, flipping onto her back. “Yes! You guys are gonna love the castle! And it’ll be all snowy and...” She trailed off as she became aware that dark eyes were gazing down at her and she saw the amusement curl Johannes’s lips.
“And your snuggle-vamp won’t mind two Slayers?”
“Uh...” Dawn shivered as he leaned over her, his hands braced on either side of her head, and his lips brushed the silk collar around her throat. His hair whispered against her cheeks and the phone fell from her hand, onto the cover.
“Dawn? Dawn, you there?”
One hand that had touched her, slipping down her side, brushing beneath her breasts and skating over her ribs drifted away. Lifting the phone, the Graf murmured, “Miss Summers is otherwise occupied. She will call you again.”
There was a faint beep as the phone was disconnected.
“Coulda just asked,” she whispered as he brought his lips to hers.
His kisses were soft, teasing, making her try and rise as readily as his roaming hands made her arch beneath him. “I could have,” he agreed, eyes gleaming. “But where would the pleasure be in that?”
Sinking her hands into his hair, she sighed against his lips. “Meanie.”
“Naturally,” he laughed softly. His hand slipped beneath the warm woollen sweater she was wearing, and she shivered, her eyes fluttering shut. And he claimed her mouth, pulling her to him.
________________________________
“Darlings!” Racing down the curve of the staircase, taking three at a time, Herbert launched himself at the two new arrivals standing at the foot. The girl uttered a shout of laughter as her companion was tackled warmly.
Halfway down from the top landing, Spike peered over the railing, brows rising skywards at the sight of Herbert embracing what looked like a limp body. “Er... Herbie, did you break him already?”
His arms around the figure’s waist, Herbert frowned and gave the male vampire a firm shake. “Now, darling,” he chastised gravely. “You know that going limp didn’t work last time you bothered to visit.”
“I’m sure you say that to all your guests, Herbert,” the girl noted.
Spike snorted, wandering down the remainder of the stairs. “Only the pretty boys,” he said, receiving a glance, arched eyebrow, then a broad smile from the young woman. “Sarah, innit?”
“It has been some time,” she replied. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
Spike shot an amused look at his lover, who had succeeded in getting the male vampire upright, only for his legs to loll under him, making it impossible for Herbert to get a decent grip.
“Unlike Herbie,” he said, offering her a hand. “I look both ways before crossing.”
Sarah laughed, slipping her hand into his, shaking it firmly. “And you are... Spike, are you not?”
“William!” Herbert corrected, then adjusted the position of his arms. The other vampire squealed suddenly and loudly, shot upright and leapt away from Herbert as if he had been electrocuted. “Ah! You see! It didn’t work this time, either.”
Staggering upright, using one of the decorative wall hangings to straighten up, the vampire pulled a face. “One day, you are going to get tired of accosting me,” he said, a notable pout on his lips.
“And, until that day...” Herbert grinned like a cat.
With a frustrated sigh, the vampire crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you insist that we come here?” he demanded of Sarah, a wounded tone in his voice. “Why do you delight in making me suffer?”
“Don’t worry, mate,” Spike said, grinning. “You’re not the only bugger to get picked on around here.”
Dark brown eyes darted from Herbert to him, then on to Sarah.
“Do you remember William, Alfred?” Sarah prompted.
Alfred regarded him, brows drawing together. “Yes,” he said after a few moments, his expression suddenly much more serious. “I remember. You were the companion of Angelus.”
Spike winced. Oh yeah. That was why the pretty little sod looked familiar. “Ah... yeah... yeah, I was...”
Apparently, Herbert disapproved of the change of mood, flinging one arm around Spike’s shoulders and the other around Alfred’s, pulling them close against him. “He was, my pretty darling,” he said firmly. “But he isn’t anymore and we...” He paused and kissed each of them with a ferocity that didn’t quite match his languid motions, his palms cupping their skulls easily. “Are all going to be the very dearest of friends.”
“Do these dearest friends have a choice?” Sarah asked, trying to hide a smile.
Herbert looked up from kissing the feebly-struggling Alfred again, then beamed happily. “Not at all,” he said cheerfully, firmly nipping Alfred’s lower lip when he started to protest.
“Oi...” Spike gave Herbert’s waist a pinch.
Herbert turned on him, kissing him fiercely, then - with a giggle - licked the tip of his nose. “Well, darling, it is something I have longed to try for quite some time, you know,” he said, batting his lashes so innocently that Spike snorted.
“What is...?” Alfred inquired warily, though it looked like he knew better than trying to escape.
“Oh, my darling William knows...” Grey eyes held blue, Herbert’s lips slowly and devilishly curving. “Don’t you, cheri?”
Spike stared at Herbert. “I thought you were joking, you kinky sod!”
“Now, my silly darling,” Herbert sighed heavily, as if he had just been asked a very foolish question. “I fear you should know me well enough to know that I would never, ever joke about such things.”
Sarah was giggling helplessly, her hands clapped over her mouth as Spike looked first at Herbert, then past him at the nervous-looking Alfred. He was pretty sure he probably looked just as boggled himself.
“Herbie, look at him...”
A feline purr seemed to be undercutting Herbert’s voice, as he turned and regarded Alfred and murmured, “Oh, I have. Often and eagerly.”
“Er...?” Alfred offered weakly.
“Herbie...”
“Shush, William,” A kiss was dropped on the end of Spike’s nose. “Now,” Grey eyes returned to the freshly-arrived prey. “Alfred, my dearest little cherub, would you care to join us for a poetry reading?”
Spike almost winced as Alfred seemed to relax. Of course, the next instant, the suspicion that Herbert could arouse in anyone was back.
“What kind of poetry reading?” he asked.
Herbert smiled without showing any teeth, gazing at the sandy-haired young vampire through his pale lashes. “Oh, the usual kind,” he said with a happy little sigh. “There is nothing quite as appealing...”
“But you have Sp... William...” Alfred protested.
“And now,” Herbert leaned closer to kiss Alfred’s stuttering lips lightly. “I have you as well, darling.” He looked over at Sarah, who looked like she was trying her utmost not to laugh out loud. “May I?”
“Oh, as you like,” she replied, grinning. “I have business with your father.”
Blue eyes and grey both went round, Spike looking wildly at Herbert, who was suddenly shaking with compressed mirth as fiercely as Sarah had been. “Herbie, don’t you think we...”
“We should show darling Alfred to our rooms!” Herbert interrupted, grinning like the devil himself. “I’m sure my father will be most delighted to see you, Sarah.” He turned, hauling the younger vampires with him. “Come along, my beautiful darlings. We have much to do.”
“But I don’t want to get in the way!” Alfred exclaimed as he was half-dragged, half-guided up the staircase. “I mean, if you want to spend time with your...”
“Darling, I have other plans for you... and him...” He dipped his head down and whispered something to Alfred which made the young vampire squeak and fall silent, throwing pleading looks back at Sarah.
“Oh, Herbert!” she called. Alfred looked relieved. “Make sure he comes to me in one piece, thank you.”
Spike couldn’t help it. He laughed aloud, in spite of all intentions otherwise. So, they were all bent on breaking the boy? Right. He could do that too. “So...” He glanced up at Herbert. “Your bed big enough?”
“We will find out, darling,” Herbert said happily, kissing him fondly then looking down at the other vampire. “And don’t look so upset, Alfred. We are protecting you from greater evils.”
“Greater than you?” Alfred’s brown eyes rose and he was pouting again. Spike grinned. He could see what Herbert saw in the boy. Didn’t fight much, but knew how to act it right enough. “Is that possible?”
Leaning around Herbert, Spike caught Alfred’s chin and kissed him, briefly, softly, making him take a startled breath, almost luring him in responding. “Possible?” he said, blue eyes gleaming wickedly. “Oh yeah.”
Herbert beamed delightedly at the wide-eyed look on Alfred’s face. “This is my darling,” he said happily, hugging Spike tightly. “Oh, we are all going to have so much fun!”
____________________________
In the upper drawing room, close to the library, Dawn had been seated on a cushion at Johannes’ feet, reading when she had felt his mood change. His fingers had been combing through her hair, his own attention on a book in his lap, when he had gone rigid and she had looked up. His eyes closed, he had drawn a slow breath then begun to smile.
“Johannes?”
“We have guests,” he murmured, dragging his hand down the nape of her neck. The book he was reading was laid aside and he rose. An elegant hand was offered to her and she scrambled to her feet, smoothing down her pants as the door open.
A woman stepped into the room. Brown hair was pinned up elegantly, with elaborate curls twirling against her cheeks, her clothing richly coloured and clearly from an expensive line.
She looked no older than Dawn herself, but she was as pale as death, although her eyes were alight and she was beaming as she ran across the room and threw herself into von Krolock’s arms.
Huh.
“Ah, Sarah,” Johannes murmured, his arms fitting around her as if they were meant to be there. And then, as Dawn stared with more than a little bit of indignation, there was kissing, and definitely not in the ‘nice to see you in a totally platonic way’ either.
Von Krolock’s palms slid down the girl’s back, drawing her closer to him, and she didn’t look like she was about to come up for air any time soon.
“A-hem?”
With great reluctance, the girl drew back and looked at her. Her eyes, too light to be brown, too dark to be gold, flicked over Dawn as she smoothed her palms against von Krolock’s chest. “A mortal, Johannes?” she inquired.
The Graf unfolded one arm and offered a hand, which Dawn claimed more quickly than she otherwise might have. He drew her closer. “Sarah, this is Dawn,” he said softly. “Liebling, this is Sarah.”
Ah. Figured. Herbert had told her tales about that Sarah when he figured she was too crazy with flu to remember anything. One of Johannes’ old girlfriends who always came back at least once every decade.
Those golden-brown eyes flicked over her again, and Dawn knew that kind of look. It was a challenge, a testing jab to her emotional defences, to see exactly how she would react, to see what it would take to make her crack.
“Herbert told me about you,” she said as sweetly as she could. “How’s Alfred?”
“Quite happily occupied, I believe,” Sarah countered, equally pleasantly. “I trust I did not intrude on anything of importance?”
Blue eyes flashed briefly. “Oh, no,” Dawn said with a warm smile. “Johannes and I were just reading.” She stepped that little bit closer, deliberately brushing her fingers against Johannes’ knuckles. “For now.”
“Ah...” Sarah looked up at Johannes and Dawn saw he was looking between them, undeniable affection on his face for both of them. “I was wondering if I might have a little of your time, Johannes?”
“But of course,” he murmured, stroking her hip.
Dawn watched his hand move, watched the way he looked at the other girl, felt a flare of anger so hot, so bitter that it almost took her breath away.
“Don’t forget who it was that bit you, honey,” she said coldly, yanking her hand free from Johannes’. She saw Sarah’s surprise, then felt the hand at the back of her neck, twisting into her hair, her face turned up to her lover’s thunderous one. Glaring back at him, she clenched her jaw against the sound of pain.
“You dare speak thus?” he barely whispered it, but it made her flinch from the power lacing every word.
Drawing several breaths, grimacing, she glowered at him. “You’re gonna leave me and go do the horizontal mambo with some other girl,” she growled the words out. “I think I got the right to say what I like.”
His lips drew back from his teeth and he bent over her, bringing his face close to hers. “This is my house, little one,” he whispered, low and deadly. “Sarah is mine as you are mine, and if I choose to take her, if I choose to take any other, I will, whether it is your will or not.”
Any other time, any other place, she might have cried at that. Her eyes were stinging and she knew there was enough wussy girl in her to get upset, but not here, not in front of him, not in front of her.
“You,” she hissed, “Are mine.”
Something flickered in his gaze, something feral, something that was pure emotion, something she recognised from that night, from that place, from that moment of exquisite and terrifying pleasure.
His kiss was sudden, violent and she was flung back against the wall by the force of it, his hands snaring her wrists, pinning them to the wall by her side. “I am,” he all but growled against her mouth. “As is she and any other I have.”
Then don’t touch her, Dawn wanted to cry out, staring at him. Don’t do anything to her. Do it to me! Look at me like you were looking at her! Make me feel like you want to make her feel!
Black eyes bored into hers, searching hers, making her tremble with the sheer force behind them, then his lips claimed hers and she felt him stirring her blood, making her shiver from head to toe with want.
Then he pulled back from her, gazing at her.
“Johannes...” she whispered, unable to move.
Not looking away from her, never looking away, he made a gesture over his shoulder and Sarah came closer. She was shivering as much as Dawn was, her eyes even darker and her lower lip caught between her teeth.
