Chapter 46
She clutched the damp towel against her chest, her clothes bunched under her arm, as she walked slowly; the sloshing sound of her wet feet in her plastic flip-flops following her down the empty hall. She stopped when she reached the white door, taking in a deep breath and pressing her lips together before she silently turned the knob. A smile crept its way onto her lips when she saw him lying on the bed; the soft moonlight coming from the open window painting his bare chest in tones of blue. His feet were firmly planted on the floor while his torso lay sprawled on the mattress, left arm resting at his side while his right one was folded over his face, partially covering it, revealing only his lips and chin.
Soundlessly, she pushed the door open, taking off her flip-flops and pushing them aside before tip-toeing her way into the bedroom. She stood motionless near her desk for a few moments with her clothes still under her arm as she contemplated him. He stirred a bit, mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath, his left hand clutching the bedspread under him for a second before relaxing. Buffy frowned a bit and bit back the chuckle that rumbled in her chest. Silently, she moved closer to the desk, dropping her clothes on the chair before her fingers danced over the wooden surface, blindly searching for the small box she knew was in the back, up against the wall. She took it into her hands when she finally found it and popped the lid open. She hissed when she saw him move abruptly out of the corner of her eye.
“Buffy?” He mumbled with a hoarse voice, blinking a couple of times; his eyes having some difficulty to focus on the small figure standing five feet away from him.
His fingers pressed against his eyelids for a few seconds before he looked back at her to find her fidgeting with something around her neck.
“Buffy?” He asked again.
“Hey.” She whispered a bit breathless as she struggled with her task.
“What are you doing?” He questioned, still a bit dizzy. He had been lost somewhere between slumber and awareness. His mind wandered over the events earlier that evening and he had decided that it had definitely been a mistake to have told her. Maybe it was too soon. He should have just kept his mouth shut. ‘Definitely should have kept my stupid gob closed.’ He scolded himself mentally.
“Nothing.” She answered, letting her hands drop at her sides; her palms brushing against the white fabric of the towel that covered her thighs.
There was a moment of silence as Buffy closed the box once again, putting it away.
“Um…” Spike started as she moved. “Maybe staying here wasn’t such a good…” He trailed as she turned on the lamp at her desk. “…idea.” He finished, his eyes staring at her.
A soft fiery glow filled the room. It was very weak but enough to highlight her soaked form. She stood in front of him, her hands resting over her chest. Her small fingers were tightly wrapped around the bunched up edge of the towel. The white fabric dangled all the way down to her knees leaving the lower part of her legs exposed. A ghost of a smile curled the corners of her mouth as her wet blonde threads trailed down the side of her face; a few lazier strings clinging to her damp skin. As he glanced at her bare neck, he realised what she had been struggling with when he found, curling around it, the thin necklace her had given her for Christmas. He couldn’t help but smile.
“I was starting to think you’d lost it. Haven’t worn it in a while.” He murmured in a low voice.
“Decided to save it for special occasions.” She replied as she picked up her jeans and starting folding them before putting them away in her closet.
Spike’s gaze followed her everywhere as she moved about the room. He shook his head and ran his left hand through his dishevelled hair before saying:
“Look, Buffy, maybe I shouldn’t be here.” He started as she came to stand by the desk. “My Da might be worried and I really should g-“ He was cut short when he saw the towel pool down to the floor leaving her bare-naked in front of him, the only item on her was the amber necklace around her neck. He shook his head lightly, blinking comically a couple of times before clearing his throat to finish his sentence. “…Sh-should go.” She took a few of steps towards him until she was standing about a foot away from him.
“Or maybe not?” She offered impishly.
“O-Or maybe not.” Spike repeated with some effort as his eyes roamed over her exposed body.
His gaze lowered, following her as she knelt in front of him. Her small hands came to rest on his denim-covered knees, tracing tiny circles there before roaming upwards to press against his bare chest. When he wouldn’t move she pushed a bit, forcing him to lie back on the mattress. His eyes never left her as her thin fingers traced a sinuous path back down his torso, across his abdomen, over his thighs until they returned to their original starting point – his knees. Her hands pushed them apart so she could slither her body between them.
Quickly, she worked on the laces of his boots and soon they were off. The next object of her attention was the fastening of his jeans. Her index finger dipped under the waistband of the rough material, popping the top button open and slithering deeper inside to pop-open the next one.
She could hear his breath catching in his throat as he desperately tried to control his breathing. His hips moved at their own volition, blindly following her hands, searching for the much needed contact, but she avoided it expertly. When all the buttons were undone, her fingers abandoned the area to grasp the edge of his jeans. She looked up at him, waiting. He seemed to be a bit dazed for a few seconds, probably pondering over the loss of her touch but, eventually, he realised what she wanted and he lifted his hips. Slowly, she pulled at the denims off and after a moment they were dismissed to the floor, next to his boots.
