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Healing Wounds	By : Sylver Category: Anita Blake > Crossovers > AB/BtVS Views: 5402 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Anita Blake series, nor BtVS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Anita was furious as she stormed out of the Circus. Council members coming or not, she needed to get away from there. She had decided to just head home, but then she remembered that she needed to pick Nathaniel up at Guilty Pleasures in a couple of hours, so she might as well go there and wait for him.

It was a Friday night and the club was packed. Hundreds of screaming women were dancing and stuffing dollar bills into the G-strings of the strippers parading on stage. She was happy to see that she had made it in time for Nathaniel’s show. She loved to watch him dance.

Nathaniel was her personal pomme de sang, used to feed her ardeur periodically. In the beginning she had needed to feed at least twice a day to keep her lust under control, and back in those days she wouldn’t have made it without Nathaniel’s help. A true submissive in every sense of the word, he had always allowed her to do whatever she wished with him, and as a result she had seen every glorious inch of his well toned body on countless occasions, but still she had never had sex with him, not true intercourse anyway. Even now, after all this time, she would only allow their intimacy to go so far. It would seem too much like abuse to take it that final step. Nathaniel was in effect too passive to actually consent to sex. In his mind, she was his ‘top’ andwoulwould do whatever she said. It made Anita uneasy, as if he couldn’t even think for himself.

Perhaps that was why she liked to watch him dance so much. When Nathaniel was on stage he was like a different person, confident. He was damn hot and he knew it. Anita heard the announcer, Tony, call out Nathaniel’s name and watched with a satisfied smirk as several of his ‘fans’ rushed to the stage for a better look.

Tonight he wore his hair loose, like a soft curtain of auburn silk flowing all the way down his back and brushing along the floor. Anita knew quite well the feeling of that glorious hair on her bare flesh like a living thing caressing her. It was one of the things she loved most about him, along with his eyes which were bright, alive, and lavender in color. None of the other women in the bar were paying any attention to his eyes. Their hungry gazes were all for his body. The sensual movement of his pelvis was hypnotizing. His frame was small, lean, but there was no doubt about the strength he carried in his taut muscles. When he was on stage he was a predator, not the prey, and it was in these moments that Anita was most tempted to take him, really take him once and for all, but she couldn’t.

With a sigh, she looked away and made a path over to the bar to wait until he was finished. She was a hypocrite and it was weighing heavily on her conscience. Just a few short years ago she was about as much of a prude as you could get. She was a born again virgin, having vowed after her first serious boyfriend had dumped her to never again have sex with a man until she was married. Then she met Jean-Claude and Richard and she changed her tune a bit.

Still, she had come to grips with not being the “good girl” she thought she was, but when she took the third mark and inherited Jean-Claude’s ardeur, making her the equivalent of a succubus, she was forced to reevaluate her morals once again. In the end she was left with three lovers, Jean-Claude, Richard, and Micah, although now it was two since Richard had dumped her. Plus the occasional romp with Nathaniel or Jason.

Realistically, she knew such sexual contact was necessary to keep her ardeur at bay, and she was mostly okay with that. However, she made it quite clear that while she may be forced to fool around with this guy or that, SHE did not share. If she ever caught Micah or Jean-Claude in bed with someone else, it was over. Horribly unfair, sure, but she couldn’t help it. It was just the way she felt.

In a way she couldn’t believe Jean-Claude had actually done it, but then again she had seen the way he and Asher looked at each other. They had been part of a ménage tois with Asher’s human servant, Juliana, who had been burned at the stake as a witch while Asher was tortured with holy water. It had pretty much ended their relationship. While Jean-Claude had rescued Asher and traded a hundred years of servitude to the vampire council in exchange for them saving Asher’s life, Asher had never really forgiven Jean-Claude for not being able to save Juliana as well. Or maybe it was himself that he had never forgiven.

Perhaps it was too much for her to insist on them staying apart. She was not exclusive to Jean-Claude, and she did care for Asher very much. If they could offer each other some happiness, who was she to interfere?

FUCK THAT! It may not be fair, but neither was life. If Jean-Claude had come to her first, she would have pitched a total fit, but in the end she might have agreed to let them be together on some level, but to go behind her back, and with that little traitor, Willow, no less! After all she had done to help that ungrateful twit; she repays her kindness by screwing Jean-Claude! Well there was no excuse for it. They were lucky she didn’t just shoot the lot of them. In fact she could still go back and shoot them now, they were probably still in bed. Maybe she could at least wound them. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? It wasn’t like she was planning on killing any of them, just hurting them a lot.

Anita was so wrapped up in her plans for vengeance that at first she didn’t notice Spike sitting at the bar a few seats down from her. That is until he fell off his stool, flinging his drink in the air in the process and dousing her. “Hey watch it, you prick!” she growled, and then realized just who it was she was yelling at. “Spike, what are you doing here?”

“I’m writing a book. What does it look like I’m doing, you daft bint? Help me up,” he growled back.

Given the situation Anita had found Jean-Claude, Asher, and Willow in, she could guess at his reason for being so intoxicated, but decided against confirming her suspicions. She helped pour the very drunk vamp back onto his stool and ordered him a coffee. She didn’t know if it would help a vampire, in her world they could only drink blood, but Spike was different so it certainly couldn’t hurt to try. Or at least that was what she thought until he tried to take a sip and spilled it all down his front. That set off a flood of swearing that made even her blanch.

“Sorry about the coffee, I thought it would help. I know how much burns can sting.”