“You wish to feel what she would feel?” he challenged softly, laying his hand on Sarah’s shoulder, drawing her around to stand before him. “She who is mine and who will always be mine?”
Blue eyes met gold-brown, saw the same wild wariness, uncertainty, but not without the first hints of desire.
Bowing his head, Johannes laid a kiss on Sarah’s throat, watching Dawn through his lashes, and she felt it as if it had been her throat, her gasp echoing Sarah’s, her hands quivering by her sides.
Pale hands slid over Sarah’s hips and Dawn’s own shivered in response, her breath catching in her throat, her tongue darting against her lower lip. “Don’t...” she heard herself whisper.
Maybe it went unheard, maybe it was ignored, but Sarah’s hands covered his and drew them against her, one splaying low on her belly, lower still. His kisses traced her throat, one side, then the other.
Dawn pressed the back of her head against the wall behind her, trying to ignore the cool, invisible caresses on her skin, trying to ignore the kisses, trying to ignore the quiet gasps that might have been hers or might have been the vampire girl’s.
“Dawn...” Sarah’s voice was dazed, as if nudged by another, dizzied.
Blue eyes broke open, were caught by gold for less than a heartbeat, then slipped to black, watching, gleaming, wanting, making her hips shift and tremble.
Before her, Sarah’s wine-red blouse was opened by unnoticed touches, but it was Dawn who moaned aloud when one hand slid beneath the fabric, her back arching against the unseen palm.
The other hand moved lightly, softly, then intimately, cupping Sarah’s sex through the front of her dark trousers and both girls cried out as one, Sarah’s head falling back against von Krolock’s shoulder as Dawn shivered back against the wall.
Slowly, irresistibly, as if drawn by some power - and, knowing Johannes, that was probably about right - Dawn’s eyes followed the casual movement of that pale hand against the fabric of Sarah’s pants, saw the buttons twisted undone, one by one, so slowly, so leisurely, making her whimper with anticipation as pale skin was revealed inch by inch.
Kissing Sarah’s earlobe and murmuring something that rippled across Dawn’s senses like silk, von Krolock’s smile was palpable against their throats as the hand slipped beneath dark cloth, and Dawn uttered a shrill cry at the intimate stroke of a cool finger against the heat of her skin.
She saw Sarah’s eyes fly open, heard her stifle a cry as well, wondered if she could be feeling it as intensely. Then forgot entirely as two fingers slipped against her, teasing, nails dragging, catching, making her hips jerk, making her whine.
Fangs scraped the skin of her throat, a sensation she had not felt since the tattoo. His lips followed them, and she shivered for another reason entirely at that. Never on her throat, never like that.
Sarah arched with a whine and Dawn matched it as she felt the familiar press within her body.
“Is this what you wanted to feel?” The whisper touched Sarah’s ear softly and Dawn choked back a moan as she pressed against the invisible fingers. “Is this what you desired? That you feel what she would?”
Quivering with need, Dawn forced her eyes to his. “You cheat,” she whispered, saw that flare of emotion, that remembrance and, for the first time, she felt the delicious agony of his fangs tearing into her throat.
Simultaneously, she and Sarah screamed out, the erotic pain and agonised pleasure combining into a climax more powerful than anything she had experienced before, leaving her sagged in invisible bonds against the wall.
Her heart was racing, more of a buzz than a beat, and she closed her eyes, trying to gather her breath, trying to resist the urge to brush the ticklish trickle of blood from her neck, trying to... to...
A hand touched her cheek. Real? Not?
Squinting, she looked up, panting, found him smiling.
“Cheat,” she repeated in a breathless whisper as he brought his lips against hers, the world fading around them, shapes melting away, changing, until she recognised the walls of her own room, felt her bed beneath her.
Drawing back, von Krolock rose, standing by the bed, gazing at her, then beside her.
Shifting, Dawn exhaustedly tilted her head, blinked at the sight of Sarah spilled out on the sheets beside her, looking just as pleasantly dazed as she felt. “Huh…” Her gaze drifted back to her lover’s questioningly.
“I am afraid Sarah’s room is unprepared.” Von Krolock’s voice was soft. “She will remain here until it is.”
“Do I get a choice?” Dawn mumbled drowsily, but what irritation she might have felt was surpassed by the pleasant warmth that still throbbed through her with every beat of her racing heart.
Von Krolock smiled slightly in response, then was gone.
Sighing, Dawn closed her eyes. “You try and eat me when I’m sleeping,” she mumbled. “I kick your ass, k?”
From the other side of the bed, there was silence for a moment.
“Did you truly bite him?”
One eye opening tiredly, Dawn found the female vampire staring at her with no small amount of wary curiosity. Her mouth curled up. “Yeah,” she murmured. “That was a good night.”
Sarah nodded, looking up at the canopy. “I see.” Gold-brown eyes slanted towards her carefully. “You will not stake me while I sleep?”
Dawn grinned. “Nah,” she mumbled, reaching out and idly patting the vampire’s cool hand. “Don’t like dust on the sheets.”
__________________________
Steered through the door of Herbert’s room, Spike felt the touch of Herbert’s lips, the breath of a suggestion as he was gently nudged forward. He half-turned to find Alfred staring at him with no small measure of trepidation.
“Come, darling,” Herbert purred, pushing Alfred forward, watching Spike with a predatory curl to his lips.
Spike felt a tremor of hunger at the look in his lover’s eyes, reaching out blindly to touch Alfred’s cheek. The young vampire shied back, edging sideway, trying to escape from between Spike and his golden-haired lover.
“Alfred,” Herbert caught his wrist, drawing him back, trapping him between them. A kiss brushed across Alfred’s lips, and Spike licked his own lips, shifting from one foot to the other. Grey eyes flicked up. “William…”
A kiss was claimed and another, drawing him closer. His eyes falling closed, Spike reached out to touch Herbert. Alfred’s body was pressed between them and Spike felt the touch of Alfred’s hands, pressing against his ribs.
Herbert’s hand threaded through Spike’s hair and Alfred shuddered pleasantly between them, his hips shifting. Spike sighed faintly against the lips brushing his, felt the flicker of a tongue against his, something not quite familiar but too pleasant to distract himself with.
Alfred’s hands moved slowly against his sides and Spike felt his own hand sliding up the young vampire’s arm, feeling every crease in the heavy fabric of his coat.
“Beautiful…” Herbert whispered.
Blue eyes snapped open to find Alfred’s dark brown eyes gazing back at him, then lowering bashfully. Grey eyes gleamed over Alfred’s shoulder, Herbert’s lips brushing against Alfred’s throat.
“Git…” Spike whispered, before kissing Alfred again.
Somehow, they were moved, shifted, turned under Herbert’s guiding hands, until he was suddenly gone, leaving Spike and Alfred clutching at one another in the sudden absence of supporting touches.
Jerking back as if burnt, Alfred looked suddenly and delightfully timid, his hands clasped in front of him as he back away another step. And as suddenly, Spike felt that ripple of demanding hunger at one so vulnerable, so hesitant.
He stepped closer, his every step matched by Alfred’s tentative retreat, the dark brown eyes staring at him, watching, backing away until his knees bumped against the edge of Herbert’s bed, his arms unfolding to prevent him from falling.
Catching Alfred’s hands, Spike pulled him forward, claimed his lips hard and fast.
With a faint whimper against Spike’s lips, Alfred’s body pressed against him, as if shying away from the nearness of the bed. One of his hands released, he clutched at Spike’s shoulder, opening his mouth to protest only to be kissed more intensely.
Tugging at Alfred’s coat, throwing it to one side, Spike started to pull at Alfred’s shirt as Alfred’s hand slid up the back of his neck, as he started to respond to the kiss. The shirt tore in Spike’s hand and he felt Alfred shake at the loose scraps of fabric, trying to discard them. Seemed it came apart very easily for such a nice shirt.
A sudden gasp as his lips broke from Alfred’s cast aside any thoughts, his eyes caught by brown ones, then his shirt was grabbed and tugged over his head. He distantly heard the soft sound of it hitting the floor a moment before they were kissing again, tumbling, landing in a tangle of limbs on the bed.
Sprawled on his back, Alfred’s hands slid against Spike’s sides and over to drag up the valley of his spine, his touches so light, so tentative that it made Spike groan against his willing victim’s eager mouth.
His hips shifting, Spike pulled back just enough to see the glassy-look slip into Alfred’s eyes as they shifted erratically against one another, a pale hand clutching at his hip, Alfred’s legs parting, moving, pressing against his sides wantonly.
“Bloody hell…” he whispered, his own eyes falling shut.
Hands were moving on him. His? Alfred’s? Herbert’s? He didn’t know, couldn’t be sure, didn’t have the attention left to check. He felt his belt undone, discarded, felt bare skin press against his, felt the tug of his trousers over his hips, his hand meeting the firm thigh of the vampire beneath him, tracing along the tensed muscle, pulling a gasp from parted lips.
Alfred sank a fist into his hair, pulling his mouth down once more, and Spike groaned aloud, clutching at Alfred’s hips until he felt the flesh bruising and, even then, his fingers kneaded and clung.
A whisper caressed the curve of his ear, maybe imagined, maybe not, but the breath of a suggestion, the touch of an idea, so delightful, so explicit, so tantalizing that he had to draw breath, shaking with hunger.
Compliant and shivering, Alfred made a faint sound of protest as the remnants of his clothing were ripped off by Spike’s over-eager hands, thrown behind Spike to land with a dull sound on the floor.
Hands roamed, touching, fondling, squeezing, making the brown-haired vampire gasp and squirm against Spike, his hips moving, although from the tension in his body, it looked like he was trying to fight the most natural of impulses.
Slipping his hands under Alfred’s thighs, Spike drew back just enough so he could push the boy’s limbs up against his chest, his own torso pressing against the back of Alfred’s thighs as he leaned in, kissing him again. He pressed against Alfred’s backside with his hips, felt the other vampire tremble, his own breath catching in his throat.
“You shouldn’t!” Alfred whispered, dark eyes wide and round.
Same kind of background, there, he knew. Shirt-lifting equals bad. Sodomy equals damnation. But bloody hell, if buggery wasn’t one of the secret sins that was just so wicked and so bloody good at the same time.
“I know,” he heard himself reply breathlessly, his lips brushing Alfred’s, touching his jaw, his chin, his smooth cheeks. “S’bad…” He pressed his hips forward, watched the dark eyes squeeze closed. “S’wrong…”
The soft, desperate whimper that slipped from Alfred’s throat was beautiful, his hands clutching wildly at the bedding beneath him, as if he could pull himself away, as if he could break free. “No…” he gasped out.
“No?” Spike echoed the word without thought, his cock slipping against the other vampire’s taut backside. He lowered his lips to Alfred’s again, kissing him gently now, softly, luring him into returning the kiss, until the vampire was moaning against his lips and shivering against his cock.
“No…” he moaned again, as Spike slid one hand over his thigh, as his fingers closed around Alfred’s prick. A sound of wanting slipped from his throat and he turned his face aside, as if ashamed, pressing his white cheek against the pillow, tousled brown curls fanning out on the pale cloth, the profile of an angel touching damnation. “Oh…”
“Oh fucking hell…” Spike whispered, staring at him in rapt awe. His hair had slipped away from his bare throat and without though, Spike found himself lowering his head, kissing the tracks of veins beneath, his body slipping more intimately against Alfred’s, making him shiver.
From those barely parted lips, he heard the gasping whisper, “You shouldn’t…”
As his fangs broke through the young vampire’s skin - gently, so gently - Spike thrust his hips just so, breaching Alfred’s body, heard him cry out, heard him moan, felt him shudder from head to toe.
His own eyes squeezing shut, Spike slowly pushed his hips forward, surrounding himself with the delightful tightness of Alfred’s body, his tongue nursing the bite on Alfred’s throat, lapping, his uncalled for breath ragged against Alfred’s skin.
“Wickedness…” Alfred whimpered, his hands flexing and pressing against the sheets beneath him, though his body said otherwise, rising against Spike’s with a wantonness that was beautiful, tensing around him, making Spike’s eyes water and his throat tighten with sensation.
Tilting his head, he nuzzled Alfred’s knee where it hooked over his shoulder, anything to save him from looking at that intoxicatingly damned face and its pouting lips and dark, helpless, innocent eyes.
A hand touched the base of his spine suddenly, without warning, and Spike gasped, his hips leaping forward, drawing an echo from Alfred. Herbert’s hand, a fresh reminder that this sprawling cherub was not his only one in the room, caressed the length of his back, his trembling shivers repeated in Alfred, who uttered a plaintive sound of need and longing.