By now, his breath was coming in rapid and short gasps. He had stopped trying to control his breathing, realising he had lost the battle as he watched her fingers wandering over his bare legs, sketching strange patterns on their way up his body. He swallowed hard when he saw her rise up on her knees before crawling up his body. With one hand on either side of him, one knee positioned between his thighs, and pressing against the mattress she let her head drop, her warm tongue slipping out to trace one single straight line that went from his navel to his collarbone.
Instinctively, his hands came to gasp her hips but, before they could make contact with her body she grasped his wrists, shaking her head slightly and giving him a scolding look before bringing his hands over his head and pressing them against the soft bedspread. Her head dipped over his shoulder and she whispered:
“No touching.”
Her tongue flickered across his earlobe before wandering across his neck. He arched backwards, exposing his throat to her as he shut his eyes in a vain attempt to control the urge to grab her and roll her over. A moan escaped his lips as her tongue circled his Adam’s apple, playing with it for a few seconds before dipping between his collarbones.
He was completely lost in the feeling when he heard her breathe:
“Scoot…”
“Huh…?” He mumbled his voice hoarse, his eyes still dazed.
“Move up.” She repeated, as she pointed towards the headboard of the bed.
“Oh…” He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows and slouching back until his entire body was laying on the bed.
She crawled after him and her mouth quickly returned to his chest. She trailed a series of open-mouth kisses down his bare torso; occasionally letting her teeth lightly scrap the skin, her tongue quickly following to lap against the tender flesh. She felt the desire inside her grow as he twisted and moaned under her ministrations; his hands fisting into the bedspread.
She looked up to see him with his eyes tightly shut, the chiselled lines of his face heightened as he clenched his teeth. He groaned when her tongue circled his navel before diving in.
God! This was paradise! It had to be. It was amazing just how much he wanted this girl. Not even an hour ago they were in his bed, having sex, and now it felt like she hadn’t touched him in years. His mind dwelled on the strange intensity of his attraction for her when suddenly everything went blank. His eyes shot open and he glanced down to find her head dipped between his legs, her tongue tracing small circled on his inner thigh. ‘Oh God, is she gonna… Oh…’
He felt the air choke in his throat as he held his breath waiting. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her. What was she…?
He opened his mouth to speak but the sound refused to come out. He tried again and once again he failed as her tongue came dangerously close to his groin. Wetting his lips, he made one last effort:
“Wha-“ He panted and shut his eyes for a second in search of control. “What are you–” He gasped when her tongue flickered across his cock. He was about to speak again but found it impossible as she licked her way up his length, this time applying more pressure.
His eyes rolled back in their sockets, his fingers digging into the covers.
Seeing his face contort in pleasure she became bolder and her lips came into play, brushing against his soft skin while her tongue moved between them in languid, lazy circles. She covered his cock with wet kisses, successfully avoiding the bulging tip as her hands caressed his hips.
She glanced upwards to see him with his head lolling sideways, his mouth partially open. She nervously glanced away when their gazes met and returned her attention to the task at hand. It was too much to handle.
“Oh, God Buffy… please…” She heard him mewl.
The guttural need in his voice sent a chill down her body, straight to the stop were her legs came together. Without thinking, she scrapped her teeth against the tender skin at the tip of his cock.
“Christ!” Spike hissed thrusting his hips.
Buffy’s head mimicked the motion, jolting back a bit, her eyes immediately searching his face for any sign of pain.
“Did I hurt –“ She started to ask a bit worried.
“No, no.” He immediately denied, shaking his head vehemently. “You’re just perfect. So bloody perfect! P-please don’t stop.” He begged her under hooded eyes.
She was still a bit hesitant but she returned to her task. He jumped up again as her tongue finally flickered over the slit at the top of his cock. She looked up to make sure there was nothing but pleasure on his face and found him clenching his teeth, his eyes tightly shut in an effort to keep from moving.
Spike waited anxiously, but nothing had prepared him for when her hot lips encircled tip of his cock and she let his hard length slip inside her willing mouth. His eyes shot open, his lips parting to let out a long repressed gasp when she started sliding up and down, her cheeks being slightly sucked in in each upward motion.
“Oh, fuck!” He growled as he watched her head bob up and down. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chanted over and over again as his hand came attentively to rest on the back of her head.
He knew he wasn’t going to last more than twenty seconds if she didn’t stop. He didn’t want this to end so quickly. ‘Not yet, not yet.’
“Buffy, please… you gotta…” His fingers threaded themselves between her soaked blonde locks. “Oh, Christ!” He grunted as she sucked harder. “Fuck- Buffy please… stop.”
The moment he said the word her mouth was off him and he almost screamed at the loss of contact.
“Y-you don’t… like it?”
The fear and hesitation in her voice made him want to kick himself.
