Chapter One: A Little Broken
A stick of incense smoldered in an ashtray on the nightstand to the left of
the bed and there were candles spread throughout the darkened room on every available flat surface. The flames flickered,
casting shadows across the walls and the thick navy blue blanket covering the window. A thin haze of smoke filled the room,
mixing the scents of candle wax and cinnamon incense.
Two women lay facing each other on the bed, gazing into each other’s
eyes. Each was waiting for the other to give in and take what she wanted, daring her to. The candlelight caressed their skin,
revealing the tension coiled tightly beneath and to their own eyes, they were visibly vibrating with it. They both needed
this, but neither was going to make anything easy.
They were both too full of anger, the kind that made them unstoppable in a
fight, to just give in. Both had been betrayed at one time or another—hurt, left behind, lost, and forgotten one too
many times. They were both a little broken. When they were together was the only time they could just take what they wanted,
the only time they weren’t expected to just give.
They didn’t ask; they never had to when it came to each other. They’d
been inside each other and they belonged to each other, it had just taken them a while to realize it. They took what they
wanted however they needed it. It gave them back the control they both so desperately wanted.
It hadn’t always been like that, though. There’d been a time when
they’d both been part of each other’s betrayers and letting the other
take something, anything, from them had been out of the question back then. They’d
been bitter rivals, enemies seeking to torture, to destroy or kill, to devastate. They’d fought and they’d hated
and they’d denied their connection.
Four years ago that had come to an end with a long awaited conversation. Then
they’d defeated the First Evil and stood on the edge of the crater that was the physical proof of their struggles against
the darkness. When the shock wore off, their emotions had eaten at them from the inside. They’d been unable to sleep
that first night and they’d run into each other in the hotel hallway.
Both had been full of pent up aggression and the antagonism that followed ended
in a fight. Somehow they’d ended up on the floor of an empty room, bloody and full of deep rage. They’d gotten
locked in a stare-down that ended with their mouths crushed together and then their fists had turned to grasping hands. The
kiss was harsh and bruising and tasted of blood and hate.
The sex was forceful and painful. It left more bruises and drew more blood
than the fight that led to it had. Neither said a word as they took each other. Both had shed tears as they found release.
Buffy hadn’t been surprised that she’d done it, found freedom in
pain and sex. It wasn’t like it was the first time; Spike held that dubious honor. She’d been more surprised at
first about who it had been. Then with some thought, she’d realized that she shouldn’t have been surprised at
all.
Faith was hers. It was a knowledge she’d always held, and somewhere in
the back of her mind she’d realized it was the demon essence inside of her claiming Faith. It had frightened her and
caused her to push Faith away in the past. It was then that she’d realized she was Faith’s as well.
They belonged to each other. That was all their relationship had been about
at the start this time around, no pretenses at friendship or anything resembling it. She wasn’t stupid enough to think
any of this was love. But she did care about Faith now, truer and deeper than she did anyone else.
They’d both thought their first time was a fluke, brought on by an emotional
overload. They hadn’t thought it would happen again, hadn’t expected the unrelenting anger they both had to suppress
constantly to bring them back together. It wasn’t until two days later when Buffy came to Faith’s room on the
anniversary of her death that they admitted that what was between them wasn’t going to go away. It was with both relief
and reluctance that their relationship began.
Buffy ignored her impulses when it came to everything else in her life all
for the sake of her friends and family. She didn’t want to lose them and so she did what they would approve of. She’d
all ready seen what happened whenever she didn’t and she just couldn’t go through that again. But with Faith,
she could take what she wanted and have Faith any way she wanted to.
Faith avoided doing things that might make the others afraid she was going
to turn on them because she wanted their trust. She wanted them to accept her completely. She understood why they didn’t
because it was hard for her to trust them too. But with Buffy, there was absolute trust and she could let the darkness inside
of her show without fear that it would be misinterpreted.
Their entire relationship seemed unhealthy, and on some level it probably was.
But in the end, they both got what they wanted. They gave each other what they needed by allowing the other to take it. It
gave both of them back the control that their friends had taken away.
That didn’t mean that either of them had forgotten their past. There
were still days when the old hatred returned and their anger was white hot rage that made what they did seem less like sex
and more like rape. It was mean, it was nasty, and every movement was calculated to be cruel. It always ended with them both
crying and clinging to each other like drowning women to a raft.
There were days when tears didn’t relieve the aches in their chests.
The tightness almost choked them each and every time. Dangerous games became an outlet for their pain. Razors, knives, fire,
and nails, they all made an appearance and blood and sweat would stain their skin and sheets.
There were days when their guilt swallowed them. Their mistakes haunted them.
The girls they’d been unable to protect, the victims they didn’t save, that the vampires they staked had all been
people at one point, Allan Finch, Lester Wirth, Xander, Anya, Dawn, Willow, Jenny Calendar, Angel, their own shared past.
They pleaded with each other for punishment on those days.
There were days when Faith’s darkness reared its head. It excited her
to desecrate her golden goddess. She made Buffy scream, made her cry, humiliated, and debased her, and it got Faith off harder
and faster than anything else ever had. She loved to make Buffy beg to bleed.
They sometimes touched one another as if the other would break if they weren’t
careful. They’d explore each other agonizingly slow, letting their need build to an unbearable level. Their lips would
brush against each other again and again, never devouring. It was the closest they’d ever get to love because neither
of them was capable of trusting anyone with their hearts anymore.
No one knew. It wasn’t that they were ashamed—if asked they’d
admit to having a relationship. But Buffy hadn’t been the type to share in a long time, and Faith never had been. They
weren’t even going out of the way to hide, which only told them just how dense everyone really was.
Angel and Spike had known before they died. They’d come to Italy upon
hearing rumors of Buffy being involved with The Immortal. They’d only had themselves to blame for discovering that the
woman they’d both been in love with was involved, just not with whom they’d expected. That had resulted in a tantrum
from Buffy that had ended with Faith showing them the door.
Buffy still thought vampires really needed to keep their noses to themselves.
It was no one else’s business if she wanted to indulge in blood play with her lover. There wasn’t any cheating
and no one was being killed. If she wanted to let Faith carve her up, then she fucking well would.