Slowly thrusting against Alfred, Spike’s head dropped forward as he felt cool palms skim over his hips, a ragged whisper of a gasp escaping him as lips touched between his shoulders, kissing the nape of his neck, caressing the vertebrae with swirls of a wicked and knowing tongue.
His face dropped to rest against Alfred’s throat, and he nuzzled the skin with a low moan as Herbert guided his hips in steady rhythmic thrusts, as that wandering mouth roamed lower, kissing the dimples at the base of his back.
One of Alfred’s hands untangled from the sheet, combing through his hair and lifting his head to claim breathless kisses and when he heard a faint whimper, he couldn’t be sure who voiced it.
Herbert’s fingers raked over his ribs, leaving red tracks in their wake, bruises in the morning, he knew, but all that was forgotten as he felt the sensuous flick of a tongue at the very base of his spine, a slow, pleasant lap tracing the line of his buttocks, making his hips leap against Alfred, who shuddered again.
Slowly, deliberately, Herbert’s lips and body moved up Spike’s back, the touch of a bare chest against his ribs, then shoulders, sending a thrill of anticipation though him. A kiss touched his nape and he felt Herbert’s thighs press against his, his hips just barely brushing against Spike’s backside.
“Have you any idea how beautiful you two are together, my darlings?” the whisper was little more than a breath, rippling strands of Spike’s hair against his cheek, but both Spike and Alfred trembled from the wicked intimacy.
Against Alfred’s tensed thigh, Spike felt Herbert’s hand brush over his, fleeting, a brief touch over the whiteness of his knuckles, almost as soft as the kiss that was placed on his shoulder.
“Herbert…” he murmured, tilting his head to receive a fond kiss at the corner of his lips, even as Alfred kissed the other side of his mouth, both vying for his attention, his mind reeling as he was caught between them.
Three pairs of lips met, clashed, tongues darting, teeth nipping eagerly, playfully, hungrily. Despite the wonderful distraction of the kiss, a groan escaped Spike, his eyes squeezing closed, as Herbert’s body shifted and he felt the familiar invasive pressure of his lover moving within him.
Alfred claimed the advantage, his tongue slipping between Spike’s gasping lips, leisurely laps matching the strokes of Herbert against him, thrusts which drove him against Alfred’s arching body.
By Spike’s shoulder, Herbert nipped Alfred’s calf in reprimand, drawing a hiss from the dark-haired young vampire, forcing him to relinquish Spike’s lips, the vampire caught between them dropping his brow to Alfred’s collarbone, faint, panting whines slipping from his throat.
Lips touched his ear, and he felt the light, teasing nip of teeth and the flicker of a quick tongue, sending ebbs of pleasure to add to the pressure already building within him. It only increased as Herbert’s fangs scraped the flesh of his shoulder, then lapped at the tiny beads of blood with a purr of lust so resonant that both Alfred and Spike trembled against one another.
Between them, a hand slipped under the tangle of limbs, Herbert’s fingertips brushing against Spike’s belly as he wound a hand around Alfred’s neglected prick, driving his hips sharply against Spike’s and making both the younger vampires moan aloud.
“Let me see you kiss him, William,” the whisper came a breath before another thrust.
Unable to stifle a moan, Spike tossed his head back, eyes glassy, but let his mouth drop back to Alfred’s. Such clumsy, dizzied kisses, he could not recall from anytime prior, but they were no less pleasant, his lips gashed open, his blood staining those pale, angelic lips crimson.
Alfred gave a little sigh which slipped into a groan, his thighs tensing against Spike’s chest as Herbert drove Spike’s body deeper into him, Herbert’s grasping hand squeezing, clenched against the plain of Spike’s belly. Against the taut muscle, Spike’s hands were trembling, squeezing, and he matched Alfred’s faint moan as Alfred sucked on his bleeding lip, his cock throbbing painfully with unsated desire.
“Good…” Herbert breathed, pressing his cheek against Spike’s, catching some of the smeared blood with a quick curl of his tongue. It brushed Alfred’s, between Alfred and Spike’s barely parted lips. Three pairs of bloodied lips met once more, briefly, heatedly, a trio of moans sounding as a deep, penetrating stroke made both Spike and Alfred arch up against him. “Good…” Herbert whispered again.
Spike pressed his cheek against Herbert’s, panting faintly, dizzily. “God…”
“Close,” Herbert murmured, brushing his cheek against Spike’s. “But I prefer my own name, cheri.” He drew his lips along the sharp jut of Spike’s cheekbone, to his ear and whispered, “I want to hear him, William… I want to hear him scream for you…” Spike shuddered, a panting breath escaping against Alfred’s trembling lips. “Taste him… make him yours…”
If there was a protest, it faded like mist. If there was a thought, it went out like a broken lightbulb.
One hand dropped from Alfred’s thigh to tangle in his hair, pulling his head to one side and he heard the faint whisper of ‘no’ before a savage stroke by Herbert thrust him as deeply as Alfred’s body would allow, and he bit, hard, deep, as Herbert’s hand clenched around Alfred’s cock.
No mortal could have withstood, and Spike would have sworn blind that no vampire could either.
With a sobbing cry that was like music to his ears, Alfred’s body tensed as his climax struck him, his neck arching against Spike’s mouth, his thighs tensing, his hands splaying and clutching wildly at the bedding.
His own body snared, motionless, trapped between the thrashing of Alfred and the steely force of Herbert, Spike felt every tremor shaking Alfred as if it were his own, his own breath little more than staggered panting, his hips desperate to move, but held motionless by Herbert’s body.
And then, those hips twitched against him.
Exquisite pleasure shot through senses that were already heightened to the point of humming, making him buck so forcefully that Alfred cried out again. The chuckle against his shoulder made him writhe and shiver almost as aggressively.
“Kinky sod…” he whimpered.
“Oui,” Herbert kissed his earlobe softly, gently. Then he thrust again. Spots of white exploded behind Spike’s eyes and he uttered a gasping curse, his fingers clutching at Alfred blindly, his mind stuttering to a halt.
Slowly, with an almost casual indolence, Herbert’s fangs cut into his throat, bringing him to the very brink of climax, but not quite there, holding him, teasing him, making him tremble from head to foot.
“Herbert…” He whispered it, little more than a shaking breath, his whole body and mind shivering with desperate need that he could find no words to express.
A kiss touched his bitten throat gently. “Ah, je t’adore, cheri,” Herbert sighed with such innate happiness that Spike quivered. Herbert’s hips shifted oh so slowly, then Spike felt the smile against his jaw. “Now.”
And a final, delightful stroke made his mind go white, and his body was washed away by the savage, wondrous tide of pleasure.
________________________
“And he did not object?”
Pausing mid-stroke with her brush, Dawn looked thoughtful for a moment. “Nah,” she replied, pushing the brushed section of her hair over her shoulder. “He did look kinda surprised but nope, no objections.” A faint grin tripped across her lips. “He was all kinds of purry for days.”
Dunking the sponge in the bath again, Sarah shook her head in quiet disbelief. “I would never dare such a thing,” she admitted, scooping up a bar of soap and lathering it generously against the sponge.
She was sitting in the huge, ornate tub, bubbles frothing over the edge, her half-pinned hair slipping free and clinging to her bare shoulders. The mark of von Krolock’s bite still adorned her skin, though the blood had been cleaned up.
Dawn stared at her. “Really? But you’re… kinda his… doesn’t that make him kinda yours too?”
Looking up from the sponge, Sarah shook her head vehemently. “I am his, yes, but I could never hope to claim him as mine,” she said. “He is my Maker, my lover, my all, but he is so much more than I can claim. I could not dare.”
Laying her brush down beside the mirror, Dawn was staring at her. “But you’ve been around for what? A hundred years? A hundred and twenty? And you never ever tried to bite him?”
“I never said I have not tried,” Sarah murmured, her eyes rising hesitantly to meet Dawn’s. The human girl was sitting on the vanity stool, several feet from the tub, wearing a large and overly fluffy dressing gown. “But I know of no one who has ever been permitted.”
Blinking mutely, Dawn stared at her. “But you… you’re vampires… that’s what you do. You bite…”
“Only if it is specifically permitted or if we have dominance,” Sarah replied, lowering her eyes and sponging at her neck and shoulders. There was silence for a few moments then the girl asked hesitantly, “You did not know this?”
Dawn slowly shook her head. “I… I just figured it was a thing, a claiming-thing that you did…” she said quietly, carefully. “I didn’t realize I was the only one who did it to him…” She looked up warily. “Was that wrong?”
Sarah stared at her then laughed, scooping a handful of warm water and flinging it the girl. “You silly thing!” she exclaimed, as Dawn squealed in protest. “If it was wrong, you would have known the instant you did it!”
“I would?”
Sarah looked like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “If it had displeased him, he would have been certain to let you know,” she said. “His displeasure is a terrible thing to arouse.”
Dawn swiped specks of water off her face. “So the whole purry and snuggly thing is good, right?
Dropping her sponge into the water, Sarah moved closer to the edge of the bath, folding her arms on the edge of the tub. “You have to ask?” she said, looking both amused and bewildered. “He did not cast you from his affections or leave you for days on end?”
“Uh… kinda no. He let me hug him in front of Spike and Herbert… what?”
Sarah had sunk into the bubbles with a groan, but rose up again, her hair in sodden strings around her face. “You truly have no idea of what this means?” she said. “I mean truly? You do not know that we are now all answerable to you as well as he?”
“Well, he said you would have to not kill me…”
“No,” Sarah interrupted, raising a bubbly and dripping hand. “No, we answer to you. None will dare touch you. None will question you. After the Graf and his son, you have authority over those of his bloodline.”
Blue eyes blinked. “Huh?”
“He has bitten you, has he not?” Dawn nodded slowly. “And you have bitten him without his wrath being turned upon you?” Again, she nodded. “Then he respects you enough to allow such a thing.” Sarah smiled faintly at her and only now did Dawn see the nervousness behind it. “Rare among vampires, yet even rarer for your kind.”
Dawn stared at her, a little dazed. “Huh.” she mumbled. “Cool.”
Sinking back into the middle of the bath, Sarah scooped up some bubbles and blew them into the air then she frowned. “Perhaps I should not have told you?” she said with a curious look in Dawn’s direction.
Dawn smiled weakly. “I guess someone had to,” she mumbled, then looked up, a knowing expression in her eyes. “Just like someone had to make a point about having other people he wants to be snuggly with, huh, baby?”
Sarah looked around, perplexed, then laughed aloud as von Krolock seemed to simply step out of thin air. “Good morning, Johannes,” she said with a warm smile.
His gaze drifted from one to the other, and there could be no mistaking the surprise and touch of pleasure that lit his eyes. “I did not expect to find you in such close quarters this morning,” he murmured.
The two girls exchanged looks, grinning.
“It was all your doing, I am afraid,” Sarah said, sliding to the edge of the bath and resting her chin on her crossed arms, bubbles and water glistening on her pale skin.
“Oh?”
“Mm,” Dawn agreed, crossing her legs at the knee with mock demureness. “After you’ve shared one hell of an experience with someone, it does make it kinda hard to be embarrassed around them. Or mad at them.”
A steel-grey brow arched. “One would suppose…” he murmured, then looked down at Sarah. “Your room is prepared for you, dear one. If you wish to…”
“Ahem?” Dawn rose from her seat. “We’re doing girly-stuff here.” She ignored the look of incredulity that briefly flickered across his face. “We’re talking and I think I have make-up and hair-things somewhere too. You can’t interrupt girl-stuff.”
Sarah shrugged helplessly up at him. “It is so, I am afraid,” she admitted, though she was smiling. “She has vowed that she will give me a makeover.”
“And I haven’t had a proper girl to talk to for ever,” Dawn added, slipping a hand into her pocket and withdrawing a small, plastic water pistol. “And no guy, not even you, is gonna interrupt girly-stuff with my new best friend.”
His eyes dropped to the small plastic weapon, then returned to her face. “Holy water, I presume,” he murmured.
“Even if it isn’t,” Dawn replied with a broad grin. “You’re wearing way expensive silk and I bet you wouldn’t want that crinkly.” Black eyes held blue for a moment, steadily, warmly. “C’mon, Johannes. You left her with me. I wanna get to know her.”
There was a moment of stillness, which could have lead them in either direction, depending on their shared lover’s mood.
“I think, then, that I have no choice,” he replied with an elegant bow of his head. A warm look was directed at Sarah. “My apologies for intruding upon these feminine matters, my dears.” He looked down at Dawn. “I shall see you later.”
