|
|
~I got you crawling up a mountain,
Spike looked up hopefully as the door of Giles's house swung open. To his great pleasure, Buffy stepped through the door. "Giles?"
"He's out for a bit, luv. For the weekend, actually."
He watched as her eyes narrowed dangerously and she took a threatening step closer to the counter. "What?! I got an email saying-"
"From me," he supplied easily, an amused smirk masking nervousness Spike would never acknowledge. "I knew you wouldn't come if I asked." He walked slowly around the counter, watching Buffy the entire time. "You got my letter though?"
"The first one."
Spike watched as a faint blush crept over her cheeks. A smile of pure self-satisfaction appeared on his face. "You did then."
"Yes. But, Spike, I don't know if . . . I mean, I did kind of like it, but . . ." Her hands twisting together unconsciously, Buffy's eyes searched the floor for something to say, a way out. "I just don't think it's a good idea. I mean, Riley is-"
"The most boring wanker in the world," Spike supplied, stepping closer. "There's no spark, is there? Between you and 'im, I mean."
Buffy stepped back, stammering, "Th-there's a spark. A nice, warm, fuzzy spark too."
"Sparks aren't warm and fuzzy; they're hot and dangerous." With one finger, Spike lifted her chin and looked into the wide, beautiful eyes. "I'm a spark, luv. Riley . . . he's some kind of deranged teddy bear with a big gun. And probably a pretty small gun backing it up. Nobody with nothing to make up for needs all the army gear." He grinned at her obvious uneasiness. "You didn't seem all that nervous to be around me a couple of weeks ago."
"Spell. Bad, evil spell."
"Wasn't as bad as all that, was it? You said yourself you enjoyed every minute." Spike ran his finger from her chin down her throat to the top button of her blouse. His other hand joined it in slowly unbuttoning the shirt.
"Spike, I . . ." Her would-be protest dissolved as his lips placed a gentle kiss in the hollow of her throat, tongue flicking out to wet the skin. "Spike . . ."
"Just relax, luv."
~If we sleep together,
Will you like me better?
If we cum together,
We'll go down forever.
If we sleep together,
Will I like you better?
If we cum together,
Prove it now or never
Make me a pretty person
Make me feel like I belong
Make me hard and make me happy
Make me beautiful
The emptiness
The craziness
Satisfy this hungriness
Darling, how would it feel?~
Spike guided her blindly to the couch, his kisses centering on her full, soft lips. He pulled her down on top of him, pushing the shirt from her shoulders and impatiently tugging off her white sports bra. Then he took her right nipple into his mouth, sucking briefly then pulling away, repeating the action until she moaned, threading her hands into his surprisingly soft hair. His attention was mimicked on her left breast, leaving Buffy gasping in pleasure.
Buffy took the initiative then, practically ripping off both his shirts and reaching for the buckle on his pants. He gently pushed her hands away, instead laying her back on the couch and sliding her short black skirt off. "This time it's for you, luv." Her panties soon followed the skirt to the floor and Spike placed a trail of kisses and gentle bites up her inner thighs. His tongue flicked out once more, immediately finding her clitoris.
Buffy arched her back slightly and grinned down at him. "You're right about that experience thing. Does make a difference."
"You haven't seen anything yet, Slayer." Spike's tongue moved back to her clit, teasing and licking until Buffy knew she couldn't take any more. Still, not giving her any reprieve, Spike held her thrashing body down and inserted two fingers into her sopping passage. "I think you're about ready."
"I swear if you don't do me right now I will stake you . . . just as soon as I can stand again," Buffy threatened. But her flushed face, mussed hair and shining eyes took a lot away from her case and Spike only smiled.
"You aren't the one in control here, Slayer. Not in control at all." He began rubbing her clit with his thumb to bring the point home, pleased at her utter lack of shielding, at how his every touch seemed to bring her closer to some indefinable edge. Though far from tired of watching her writhe helplessly, Spike shifted his position, withdrawing his fingers and poising his engorged cock a just above her entrance. "You sure you're ready?"
With a growl, Buffy wrapped her legs around his, pulling him into her and throwing her head back. Spike thrust slowly, almost painfully so, forcing her to move her hips against his. Their lips met, tongues tangling in an almost violent duel of passion. She moaned against his mouth as they each thrust faster, unable to wait for their impending release. Buffy cried out first, convulsing almost uncontrollably, dragging Spike over the edge with her as they both came.
~(If we sleep together) Nothing satisfies me, baby
(If we sleep together) I'll wear something pretty, baby
(If we sleep together) Give me what I crave now, baby
(If we sleep together) Save the rest for later, baby
(If we sleep together) You will drive me crazy, baby
(If we sleep together) I save it all for you, my baby.~
They sat together quietly on the couch afterward. Buffy had pulled her clothes back on and Spike followed suit. He felt some satisfaction when she finally leaned back against him and allowed him to wrap his arm possessively around her shoulders. "So, still wanna go back to army boy?" When she was silent for a few minutes, he prompted, "Truth, Slayer."
"No." She sighed and buried her head in Spike's chest as if she couldn't get close enough to him. "No, I don't. I don't . . . I've never . . . It was never like this," she finally finished.
"Never? Not even with nancy-boy?" He felt a slight head shake from the woman wrapped in his arms. "This is what you deserve, you know. Every single day of your Goddamned life, you deserve to have everything. Life's too short not to enjoy the hell out of it."
"Guess so. I . . . I enjoy being with you. And that . . . what just happened . . . that was amazing." She pulled back enough to look at his face, an amused smirk on hers. "Can we do that again?"
"Anytime you want, luv."
"How about-"
They both jumped as the door flew open. Giles set a pair of travel bags down, grumbling unhappily to himself. "Blasted-" He caught sight of Buffy sitting in Spike's arms and frowned darkly. "Why must it always be my house?" Holding up a hand to circumvent any actual replies, Giles continued, "I don't want to know. Don't tell me. I have just had the worst day of my life. This will not improve it. I am going to leave this room, take a hot shower and go to bed. You will . . . will finish whatever it is you're doing and then . . . then stop. Go away. Agreed?"
The pair nodded mutely, faces deadly serious. Satisfied, Giles walked resolutely out of the room.
"Is he gone?" Buffy whispered, giggling.
Spike pulled her back onto the couch. "Who cares!"