Chapter Two: Once Upon a Time
It was Faith that gave in this time. She couldn’t take much more of those
feverish hazel eyes challenging her to take what she wanted. Her muscles rippled fluidly as she moved to guide Buffy onto
her stomach. Then Faith lifted up to straddle Buffy’s ass as she spoke.
“Once upon a time there was a little girl. The world wanted to break
her.”
Faith leaned over the bed towards the nightstand and slid the drawer open.
The body beneath her shifted and she placed her free hand in the small of Buffy’s back.
“Stay.”
The single command did exactly as it was supposed to. Faith idly caressed Buffy’s
satiny skin as she continued to rummage through the drawer. Cool steel met her searching fingertips and she paused, contemplating
it. Then she shrugged and nudged the knife aside to continue her search.
“She was born into her mother’s world of pain, of sex, drugs, and
violence. There was no one there to protect her from the reality of it, to hide things a child shouldn’t even know about.”
Faith found what she was looking for when her hand brushed a small plastic
package. She retrieved it and pulled out one of the tiny metal contents. Then she tucked the package back in the drawer and
shut it. She gazed down at the canvas of Buffy’s back for a brief moment.
“She heard moans, grunts, and screams, heard skin slappin’ against
skin, the headboard slammin’ against the bedroom wall in the tiny-assed apartment she and her mother lived in every
night.”
Shiny steel glinted in the candle light as it brushed against golden peach-toned
skin. Faith gently teased Buffy with the razor blade, stroking her spine with the edge without applying pressure. She flexed
her thighs, gently squeezing Buffy’s hips as her center brushed Buffy’s ass.
“One day the little girl asked her ma why she was in pain all the time.
She just gave a laugh that didn’t sound right and told her it was a good kind of hurt and that she’d understand
one day.”
Buffy closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. She hated hearing stories
of Faith’s life this way, when she couldn’t hold her, but this was the only way Faith would do it. Faith would
only give those pieces of herself away in a twisted game of pleasure. She usually expected the favor to be returned because
it was the only comfort she’d accept when her emotions were still so raw.
“It wasn’t long before the girl saw just what was hurtin’
her ma. She caught ‘em on the couch. One of her ‘uncles’ was bare-assed naked, makin’ those sounds,
and she didn’t understand, but she walked around and saw. He had her ma pinned to the couch and he was shovin’
his thing inside her.”
A thin line of red followed the path of the razor blade across Buffy’s
right shoulder as Faith pressed down just a little. A sigh escaped Buffy and Faith smirked darkly. She traced a finger through
the blood and smeared it around. Then she pressed her fingertip to kiss-swollen lips.
Buffy sucked the digit into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around it. The familiar
combined salty-metallic flavors of Faith’s skin and her own blood flooded her mouth. Her teeth scraped flesh as Faith
slipped her finger out of her mouth. Buffy rubbed her already slick thighs together, moaning at the friction on her painfully
distended clit.
The first cut always stung a little. Then as more were added, it would become
a low burn. It had come as a surprise that very first time when Buffy had realized just how much she liked it. It made her
juices drip liberally from her pussy and made her need that much stronger.
“The little girl’s ma had lots of boyfriends. She made her call
‘em ‘uncle’. Said they deserved respect ‘cause they helped pay the bills. She’d slap her around
when she fucked up and didn’t.”
Faith leaned back just a little to view Buffy’s back a little better.
She trailed the blade down to the rise of Buffy’s ass and then to the left over her hip. She made a thin, shallow cut
that drew another sigh from her lover. She sometimes went too deep; if she felt carefully along the soft skin Faith could
find the marks she’d left behind scattered amongst battle-scars.
“Then one day she gained an intimate knowledge of pain. Apparently her
ma wasn’t all that good, ‘cause one of the boyfriends was more interested in the little girl. He wanted to play
games that made her hurt, made her bleed in places that would burn when she peed.”
Her disgust at the things that had been done to Faith had long since faded.
In its’ place was an anger that would likely turn homicidal if she was ever face-to-face with the perpetrators. In this
place, their haven, the anger washed away just like that on a low tide of pain. The razor scored into her once, then twice,
releasing thin rivulets of blood and anger to trickle over her ribcage.
“The little girl’s ma came home to catch him bendin’ her
baby over her own bed. Large brown eyes pleaded for help as a hoarse voice cried out. But her ma didn’t care. Her only
response was to say that her little firecracker was just like mommy now, a useless whore. Her ma said it was about time she
earned her keep and the little girl was confused and hurt but no one cared.”
Faith was shaking by the time she’d finished. But it didn’t stop
her from pushing the razor into that peachy skin, from dragging the blade straight across Buffy’s shoulders. A hiss
escaped Buffy at one point and Faith realized she’d cut a bit too deep. She didn’t let it stop her.
The darkling anger in Faith’s voice mesmerized Buffy. It reached inside
her and tugged at something, something that could match Faith darkness for darkness. Buffy liked it. She hadn’t once;
back then it had driven her to the point of sinking a knife hilt-deep into Faith’s belly.
“Now the world of pain and sex was hers. Then one day she went lookin’
for a way to numb herself to it. She found it in the bottom of a bottle and she finally understood why her ma drank.”
Faith smiled and lowered her head. Her tongue trailed gently through the blood
seeping from the wound across Buffy’s shoulders. She moaned and applied more pressure, lapping at it. The body between
her thighs trembled and liquid heat trickled out from flushed lips to dampen dark curls.
There was irony in this act they committed so often. That they were Slayers
and they thrilled at the taste of each other’s blood deeply amused the both of them. It was a craving, something that
brought them together as often as anything else. It tasted of sin, dark and heady; forbidden.
“Her world continued to spiral her down into oblivion, tryin’ to
break her. Then everything changed. She woke up from strange nightmares feelin’ strong for the first time in her life.
And she ran, ‘cause if she didn’t, the first person to hit her would be the focus of a fuck-load of rage.”