“I bet you will,” Dawn smiled up at him sweetly and was abruptly pulled into a brief and hard kiss, stumbling back a step when he released her. With a gesture of one hand, he was gone, and Dawn sighed. “God, I love it when he’s growly.”
Sarah had a hand clapped over her mouth and looked between giggling and staring in shock. “Have you no fear of him at all?” she squeaked.
“Of Johannes?” Dawn made a face, slipping her pistol into her pocket. “Hell, no. I’ve met a Hell Goddess and seen a whole bunch of apocalypses. Never met a vampire who scared me properly since I was ten years old.”
Sarah lowered her hand, though her eyebrows rose. “So young and yet, you survived?”
“There’s a whole big thing where my sisters the Slayer,” Dawn said with a shrug, as if unaware of the look of shock on Sarah’s face. “And he was a sucky vampire anyway. He was trying to be so badass, but he didn’t kill more than one of us.”
“And your sister, this Slayer, she killed him?”
Dawn frowned, sitting back on her stool. “Kinda, I think,” she replied. “Then he came back, somehow, and was good again, then he left again.” She reached out and grabbed a make-up bag, rooting through it. “He was okay, but god, he brooded and moped a lot.”
“You say he was… good?”
“Saving puppies and everything.” Dawn didn’t look up, glaring at the absence of a bottle of nail varnish and making a note to go after Spike later. “Hey!” She looked up. “Maybe you knew him, if you’re the same age as Spike!”
“Perhaps,” Sarah said carefully. “What was his name?”
“Angelus,” Dawn replied, successfully navigating tweezers from the bottom of her bag. “Or Angel. Big guy, dark hair and overhanging forehead.” Sarah said nothing and Dawn blinked at her expression. “So… you… uh… knew him, then?”
Sarah nodded. “Briefly,” she murmured. “And that was enough.”
Dropping her sponge in the tub, she stood up and Dawn squealed, clapping her hands over her eyes. “No nakedness so early in the morning!” she exclaimed.
Sarah’s dark mood dissolved in a burst of laughter. “After what you saw last night?”
“Yes!” Dawn squeaked. “Until I have seen naked man, I would prefer to see no nakedness at all!”
Sarah sighed woefully. “Very well,” she said. She stepped out of the bath, wet feet pressing moistly to the polished floor. There was a rustle of cloth. “Very well, I am clothed now.” Dawn lowered her hands then yelped and replaced them as Sarah started to laugh. “What?”
“You are evil!” Dawn exclaimed.
Patting Dawn on the head, Sarah laughed. “One day, you will learn that sooner.”
______________________________
Three days since Alfred had showed up.
Ten minutes less than that since they had managed to reach the bedroom.
Two and a half days since, somehow, by batting his ridiculously long eyelashes and innocently imploring with pouty lips and timid whispers, Alfred had persuaded Spike to let himself be shackled up.
Yeah, that was only after Alfred had been in the chains first, Spike at his back and Herbert on his knees before him at the edge of the bed, so technically Spike had really had no reason to be suspicious.
Really.
Bloody stupid mistake, that.
His arms stretched until they ached, he was still half-kneeling, half-sitting in the pile of pillows, glaring pointedly at the pair of vampires who were sprawled together on the bedding, kissing one another.
On and off, for hours, they had been at it right in front of him, but he wasn’t getting a single touch out of either of them. Was a bit like watching the best porn ever made, and then not being able to wank.
No, that was exactly what it was.
Gits.
Herbert had slipped out briefly, occasionally, bringing back blood and letting Spike drink, but never unchained him, never said why he was being kept pinned back against the headboard, didn’t even touch him them.
Spike wanted to snarl at him, kick him and swear at him but in one of their breaks, he had managed to gather his scattered thoughts together enough to realize exactly what Herbie was up to. Or, at least, he guessed that it was all coming back to that one time he had dared to chain Herbie up for his own good.
The bastard didn’t forgive and forget, apparently, and when he got his revenge, he did it in spades.
Now, both Herbert and Alfred were tangled together in front of him, Herbert’s body almost blotting out Alfred’s slighter one against the white sheets, his golden hair slipping over his shoulders and mingling with Alfred’s darker curls.
Alfred still made token protests as Herbert’s lips escaped his, journeying over jaw, collarbone, chest, belly, lower still, until the dark-haired vampire’s body was arched so beautifully, his desperate little gasps echoing back, those bloody lashes fluttering against his cheekbones.
Biting the inside of his lip, Spike stifled a sound of want.
Bloody Herbert was a bloody evil bloody bastard of bloody epic proportions.
He had tried, some time during the previous day, to close his eyes and ignore what they were doing. It had worked as long as he ignored the scent. And then, Herbert had noticed and started to whisper a commentary of exactly what he was doing to dear, darling, panting, quivering, begging Alfred, touch for touch, gesture for explicit purred gesture.
Even more than the seeing, that had made Spike’s body tense up with hunger.
And he’d left him dangling in the chains again, like he was now.
How many times they were going to get him off just by playing to him, he didn’t know. It was getting a bit bloody embarrassing and all, because they were so bloody good together, and Herbert knew exactly how to make Alfred whimper in a way that made Spike shudder and groan and come all over the place.
Bloody embarrassing.
Tumbled onto his belly, half-kneeling, his face burying in his arms, Alfred moaned softly, a combination of longing, shame and desire, and Spike tasted blood as his teeth broke through his lower lip. Not again.
That tousled, dark head was less than an arm’s length from his knee, the spine curving enticingly away from him, his own eyes fixed on Herbert as his lover slowly - and smiling all the while - kissed and lapped his way down the length of Alfred’s back.
“You’re a sodding bastard…” Spike’s whisper was raw and dry, his arms tensing against the chains as he watched those familiar lips touch between the pointed shoulder blades. It had been said before, and he knew it would be said again.
Herbert only laughed, softly, fondly, as if indulging a child. “I know, cheri,” he said, grey eyes snaring blue for the first time in hours, acknowledging him as he reached beneath Alfred’s upraised hips. Alfred gasped and Spike stifled its echo, chewing on his lower lip with such ferocity he wondered if there would be any flesh left at all by the time he was undone.
With a brief, sweet smile, Herbert slowly started kissing his way back down Alfred’s spine, making him tremble and shiver. With his other hand pressing to Alfred’s hip, Herbert lowered his head and traced the line of the younger vampire’s tensed buttocks with his tongue.
The memory of what that devilish tongue was capable of made Spike’s insides tense up pleasantly, and his body pressed back against the headboard as he tried to force down the insatiable hunger Herbert constantly managed to draw out of him.
With a soft moan that was utterly wanton in texture, Alfred squirmed against Herbert’s lips, his hands sinking into the bedding beneath him, knuckles white, his brow pressing against his folded forearms.
Herbert’s body shifted and slipped up to allow his lips to wander back up Alfred’s spine once more, lingering over bites, love bites, bruises and scratches left from the previous two nights, nothing deep, nothing damaging, all making that vulnerable, delicate little body all the more tantalizing.
When he reached the nape of Alfred’s neck, he nuzzled the dark curls aside and raked his fangs across the boy’s neck, making him arch and shudder. Herbert murmured something that Spike couldn’t quite make out, didn’t really care if he made out, his blue eyes locked on his lover as Herbert’s body slipped intimately against Alfred’s again.
Alfred’s hips rocked and he moaned again, but now, he started to lift his face from his arms and Spike found his eyes drawn down magnetically as the pale face beneath the dark curls became visible once more.
Through a thick fringe of lashes, Alfred’s dark eyes met his, utterly sinful, and slowly, his lips curved in a smile that seemed out of place on such angelic features.
Spike gaped at him, blinking.
Then it was gone and those dark eyes pressed closed as Herbert shifted his hand. Spike looked away, shaking his head. What the hell…? Had to be seeing things. Too much sex and not enough happening to him. That’s what it had to be.
He felt the bedding shift, didn’t look around, didn’t want to see proof that he was cracking, when lips brushed his knee.
That made him look around.
Directed forward, raising himself on his forearms, Alfred nuzzled his way up Spike’s thigh. Blue eyes were wide, and Spike felt himself trembling wildly as Alfred leaned forward and carefully, delicately lapped the crease of hip and groin.
“Oh God…”
A soft laugh from Herbert made his eyes snap up to the eldest vampire, who was lazily moving his hips against Alfred’s, not quite penetrating, while one hand - out of sight - was shifting, grasping, teasing.
“Darling,” he whispered to Spike, sliding his other hand up to comb through Alfred’s hair as those lips moved, making Spike shiver. “When will you learn that he will never listen to you?”
That didn’t stop Spike calling out again when Alfred’s lips closed around his painfully-throbbing prick, making his hips jerk as tongue, teeth and lips accosted him in ways that made his eyes roll back and his chains rattle.
When Alfred groaned around him, Spike’s teeth split his lower lip open again, his head banging back against the headboard. He knew his knees would have buckled if he had been standing.
“Fuck…” he moaned, hips shifting, a whimpered gasp escaping him as Alfred took almost his full length between his lips, the dark curls of the vampire’s hair tickling against Spike’s belly.
“Soon,” Herbert whispered a moment before his lips caught Spike’s, the hand that had been so recently tangled in Alfred’s hair pulling Spike’s head forward, his tongue delving greedily between Spike’s lips as he pushed himself into Alfred’s body.
A throaty groan from Alfred made Spike tremble and moan against Herbert’s mouth, his hips quivering, his body desperate for some kind of completion.
Letting his hand slip to Spike’s throat, Herbert’s nails raked against the healing bite-marks that had been opened two nights earlier. Fresh blood welled up and Spike uttered a gasping whine, his eyes pressing shut.
Drawing his lips from Spike’s, Herbert nuzzled his cheek softly. “You,” he whispered, sinking his nails into the bite, wonderful pain blooming through Spike’s body. “Are mine, William.”
Then his lips were claimed as his body was, and under the hands and loving guidance of Herbert and the tantalizing touches of Alfred, Spike felt himself go to pieces.
Part 2
RATING: 18
FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series & Tanz der Vampire
SPOILERS: Buffy S1-7, Angel S1-5.
SUMMARY: When some old friends come to visit, Dawn and Spike both have some interesting experiences of the vampire culture surrounding the von Krolocks.
SERIES: Part of Carpe Noctem series.
In order: As Aught of Mortal Birth, Per Ipsum, et cum Ipso, et in Ipso, Til The Moon Is Abed, Unwritten Words, What Remains, The Gentler Sex, Visitation, After the Storm, In The Name Of and In The Air and Makes Us Stronger, then this chapter.
PAIRINGS: Spike/Herbert, Spike/Alfred, Herbert/Spike/Alfred, Dawn/von Krolock, Sarah/von Krolock, Dawn&Sarah/von Krolock
WORDS: 12230
NOTES: This is a chapter of firsts for me. I've never written a threesome on my own before. More than that, I have never written a graphic slashy threesome before. And then, make that graphic slashy threesome include bondage and bloodplay and wahey! Novelties abound!
__________________________________
Sprawled on her belly on the bed, Dawn laughed. “Oh, it is amazing!” she exclaimed down the phone. “And guess what! I have a turret! Yeah! One of those towery things with the round rooms and windows and I can see everything!”
It had been two weeks since they had moved from the manor to the castle, and only now had all the cables and phone connections been reconnected. Herbert had been outraged and had stormed into town under the cover of day-time storms the previous week to rant and rail at the companies.
Funnily enough, what was meant to take nearly three months suddenly happened, almost overnight.
“I am too good enough to be a Princess!” Rolling onto her back, propping her feet up on the pile of pillows, Dawn laughed. “You’re just jealous because you’re sharing a room again!”
“Can’t ever be as tight as your house,” the voice on the other end said. “I don’t get how public safety didn’t notice arms and legs sticking out the windows!”
On the other end of the line was one of the other survivors of Sunnydale, a Slayer by the name of Rona who had stuck with the other survivors, even helping out the Slayer training school for a few months, before heading back to the States.
She’d found a handful of other girls thanks to Willow and set up a mini-school for the East Coast Slayers. It was discreet, posing as a martial arts centre and based in a warehouse that Rona had made her home.
It wasn’t much, definitely not compared to the huge Slayer academy that Buffy had set up with Vittorio’s backing in Italy, but it had room to eat, sleep and train in, and with runaways arriving by the day, it was building up a force to be reckoned with.
“Could have been worse,” Dawn noted, trying not to grin. “At least we didn’t have to share with Kennedy and Willow.” She could almost hear the shudder on the other end of the line. “Hey! They weren’t that bad!”
