KW Jordan


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Chapter Eight: Eat

Faith was sleeping. Sometime in the last half hour, she'd passed out. Buffy didn't notice until after she'd brought herself to orgasm twice against Faith's thigh. Now, Buffy shifted, lifting herself up on elbows that threatened to give out on her. She gazed down at the woman under her.

Buffy's handiwork was vivid. Faith's skin was littered with Buffy's marks, stained with her own blood, soaked in their sweat, drenched in Buffy's come. She reeked of Buffy, and Buffy closed her eyes, reveling in a savage sense of accomplishment. Even now, unconscious, Faith's body responded to Buffy, trembling as Buffy's thighs flexed involuntarily against her ass.

They weren't anywhere near finished yet. The fire and ice in Buffy's veins still simmered dangerously, and Buffy had every intention of sating her cravings. Unconsciously, her gaze softened, and she tenderly caressed Faith's hot, sweaty cheek. She would give Faith this moment of rest, allowing her body to replenish what Buffy had already taken from her.

Buffy's eyebrows furrowed. If she wanted to continue feeding, she needed to take care of Faith. Faith would need food, and something to drink. It had to be something nourishing. She considered that for a moment, and acknowledged that she probably needed something, too.

Gingerly, Buffy shifted herself off of Faith, not wanting to disturb her if she could help it. On her feet, she stared down at Faith, reluctant to leave her as she was. With all the stealth of a Slayer, Buffy slipped her arms under Faith and lifted her, pausing only when it seemed as if Faith was waking up. A few seconds passed without incident, and Buffy gently laid Faith to rest on her bed.

Leaning over Faith, Buffy paused, brushing the hair back from Faith's brow. She kissed her, allowing her lips to linger for a moment, then she left the room. At the top of the stairs, an idea occurred to her, and Buffy paused, focusing. Realizing that she and Faith were alone inside the house, Buffy took the stairs two at a time, dismissing her curiosity for the time being.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Buffy found herself at a loss. She knew Faith would eat anything, they had dinner together with Joyce once or twice a week. Still, Buffy was struck with an urge to make sure it was something healthy. Buffy opened the fridge and peered inside, debating, even as she distantly recognized that her behavior was getting even stranger than it had been.

No, not soda, or the tea... she needs something... Buffy growled, becoming mildly frustrated by her indecision, Just choose something already. It isn't like she's even going to care!

Milk, She decided abruptly, nodding in satisfaction. “She needs milk.”

Now, what do we have--ah, Buffy shifted some leftovers around, finding the fruit and meat trays Joyce had brought home from the gallery show the night before last. That will do nicely.


The first thing Faith noticed was that they weren't on the floor any longer. The bed felt like an embrace, gently welcoming her aching body. The second thing she noticed was that Buffy was seated next to her at the head of the bed, not actually touching her or even looking at her. The third thing she noticed was a delicious, tantalizing odor that made her stomach growl.

B ?” Her voice was strained.

“Hmm?” Buffy was slow to meet her gaze, as if dazed.

Faith knew she was still under the influence of the Incubus. Buffy's pupils still filled her eyes, surrounded by that odd ring of gold that made Faith shiver. Caught up in Buffy's gaze, it took Faith a moment to remember that she wanted to ask something. Shaking it off, Faith forced herself to move, rising up on her elbows to help herself summon up a little of her usual brash equilibrium.

“You got food?” She asked plaintively.

Buffy's expression brightened subtly, “You're hungry?”

“I could eat,” Faith chuckled shortly.

Wincing, she grabbed her throat. Laughter really wasn't the best medicine at the moment. She made a mental note to herself not to do that again anytime soon. Buffy's eyes focused sharply on the movement and she grabbed a dark blue cup off the nightstand, offering it to Faith.

“Thanks,” Faith sighed.

She rolled over cautiously and sat up, her weakened muscles protesting the whole way. She gratefully accepted the cup and brought it to her lips. Feeling a distinct sense of surprise when the taste of milk hit her tongue, she looked at Buffy in question. Buffy looked vaguely uncomfortable, for what was probably the first time that day, and it almost made Faith choke on the milk.

“I didn't want to give you anything else--I mean, it was a thing,” Buffy shrugged after a moment, once again not looking at her, “You needed something to replace the vitamins and stuff...”