Faith’s lips brushed the cut with every word, smearing the blood around
her mouth. She worried the tip of her tongue into the deepest part of the wound and Buffy arched into the contact, growling
softly at the sensation. A fresh trickle of blood filled Faith’s mouth and she groaned as the wound pulsated around
her invasive muscle. She pulled back just a little.
“And she fell further into oblivion. Then for a brief moment between
childhood and womanhood, someone came to pull her from the darkness. But it only lasted a moment. And then that moment of
peace was torn apart and desecrated right in front of her and all she could do was run, again.”
Faith reached further up, teasing the nape of Buffy’s neck with the razor.
She trailed the blade down around Buffy’s neck to the side of her throat. She waited until Buffy swallowed and gently
made an incision just to the left of her artery. Faith stretched forward, arching her back, and then latched her mouth onto
the wound, suckling harshly.
Buffy groaned, low and deep. The delicious low burn spread from each cut, sending
little jolts of pain that reached for the heat building in her belly. She reached up, tangling her fingers in thick, dark
curls. She inhaled slowly, and then released it in a breathy moan as Faith pulled back again.
“She was lost and felt so alone. But somewhere deep inside, she remembered
that she wasn’t really alone. She clung to memories of stories about another just like her as she ran away from the
place of her nightmares. For the first time in years, her heart cried out for help.”
Faith tensed her thighs and lifted up just enough to allow Buffy to move. With
her empty hand, she gripped Buffy’s hip and guided her over onto her back. She settled back down, resting her ass in
Buffy’s lap. Their eyes met and she chuckled at the questioning look in Buffy’s gaze.
“But what she found wasn’t what she expected. The one who was supposed
to be just like her was a goddess compared to her; innocent and clean. The girl didn’t want to appear helpless so she
made up stories about herself, lettin’ her goddess and her friends think that everything was fine. They didn’t
realize that beneath the surface, she was strugglin’ to keep from breakin’.”
Faith drew the razor blade across the firm, well-muscled surface of Buffy’s
abdomen. She traced it across a scar from an old sword wound and up towards Buffy’s breasts. Faith lifted her eyes again
and let the blade pierce the skin above Buffy’s right breast. Then she lowered her head and pressed her lips to the
wound, softly sucking.
Then she closed her eyes and sunk her teeth into the cut. Hands came up to
clutch her head, holding her as close as she could get. Her teeth tore into it, widening the wound. It would leave bruises,
make it painful to wear a bra for a few days, and that was just what Faith was going for.
She wanted to leave a lasting reminder. Faith always left her mark, always
left cuts, scratches, bites, and bruises behind to remind Buffy who she belonged to. Buffy was Faith’s bloodstained
fallen goddess. She smiled as she pulled back, having to force Buffy to let her go to move.
Chapter Three: Fallen Goddess
“The past caught up to her and the girl, now a young woman, fell even
further into oblivion. They defeated her enemy, but she still couldn’t find her way back. Then the world tried once
again to break her. It seemed her goddess had been lyin’, had been keepin’ secrets.”
There was an underlying anger in Faith’s words that Buffy recognized
for what it was. No matter how many times they apologized, their past was still—and always would be—an open wound.
But they both found relief in that, unlike with everyone else, they could talk about it. They could show their anger, let
it out, and no one would try to sweep it under the rug as if it didn’t matter.
“Then her goddess sided with another, showed the girl just how little
she meant to her. Once again, she was hurt and confused and no one seemed to care. She cracked, but didn’t break. She
wanted to bring her goddess off her pedestal, to make her dirty just like her; and she did.”
Faith shifted and crawled backwards. She kept going until she was faced with
Buffy’s apex. She inhaled the combined scents of desire, candle wax, incense, and blood and moaned softly. Then she
brought the razor blade up and drew it across the soft skin of Buffy’s inner thigh.
A red line followed, releasing a fresh trickle of blood. The smell of Buffy’s
desire increased and Faith smiled. She flicked her tongue over the wound, teasing it gently with the tip. The act was reminiscent
of another, much more personal one and it brought a low moan from Buffy. A hand cupped the back of Faith’s head again,
almost cutting off her air as she was pressed close.
The need for release was a low pulse inside her center. Buffy’s inner
walls convulsed, making her breath come in short bursts. The sensation was so strong that she could almost come from this
contact alone. Then again, anger always had this effect on her.
Not that Faith couldn’t get Buffy to this point this quickly all on her
own. No, Faith was talented—there was never any doubt about that. But, this time Faith was innocent—well, as innocent
as Faith could ever get and still be herself, anyway. No, this could be entirely credited to her nearest, dearest, well-meaning
friends.
Buffy’s grip tightened unconsciously as the earlier argument filtered
through her thoughts. She knew they meant well. But well-meant intentions had long since lost their meaning to her—just
as much as the need to search for ‘the perfect man’ had lost its’ appeal. Willow and Xander just didn’t
seem to understand that, and wouldn’t give up trying to set her up with random friends.
Faith felt the tension returning to her lover’s body, could almost feel
it as her own. She reached back and untangled Buffy’s hand from her hair. Then she lifted up and shifted so that they
were face to face. She cupped Buffy’s jaw and bit her bottom lip, the pain pulling Buffy back to now.
“There were hunts, long nights where they trailed their prey. They toyed
with ‘em, let their bodies make the demons think of somethin’ more carnal, and then they tore ‘em apart.
The nights ended in dances they felt in their souls, lingerin’ touches and looks leavin’ hauntin’ memories.
But always, there was someone else lurkin’ in the darkest parts of their minds, and watching.”
A burning latticework of red was left on Buffy’s lower belly in the wake
of the razor blade. Faith straddled Buffy’s hips, grinding down into her and smearing the blood all over them. She could
feel it cooling in drying trails as she swooped down to capture Buffy’s mouth. Faith slipped her tongue inside, immersing
herself in the taste of blood, sweat, and a faint hint of her own juices.
Buffy was squirming now, pressing her thighs together for the friction on her
clit. The memories of the nights at the Bronze had been too much. The pain that had always followed them now only made her
want Faith more, made her lust burn that much hotter. She’d learned to appreciate pain.
Then Buffy had also learned to love it. And now she was addicted to it. Giving
up their relationship wasn’t an option any longer, if it had ever even truly been one. Without this outlet, the two
of them would both be in a world of trouble, and others would soon follow.