“Says the girl who didn’t walk in on them! I saw more of Kennedy than I ever wanted to!”
Clapping a hand over her face, Dawn tried not to laugh. “You coulda knocked!”
“Puh-lease! Like they would have even heard me!” Rona retorted.
“Yeah,” Dawn snickered. “They do get kinda... involved.”
“In the ‘only two people in the world so sure, no one’ll notice if I eat yo...”
“Rona!” Dawn squealed.
“Girl, you know it’s true!” Rona laughed. “If they could have done it in every room, I bet they would have!” The laugh was replaced by a softer chuckle. “Still kinda miss having them around...”
Rolling back onto her belly, Dawn nodded. “Yeah,” she mumbled. “It does get kind of weird not having all the girls around anymore.” She made a face. “Now, I’m living with boys.”
“Undead boys,” Rona reminded her, a touch of reproof in her voice, but Dawn knew it was just habitual.
Of all the people she kept in touch with, Rona was the one she told everything to, even over Buffy. Rona was the one who knew about what was going on, about the way Johannes treated her, about how weirdly at home she was.
Maybe it was because she’d been in the Hellmouth that day, maybe it was because they had survived and seen things that no human was meant to see, but there was no real judgement or criticism from the Slayer.
Even Faith hadn’t criticised her.
Buffy had been the only one, and that was a sister-thing.
Once you’d seen Hell, fought there and lived through it, things that had seemed bad didn’t seem quite as bad anymore.
“You gotta come visit,” she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. “We’ve got a ton of room here, and I bet Herbert would wanna freak out another Slayer!”
“After he attacked Buffy?” Rona sounded dubious.
Dawn pulled a face at the wide mirror on the opposite side of the room. “There was backstory and it was boring and sappy,” she said. “They promised not to kick each other’s asses again. He was totally fine with Faith.” She made another face. “More than totally fine, actually... they are creepily like each other.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“You still there?”
“You said Herbert is a tall, blond and pretty-boy vampire?”
“Yuh-huh?”
There was another silence, shorter this time. “And Faith is like him how?”
Dawn grinned, picking at her blanket. “They think exactly the same way,” she replied and could mentally see the horrified look creeping across Rona’s dark face. “I mean totally.”
“Y’know, girl, I saw Hell. I thought that was bad...”
Dawn started to laugh. “You gotta come and visit!” she repeated. “It’s been way too long since I saw you, and you have to meet Herbert!”
“Maybe next year?” Rona suggested. “Way I got it figured, Vi’ll be visiting here on her way back from Colorado and we can both come and crash for a few days after we go see Buffy. That okay?”
Dawn squealed, flipping onto her back. “Yes! You guys are gonna love the castle! And it’ll be all snowy and...” She trailed off as she became aware that dark eyes were gazing down at her and she saw the amusement curl Johannes’s lips.
“And your snuggle-vamp won’t mind two Slayers?”
“Uh...” Dawn shivered as he leaned over her, his hands braced on either side of her head, and his lips brushed the silk collar around her throat. His hair whispered against her cheeks and the phone fell from her hand, onto the cover.
“Dawn? Dawn, you there?”
One hand that had touched her, slipping down her side, brushing beneath her breasts and skating over her ribs drifted away. Lifting the phone, the Graf murmured, “Miss Summers is otherwise occupied. She will call you again.”
There was a faint beep as the phone was disconnected.
“Coulda just asked,” she whispered as he brought his lips to hers.
His kisses were soft, teasing, making her try and rise as readily as his roaming hands made her arch beneath him. “I could have,” he agreed, eyes gleaming. “But where would the pleasure be in that?”
Sinking her hands into his hair, she sighed against his lips. “Meanie.”
“Naturally,” he laughed softly. His hand slipped beneath the warm woollen sweater she was wearing, and she shivered, her eyes fluttering shut. And he claimed her mouth, pulling her to him.
________________________________
“Darlings!” Racing down the curve of the staircase, taking three at a time, Herbert launched himself at the two new arrivals standing at the foot. The girl uttered a shout of laughter as her companion was tackled warmly.
Halfway down from the top landing, Spike peered over the railing, brows rising skywards at the sight of Herbert embracing what looked like a limp body. “Er... Herbie, did you break him already?”
His arms around the figure’s waist, Herbert frowned and gave the male vampire a firm shake. “Now, darling,” he chastised gravely. “You know that going limp didn’t work last time you bothered to visit.”
“I’m sure you say that to all your guests, Herbert,” the girl noted.
Spike snorted, wandering down the remainder of the stairs. “Only the pretty boys,” he said, receiving a glance, arched eyebrow, then a broad smile from the young woman. “Sarah, innit?”
“It has been some time,” she replied. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
Spike shot an amused look at his lover, who had succeeded in getting the male vampire upright, only for his legs to loll under him, making it impossible for Herbert to get a decent grip.
“Unlike Herbie,” he said, offering her a hand. “I look both ways before crossing.”
Sarah laughed, slipping her hand into his, shaking it firmly. “And you are... Spike, are you not?”
“William!” Herbert corrected, then adjusted the position of his arms. The other vampire squealed suddenly and loudly, shot upright and leapt away from Herbert as if he had been electrocuted. “Ah! You see! It didn’t work this time, either.”
Staggering upright, using one of the decorative wall hangings to straighten up, the vampire pulled a face. “One day, you are going to get tired of accosting me,” he said, a notable pout on his lips.
“And, until that day...” Herbert grinned like a cat.
With a frustrated sigh, the vampire crossed his arms over his chest. “Why do you insist that we come here?” he demanded of Sarah, a wounded tone in his voice. “Why do you delight in making me suffer?”
“Don’t worry, mate,” Spike said, grinning. “You’re not the only bugger to get picked on around here.”
Dark brown eyes darted from Herbert to him, then on to Sarah.
“Do you remember William, Alfred?” Sarah prompted.
Alfred regarded him, brows drawing together. “Yes,” he said after a few moments, his expression suddenly much more serious. “I remember. You were the companion of Angelus.”
Spike winced. Oh yeah. That was why the pretty little sod looked familiar. “Ah... yeah... yeah, I was...”
Apparently, Herbert disapproved of the change of mood, flinging one arm around Spike’s shoulders and the other around Alfred’s, pulling them close against him. “He was, my pretty darling,” he said firmly. “But he isn’t anymore and we...” He paused and kissed each of them with a ferocity that didn’t quite match his languid motions, his palms cupping their skulls easily. “Are all going to be the very dearest of friends.”
“Do these dearest friends have a choice?” Sarah asked, trying to hide a smile.
Herbert looked up from kissing the feebly-struggling Alfred again, then beamed happily. “Not at all,” he said cheerfully, firmly nipping Alfred’s lower lip when he started to protest.
“Oi...” Spike gave Herbert’s waist a pinch.
Herbert turned on him, kissing him fiercely, then - with a giggle - licked the tip of his nose. “Well, darling, it is something I have longed to try for quite some time, you know,” he said, batting his lashes so innocently that Spike snorted.
“What is...?” Alfred inquired warily, though it looked like he knew better than trying to escape.
“Oh, my darling William knows...” Grey eyes held blue, Herbert’s lips slowly and devilishly curving. “Don’t you, cheri?”
Spike stared at Herbert. “I thought you were joking, you kinky sod!”
“Now, my silly darling,” Herbert sighed heavily, as if he had just been asked a very foolish question. “I fear you should know me well enough to know that I would never, ever joke about such things.”
Sarah was giggling helplessly, her hands clapped over her mouth as Spike looked first at Herbert, then past him at the nervous-looking Alfred. He was pretty sure he probably looked just as boggled himself.
“Herbie, look at him...”
A feline purr seemed to be undercutting Herbert’s voice, as he turned and regarded Alfred and murmured, “Oh, I have. Often and eagerly.”
“Er...?” Alfred offered weakly.
“Herbie...”
“Shush, William,” A kiss was dropped on the end of Spike’s nose. “Now,” Grey eyes returned to the freshly-arrived prey. “Alfred, my dearest little cherub, would you care to join us for a poetry reading?”
Spike almost winced as Alfred seemed to relax. Of course, the next instant, the suspicion that Herbert could arouse in anyone was back.
“What kind of poetry reading?” he asked.
Herbert smiled without showing any teeth, gazing at the sandy-haired young vampire through his pale lashes. “Oh, the usual kind,” he said with a happy little sigh. “There is nothing quite as appealing...”
“But you have Sp... William...” Alfred protested.
“And now,” Herbert leaned closer to kiss Alfred’s stuttering lips lightly. “I have you as well, darling.” He looked over at Sarah, who looked like she was trying her utmost not to laugh out loud. “May I?”
“Oh, as you like,” she replied, grinning. “I have business with your father.”
Blue eyes and grey both went round, Spike looking wildly at Herbert, who was suddenly shaking with compressed mirth as fiercely as Sarah had been. “Herbie, don’t you think we...”
“We should show darling Alfred to our rooms!” Herbert interrupted, grinning like the devil himself. “I’m sure my father will be most delighted to see you, Sarah.” He turned, hauling the younger vampires with him. “Come along, my beautiful darlings. We have much to do.”
“But I don’t want to get in the way!” Alfred exclaimed as he was half-dragged, half-guided up the staircase. “I mean, if you want to spend time with your...”
“Darling, I have other plans for you... and him...” He dipped his head down and whispered something to Alfred which made the young vampire squeak and fall silent, throwing pleading looks back at Sarah.
“Oh, Herbert!” she called. Alfred looked relieved. “Make sure he comes to me in one piece, thank you.”
Spike couldn’t help it. He laughed aloud, in spite of all intentions otherwise. So, they were all bent on breaking the boy? Right. He could do that too. “So...” He glanced up at Herbert. “Your bed big enough?”
“We will find out, darling,” Herbert said happily, kissing him fondly then looking down at the other vampire. “And don’t look so upset, Alfred. We are protecting you from greater evils.”
“Greater than you?” Alfred’s brown eyes rose and he was pouting again. Spike grinned. He could see what Herbert saw in the boy. Didn’t fight much, but knew how to act it right enough. “Is that possible?”
Leaning around Herbert, Spike caught Alfred’s chin and kissed him, briefly, softly, making him take a startled breath, almost luring him in responding. “Possible?” he said, blue eyes gleaming wickedly. “Oh yeah.”
Herbert beamed delightedly at the wide-eyed look on Alfred’s face. “This is my darling,” he said happily, hugging Spike tightly. “Oh, we are all going to have so much fun!”
____________________________
In the upper drawing room, close to the library, Dawn had been seated on a cushion at Johannes’ feet, reading when she had felt his mood change. His fingers had been combing through her hair, his own attention on a book in his lap, when he had gone rigid and she had looked up. His eyes closed, he had drawn a slow breath then begun to smile.
“Johannes?”
“We have guests,” he murmured, dragging his hand down the nape of her neck. The book he was reading was laid aside and he rose. An elegant hand was offered to her and she scrambled to her feet, smoothing down her pants as the door open.
A woman stepped into the room. Brown hair was pinned up elegantly, with elaborate curls twirling against her cheeks, her clothing richly coloured and clearly from an expensive line.
She looked no older than Dawn herself, but she was as pale as death, although her eyes were alight and she was beaming as she ran across the room and threw herself into von Krolock’s arms.
Huh.
“Ah, Sarah,” Johannes murmured, his arms fitting around her as if they were meant to be there. And then, as Dawn stared with more than a little bit of indignation, there was kissing, and definitely not in the ‘nice to see you in a totally platonic way’ either.
Von Krolock’s palms slid down the girl’s back, drawing her closer to him, and she didn’t look like she was about to come up for air any time soon.
“A-hem?”
With great reluctance, the girl drew back and looked at her. Her eyes, too light to be brown, too dark to be gold, flicked over Dawn as she smoothed her palms against von Krolock’s chest. “A mortal, Johannes?” she inquired.
The Graf unfolded one arm and offered a hand, which Dawn claimed more quickly than she otherwise might have. He drew her closer. “Sarah, this is Dawn,” he said softly. “Liebling, this is Sarah.”
Ah. Figured. Herbert had told her tales about that Sarah when he figured she was too crazy with flu to remember anything. One of Johannes’ old girlfriends who always came back at least once every decade.
Those golden-brown eyes flicked over her again, and Dawn knew that kind of look. It was a challenge, a testing jab to her emotional defences, to see exactly how she would react, to see what it would take to make her crack.
“Herbert told me about you,” she said as sweetly as she could. “How’s Alfred?”
