"Why can't I feel... my skin should crack and peel... I want the fire back"

"Afraid I'm gonna..." he starts to say but she's not listening to him anymore, hasn't been for some time. Instinct takes over. She lunges towards him and kisses him; kisses him because if she doesn't, she may kill him. And after a second, just as she knew he would, he kisses her back. By now, she's eating him up. She doesn't even feel her hand smash the wall because he's clutching her and pushing her backwards, slamming against her. His mouth eats at her lips, greedily sucking and it's harsh and fierce and it's just what she needs. As long as he is kissing her, she is able to feel. As long as he's pressing against her, his hard cock that she can so aptly sense; the heat of it, hotter than any dead body should be, hotter than Angel's ever was, then she knows that even if this is Hell, it's where she wants to stay. But he's got her pinned and she can't let him know that he holds that power over her, can't let him forget that she is the Slayer and just because she wants to fuck him, it doesn't change that fact.

She wants to fuck him.

It's the first time she's ever truly thought it and she pushes him away fiercely only to slam against him again, this time against a different wall. She feels the shaking around them but pays it no mind; for she craves him, needs him, and that's all that matters right now: nothing else. Not Dawn or demons or death.

She kisses him again, wildly. He lifts her up till her thighs are wrapped around his. They're so close, but it's not enough. She needs him to fuck her. And by the look in his eyes she knows he ... wants it too. She unzips his pants, and swiftly grips his cock. She manages to push aside as much clothing neccessary and then-- he stops ... and stares at her and their eyes lock on one another as she puts him inside her. She's shocked him, and herself, but it's too late to turn back now and she doesn't want to. With decisive precision she starts to move, slowly at first, her mouth dropping open in a silent prayer. And he's staring at her, a gaze filled with such lust and passion; it's been far too long. Brutal desire washes over them once again and he's spun her around so that she's pinned again. Yet this time she doesn't mind. She grips at the wall and lets out a moan. He's thrusting into her hard and she needs it -- she's taking it all, soaking it up. His breathing is harsh, he's grunting and suddenly she can't take it anymore. She needs to be even closer, deeper. She wants to be consumed by him, and she hates herself for it. She pushes him backward yet again and this time they fall -- and they keep falling. She dimly realizes that the place has been collapsing around them, that her violence and desire toward this -- man has gotten out of hand; and yet she keeps staring at him, because as long as he's inside her, she's alive. And she figures tonight, she can deal with the hate.