Faith tore herself away from the kiss. She wasn’t finished yet. She was
nowhere near to being even close to finished. The story had yet to find an ending,
one way or another.
“Within a single night, with just one mistake, the young woman’s
world came crashin’ down around her. Now she was suddenly somethin’ to be reviled, somethin’ disgustin’;
she was evil. Her goddess managed to do the one thing the world never had in just one look. The girl broke.”
Faith lifted up and scooted back. Then she brought the bloodstained razor down,
dragging it through the already wounded flesh of Buffy’s belly. A hot wave of crimson flooded Faith’s hand. She
switched the blade to her other hand and brought her fingers up to be sucked clean.
She kept her eyes locked with Buffy’s. Shadows danced across their faces,
candlelight painting the scene in eerie yellowish-oranges and grays. Then Faith lowered her hand, letting her fingers slip
from her full lips with a muted pop. Her hand fell to the wound, fingers splaying in the blood as Faith tossed the razor blade
to the nightstand.
Buffy didn’t feel the guilt for stabbing Faith in the way she had once.
The expanse of raised, rough flesh to the right of Faith’s navel was just one in a long line of scars, some ones she’d
even left. It was the largest she’d ever made. She just regretted the circumstances and the outcome.
She hated that she’d pushed Faith away. That she’d denied what
was, and always had been, between them. She hated that she’d ever thought Angel was the one for her. There was only
one person that was made for her, and now they were both too broken for it to be as it should be.
There could be no love. You can’t
love someone if you don’t love yourself. There could be no redemption. And
no one can ever truly forgive you if you can’t forgive yourself.
It was a never ending cycle that they were stuck in. And neither of them really
wanted out. There were days when they grew cold, when they pushed until the other snapped. But all that was left for them
were their bloodstained embraces, and neither of them wanted to taint anyone else.
“The young woman struggled to claw her way out of oblivion. But all she
could do was follow the spider web of cracks inside, and they only lead her further into the darkness. It all came to a sudden,
violent stop with a knife to the gut and what should’ve been a final goodbye.”
Angel had tried to put a stop to them; Spike, too. But they were as inevitable
as the ocean tide. The two vampires had left Italy with their tails tucked between their legs. It had been driven home that
the woman with Faith wasn’t the same girl that had been with them.
This woman was everything they’d wanted and everything they’d have
never had. Had Buffy stayed with either of them, she’d have been incomplete. Only Faith brought out every aspect of
her. With Faith, every emotion she felt always came boiling out no matter how hard she fought.
“It should’ve been the end,” Faith murmured. “But it
wasn’t. The world wasn’t finished fuckin’ with her yet. She awoke to find that the world had moved on, that
her goddess had moved on.”
Faith’s free hand returned to rummage through the drawer of the nightstand
until her fingertips brushed against soft cotton. She grabbed the bundle and lifted up, moving off Buffy and the bed in one
smooth motion. Faith ignored the interested eyes that watched her every move as she opened the bundle of cloth to reveal the
leather and silicone within. It was with practiced ease that Faith prepared the harness and its’ attachment.
“She was lost, so alone and abandoned once more. Then she discovered
that the man who’d been the father she’d never had had left her one last gift. She felt hope, hope that she’d
finally be able to leave the broken girl behind. But she found that she couldn’t, ‘cause there was a part of her
that hadn’t broken, hadn’t been tainted by the darkness and she couldn’t just forget.”
Buffy gazed on, entranced by the movements of Faith’s hands. The left
corner of Buffy’s mouth quirked from faint amusement as she watched flesh-toned silicone bob as it was fastened into
the harness. Then her gaze lifted back to Faith’s and Buffy’s smile faded. Skin flushed from arousal reddened
further at the heated need in those dark, almost black-as-night irises.
Faith tugged the harness gently to test the fit, the habit formed well before
they’d bought their custom-made accoutrements. If someone had ever had a harness break in the middle of sex, then they’d
understand the action. It wasn’t something that felt very nice. No matter how much Faith enjoyed pain, that particular
kind would never be a part of it.
She stepped closer to the bed, and then paused as movement caught her attention.
Her gaze fell to Buffy’s hands and her breath hitched as she watched. Dainty, yet very talented fingers danced over
the cuts on Buffy’s stomach, spreading the blood around a little. Then her fingers continued on a downward path, edging
closer to short, neatly trimmed dark brunette curls.
Buffy let her thighs fall open, exposing herself to Faith’s view. Her
fingers slid up and down over her outer lips in a caress, then gently teased the crease, edging further inside with each pass.
She peered up through her eyelashes at the brunette who still stood by the side of the bed. Seeing that Faith was watching
her intently, Buffy allowed her fingers to brush firmly against her clit sooner than she’d wanted, knowing it wouldn’t
be allowed for long.
A low growl was all the warning she got. Then Faith’s body was pressed
tight against hers, her weight pinning Buffy to the bed. Faith’s hips settled into the cradle of her thighs, pressing
the strap-on hard against Buffy’s apex and forcing her to move her hand. Faith nuzzled Buffy’s throat and then
moved her mouth up to her ear, nipping at the lobe before she spoke.
“Mine.”
Buffy only nodded. It was something she’d noticed early on in their relationship.
Neither one of them liked the thought of anyone else touching the other, not even if it was just a little self-loving. It
made them irrationally, violently jealous and angry to even think about it.
“The only thing she could think of was endin’ it. But the young
woman couldn’t do it. The part of her that wasn’t broken, the thing that made her what she was, it wouldn’t
let her. She wasn’t about to let her goddess fall that far, so she went to the one other person who could do it.”
Faith’s right elbow supported her, propped up near Buffy’s head.
As she spoke, her left hand was free to answer the cravings she had to touch the bare skin beneath her. She dragged her nails
up the thigh fixed tight against her hip, then brushed her palm down it to soothe the pain. Then she slipped her hand over
that soft flesh until her fingertips brushed the underside of a firm breast.
