![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Paradise Perfect
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/Drusilla
Rating: R.
Summary: Written forseasonal_sd. Spike and Drusilla visit Kent to celebrate their one hundred and fifth anniversary.
Warnings: Water-play, asphyxiation-play (though I don't know how a vampire can be asphyxiated :D ).
Paradise Perfect
Hever Castle, Kent, England. 1985.
Making love in the open air had always given Spike great pleasure. After all, his first sexual encounter had been out-of-doors. He had been hardly fifteen minutes risen from the grave before Drusilla had embraced him and taken his virginity. The newness of the sensations his vampiric senses afforded him had been shocking and exciting and made all the more so by being outside where anyone could have stumbled upon them. Now, over a hundred years later, that same thrill had not dulled in Spike's mind, and neither had his desire for his Princess with her whimsical mannerisms and connection to the unseen mystical things in this world. She talked to fairies and danced to music only she could hear, though sometimes Spike fancied that he could hear it too. He worshipped her, held court to her every wish. Therefore, there was no better place for the two of them to celebrate their one hundred and fifth anniversary than at a real castle.
Located in Kent, England, Hever Castle had been the seat of the Boleyn family and had been passed to various noble families through the years until it was purchased by William Waldorf Astor in the early nineteenth century. Multitudes of renovations and almost eighty years later, the castle and grounds had been restored and open to the public. Spike had always found the ups and downs of the Tudor era to be a fascinating soap opera, much more entertaining than EastEnders. When he had heard of the castle being opened as a tourist attraction, he had hoped for a chance to go there on a bit of a holiday. One of the most excellent things about being a vampire is that one does not have to deal with crowds unless one wants to (or is in need of a meal). Even with the updating of the buildings and such, the same could not be said of the security. It was all too easy for the pair of vampires to enter the grounds and explore at their leisure.
Settling onto a small patch of grass in the middle of one of the carefully tended rose gardens, Spike and Drusilla made love almost wordlessly. After so many years together, they knew what the other needed, bodies moving in tandem, clothes strewn over flower bushes and statuary. Drusilla nipped at his jawline as she treaded her fingers through his hair. Spike left a path of kisses from her delicate collarbone up to her lips. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with reflected moonlight. They were soon caught in the throes of crisis, to coin a Victorian phrase, cleaving tightly to one another, leaving tiny plum-purple bruises and crescent moon-shaped cuts from white-knuckled hands. Recovering, Spike nuzzled his forehead against hers, like a large cat, as she rubbed his upper arms and shoulders.
When they finally parted, they continued their exploration of the gardens. Drusilla twirled about, her long raven hair cloaking her pale shoulders and breasts. Her fingers trailed over hedges and flowers, muttering lyrically to some pixie or imp that only she could see. Spike followed her, clad only in the night air, feeling completely comfortable in his nudity, his feet padding silently on the cobblestone pathways. Drusilla quickened her pace, giggling and chirping like a nightingale, and it was not long before Spike had lost sight of her as she ducked into a hedge-maze. They chased one another through topiary archways and flower-lined rows as free as children, playing Adam and Eve in their own private Eden... for a few hours at least.
Spike stopped momentarily to gain his bearings but started when he realized that his feet were wet. He looked down to see that he was standing in a narrow canal cut into a pathway. He gazed around at the intricately designs furrows with water being channeled through them from many of the large fountains in that section of the garden, creating a water-maze. He followed the path as it branched, letting his foot dip into the cool water every once and a while. He approached the central fountain with its fanciful scenes of putti playing various instruments. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, wincing a bit at the chilly stone pressed against his skin, Spike decided to wait until Drusilla had tired of hide-and-go-seek.
The wind picked up slightly, and Spike's flesh tingled with the storm looming on the horizon. The heavy breeze caused the hedges to rustle and undulate, casting strange shadows on the ground, especially those of the spiraled spire topiaries that flanked a partition in the hedgerow leading to another maze. He could almost imagine the shadows being living creatures, and he amused himself by creating a small backstory for such demons if they existed, what they would eat, what could kill them. A sudden sharp pain to his side caused Spike to be jolted from his musings, and he stood up, putting his hand to his hip. He had been bitten, and the wound oozed blood that looked black in the lack of light.