“Yeah? Been burned by scalding coffee much, have you?”

“Well, no, not often, but I do have this…” she said pulling up her sleeve to show him the slightly crooked cross shaped scar on her left arm.

“Huh, you’re not a vamp… A human would have to be pretty bad for a cross to burn them like that, I think,” Spike said, his expression speculative as he lightly traced the scar with his fingertips.

Anita shivered involuntarily. “allyally, it was someone’s idea of a joke,” she replied bitterly

“I can see how it would be funny, although maybe not to you. I used to have some scars like that too. Got caught in a burning church. Burned my face, and my chest here,” he said, yanking up his shirt to show her his perfectly sculpted torso. “Course after awhile mine healed. Not like that ponce, Asher…”

At the mention of Asher’s name, Spike froze and a pained look flashed across his face, confirming Anita’s suspicions. She felt a wave of hurt and betrayal overwhelm her as well, but she quickly pushed it back down. Wanting to keep the conversation on a safe topic, she yanked down slightly on the collar of her shirt to expose more vicious scars. “Actually some of my worst ones are from being bitten.”

Spike moved nearer to her, his attention drawn to the white patches of ruined flesh. He stood very close, leaning into her body for a better look. “I figured a girl like you liked it rough, but I had no idea,” he purred in her ear. “I didn’t realize a poofter like Jean-Claude had it in him.”

Anita shuddered at the feeling of his body pressing against hers, his arousal quickly becoming apparent. “Actually it was another vampire. He was trying to kill me.”

“Oh, I see,” he said nuzzling her neck. “So you don’t like it rough…”

“Well…”

“I bet you would like it rough with me, pet. I bet I could really make you scream.”

Anita tried to think of some reason to protest, but as he pulled her body tight against his, pushing up her skirt enough to grind his erection against her soaked panties, she couldn’t think of any reason not to. Jean-Claude had cheated on her after all. Why shouldn’t she fuck the gorgeous vamp rubbing against her?

“You think you can make me scream?” she asked, running her hand down his back and cupping his ass. Spike nodded, and then began planting soft kisses along her throat. “Hmmm, prove it then.”

Using her key to get them into Jean-Claude’s office, Spike didn’t waste any time. He quickly swept everything off the desk and onto the floor, then tossed the tiny woman up onto the mahogany surface, before climbing on himself.

Anita wasn’t sure what to expect, but she was a little caught off guard when he shoved her face down onto the desk, lifting her hips up with one hand while he held her head in place with the other.

Hiking her skirt up around her waist, Spike was pleased to find her wearing a thong which exposed her perfect ass. Someone had been working out! Quickly he snapped the tiny piece of silk and pushed the offending material out of the way. Running a finger over her slick folds, it was apparent she was ready for him, but he wanted to tease her a bit first.

He slowly traihis his fingers over her soft mound, applying only the barest amount of pressure until she was writhing in front of him, rocking her hips to try to increase their contact. He applied more force to the hand holding her head until he heard her give a tiny yelp of pain. “Naughty, naughty. No fair trying to change the rules of the game, pet. I’m on top here and if you want me to make you scream, you’re going to have to beg for it.”

Anita was going out of her mind. She did like it rough on occasion, but she had never given up control like this before. She was used to being the one with the power. The truth was, Spike scared her. And yet, that seemed to turn her on all the more. Swallowing her pride, and her fear, she gave herself over to her desire.

“P…Please, Spike, fuck me,” she moaned, pushing her ass back enough to rub against his jean-clad cock.

Spike growled in response. He had wanted to draw this out as long as possible, but hearing her beg was more than he could take. Quickly freeing his rigid length from its confines, he slammed it into her, making them both cry out with pleasure.

He rode her hard, pulling her head up slightly by her hair to give him better leverage. There was nothing gentle or beautiful about what they were doing. It was pure fucking, and it was what they both had desperately needed.

As he pounded into her with bruising force, Spike could feel himself nearing the edge already and swore under his breath. He had promised to make her scream, but if she didn’t come soon, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold out long enough. Why had he gotten so drunk before?! Oh well, he decided, he would make her scream the next time.

Pulling her up by the hair until her body was flush against his; he tore her shirt down the front, moving his grip from her head to grasp at her breast instead, as the fingers of his other hand dug into her hip. He continued to thrust his length into her and knew the moment had come.

Anita began to shake as he roughly manhandled her body. A little voice inside her head was trying to tell her she shouldn’t be enjoying such brutal treatment, but as he ripped away her blouse and gripped her breast, kneading it painfully, she felt a scream of rapture building in her throat.

Spike couldn’t wait anymore. Feeling his balls start to tighten, he came with a roar, pumping his seed into her as he felt his human visage slipping away. Without a second thought, he buried his fangs in her throat, drinking deep her sweet blood.

Anita felt his sharp teeth graze her neck a second before they sank in. She screamed as fear and pleasure flowed over her body in waves. The spine cracking orgasm was stronger than any she ever had before as he continued to drink from her, her body convulsing around him until she was just a pool of nerves seemingly disconnected from everything else.

Spike felt her start to go limp in his arms and sat back on his knees, pulling her into his lap, still buried within her. Then, pulling back from her throat, he shifted back into his human façade and lapped gently at the trickle of blood still flowing from her throat.

“So, pet, that’s some scream you have there. But I bet I can make you do it even louder…” he whispered in her ear, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

To be continued…
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Healing Wounds