Buffy whimpered softly, her belly clenching as a calloused hand cupped her
breast. Faith’s thumbnail scraped over the distended flesh, sending a little jolt to Buffy’s clit. Buffy hooked
her calf over the back of Faith’s thigh, using it to pull Faith harder against her. She rotated her hips, grinding against
the unyielding, rapidly warming object between Faith’s thighs.
“She let her darkness creep out again, let it guide her as she drew him
out. She tortured, tormented, ranted at one close to him, one who had betrayed her in the past. Then he came and for the first
time in her life, someone finally saw, someone finally cared. He saw what lay beyond her darkness, saw the child that had
been abandoned and forgotten.”
Faith shifted, gripped the dildo in her hand and dragged the tip over Buffy’s
soaked curls, through her swollen lips. She ignored Buffy’s silent pleas for contact, ignored the urges of their bodies
for the moment. She guided the dildo to Buffy’s entrance, slipped it inside just a little, but held her hips back to
keep Buffy from impaling herself on it. Then Faith tilted her head, glancing up through a curtain of hair to lock eyes with
her lover.
“Then the world came crashin’ back in on ‘em, bringin’
with it her goddess and the reminder that the one person she needed to see her, never would,” As she said this, the
heated need in Faith’s gaze faded somewhat, giving way to old anger and hurt once again. Faith’s control slipped
just a little, her expression darkening, and she slammed the dildo into Buffy’s pussy without warning. She grabbed Buffy’s
thigh, fingers leaving red marks as she maneuvered Buffy into position.
Faith pulled Buffy’s leg up over her shoulder, spreading Buffy wide open
for her. She ignored the hands suddenly grasping at her back, focusing wholly on letting out her anger. Only a Slayer could’ve
taken the brunt of this, and it was unlikely that an Empowered one could’ve. Not that Faith really cared, since there
was only one person that entered her fantasies these days.
Buffy cried out at the change in angle. The pain from the sudden invasion was
fading rapidly, starting to bleed into pleasure as Faith hit every one of her spots. Buffy’s pussy walls clenched around
the hard shaft, pulling the dildo deeper inside of her. She tightened her leg around Faith’s back and shifted, gaining
leverage to help pull Faith harder against her.
“Oh God yeah,” Faith gasped as she tightened around the other end
of the double headed dildo.
Faith shook her head roughly and released Buffy’s thigh, content in the
knowledge that Buffy wasn’t interested in letting go anytime soon. Faith’s hand dropped to the mattress and she
shifted again, her hips somehow thrusting into Buffy even harder. She swooped down to press a quick, firm kiss to Buffy’s
lips and then caught Buffy’s gaze.
“She asked of her goddess how to make it right, how to fix what she’d
done. But her goddess was unrelenting, unforgiving in her anger,” She gasped, cutting her words off as Buffy rolled
her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “Her goddess turned her back on her, sent her away.”
Buffy surged up, capturing Faith’s lips with her own. She plunged her
tongue into the warm cavern of Faith’s mouth, exploring it with desperation. She didn’t pull back until they were
both dizzy from the lack of air. Sharp white teeth nipped at Faith’s bottom lip.
“Shut up and fuck me,” Buffy commanded roughly, voice nearly inaudible.
Chapter Four: Harder to Breathe
The harsh whisper made Faith shiver and just like that, the mood shifted again.
The movement of Faith’s hips gentled, slipping into a smooth rolling motion that wouldn’t be denied. Faith reached
up and gently pried Buffy’s leg away from her shoulder, guiding the limb back onto the mattress. Then she stretched
her body out along Buffy’s, reveling in the feel of skin against skin.
Her breasts ached for touch, the nipples painfully hard, and as if hearing
their need, Buffy reached for them. The first touch of Buffy’s palms against her nipples made her tremble and Buffy
smiled. Then she lifted her head and brought her mouth up to Faith’s, gently gliding her lips over Faith’s. Buffy
pulled back and brought one hand up to gently trace Faith’s lips.
Faith’s lips parted and she sucked Buffy’s index and middle fingers
inside. She wrapped her tongue around the slender digits, sliding the muscle over and around them as she moved her head up
and down. She kept match with the cadence of their hips, sucking gently on Buffy’s fingers. The soft whimper the act
elicited from Buffy made Faith smile slightly.
It was almost too much. Buffy was proud to be a woman, really she was. But
the wet warmth surrounding her fingers, the suction of Faith’s mouth, was almost enough to make her weep. It was the
only time she’d ever, ever wished she’d been born a man instead.
It took everything she had to force herself to slip her fingers out. Then it
was Faith’s turn to whimper and the sound made Buffy’s pussy clench the dildo so hard Faith was forced to stop
moving for a bit. Buffy picked up where Faith had left off with ease, her hips undulating against Faith. It was the cool air
on her soaked fingers that reminded her of what she’d intended.
Faith’s back arched when Buffy’s slick fingers circled around her
areole, pushing herself firmly into the touch. Faith let out a low grunt, feeling her clit throb as her nipples tightened.
She grabbed Buffy’s hip and shifted, getting her thighs slightly under Buffy’s to get a different angle. She felt
Buffy’s legs wrap around her back, locking together at the ankles under her ass.
“Faith,” Buffy whined, her legs pulling Faith impossibly closer.
“Yeah, baby,” Faith panted, shaking her head slightly to get her
hair out of her eyes.
“H—harder,” Buffy said, her voice shaking with the plea.
Faith only denied those kinds of requests when she wanted to torment Buffy.
And this wasn’t one of those times. Faith dipped her head, letting her lips caress Buffy’s jaw as she complied.
She drove her hips forward and rolled them back just to do it all over again.
The sound of skin slapping against skin joined the symphony of their heavy
breathing and the passage of both ends of the dildo through their wetness. Moans and whimpers escaped them as they moved closer
to the pinnacle of release. The noises served to send them that much higher.
Faith took both of Buffy’s hands in hers, entwining their fingers together
as she stretched their arms up above Buffy’s head. She dipped her head down, taking Buffy’s lips in a hard kiss.
Her tongue thrust past Buffy’s lips, plunging into the hot wetness beyond. She felt suction on her tongue and she made
a noise that was half moan, half sigh into the kiss.