Turning quickly, Spike saw Drusilla's face from her eyes up in the water of the fountain. Her hair ebbed around her lazily like kelp. Her brow was ridged, and Spike could see a hint of fang beneath the water, giving Drusilla the appearance of a selkie or a demonic mermaid. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, but as he did, she jerked him into the fountain with a huge splash, water spilling out onto the stone walkway. Spike sputtered, rubbing his face, but he was quickly tackled back into the water. Much mock-growling and splashing followed, and Spike found himself under the water with Drusilla on top of him, straddling his hips.
Being held beneath the surface of the water instinctively made him want to thrash, but Drusilla's hands cupped his face, traced his lips, feeling slippery and silky and somewhat alien. Her knees dug into his sides as they coupled. Spike forced his eyes open, and he took in Drusilla's silhouetted form above him through the water as the pressure increased from his desire to take a breath. It did not matter if breath was unneeded for a vampire; Spike had difficulty reconciling air being unnecessary with the worrisome feeling of being unable to take in oxygen. His lungs burned as he struggled to keep his mouth shut, wanting to gasp as Drusilla's hips moved in a delightful circular motion. As he was brought closer and closer to completion, his body jerked, desperate to voice his ecstasy, but Drusilla's deceptively small hands held him in place. Reaching the brink of his orgasm, Spike's lips parted, and he inadvertently took in a mouthful of the cold water. His limbs flailed out, hands clutching at Drusilla, leaving jagged red marks as he clawed down her upper arms. Finally, she released him, and he arose from the water, coughing up water and gasping. Drusilla cooed softly to him, pulling his head to her shoulder and rubbing his back to help him relax. Spike smiled, feeling a tad lightheaded. His Princess never disappointed him in finding new and exciting things to try.
Heavy footfalls drew them out of their embrace. A trundling overweight night-watchman swinging a flashlight hurried towards the water-maze having heard the commotion of splashing water and yelping. He could not yet see them, but Spike and Drusilla grinned at one another when they saw him. Perhaps it wasn't too late for a midnight snack.
x-posted @seasonal_sd, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nekid_spike, and darker_spike.
Author:
fenderlovePairing: Spike/Drusilla
Rating: R.
Summary: Written for
seasonal_sd. Spike and Drusilla visit Kent to celebrate their one hundred and fifth anniversary. Warnings: Water-play, asphyxiation-play (though I don't know how a vampire can be asphyxiated :D ).
Paradise Perfect
Hever Castle, Kent, England. 1985.
Making love in the open air had always given Spike great pleasure. After all, his first sexual encounter had been out-of-doors. He had been hardly fifteen minutes risen from the grave before Drusilla had embraced him and taken his virginity. The newness of the sensations his vampiric senses afforded him had been shocking and exciting and made all the more so by being outside where anyone could have stumbled upon them. Now, over a hundred years later, that same thrill had not dulled in Spike's mind, and neither had his desire for his Princess with her whimsical mannerisms and connection to the unseen mystical things in this world. She talked to fairies and danced to music only she could hear, though sometimes Spike fancied that he could hear it too. He worshipped her, held court to her every wish. Therefore, there was no better place for the two of them to celebrate their one hundred and fifth anniversary than at a real castle.
Located in Kent, England, Hever Castle had been the seat of the Boleyn family and had been passed to various noble families through the years until it was purchased by William Waldorf Astor in the early nineteenth century. Multitudes of renovations and almost eighty years later, the castle and grounds had been restored and open to the public. Spike had always found the ups and downs of the Tudor era to be a fascinating soap opera, much more entertaining than EastEnders. When he had heard of the castle being opened as a tourist attraction, he had hoped for a chance to go there on a bit of a holiday. One of the most excellent things about being a vampire is that one does not have to deal with crowds unless one wants to (or is in need of a meal). Even with the updating of the buildings and such, the same could not be said of the security. It was all too easy for the pair of vampires to enter the grounds and explore at their leisure.
