Power
of earth and old times. Buffy feels the connection.
She is Riley, she is Earth, she is old power and young strength.
She is lust and aching breasts and tight heat.
Violence
and blood-red lust entwine: each bite from Riley, each rake of nails down her
back, feels like love, and each thrust he makes up into her feels like knife
wounds.
She
is drunk, not on good wine or cheap beer, but on power searing hot through
her. She doesn't know if it's
natural, demonic, or a spell.
She
doesn't care. She is life, and
life is wild.