Buffy’s chest was burning for oxygen by the time they backed away from
the kiss and she let her head drop back onto the pillow as she sucked in air. Her eyes opened half-mast, her gaze drifting
to the sweat trickling down between Faith’s breasts. She tried to pull her right hand free from Faith’s grip but
Faith wouldn’t let go. She chuckled hoarsely and lifted her head instead, bringing her mouth close enough to dart her
tongue out to tease the sweat-slicked surface.
Buffy shivered at the moan Faith gave and smiled briefly. Then she returned
to her task, lapping at the thin film of sweat coating her lover’s skin. She dragged the flat of her tongue up to the
hollow of Faith’s throat, and then she narrowed her tongue to a point and trailed it up her throat and over her chin.
Buffy gently teased the corner of Faith’s mouth and then took her full bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling gently
and drawing a soft sound of pleasure from Faith.
Gentleness turned harsh when sharp teeth clamped down, no warning whatsoever.
Faith’s breath came out in a hiss and her eyes slammed shut in pleasure. The fresh taste of blood filled her mouth and
she groaned deep in her throat. She felt her pussy spasm in response.
Buffy suckled on the wound, taking in every drop of blood that trickled out.
Her clit twitched in reaction to the needy groan that escaped Faith. She followed as Faith tried to pull back until she had
no choice but to release her. Then she let her head fall back to the pillow again, gazing up at Faith through her eyelashes.
Nothing compared to this view. Faith was holding herself up on her elbows,
keeping her head tilted back slightly to put some room between them. She’d tossed her hair back, letting it trail down
her back in long curls. Her skin glistened wetly with sweat, the olive tone darkening to a bronze hue in the golden-orange
candlelight.
Her nearly black eyes stared back at her, amusement and desire mingling. That
look made Buffy tremble with the need to come. She could already feel it building, feel it making her clit tingle and her
pussy throb. It was slow going, barely edging closer with each thrust of her lover’s hips.
Faith felt like she was going to go insane if she didn’t come soon. Her
heart was racing, thundering through her ears. She could hardly pull in enough breath, leaving her dizzy and light headed.
Her pussy was clenching around the dildo, pulling it further inside with each thrust.
Her focus was narrowing to one point, eyes drifting shut in pleasure. She could
almost feel herself inside Buffy; feel her warmth surrounding her, strong muscles pulling her in deeper. She felt Buffy all
around her and she was all over her and Faith was getting close. Faith inhaled sharply, forced her eyes open, and looked back
down at her lover as she fought for control.
Buffy had never looked more beautiful to Faith than at that moment. Her blonde
hair was drenched in sweat, sticking to the sides of her face and fanning out over the black pillow case beneath her head.
Golden peach-toned skin was flushed pink and radiating heat. Buffy’s hazel irises had faded to wheat, and were nearly
engulfed by the black of her enlarged pupils.
Buffy could tell Faith was getting close. She recognized the signs of Faith’s
struggle. There really wasn’t much difference between her struggle to control her anger and this one. That look of intense
focus and fierce determination remained the same.
Buffy loved pushing her lover too far sometimes. The results were always...
interesting, to say the least. Buffy smiled, the innocent expression betrayed by the glint in her eyes. Then she pivoted her
hips, making Faith collapse on top of her with a whimper.
“Fuck, B,” Faith choked out, “You can’t do that!”
Faith shook her head and lifted back up onto her elbows. She threw her hair
back again and glared down at her lover. She scraped her nails over the back of Buffy’s hand in warning.
Buffy’s lower lip jutted out just a little and she asked, “Why
not?”
“You know why,” Faith snapped.
“C’mon, say it,” Buffy taunted.
Faith growled and pounded into Buffy harder. She wasn’t taking the bait.
Buffy opened her mouth to speak again and Faith swooped down, slamming their mouths together and shoving her tongue in her
mouth. It was the best way she’d discovered to shut Buffy up once she got started.
Anger at Buffy’s tendency to push her flared white hot and sudden. Faith
released Buffy’s left hand, untangling their fingers and letting hers trail down Buffy’s arm. She let her fingertips
trace the straining tendons of Buffy’s wrist, sliding over and around them. Then she continued down, massaging and caressing
the tense muscles of Buffy’s upper arm.
Her hand slid down over Buffy’s shoulder, easing the tension there before
moving on again. Her fingers caressed the tendons at the side of Buffy’s throat, sliding up and around. Then she let
her hand just rest there, her palm following the motion as Buffy swallowed. Faith’s thumb caressed the underside of
Buffy’s jaw as her index and middle fingers teased the side of Buffy’s throat.
Their gazes locked and Buffy knew what was coming. She hadn’t been Faith’s
lover for four years without pressing this particular button. It was a familiar reaction. That was the reason she had the
foresight to inhale deeply before strong fingers clamped down hard around her throat.
Buffy flushed with a new kind of heat. She always reacted strongly to this.
It sent a surge of arousal through her, brought her to the edge and held her there while Faith sought her revenge. It hurt,
made her chest burn, made her shake with fear and arousal, and toyed with her darkness.
Faith was now pounding into Buffy with every ounce of her strength. She was
out of control and loving every exhilarating second of it. There was a moment of disassociation, like she was outside her
body, and then Faith was sucked back in as her body tightened. Her pussy convulsed around the dildo and she slammed into Buffy
one last time, grinding their hips together in a frantic circular motion as her orgasm crashed through her.
The pressure against her clit from the harness was all Buffy needed to set
her off. She cried out silently, arching up against Faith as the throbbing in her pelvis expanded. Her release swept over
her, rushing out in a gush of fluids from her pussy. She teetered on the edge of unconsciousness as her body struggled for
oxygen, not even noticing as Faith released her throat.
Faith collapsed on top of Buffy, her chest heaving almost as badly as Buffy’s
was. She’d never experienced such an intense orgasm until the first night she’d slept with Buffy. It never failed
to sap every bit of her energy, either. It was that very reason Buffy had been teasing her about.
