After the Interview

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Sequel to The Interview. What’s next for Buffy and Spike?

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Chapter 2

Buffy

I’m not helping him. I don’t know why, because I already know I want him. Already know he’s going to bring me more pleasure than anyone ever has. I’m already wet and tingly, my nerve endings standing on edge for him. His hand is rubbing my back, firmly at first but turning gentler as he tunes in to my response. I want him to take the pain away, want him to mask it with something else, even if only for an hour. The world will come back soon enough but right now he’s here, and he’s willing to stand between me and whatever is coming. And I want him to do that.

Hell, I just want him.

What would people say to that? Buffy wants Spike. True. Carve it in a heart on the old oak tree. Write it in a letter to Santa. Get one of those airplanes to write it in the sky in smoke.

His fingers are between my legs now, just a suggestion of what is to come. This man knows how to tease. One minute he’s all ‘take it all, have it all’ and the next he’s Mr. ‘look what I’ve got, and you can have it too if you beg real nice.’

He knows my body better than I do. Knows just where to skim his fingers, knows just how long to linger. Knows that he can get me off just with the anticipation of what he’s going to do to me. He’s asked me to remember, and I do, Spike, every detail. Do you think I could forget that? I didn’t stay away because I wanted to. I stayed away because I had to.

And then he stops. I have to look, see why he’s moving away. Off comes the tee shirt and suddenly I’ve got a fever. I’ve been cold these last few days, but just the sight of him being revealed, little by little is enough to send my temperature soaring.

Enough to drown me in a cascade of memories. If anything can make the world go away, it’s him doing this. But I can’t ask him, I can only let him. So I roll over onto my back and offer myself to him. My eyes are closed and I wait.


Spike

She thinks she can just lie there. Thinks I’m just going to service her, and go. I know what she’s doing. Wants to blame it all on me. Wants to tell herself that what happened before in my room could never happen in the real world. Buffy Summers in Spike’s world is a siren sex kitten capable of driving men mad with just a look, but here in her world of pink quilts and cuddly toys she’s just an innocent young girl with an extraordinary destiny.

Bollocks.

You’ve got quite a gift love, and I’m hooked, addicted. Never going to let you go. Don’t you now that yet?

“What do you want to remember first?” I ask her as I take off my jeans. I’m ready for anything she wants and I always will be.

“Do you want me to just fuck you? Hard and fast, remember that? Or do you want me to build you up nice and slow. Do you want to do it here, or shall I take you somewhere? Ever had sex in a public place, love? Outdoors? Do you know what it’s like to have someone inside you and be able to hear and see other people all around you. To know they might catch you at any moment and to still not care?

She opens her eyes and just stares at me. Then she crooks her finger and wordlessly calls me to her. It’s all the invitation I need, but where do I start? How do you thaw a block of ice?

You make it hot.

She props herself up, bending her elbows and watching me with half closed eyes as I kneel at the side of the bed. I hook my hands around her calves and pull her forward so she’s still lying, but her legs are dangling. She wears pretty panties, this girl does. I take a while to appreciate them as I pull them down her legs. She’d pretending not to help me, still thinks she’s not part of this, but her hips shift slightly in all the right places and her panties join my clothes on the floor. I kiss her on each knee, and she sits up, because she wasn’t expecting that. Thought I was going straight for the kill.

Believe it or not, I do have patience love. I could spend the next hour just kissing your knees and make you come at the end of it.

“You just lie there,” I tell her,” and think about how good this feels, and how much better it’s going to feel when my mouth is on your sweet pussy. We didn’t get this far before, did we?” I tell her between kisses. “I know what you taste like because you came on me, but I didn’t put my mouth on you, did I?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you want me to do it now?” I ask as I innocently kiss my way down her calf. “Do you want me to curl my tongue inside you? Clamp my mouth on your sexy little clitoris and suck as hard as I can? What’s wrong love, never heard it called that before? Been reading too many trashy novels?”

I stop momentarily and lean over the bed, put my face close to her ear. “Clitoris,” I say letting my tongue trail inside. Isn’t it a lovely word? Doesn’t it sound sexier than plain, old clit?”

She looks at me, startled.

I shrug. “Used to be a poet, love. Like playing with words. Just like that one.”

Ask me nicely Buffy, I won’t disappoint you.