“Quite happily occupied, I believe,” Sarah countered, equally pleasantly. “I trust I did not intrude on anything of importance?”
Blue eyes flashed briefly. “Oh, no,” Dawn said with a warm smile. “Johannes and I were just reading.” She stepped that little bit closer, deliberately brushing her fingers against Johannes’ knuckles. “For now.”
“Ah...” Sarah looked up at Johannes and Dawn saw he was looking between them, undeniable affection on his face for both of them. “I was wondering if I might have a little of your time, Johannes?”
“But of course,” he murmured, stroking her hip.
Dawn watched his hand move, watched the way he looked at the other girl, felt a flare of anger so hot, so bitter that it almost took her breath away.
“Don’t forget who it was that bit you, honey,” she said coldly, yanking her hand free from Johannes’. She saw Sarah’s surprise, then felt the hand at the back of her neck, twisting into her hair, her face turned up to her lover’s thunderous one. Glaring back at him, she clenched her jaw against the sound of pain.
“You dare speak thus?” he barely whispered it, but it made her flinch from the power lacing every word.
Drawing several breaths, grimacing, she glowered at him. “You’re gonna leave me and go do the horizontal mambo with some other girl,” she growled the words out. “I think I got the right to say what I like.”
His lips drew back from his teeth and he bent over her, bringing his face close to hers. “This is my house, little one,” he whispered, low and deadly. “Sarah is mine as you are mine, and if I choose to take her, if I choose to take any other, I will, whether it is your will or not.”
Any other time, any other place, she might have cried at that. Her eyes were stinging and she knew there was enough wussy girl in her to get upset, but not here, not in front of him, not in front of her.
“You,” she hissed, “Are mine.”
Something flickered in his gaze, something feral, something that was pure emotion, something she recognised from that night, from that place, from that moment of exquisite and terrifying pleasure.
His kiss was sudden, violent and she was flung back against the wall by the force of it, his hands snaring her wrists, pinning them to the wall by her side. “I am,” he all but growled against her mouth. “As is she and any other I have.”
Then don’t touch her, Dawn wanted to cry out, staring at him. Don’t do anything to her. Do it to me! Look at me like you were looking at her! Make me feel like you want to make her feel!
Black eyes bored into hers, searching hers, making her tremble with the sheer force behind them, then his lips claimed hers and she felt him stirring her blood, making her shiver from head to toe with want.
Then he pulled back from her, gazing at her.
“Johannes...” she whispered, unable to move.
Not looking away from her, never looking away, he made a gesture over his shoulder and Sarah came closer. She was shivering as much as Dawn was, her eyes even darker and her lower lip caught between her teeth.
“You wish to feel what she would feel?” he challenged softly, laying his hand on Sarah’s shoulder, drawing her around to stand before him. “She who is mine and who will always be mine?”
Blue eyes met gold-brown, saw the same wild wariness, uncertainty, but not without the first hints of desire.
Bowing his head, Johannes laid a kiss on Sarah’s throat, watching Dawn through his lashes, and she felt it as if it had been her throat, her gasp echoing Sarah’s, her hands quivering by her sides.
Pale hands slid over Sarah’s hips and Dawn’s own shivered in response, her breath catching in her throat, her tongue darting against her lower lip. “Don’t...” she heard herself whisper.
Maybe it went unheard, maybe it was ignored, but Sarah’s hands covered his and drew them against her, one splaying low on her belly, lower still. His kisses traced her throat, one side, then the other.
Dawn pressed the back of her head against the wall behind her, trying to ignore the cool, invisible caresses on her skin, trying to ignore the kisses, trying to ignore the quiet gasps that might have been hers or might have been the vampire girl’s.
“Dawn...” Sarah’s voice was dazed, as if nudged by another, dizzied.
Blue eyes broke open, were caught by gold for less than a heartbeat, then slipped to black, watching, gleaming, wanting, making her hips shift and tremble.
Before her, Sarah’s wine-red blouse was opened by unnoticed touches, but it was Dawn who moaned aloud when one hand slid beneath the fabric, her back arching against the unseen palm.
The other hand moved lightly, softly, then intimately, cupping Sarah’s sex through the front of her dark trousers and both girls cried out as one, Sarah’s head falling back against von Krolock’s shoulder as Dawn shivered back against the wall.
Slowly, irresistibly, as if drawn by some power - and, knowing Johannes, that was probably about right - Dawn’s eyes followed the casual movement of that pale hand against the fabric of Sarah’s pants, saw the buttons twisted undone, one by one, so slowly, so leisurely, making her whimper with anticipation as pale skin was revealed inch by inch.
Kissing Sarah’s earlobe and murmuring something that rippled across Dawn’s senses like silk, von Krolock’s smile was palpable against their throats as the hand slipped beneath dark cloth, and Dawn uttered a shrill cry at the intimate stroke of a cool finger against the heat of her skin.
She saw Sarah’s eyes fly open, heard her stifle a cry as well, wondered if she could be feeling it as intensely. Then forgot entirely as two fingers slipped against her, teasing, nails dragging, catching, making her hips jerk, making her whine.
Fangs scraped the skin of her throat, a sensation she had not felt since the tattoo. His lips followed them, and she shivered for another reason entirely at that. Never on her throat, never like that.
Sarah arched with a whine and Dawn matched it as she felt the familiar press within her body.
“Is this what you wanted to feel?” The whisper touched Sarah’s ear softly and Dawn choked back a moan as she pressed against the invisible fingers. “Is this what you desired? That you feel what she would?”
Quivering with need, Dawn forced her eyes to his. “You cheat,” she whispered, saw that flare of emotion, that remembrance and, for the first time, she felt the delicious agony of his fangs tearing into her throat.
Simultaneously, she and Sarah screamed out, the erotic pain and agonised pleasure combining into a climax more powerful than anything she had experienced before, leaving her sagged in invisible bonds against the wall.
Her heart was racing, more of a buzz than a beat, and she closed her eyes, trying to gather her breath, trying to resist the urge to brush the ticklish trickle of blood from her neck, trying to... to...
A hand touched her cheek. Real? Not?
Squinting, she looked up, panting, found him smiling.
“Cheat,” she repeated in a breathless whisper as he brought his lips against hers, the world fading around them, shapes melting away, changing, until she recognised the walls of her own room, felt her bed beneath her.
Drawing back, von Krolock rose, standing by the bed, gazing at her, then beside her.
Shifting, Dawn exhaustedly tilted her head, blinked at the sight of Sarah spilled out on the sheets beside her, looking just as pleasantly dazed as she felt. “Huh…” Her gaze drifted back to her lover’s questioningly.
“I am afraid Sarah’s room is unprepared.” Von Krolock’s voice was soft. “She will remain here until it is.”
“Do I get a choice?” Dawn mumbled drowsily, but what irritation she might have felt was surpassed by the pleasant warmth that still throbbed through her with every beat of her racing heart.
Von Krolock smiled slightly in response, then was gone.
Sighing, Dawn closed her eyes. “You try and eat me when I’m sleeping,” she mumbled. “I kick your ass, k?”
From the other side of the bed, there was silence for a moment.
“Did you truly bite him?”
One eye opening tiredly, Dawn found the female vampire staring at her with no small amount of wary curiosity. Her mouth curled up. “Yeah,” she murmured. “That was a good night.”
Sarah nodded, looking up at the canopy. “I see.” Gold-brown eyes slanted towards her carefully. “You will not stake me while I sleep?”
Dawn grinned. “Nah,” she mumbled, reaching out and idly patting the vampire’s cool hand. “Don’t like dust on the sheets.”
__________________________
Steered through the door of Herbert’s room, Spike felt the touch of Herbert’s lips, the breath of a suggestion as he was gently nudged forward. He half-turned to find Alfred staring at him with no small measure of trepidation.
“Come, darling,” Herbert purred, pushing Alfred forward, watching Spike with a predatory curl to his lips.
Spike felt a tremor of hunger at the look in his lover’s eyes, reaching out blindly to touch Alfred’s cheek. The young vampire shied back, edging sideway, trying to escape from between Spike and his golden-haired lover.
“Alfred,” Herbert caught his wrist, drawing him back, trapping him between them. A kiss brushed across Alfred’s lips, and Spike licked his own lips, shifting from one foot to the other. Grey eyes flicked up. “William…”
A kiss was claimed and another, drawing him closer. His eyes falling closed, Spike reached out to touch Herbert. Alfred’s body was pressed between them and Spike felt the touch of Alfred’s hands, pressing against his ribs.
Herbert’s hand threaded through Spike’s hair and Alfred shuddered pleasantly between them, his hips shifting. Spike sighed faintly against the lips brushing his, felt the flicker of a tongue against his, something not quite familiar but too pleasant to distract himself with.
Alfred’s hands moved slowly against his sides and Spike felt his own hand sliding up the young vampire’s arm, feeling every crease in the heavy fabric of his coat.
“Beautiful…” Herbert whispered.
Blue eyes snapped open to find Alfred’s dark brown eyes gazing back at him, then lowering bashfully. Grey eyes gleamed over Alfred’s shoulder, Herbert’s lips brushing against Alfred’s throat.
“Git…” Spike whispered, before kissing Alfred again.
Somehow, they were moved, shifted, turned under Herbert’s guiding hands, until he was suddenly gone, leaving Spike and Alfred clutching at one another in the sudden absence of supporting touches.
Jerking back as if burnt, Alfred looked suddenly and delightfully timid, his hands clasped in front of him as he back away another step. And as suddenly, Spike felt that ripple of demanding hunger at one so vulnerable, so hesitant.
He stepped closer, his every step matched by Alfred’s tentative retreat, the dark brown eyes staring at him, watching, backing away until his knees bumped against the edge of Herbert’s bed, his arms unfolding to prevent him from falling.
Catching Alfred’s hands, Spike pulled him forward, claimed his lips hard and fast.
With a faint whimper against Spike’s lips, Alfred’s body pressed against him, as if shying away from the nearness of the bed. One of his hands released, he clutched at Spike’s shoulder, opening his mouth to protest only to be kissed more intensely.
Tugging at Alfred’s coat, throwing it to one side, Spike started to pull at Alfred’s shirt as Alfred’s hand slid up the back of his neck, as he started to respond to the kiss. The shirt tore in Spike’s hand and he felt Alfred shake at the loose scraps of fabric, trying to discard them. Seemed it came apart very easily for such a nice shirt.
A sudden gasp as his lips broke from Alfred’s cast aside any thoughts, his eyes caught by brown ones, then his shirt was grabbed and tugged over his head. He distantly heard the soft sound of it hitting the floor a moment before they were kissing again, tumbling, landing in a tangle of limbs on the bed.
Sprawled on his back, Alfred’s hands slid against Spike’s sides and over to drag up the valley of his spine, his touches so light, so tentative that it made Spike groan against his willing victim’s eager mouth.
His hips shifting, Spike pulled back just enough to see the glassy-look slip into Alfred’s eyes as they shifted erratically against one another, a pale hand clutching at his hip, Alfred’s legs parting, moving, pressing against his sides wantonly.
“Bloody hell…” he whispered, his own eyes falling shut.
Hands were moving on him. His? Alfred’s? Herbert’s? He didn’t know, couldn’t be sure, didn’t have the attention left to check. He felt his belt undone, discarded, felt bare skin press against his, felt the tug of his trousers over his hips, his hand meeting the firm thigh of the vampire beneath him, tracing along the tensed muscle, pulling a gasp from parted lips.
Alfred sank a fist into his hair, pulling his mouth down once more, and Spike groaned aloud, clutching at Alfred’s hips until he felt the flesh bruising and, even then, his fingers kneaded and clung.
A whisper caressed the curve of his ear, maybe imagined, maybe not, but the breath of a suggestion, the touch of an idea, so delightful, so explicit, so tantalizing that he had to draw breath, shaking with hunger.
Compliant and shivering, Alfred made a faint sound of protest as the remnants of his clothing were ripped off by Spike’s over-eager hands, thrown behind Spike to land with a dull sound on the floor.
Hands roamed, touching, fondling, squeezing, making the brown-haired vampire gasp and squirm against Spike, his hips moving, although from the tension in his body, it looked like he was trying to fight the most natural of impulses.
Slipping his hands under Alfred’s thighs, Spike drew back just enough so he could push the boy’s limbs up against his chest, his own torso pressing against the back of Alfred’s thighs as he leaned in, kissing him again. He pressed against Alfred’s backside with his hips, felt the other vampire tremble, his own breath catching in his throat.
“You shouldn’t!” Alfred whispered, dark eyes wide and round.