Faith didn’t want to move from this warm, wet haven, she didn’t
want to wipe their come from her thighs. She wouldn’t, at least not until Buffy made her. Which, considering the fact
that Buffy was still desperately sucking in air, that could be a while. And that suited Faith just fine, for more reasons
than the fact that even her eyelids were too heavy to lift right now.
Chapter Five: Not-So-Innocent Temptation
A shrill sound broke the silence of the dark room. A pair of dark brown eyes
snapped open, immediately narrowing to glare at the nightstand. Then the stare was turned on her lover in incredulity when
Buffy didn’t even budge at the second ring of the cell phone. Faith snorted.
“How the fuck can you sleep with that noise?”
There was no answer, not that she’d expected one. She sighed. Buffy could
sleep like the dead when she was exhausted. A smug grin creased her lips as her own body ached in satisfaction.
It was erased as the phone rang again. Faith groaned and shifted to lean over
Buffy and grab the phone. The name on the caller ID would’ve taken care of her amusement had there been any.
Rosenberg, Will & Ken
One of these days, I’m gonna give
‘em a heart attack and answer B’s phone. Faith shook off the temptation and collapsed back on the bed with a grunt, dropping the phone on Buffy’s
black sheet clad belly. It wasn’t the first time someone had searched for Buffy during their playtime, far from it.
It just wasn’t often that it happened early in the morning on their weekends off.
Her brow furrowed and she lifted her head to glance back down at the now silent
phone. Aight, so maybe it ain’t that early. Fuck, how late were we up last night?
Not that it really matters.
She shrugged and let her head drop back to the pillow. Thankfully they were
in one of the Academy’s empty dorm rooms instead of one of their apartments. There was less chance of someone showing
up to find them in person if they didn’t answer their phones. Willow would only do a locator spell if it was an emergency,
and they’d be too busy to care in that case.
Faith’s brow furrowed again and then smoothed out. Not that she’d
care in any event. Maybe it would get them off of Buffy’s back about dating. Hell, it’d probably even get them
to stop looking at her strangely just because she wasn’t running off every night to get laid.
They’d probably be all up in my shit
too if they could find me as often as they find B. Faith grinned evilly. If they’d look a little closer, like
in B’s bed, they’d find me too.
It was a private source of amusement for the Chosen Two. As had been the habit
in Sunnydale, their friends often dropped in on Buffy unannounced. They had no clue whatsoever how close they’d come
to catching Faith and Buffy in the act. Faith had on occasion found herself falling asleep while waiting for Buffy to finally
manage to get rid of her visitors.
It happened a little less often when they crashed at Faith’s apartment,
at least. But it had happened there a few times over the years as well. The first time had caught Faith completely off guard.
She’d never expected them to show up at her place just looking to hang out, but they had.
“Hey, Faith,” Willow had
chirped. “I hope it’s all right that we dropped in.”
Faith had only been able to blink, stunned.
Yes, they’d gotten closer since Sunnydale—it was inevitable when sharing close quarters. Then they’d spent
a lot of time together as they got the Academy in order last year, but this was more than that. It took her a while to regain
her senses.
“What the fuck are you guys doin’
here?” Faith blurted out.
“We thought maybe you’d enjoy
a movie night,” Xander replied, holding up the little white Blockbuster bag as his expression fell just slightly.
It had been the faintest sound of giggles
from her bedroom that had kicked Faith into gear. She’d made a silent vow to herself that Buffy would get hers before
she stepped back to clear the doorway. She’d waited for them to come in and then shut the door behind her.
It was then that Xander seemed to almost
clue in. He’d taken a deep breath and then glanced at her with a faintly glazed look. Then he shook his head briefly
and smiled sheepishly at her.
“Guess we should’ve called,
huh?”
“No,” She shook her head,
finally finding her balance again. “This is fine. Just make yourselves comfy and I’ll grab us some drinks while
one of you fixes the popcorn.”
She’d ignored the Buffy-ism that
had slipped into her speech as she turned towards the kitchen. She’d only been a little nervous about having Xander
follow her into the kitchen. It was close to her bedroom, and who knew what would set Buffy to laughing again. She’d
been turning away from the fridge with four bottles of Budweiser in her hands when Xander spoke again.
“Guess Buffy has a new boyfriend,”
Xander said over the sound of the microwave. “She wasn’t at her apartment and didn’t answer her cell when
we called.”
Faith had frozen in the action of turning
and only Slayer-fast reactions had kept her from dropping the beer. She’d closed her eyes briefly as she smirked at
another quiet giggle from the bedroom. Oh yeah, Buffy was going to get it as soon as they were gone.
And she had, too, Faith thought with a chuckle. Then she felt the change in
Buffy’s breathing pattern as she began to return to consciousness and Faith’s train of thought derailed. Faith
shifted to her side and lifted up on her elbow, gazing down at Buffy. The sight caused her to smile.
Even at her angriest, the sight of Buffy as she slept made Faith’s heart
melt. There was just something about how relaxed, how innocent she looked, that got to Faith. The only expression that matched
it was the one Buffy got when they were in post-coital bliss. It was beautiful.
It made her a little angry too. Because there were better times past that she
remembered those peaceful looks were far more frequent in. She recalled a younger Buffy that smiled frequently—even
if it was mostly flustered around Faith—one that laughed more freely and blushed often. She kind of hated everyone that
had contributed to this mostly jaded Buffy, including herself.
An arm reached up and wrapped around Faith’s neck, jerking her down to
meet Buffy’s lips. She grunted in reaction, gaining a husky giggle from Buffy. At least there were still some parts
of Buffy that remained innocent, she mused. Though, even Faith had to admit that the hand creeping up the back of her thigh
towards her ass wasn’t one of those parts.
Faith settled down along Buffy’s body, returning the gentle caress of
lip over lip. She kept it light, knowing that if she was sore, then Buffy was even more so. Maybe later on it would be her
turn to get a thorough working over. And if their habits ran true to form, then it would be.
Faith shivered in anticipation. A set of manicured nails dug into the sensitive
flesh of her left buttock and she tensed, inhaling sharply as heat flooded through her. A soft chuckle answered her reaction.
There was a distinct possibility Faith’s turn would come sooner than expected.
“Mmm, good morning,” Buffy murmured against her lips.