Settling onto a small patch of grass in the middle of one of the carefully tended rose gardens, Spike and Drusilla made love almost wordlessly. After so many years together, they knew what the other needed, bodies moving in tandem, clothes strewn over flower bushes and statuary. Drusilla nipped at his jawline as she treaded her fingers through his hair. Spike left a path of kisses from her delicate collarbone up to her lips. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with reflected moonlight. They were soon caught in the throes of crisis, to coin a Victorian phrase, cleaving tightly to one another, leaving tiny plum-purple bruises and crescent moon-shaped cuts from white-knuckled hands. Recovering, Spike nuzzled his forehead against hers, like a large cat, as she rubbed his upper arms and shoulders.
When they finally parted, they continued their exploration of the gardens. Drusilla twirled about, her long raven hair cloaking her pale shoulders and breasts. Her fingers trailed over hedges and flowers, muttering lyrically to some pixie or imp that only she could see. Spike followed her, clad only in the night air, feeling completely comfortable in his nudity, his feet padding silently on the cobblestone pathways. Drusilla quickened her pace, giggling and chirping like a nightingale, and it was not long before Spike had lost sight of her as she ducked into a hedge-maze. They chased one another through topiary archways and flower-lined rows as free as children, playing Adam and Eve in their own private Eden... for a few hours at least.
Spike stopped momentarily to gain his bearings but started when he realized that his feet were wet. He looked down to see that he was standing in a narrow canal cut into a pathway. He gazed around at the intricately designs furrows with water being channeled through them from many of the large fountains in that section of the garden, creating a water-maze. He followed the path as it branched, letting his foot dip into the cool water every once and a while. He approached the central fountain with its fanciful scenes of putti playing various instruments. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, wincing a bit at the chilly stone pressed against his skin, Spike decided to wait until Drusilla had tired of hide-and-go-seek.
The wind picked up slightly, and Spike's flesh tingled with the storm looming on the horizon. The heavy breeze caused the hedges to rustle and undulate, casting strange shadows on the ground, especially those of the spiraled spire topiaries that flanked a partition in the hedgerow leading to another maze. He could almost imagine the shadows being living creatures, and he amused himself by creating a small backstory for such demons if they existed, what they would eat, what could kill them. A sudden sharp pain to his side caused Spike to be jolted from his musings, and he stood up, putting his hand to his hip. He had been bitten, and the wound oozed blood that looked black in the lack of light.
Turning quickly, Spike saw Drusilla's face from her eyes up in the water of the fountain. Her hair ebbed around her lazily like kelp. Her brow was ridged, and Spike could see a hint of fang beneath the water, giving Drusilla the appearance of a selkie or a demonic mermaid. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, but as he did, she jerked him into the fountain with a huge splash, water spilling out onto the stone walkway. Spike sputtered, rubbing his face, but he was quickly tackled back into the water. Much mock-growling and splashing followed, and Spike found himself under the water with Drusilla on top of him, straddling his hips.
Being held beneath the surface of the water instinctively made him want to thrash, but Drusilla's hands cupped his face, traced his lips, feeling slippery and silky and somewhat alien. Her knees dug into his sides as they coupled. Spike forced his eyes open, and he took in Drusilla's silhouetted form above him through the water as the pressure increased from his desire to take a breath. It did not matter if breath was unneeded for a vampire; Spike had difficulty reconciling air being unnecessary with the worrisome feeling of being unable to take in oxygen. His lungs burned as he struggled to keep his mouth shut, wanting to gasp as Drusilla's hips moved in a delightful circular motion. As he was brought closer and closer to completion, his body jerked, desperate to voice his ecstasy, but Drusilla's deceptively small hands held him in place. Reaching the brink of his orgasm, Spike's lips parted, and he inadvertently took in a mouthful of the cold water. His limbs flailed out, hands clutching at Drusilla, leaving jagged red marks as he clawed down her upper arms. Finally, she released him, and he arose from the water, coughing up water and gasping. Drusilla cooed softly to him, pulling his head to her shoulder and rubbing his back to help him relax. Spike smiled, feeling a tad lightheaded. His Princess never disappointed him in finding new and exciting things to try.
Heavy footfalls drew them out of their embrace. A trundling overweight night-watchman swinging a flashlight hurried towards the water-maze having heard the commotion of splashing water and yelping. He could not yet see them, but Spike and Drusilla grinned at one another when they saw him. Perhaps it wasn't too late for a midnight snack.
x-posted @
seasonal_sd, nekid_spike, and darker_spike.