Buffy

Some men just have a talent, I guess. Trouble is, once you find it out, everything else is just fumbling in the dark. Riley knew what to do, did it in all the right places, in the right order. But it never felt like this. Yeah I know Spike’s had a lot of practice, he’s perfected it down to an art. But he tells me it’s never been like this before, even for him.

When he kisses me it’s like I’m home, when his mouth leaves my skin, it’s like I’m lost. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say the words he wants me to. To ask him to do that thing to me that we, for some strange reason, just didn’t get around to before. But I want him to make me tell him, I can’t just say it, not here.


Spike

Okay slayer, I can do that. She’s not going to say it without a little encouragement. I understand. Where we got to before, that was then. Special circumstances. And now she’s done it, knows what she’s capable of, she’s scared. Scared of what she’s unleashed.

I slide my hands up the insides of her thighs and just look at her. And she’s looking at me looking at her.

“It’s where I belong, love, where I want to be. You only have to say the word.”

“What word is that Spike? She asks me.

And I can see she’s struggling to keep still, struggling not to react to my fingers, so close. My hands are at the top of her thighs now, one on each side, fingers splayed over her pelvis, framing that lovely place in between. Concentrating everything down to there. I twitch them ever so slightly and her breath catches. She’s nodding her head now, but she still hasn’t said the words.

“Want to hear them love, so that afterwards you can remember that you asked me to do this. So that no matter how much you blame me for it, and I don’t care if you do, you will remember that you wanted it as much as I wanted to do it.

She lifts her face to the ceiling, closes her eyes, clenches her jaw, but it’s a battle she’s not going to win. A very small “please” is all I need. Because God knows, I’m not sure I can hold out any longer either. Can smell her wanting me, and it’s driving me insane.


Buffy

But in a world of insanity this is all that makes sense.

“Touch me, Spike. Put your mouth on me. Take me back to where we were in your apartment. Take me anywhere but here.” I say it.

“You got it love.” He says it almost gleefully. One minute he’s a poet, the next he’s just a man, in so far as a vampire can be a man. And there’s the strange thing. Spike’s more a man than most of them that I’ve known.

His tongue’s cool, but I already knew that it would be. I wasn’t prepared for the delicacy though. For the sheer poetry in the way he moves it. I can feel his hair tickling the insides of my thighs as his head bobs up and down. His fingers tighten their grip sliding, down my legs until he’s pushing my knees up, opening me, pushing in even deeper. Licking my nerve endings raw, sucking in all the right places. And he just goes on and on until it feels like forever. But every time I feel the tightening and the throbbing and the rush, he pulls back, just a little until the wave dies down. Until I’m clawing at his head and urging him back and telling him that if he stops I’m going to stake him because he’s an evil, soulless thing to torture me like this.

And he chuckles to himself, smirks and calls me an impatient bint, and tells me he hasn’t even started yet. So I hold his head so hard that he can’t lift it and then he shows me the mercy I’m begging for. And I’m already halfway to forgetting the sadness of my life because, when I come, he takes me to a place that’s outside the world we shared in his decadent apartment, or what we’re sharing now, in my girly bedroom. To a world filled only with sensation.

Cool, silky wetness. Slippery heat. Shady desire. Uncontrollable passion.

His name, echoing in a space where the only other sound is my own, delerious breath.

“Spike,” breathe. “Spike, breathe. Spike, breathe. Come.


Spike

Never seen anyone shatter so much when they come. She’s all in pieces beneath my hands. Waiting for me to put her back together again. And I love the way she says my name when she’s like this. Makes me feel like I’m really here, in her room doing this to her. Otherwise I’d think it was all a dream.

Makes me think she loves me. And then I really am dreaming.

“Shh. I tell her, got to keep it quiet, remember?”

I crawl up beside her and tug at the tee shirt. “Take it off, love,” I ask her. “Want to see you naked again. Want to feel you naked against me. It’ll be another first love. Take it off.”

“You do it,” she tells me lifting her arms.

I wanted her to, but I’m just as happy to oblige, can’t afford to be fussy here. It’s dreamtime all over again. I pull it off and throw it down and I look at her. Only really caught a glimpse before, was in too much of a state to pay attention to what was happening. But now, I’ve got what? I look at the clock on her bedside table. Forty five minutes left? To look.

It’d be just like her to call time on the dot. I said an hour, and that’s all she’ll give me. Gotta keep moving. But all she seems to want to do is just lie there in the aftermath. Floating back down to earth, all loose and relaxed and just being there with me. Her skin slides against mine, slippery with sweat as I wrap myself around her, pathetically grateful now that she’s letting me do this with her.