Oh, yeah, Buffy really loved Saturdays.
Specifically, Saturdays when she woke up in one of the dorm rooms with Faith. Saturdays brought to mind long hours spent in
bed making each other cry out their pleasure until their voices went, then waking up sore Sunday to do it all over again.
Saturdays made all the trouble they had to deal with the rest of the time more than worth it.
It was a sign of a bad week coming for them to get interrupted during their
weekend trysts. That was the reason they had begun escaping to an empty dorm room on the academy grounds during their breaks
about a year ago. They still had occasional interruptions, but nowhere near as many as when they stayed home. It made their
chances of discovery a little higher due to student traffic, but neither of them was really all that concerned with the thought
of being found out.
“Mornin’, B,” Faith replied, pulling back slightly to lift
up onto her elbows.
Her eyes drifted down from Buffy’s and she paused, wincing as her gaze
fell on Buffy’s throat. Sometimes it unsettled her, made her feel guilty, when she saw the marks she left behind. She
felt a little wrong in her skin, thinking about how much she’d enjoyed making them. It was a reminder of the darkness
that always waited just beneath her skin, tainting everything in her life.
It was fleeting, however, when she recalled how much Buffy had enjoyed having
it done to her. That was her one saving grace. It was proof that she could control the darkness inside of her, no matter how
much it ached to have free reign. It was a safety net that she couldn’t lose.
Faith bent her head, nuzzling her face into Buffy’s neck. She let her
lips brush over the bruising, which had all ready faded to dark reddish purple and greenish shades. Faith smiled as she felt
a shiver work its’ way through her lover. Then she took a teasing lick of the soft skin, pulling a low, drawn out moan
from Buffy.
“Like that?”
“Uh-huh,” Buffy murmured, stroking her hands up the smooth skin
of Faith’s back.
Faith could feel the deliciously slow buildup of arousal starting, heating
their bodies up again. Faith lifted her head back up and Buffy took advantage of the moment, capturing full lips with her
own. Buffy sighed into the kiss, running her hands up to tangle in Faith’s hair. She gently drew her nails over Faith’s
scalp, reveling in the groan that vibrated against her lips.
Faith shifted, feeling Buffy’s cell phone dig into her stomach between
their bodies. She trailed her hand down over Buffy’s chest, loving the feel of flexing muscle beneath Buffy’s
skin. Her knuckles brushed the side of Buffy’s breast, drawing another groan from her. Faith tilted her head, making
the contact between their mouths firmer, fitting their lips together perfectly.
She teasingly traced the tip of her tongue over Buffy’s top lip, and
then shifted just enough to give the bottom one the same treatment. Then she slipped her tongue between the parted lips, plunging
into the wet heat beyond. As her tongue played with Buffy’s, Faith let her hand continue on its’ downward path.
She splayed her hand out flat just below Buffy’s breasts, her fingertips
brushing the undersides. She kept her hand relaxed, moving with the slightly elevated rhythm of Buffy’s breathing. She
glided her hand down, sliding it over the downy peach-fuzz that covered Buffy’s body. Faith’s nails gently scraped
her skin, making Buffy shiver and leaving goose bumps in her wake.
The base of her palm bumped the hard plastic of the cell phone and she lifted
her hand to grab it just as the ringtone went off. Faith couldn’t stop the low, rumbling growl that tore from deep in
her chest as she pulled back from the kiss. She snatched the phone up, glaring at it. It was evil.
Buffy had been content to lay back and let Faith explore to her heart’s
content. Then the phone rang, startling her. A whimper escaped her as Faith’s lips left hers, and then another at the
noise emanating from her lover. She wasn’t sure whether to cry in frustration or to laugh at the sound.
The sounds of Faith’s anger and frustration always stoked her arousal.
Buffy sighed and reached out to take the phone before Faith could throw or break it. With her free hand, Buffy reached up
to cup Faith’s cheek. Then she stroked her thumb soothingly over Faith’s skin.
The anger drained from Faith as she felt that gentle touch. She sighed and
gave Buffy an aggrieved look. It was difficult to stay angry when Buffy was touching her like that sometimes. Faith sighed
as the phone rang again and flipped over, sprawling on her back next to Buffy.
“Answer it already, yeah?”
Buffy patted Faith’s belly and then let her fingers stay there, drifting
over the ridges of well-defined muscles. She glanced at the caller ID distractedly. Then it was her turn to sigh in annoyance.
Her mouth puckered slightly, the lower lip jutting out in a pout.
Rosenberg, Will & Ken
Buffy considered not answering, but only for a second. No matter how tempting
the thought was, the mature part of her mind wouldn’t let her ignore the call. She had too many responsibilities to
do something like that. Too many people, too many young Slayers, depended on her.
She also considered that the reason for the call could be personal rather than
professional. That thought brought an intense surge of irritation rushing through her. Buffy didn’t want to talk to
her if Willow was just going to start in on her lack of dating again. Buffy smirked.
Faith was given no warning when the phone was suddenly tossed at her. She caught
it, holding it away from her by her thumb and index finger in disgust. She shot an annoyed glare at Buffy. She really, really
did not want that thing if it was going to keep ringing.
“What the Hell, B?”
Buffy chuckled, tossing the sheet off of her. She climbed from the bed and
stretched, groaning as her body protested. A delicious ache from the night’s activities had set in, making itself known
as she moved. Buffy glanced over her shoulder at Faith, her enhanced senses allowing her to see Faith just fine in the very
faint glow of sunlight coming from the covered window.
“You might want to answer that, F. It could be important.”
“It’s your phone,” Faith retorted. “I ain’t answerin’
it. Are you tryin’ to give her a heart attack?”
“She’ll live,” Buffy replied dryly as she retrieved a t-shirt
from the floor.
She pulled it on over her head, stifling a groan as the cuts on her stomach
and back pulled with the movements of her arms. She shifted her shoulders and then crossed the room to the dresser. She ran
a brush through her hair in quick strokes and then tossed it back onto the dresser as she moved towards the door. She paused
briefly with her hand on the knob to shoot a questioning glance at Faith before she left the room, feeling a nervous ball
form in the pit of her stomach.