“Alright, I can dig it,” Faith drained the cup, “Milk, it does a body good.”

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed flatly, then repeated her question, “You're hungry?”

“What you got for me, B?”

In answer, Buffy retrieved a tray from the nightstand and settled it on her lap. Faith reached out to grab some cheese, only to have her hand slapped away. Her mouth opened to protest, and Buffy unceremoniously shoved a piece in. Closing her mouth, Faith chewed, eyeing Buffy warily.

Testing it, Faith reached out again, pausing when Buffy's eyes narrowed. Laughing softly under her breath, Faith held up her hands in surrender. She leaned back against the pillows propped up against the headboard, draping her arms over her stomach. She shook her head in disbelief.

“Better,” Buffy breathed, rewarding her with a chunk of strawberry.

“You...” Faith drawled, “Are seriously fucked in the head, you know that right?”

“I'm getting that,” Buffy said caustically, “But keep moving, and you won't be the one getting fed .”

Faith stopped chewing. Buffy smiled sardonically to emphasize her warning, and Faith felt it all the way to her center. Seeing the fine tremor that shook the hand now offering her another bit of fruit, Faith immediately realized this was a serious show in restraint on Buffy's part. Parting her lips, Faith consciously forced herself to remain still as Buffy delivered the morsel to her.

“You goin' to eat, too?”

“Did,” Buffy shrugged, “You were sleeping. I was hungry. Didn't help. Story, end of.”

Faith fell silent. Savoring the flavors of the variety of meats, cheeses, and fruits Buffy continued to gift her with, Faith watched Buffy intently. And Buffy was focused almost entirely on Faith's mouth. As she ate, Faith could feel her body slowly beginning to respond to the attention.

It was pretty obvious that it was getting to Buffy. Her fingers brushed against Faith's lips a little more often with each bit, touching a little more firmly. The trembling in her hand became more pronounced. The smell of her arousal grew stronger, and Faith knew by the faint twitches in Buffy's carefully neutral expression that she could smell Faith's growing excitement as well.

Faith realized she was actually enjoying it. She couldn't hold back the genuine smile that curled the corners of her lips. As Buffy withdrew on the next pass, Faith deliberately let her teeth scrape across Buffy's thumb and index finger. Buffy's gaze jerked up to meet hers, wide in startlement.

Don't ,” Buffy warned her.

“Mmm, sorry,” Faith murmured.

“I'm sure,” Buffy drawled.

Buffy exhaled shakily and shoved a larger chunk of melon in Faith's mouth. As she resumed feeding Faith, Buffy's eyes kept flickering up to meet Faith's gaze with every bite. Faith could see her breathing picking up, the rise and fall of her bare chest growing more pronounced. Faith's gaze strayed lower, sweeping over Buffy's small, firm breasts, and she felt her own heartbeat stutter.

Buffy's already tense body snapped to attention and Faith looked up, finding Buffy's eyes shut firmly. Buffy was inhaling and exhaling in long, measured breaths, and her features were drawn up in pain. Faith ached just looking at her. Suddenly, Faith decided that she'd had her fill of food.

Faith raised up on her knees abruptly, drawing Buffy's eyes back to her. Those shining black and gold eyes snapped open, zooming in on Faith. Casually, Faith reached out and took the wooden dinner tray from Buffy, depositing it and the depleted contents on her former spot on the bed. She reached out, pushing Buffy back against the pillows and straddling her lap in one graceful move.

“Buffy?” Faith whispered.

After a second, “Yeah?”

“You're still lookin' a little peckish.”

Buffy blinked slowly, confused, “Come again?”

“Nah, I thought maybe you'd be comin' this time,” Faith shrugged, “If you're alright with that.”

“I'm...” Buffy whimpered softly, “Definitely alright with that.”

Faith's gaze fell to Buffy's neck. She cautiously brushed the tangled blonde hair over Buffy's shoulder, baring the wound. The unhealthy red glow had faded to a soft pink irritation. Faith deliberately swept her hand across it, smiling faintly at the more normal temperature.

“You're hungry?” Faith mocked gently.

“I could so eat,” Buffy breathed, agreeing.

To Be Continued in Chapter Nine

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