I’m big and I’m bad, that’s the image I like to put about. I come swaggering in here full of macho talk about how I’m going to have her begging me for it, but it always ends up the same. I’m always so bloody overawed by all this. Just to hold her and have her still. Just to be allowed to listen to her breathe, to feel the steady beat of her heart.

To be able to tell myself that nothing in the world exists but this. I turn her so she’s facing me. “Want to see you, love,” I tell her. And when I use the word love, I don’t say it idly. Not to her. Never to her. She turns and a sleepy smile’s forming on her face.

“I guess it’s your turn now,” she tells me.

But I quieten her with a finger on her lips. “Your night tonight, love. I can wait, I’ll be back.”

She nods her head and drops her face to my chest. Muffled words tell me that all she needs is a little peace. Someone to tell her everything’s going to be okay. And can I do that for her?

I hook my leg over her thigh to bring her closer to me, wrap my arm around her back so that her breasts are pressed against me, and I rest my face in her hair.

“Would you like to stay like this?” I ask her. “Anything you want,” I say.

She nods her head against me and I hear only one word.

“Forever.”

“Then we’ll stay here love, if not forever, then for as long as time allows.”

It goes very quiet. All I can hear is her breathing and the clock ticking away the minutes, one by one. Soon I’ll have to go, but the longer I hold her, the more she becomes part of me. It’s like she’s melting into my skin, seeping into my pores, and I’ll never be able to wash her off. I’ll never want to.

“My poor, sad, little Buffy.” I murmur into the mad tangle of her hair. “What can I do to help? How can I make the pain go away? I’ll always be here for you, whether you want me or not.”

And it’s true. Even if she kicked me out right now, I’d spend the rest of my life behind those trees in her garden. Lurking in her shadow. Never so far away that I couldn’t feel her. Following at a safe distance.

Hey, I could be the first vampire to die of love.


Buffy

“Just hold me Spike, I just want to be still, here with you. Just need some peace.”

“Anything you want love,” he says. “Just want what you want. It’s enough.”

And for a while, it is all I want. Someone as strong as me to keep me here, where I need to be, because all I really want to do is run away. I don’t want to face what’s to come. But I know I’ll have to.

Patient Spike. Yet another side of him. Content to lie with me even though he’s more than ready to do what he came for. His cock is big and hard against me. And it talks its own special language. Spike may be content to lie still, but it doesn’t want to.

Is this the language of love, or just lust? His hips twitch, just a fraction and I become liquid. His leg hooks over my thigh and the bottom falls out of my stomach. His arm snakes around my back and I’m flush against him. And his face is in my hair and my scalp tingles and crawls as he purrs against me. Trying to lull me to sleep?

Not a chance in hell.

My body wants to dance. It can’t resist this leisurely invitation that he’s giving out without even knowing it. Or does he know exactly what he’s doing?

I only have to shift a fraction and the head of his cock is inside me. He raises questioning eyes.

“Yes?” he whispers.

“Oh yes,” I whisper back.

So he slides home where he belongs and we lie there, staring into each other’s eyes and doing no more than simply being as close as a two beings can get.

I fall asleep before it’s time for him to go and when I wake up he’s gone. I’m in my bed, dressed as I was before he appeared, and the world is back. I’m left wondering if it was all a dream, but then I move and I feel him seeping out of me. He’s put me back together again, even combed my hair. But so like him to leave that there.

I don’t remember him coming. Did it happen when I was asleep? Or did he come so quietly that I didn’t notice?

There’s an envelope on my pillow, with my name on it. I open it and read…
Thank you.

I love my sweet Buffy who can make me come without even noticing. But I love my naughty Buffy too.

Ever had sex in a public place love? Outdoors? Do you know what it’s like to have someone inside you and be able to hear and see other people all around you. To know they might catch you at any moment and to still not care?

Meet me on the corner or East and 2nd street tomorrow midnight.

Oh, and be sure to look properly in the envelope. It’s my favourite.

I’ll be waiting,

Spike.

It’s a photograph. Of me. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders forward, legs open, hands on my thighs. Wearing his shirt. And I’m smiling. I don’t remember smiling when he took this. I don’t remember being this happy.

They say the camera doesn’t lie..

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