Same kind of background, there, he knew. Shirt-lifting equals bad. Sodomy equals damnation. But bloody hell, if buggery wasn’t one of the secret sins that was just so wicked and so bloody good at the same time.
“I know,” he heard himself reply breathlessly, his lips brushing Alfred’s, touching his jaw, his chin, his smooth cheeks. “S’bad…” He pressed his hips forward, watched the dark eyes squeeze closed. “S’wrong…”
The soft, desperate whimper that slipped from Alfred’s throat was beautiful, his hands clutching wildly at the bedding beneath him, as if he could pull himself away, as if he could break free. “No…” he gasped out.
“No?” Spike echoed the word without thought, his cock slipping against the other vampire’s taut backside. He lowered his lips to Alfred’s again, kissing him gently now, softly, luring him into returning the kiss, until the vampire was moaning against his lips and shivering against his cock.
“No…” he moaned again, as Spike slid one hand over his thigh, as his fingers closed around Alfred’s prick. A sound of wanting slipped from his throat and he turned his face aside, as if ashamed, pressing his white cheek against the pillow, tousled brown curls fanning out on the pale cloth, the profile of an angel touching damnation. “Oh…”
“Oh fucking hell…” Spike whispered, staring at him in rapt awe. His hair had slipped away from his bare throat and without though, Spike found himself lowering his head, kissing the tracks of veins beneath, his body slipping more intimately against Alfred’s, making him shiver.
From those barely parted lips, he heard the gasping whisper, “You shouldn’t…”
As his fangs broke through the young vampire’s skin - gently, so gently - Spike thrust his hips just so, breaching Alfred’s body, heard him cry out, heard him moan, felt him shudder from head to toe.
His own eyes squeezing shut, Spike slowly pushed his hips forward, surrounding himself with the delightful tightness of Alfred’s body, his tongue nursing the bite on Alfred’s throat, lapping, his uncalled for breath ragged against Alfred’s skin.
“Wickedness…” Alfred whimpered, his hands flexing and pressing against the sheets beneath him, though his body said otherwise, rising against Spike’s with a wantonness that was beautiful, tensing around him, making Spike’s eyes water and his throat tighten with sensation.
Tilting his head, he nuzzled Alfred’s knee where it hooked over his shoulder, anything to save him from looking at that intoxicatingly damned face and its pouting lips and dark, helpless, innocent eyes.
A hand touched the base of his spine suddenly, without warning, and Spike gasped, his hips leaping forward, drawing an echo from Alfred. Herbert’s hand, a fresh reminder that this sprawling cherub was not his only one in the room, caressed the length of his back, his trembling shivers repeated in Alfred, who uttered a plaintive sound of need and longing.
Slowly thrusting against Alfred, Spike’s head dropped forward as he felt cool palms skim over his hips, a ragged whisper of a gasp escaping him as lips touched between his shoulders, kissing the nape of his neck, caressing the vertebrae with swirls of a wicked and knowing tongue.
His face dropped to rest against Alfred’s throat, and he nuzzled the skin with a low moan as Herbert guided his hips in steady rhythmic thrusts, as that wandering mouth roamed lower, kissing the dimples at the base of his back.
One of Alfred’s hands untangled from the sheet, combing through his hair and lifting his head to claim breathless kisses and when he heard a faint whimper, he couldn’t be sure who voiced it.
Herbert’s fingers raked over his ribs, leaving red tracks in their wake, bruises in the morning, he knew, but all that was forgotten as he felt the sensuous flick of a tongue at the very base of his spine, a slow, pleasant lap tracing the line of his buttocks, making his hips leap against Alfred, who shuddered again.
Slowly, deliberately, Herbert’s lips and body moved up Spike’s back, the touch of a bare chest against his ribs, then shoulders, sending a thrill of anticipation though him. A kiss touched his nape and he felt Herbert’s thighs press against his, his hips just barely brushing against Spike’s backside.
“Have you any idea how beautiful you two are together, my darlings?” the whisper was little more than a breath, rippling strands of Spike’s hair against his cheek, but both Spike and Alfred trembled from the wicked intimacy.
Against Alfred’s tensed thigh, Spike felt Herbert’s hand brush over his, fleeting, a brief touch over the whiteness of his knuckles, almost as soft as the kiss that was placed on his shoulder.
“Herbert…” he murmured, tilting his head to receive a fond kiss at the corner of his lips, even as Alfred kissed the other side of his mouth, both vying for his attention, his mind reeling as he was caught between them.
Three pairs of lips met, clashed, tongues darting, teeth nipping eagerly, playfully, hungrily. Despite the wonderful distraction of the kiss, a groan escaped Spike, his eyes squeezing closed, as Herbert’s body shifted and he felt the familiar invasive pressure of his lover moving within him.
Alfred claimed the advantage, his tongue slipping between Spike’s gasping lips, leisurely laps matching the strokes of Herbert against him, thrusts which drove him against Alfred’s arching body.
By Spike’s shoulder, Herbert nipped Alfred’s calf in reprimand, drawing a hiss from the dark-haired young vampire, forcing him to relinquish Spike’s lips, the vampire caught between them dropping his brow to Alfred’s collarbone, faint, panting whines slipping from his throat.
Lips touched his ear, and he felt the light, teasing nip of teeth and the flicker of a quick tongue, sending ebbs of pleasure to add to the pressure already building within him. It only increased as Herbert’s fangs scraped the flesh of his shoulder, then lapped at the tiny beads of blood with a purr of lust so resonant that both Alfred and Spike trembled against one another.
Between them, a hand slipped under the tangle of limbs, Herbert’s fingertips brushing against Spike’s belly as he wound a hand around Alfred’s neglected prick, driving his hips sharply against Spike’s and making both the younger vampires moan aloud.
“Let me see you kiss him, William,” the whisper came a breath before another thrust.
Unable to stifle a moan, Spike tossed his head back, eyes glassy, but let his mouth drop back to Alfred’s. Such clumsy, dizzied kisses, he could not recall from anytime prior, but they were no less pleasant, his lips gashed open, his blood staining those pale, angelic lips crimson.
Alfred gave a little sigh which slipped into a groan, his thighs tensing against Spike’s chest as Herbert drove Spike’s body deeper into him, Herbert’s grasping hand squeezing, clenched against the plain of Spike’s belly. Against the taut muscle, Spike’s hands were trembling, squeezing, and he matched Alfred’s faint moan as Alfred sucked on his bleeding lip, his cock throbbing painfully with unsated desire.
“Good…” Herbert breathed, pressing his cheek against Spike’s, catching some of the smeared blood with a quick curl of his tongue. It brushed Alfred’s, between Alfred and Spike’s barely parted lips. Three pairs of bloodied lips met once more, briefly, heatedly, a trio of moans sounding as a deep, penetrating stroke made both Spike and Alfred arch up against him. “Good…” Herbert whispered again.
Spike pressed his cheek against Herbert’s, panting faintly, dizzily. “God…”
“Close,” Herbert murmured, brushing his cheek against Spike’s. “But I prefer my own name, cheri.” He drew his lips along the sharp jut of Spike’s cheekbone, to his ear and whispered, “I want to hear him, William… I want to hear him scream for you…” Spike shuddered, a panting breath escaping against Alfred’s trembling lips. “Taste him… make him yours…”
If there was a protest, it faded like mist. If there was a thought, it went out like a broken lightbulb.
One hand dropped from Alfred’s thigh to tangle in his hair, pulling his head to one side and he heard the faint whisper of ‘no’ before a savage stroke by Herbert thrust him as deeply as Alfred’s body would allow, and he bit, hard, deep, as Herbert’s hand clenched around Alfred’s cock.
No mortal could have withstood, and Spike would have sworn blind that no vampire could either.
With a sobbing cry that was like music to his ears, Alfred’s body tensed as his climax struck him, his neck arching against Spike’s mouth, his thighs tensing, his hands splaying and clutching wildly at the bedding.
His own body snared, motionless, trapped between the thrashing of Alfred and the steely force of Herbert, Spike felt every tremor shaking Alfred as if it were his own, his own breath little more than staggered panting, his hips desperate to move, but held motionless by Herbert’s body.
And then, those hips twitched against him.
Exquisite pleasure shot through senses that were already heightened to the point of humming, making him buck so forcefully that Alfred cried out again. The chuckle against his shoulder made him writhe and shiver almost as aggressively.
“Kinky sod…” he whimpered.
“Oui,” Herbert kissed his earlobe softly, gently. Then he thrust again. Spots of white exploded behind Spike’s eyes and he uttered a gasping curse, his fingers clutching at Alfred blindly, his mind stuttering to a halt.
Slowly, with an almost casual indolence, Herbert’s fangs cut into his throat, bringing him to the very brink of climax, but not quite there, holding him, teasing him, making him tremble from head to foot.
“Herbert…” He whispered it, little more than a shaking breath, his whole body and mind shivering with desperate need that he could find no words to express.
A kiss touched his bitten throat gently. “Ah, je t’adore, cheri,” Herbert sighed with such innate happiness that Spike quivered. Herbert’s hips shifted oh so slowly, then Spike felt the smile against his jaw. “Now.”
And a final, delightful stroke made his mind go white, and his body was washed away by the savage, wondrous tide of pleasure.
________________________
“And he did not object?”
Pausing mid-stroke with her brush, Dawn looked thoughtful for a moment. “Nah,” she replied, pushing the brushed section of her hair over her shoulder. “He did look kinda surprised but nope, no objections.” A faint grin tripped across her lips. “He was all kinds of purry for days.”
Dunking the sponge in the bath again, Sarah shook her head in quiet disbelief. “I would never dare such a thing,” she admitted, scooping up a bar of soap and lathering it generously against the sponge.
She was sitting in the huge, ornate tub, bubbles frothing over the edge, her half-pinned hair slipping free and clinging to her bare shoulders. The mark of von Krolock’s bite still adorned her skin, though the blood had been cleaned up.
Dawn stared at her. “Really? But you’re… kinda his… doesn’t that make him kinda yours too?”
Looking up from the sponge, Sarah shook her head vehemently. “I am his, yes, but I could never hope to claim him as mine,” she said. “He is my Maker, my lover, my all, but he is so much more than I can claim. I could not dare.”
Laying her brush down beside the mirror, Dawn was staring at her. “But you’ve been around for what? A hundred years? A hundred and twenty? And you never ever tried to bite him?”
“I never said I have not tried,” Sarah murmured, her eyes rising hesitantly to meet Dawn’s. The human girl was sitting on the vanity stool, several feet from the tub, wearing a large and overly fluffy dressing gown. “But I know of no one who has ever been permitted.”
Blinking mutely, Dawn stared at her. “But you… you’re vampires… that’s what you do. You bite…”
“Only if it is specifically permitted or if we have dominance,” Sarah replied, lowering her eyes and sponging at her neck and shoulders. There was silence for a few moments then the girl asked hesitantly, “You did not know this?”
Dawn slowly shook her head. “I… I just figured it was a thing, a claiming-thing that you did…” she said quietly, carefully. “I didn’t realize I was the only one who did it to him…” She looked up warily. “Was that wrong?”
Sarah stared at her then laughed, scooping a handful of warm water and flinging it the girl. “You silly thing!” she exclaimed, as Dawn squealed in protest. “If it was wrong, you would have known the instant you did it!”
“I would?”
Sarah looked like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “If it had displeased him, he would have been certain to let you know,” she said. “His displeasure is a terrible thing to arouse.”
Dawn swiped specks of water off her face. “So the whole purry and snuggly thing is good, right?
Dropping her sponge into the water, Sarah moved closer to the edge of the bath, folding her arms on the edge of the tub. “You have to ask?” she said, looking both amused and bewildered. “He did not cast you from his affections or leave you for days on end?”
“Uh… kinda no. He let me hug him in front of Spike and Herbert… what?”
Sarah had sunk into the bubbles with a groan, but rose up again, her hair in sodden strings around her face. “You truly have no idea of what this means?” she said. “I mean truly? You do not know that we are now all answerable to you as well as he?”
“Well, he said you would have to not kill me…”
“No,” Sarah interrupted, raising a bubbly and dripping hand. “No, we answer to you. None will dare touch you. None will question you. After the Graf and his son, you have authority over those of his bloodline.”
Blue eyes blinked. “Huh?”
“He has bitten you, has he not?” Dawn nodded slowly. “And you have bitten him without his wrath being turned upon you?” Again, she nodded. “Then he respects you enough to allow such a thing.” Sarah smiled faintly at her and only now did Dawn see the nervousness behind it. “Rare among vampires, yet even rarer for your kind.”
Dawn stared at her, a little dazed. “Huh.” she mumbled. “Cool.”
Sinking back into the middle of the bath, Sarah scooped up some bubbles and blew them into the air then she frowned. “Perhaps I should not have told you?” she said with a curious look in Dawn’s direction.
Dawn smiled weakly. “I guess someone had to,” she mumbled, then looked up, a knowing expression in her eyes. “Just like someone had to make a point about having other people he wants to be snuggly with, huh, baby?”
Sarah looked around, perplexed, then laughed aloud as von Krolock seemed to simply step out of thin air. “Good morning, Johannes,” she said with a warm smile.
His gaze drifted from one to the other, and there could be no mistaking the surprise and touch of pleasure that lit his eyes. “I did not expect to find you in such close quarters this morning,” he murmured.
The two girls exchanged looks, grinning.
“It was all your doing, I am afraid,” Sarah said, sliding to the edge of the bath and resting her chin on her crossed arms, bubbles and water glistening on her pale skin.
“Oh?”
“Mm,” Dawn agreed, crossing her legs at the knee with mock demureness. “After you’ve shared one hell of an experience with someone, it does make it kinda hard to be embarrassed around them. Or mad at them.”
A steel-grey brow arched. “One would suppose…” he murmured, then looked down at Sarah. “Your room is prepared for you, dear one. If you wish to…”
“Ahem?” Dawn rose from her seat. “We’re doing girly-stuff here.” She ignored the look of incredulity that briefly flickered across his face. “We’re talking and I think I have make-up and hair-things somewhere too. You can’t interrupt girl-stuff.”
Sarah shrugged helplessly up at him. “It is so, I am afraid,” she admitted, though she was smiling. “She has vowed that she will give me a makeover.”
“And I haven’t had a proper girl to talk to for ever,” Dawn added, slipping a hand into her pocket and withdrawing a small, plastic water pistol. “And no guy, not even you, is gonna interrupt girly-stuff with my new best friend.”
His eyes dropped to the small plastic weapon, then returned to her face. “Holy water, I presume,” he murmured.
“Even if it isn’t,” Dawn replied with a broad grin. “You’re wearing way expensive silk and I bet you wouldn’t want that crinkly.” Black eyes held blue for a moment, steadily, warmly. “C’mon, Johannes. You left her with me. I wanna get to know her.”
There was a moment of stillness, which could have lead them in either direction, depending on their shared lover’s mood.
“I think, then, that I have no choice,” he replied with an elegant bow of his head. A warm look was directed at Sarah. “My apologies for intruding upon these feminine matters, my dears.” He looked down at Dawn. “I shall see you later.”
“I bet you will,” Dawn smiled up at him sweetly and was abruptly pulled into a brief and hard kiss, stumbling back a step when he released her. With a gesture of one hand, he was gone, and Dawn sighed. “God, I love it when he’s growly.”
Sarah had a hand clapped over her mouth and looked between giggling and staring in shock. “Have you no fear of him at all?” she squeaked.
“Of Johannes?” Dawn made a face, slipping her pistol into her pocket. “Hell, no. I’ve met a Hell Goddess and seen a whole bunch of apocalypses. Never met a vampire who scared me properly since I was ten years old.”
Sarah lowered her hand, though her eyebrows rose. “So young and yet, you survived?”
“There’s a whole big thing where my sisters the Slayer,” Dawn said with a shrug, as if unaware of the look of shock on Sarah’s face. “And he was a sucky vampire anyway. He was trying to be so badass, but he didn’t kill more than one of us.”
“And your sister, this Slayer, she killed him?”
Dawn frowned, sitting back on her stool. “Kinda, I think,” she replied. “Then he came back, somehow, and was good again, then he left again.” She reached out and grabbed a make-up bag, rooting through it. “He was okay, but god, he brooded and moped a lot.”
“You say he was… good?”
“Saving puppies and everything.” Dawn didn’t look up, glaring at the absence of a bottle of nail varnish and making a note to go after Spike later. “Hey!” She looked up. “Maybe you knew him, if you’re the same age as Spike!”
“Perhaps,” Sarah said carefully. “What was his name?”
“Angelus,” Dawn replied, successfully navigating tweezers from the bottom of her bag. “Or Angel. Big guy, dark hair and overhanging forehead.” Sarah said nothing and Dawn blinked at her expression. “So… you… uh… knew him, then?”
Sarah nodded. “Briefly,” she murmured. “And that was enough.”
Dropping her sponge in the tub, she stood up and Dawn squealed, clapping her hands over her eyes. “No nakedness so early in the morning!” she exclaimed.
Sarah’s dark mood dissolved in a burst of laughter. “After what you saw last night?”
“Yes!” Dawn squeaked. “Until I have seen naked man, I would prefer to see no nakedness at all!”
Sarah sighed woefully. “Very well,” she said. She stepped out of the bath, wet feet pressing moistly to the polished floor. There was a rustle of cloth. “Very well, I am clothed now.” Dawn lowered her hands then yelped and replaced them as Sarah started to laugh. “What?”
“You are evil!” Dawn exclaimed.
Patting Dawn on the head, Sarah laughed. “One day, you will learn that sooner.”
______________________________
Three days since Alfred had showed up.
Ten minutes less than that since they had managed to reach the bedroom.
Two and a half days since, somehow, by batting his ridiculously long eyelashes and innocently imploring with pouty lips and timid whispers, Alfred had persuaded Spike to let himself be shackled up.
Yeah, that was only after Alfred had been in the chains first, Spike at his back and Herbert on his knees before him at the edge of the bed, so technically Spike had really had no reason to be suspicious.
Really.
Bloody stupid mistake, that.
His arms stretched until they ached, he was still half-kneeling, half-sitting in the pile of pillows, glaring pointedly at the pair of vampires who were sprawled together on the bedding, kissing one another.
On and off, for hours, they had been at it right in front of him, but he wasn’t getting a single touch out of either of them. Was a bit like watching the best porn ever made, and then not being able to wank.
No, that was exactly what it was.
Gits.
Herbert had slipped out briefly, occasionally, bringing back blood and letting Spike drink, but never unchained him, never said why he was being kept pinned back against the headboard, didn’t even touch him them.
Spike wanted to snarl at him, kick him and swear at him but in one of their breaks, he had managed to gather his scattered thoughts together enough to realize exactly what Herbie was up to. Or, at least, he guessed that it was all coming back to that one time he had dared to chain Herbie up for his own good.
The bastard didn’t forgive and forget, apparently, and when he got his revenge, he did it in spades.
Now, both Herbert and Alfred were tangled together in front of him, Herbert’s body almost blotting out Alfred’s slighter one against the white sheets, his golden hair slipping over his shoulders and mingling with Alfred’s darker curls.
Alfred still made token protests as Herbert’s lips escaped his, journeying over jaw, collarbone, chest, belly, lower still, until the dark-haired vampire’s body was arched so beautifully, his desperate little gasps echoing back, those bloody lashes fluttering against his cheekbones.
Biting the inside of his lip, Spike stifled a sound of want.
Bloody Herbert was a bloody evil bloody bastard of bloody epic proportions.
He had tried, some time during the previous day, to close his eyes and ignore what they were doing. It had worked as long as he ignored the scent. And then, Herbert had noticed and started to whisper a commentary of exactly what he was doing to dear, darling, panting, quivering, begging Alfred, touch for touch, gesture for explicit purred gesture.
Even more than the seeing, that had made Spike’s body tense up with hunger.
And he’d left him dangling in the chains again, like he was now.
How many times they were going to get him off just by playing to him, he didn’t know. It was getting a bit bloody embarrassing and all, because they were so bloody good together, and Herbert knew exactly how to make Alfred whimper in a way that made Spike shudder and groan and come all over the place.
Bloody embarrassing.
Tumbled onto his belly, half-kneeling, his face burying in his arms, Alfred moaned softly, a combination of longing, shame and desire, and Spike tasted blood as his teeth broke through his lower lip. Not again.
That tousled, dark head was less than an arm’s length from his knee, the spine curving enticingly away from him, his own eyes fixed on Herbert as his lover slowly - and smiling all the while - kissed and lapped his way down the length of Alfred’s back.
“You’re a sodding bastard…” Spike’s whisper was raw and dry, his arms tensing against the chains as he watched those familiar lips touch between the pointed shoulder blades. It had been said before, and he knew it would be said again.
Herbert only laughed, softly, fondly, as if indulging a child. “I know, cheri,” he said, grey eyes snaring blue for the first time in hours, acknowledging him as he reached beneath Alfred’s upraised hips. Alfred gasped and Spike stifled its echo, chewing on his lower lip with such ferocity he wondered if there would be any flesh left at all by the time he was undone.
With a brief, sweet smile, Herbert slowly started kissing his way back down Alfred’s spine, making him tremble and shiver. With his other hand pressing to Alfred’s hip, Herbert lowered his head and traced the line of the younger vampire’s tensed buttocks with his tongue.
The memory of what that devilish tongue was capable of made Spike’s insides tense up pleasantly, and his body pressed back against the headboard as he tried to force down the insatiable hunger Herbert constantly managed to draw out of him.
With a soft moan that was utterly wanton in texture, Alfred squirmed against Herbert’s lips, his hands sinking into the bedding beneath him, knuckles white, his brow pressing against his folded forearms.
Herbert’s body shifted and slipped up to allow his lips to wander back up Alfred’s spine once more, lingering over bites, love bites, bruises and scratches left from the previous two nights, nothing deep, nothing damaging, all making that vulnerable, delicate little body all the more tantalizing.
When he reached the nape of Alfred’s neck, he nuzzled the dark curls aside and raked his fangs across the boy’s neck, making him arch and shudder. Herbert murmured something that Spike couldn’t quite make out, didn’t really care if he made out, his blue eyes locked on his lover as Herbert’s body slipped intimately against Alfred’s again.
Alfred’s hips rocked and he moaned again, but now, he started to lift his face from his arms and Spike found his eyes drawn down magnetically as the pale face beneath the dark curls became visible once more.
Through a thick fringe of lashes, Alfred’s dark eyes met his, utterly sinful, and slowly, his lips curved in a smile that seemed out of place on such angelic features.
Spike gaped at him, blinking.
Then it was gone and those dark eyes pressed closed as Herbert shifted his hand. Spike looked away, shaking his head. What the hell…? Had to be seeing things. Too much sex and not enough happening to him. That’s what it had to be.
He felt the bedding shift, didn’t look around, didn’t want to see proof that he was cracking, when lips brushed his knee.
That made him look around.
Directed forward, raising himself on his forearms, Alfred nuzzled his way up Spike’s thigh. Blue eyes were wide, and Spike felt himself trembling wildly as Alfred leaned forward and carefully, delicately lapped the crease of hip and groin.
“Oh God…”
A soft laugh from Herbert made his eyes snap up to the eldest vampire, who was lazily moving his hips against Alfred’s, not quite penetrating, while one hand - out of sight - was shifting, grasping, teasing.
“Darling,” he whispered to Spike, sliding his other hand up to comb through Alfred’s hair as those lips moved, making Spike shiver. “When will you learn that he will never listen to you?”
That didn’t stop Spike calling out again when Alfred’s lips closed around his painfully-throbbing prick, making his hips jerk as tongue, teeth and lips accosted him in ways that made his eyes roll back and his chains rattle.
When Alfred groaned around him, Spike’s teeth split his lower lip open again, his head banging back against the headboard. He knew his knees would have buckled if he had been standing.
“Fuck…” he moaned, hips shifting, a whimpered gasp escaping him as Alfred took almost his full length between his lips, the dark curls of the vampire’s hair tickling against Spike’s belly.
“Soon,” Herbert whispered a moment before his lips caught Spike’s, the hand that had been so recently tangled in Alfred’s hair pulling Spike’s head forward, his tongue delving greedily between Spike’s lips as he pushed himself into Alfred’s body.
A throaty groan from Alfred made Spike tremble and moan against Herbert’s mouth, his hips quivering, his body desperate for some kind of completion.
Letting his hand slip to Spike’s throat, Herbert’s nails raked against the healing bite-marks that had been opened two nights earlier. Fresh blood welled up and Spike uttered a gasping whine, his eyes pressing shut.
Drawing his lips from Spike’s, Herbert nuzzled his cheek softly. “You,” he whispered, sinking his nails into the bite, wonderful pain blooming through Spike’s body. “Are mine, William.”
Then his lips were claimed as his body was, and under the hands and loving guidance of Herbert and the tantalizing touches of Alfred, Spike felt himself go to pieces.
Part 2