“What?!” His eyebrows came together for a deep frown. “Of course I do. W-why wouldn’t I?” He questioned back.
“I-It’s just that- I-I never did… this.” She said, her gaze dropping for a second.
Spike felt like his heart stopped. ‘She never… Angel never…?’ A rush of pride washed over him. He was the first to… His trail of thought was lost when she suddenly stood up and dropped to the floor to grasp her towel.
“What…? Where are you…?” He was completely lost. His mind was still dwelling over the fact that she had never gone down on anyone. And he was her first.
Before he knew it, she was out the door.
Scrambling off the bed he quickly followed her, only catching up with her when she was already half way down the stairs, the towel tightly wrapped around her small frame.
“Buffy, would you just stop for a bleeding second?” He asked after her as she stomped her way into the kitchen. “Ok, this is definitely becoming a lousy habit of ours.”
When she looked up at him quizzically he explained:
“I feel like I’ve been running after you all bloody night. And I’m getting pretty tired of it.” He growled.
“Well, no one’s forcing you to be here. You’re more than welcome to leave.” She snapped at him, waving her hand towards the backdoor of the kitchen.
She felt a pang in her chest when she saw him narrowing his eyes at her, his teeth clenched together before he turned on his heels and jogged up the stairs. Not even a minute later she heard the loud thumping of footsteps coming downstairs.
She glanced to see him walk into the room; his jeans partially buttoned up and the laces of his boots undone.
“Do you still have your Da’s old shirts?” He asked; his voice cold and distant.
Buffy was shocked into silence. He was leaving?
“Summers?” He called out.
The sound of her surname on his lips made her stomach twist painfully. He was really leaving.
“Y-you’re leaving?” She questioned in a weak voice.
“That’s what you want, right?”
“No!” Buffy answered immediately.
“A second ago you were telling me to leave. Will you just make up your bloody mind?” He shouted.
There was no answer. The two stood still in the kitchen, eyeing each other.
Suddenly, he moved, walking briskly towards the backdoor of the kitchen. He was about to turn the knob when he heard her gasp.
“Stay.” The urgency in her voice made him stop. When he wouldn’t turn around to face her, she added: “I-I want you to stay.”
Slowly, he turned around and leaned on the door.
She stared up at him, her fingers lingering over her chest as she nervously tapped at her collarbone. He let out a long sigh of frustration.
“I’m tired, Buffy.” He started as he pushed himself off the door. “I’m tired of having to chase after you all the time. Of having to prove everything I feel for you is real all the time. The whole time I’m chasing after you trying to put to rest all your fears and doubts about my feelings, while you…” He shook his head, his hand running through his hair. “What about my doubts? My fears?”
“What fears?”
“What? You think I don’t worry about you still having feeling for Peaches?”
“I-“ She tried to deny it but was cut off.
“You say you don’t, but that doesn’t…” He paused. “You were making *googly* eyes at him since the ninth grade, for fuck’s sake.” Another beat, but before she could say anything he continued: “Do you think I don’t have insecurities about this whole thing. Especially with you two having major make out scenes in a stupid play. And by the way, I never thought I could hate that play as much as I hate it right now!” The anger slowly boiled inside of him, causing him to raise his tone. “I feel like my gut is being twisted inside out every time he’s anywhere *near* you but do I say anything? No! I don’t say a thing because I trust *you*.” An accusing finger came to point at her. “I trust *us* even though you don’t spend half the time chasing after me the way I do after you!”
“I’m a girl!” She argued.
“And?!”
“Me girl, you boy. Boy chase girl.” Her finger stupidly moved between the two of them as she illustrated her overly simplistic logic.
“Oh, well maybe this boy is tired of chasing.” He replied.
Buffy froze in place and the moment he said the words he regretted them.
“Fine, then go chase after someone else. Some undead-wannabe.” She was about to turn around when she heard him:
“See, *this* is what I’m talking about.” She stopped. “When will you get it through that thick, over-bleached skull of yours that I don’t want Dru? I want you.” He practically growled. “I love *you*.”
She felt her heartbeat double. It seemed amazing, but she was sure she would never get enough of hearing him say that.
“Why don’t you believe me? Why-“
He was cut short when he suddenly found himself lost between her arms, her mouth coming to crash against his in a demanding kiss. He was stunned at first; the feel of her body against him making it impossible to think. All he had to do was tug at her towel and she would be naked.
‘No!’ He scolded himself. He couldn’t do this. Not again. Every time they had a fight it ended up with them having sex. Not this time. He wasn’t giving her the easy way out. He was about to push her away when she abruptly jumped up, the towel hitching up as she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. ‘Ok, this is making it a little bit harder.’ He thought as she rubbed herself against him, her tongue pushing past his lips to invade his mouth.
“Buffy…” He mumbled tearing his mouth from her for a split second.
“Shhh—“ She shushed him.
“We have to…. mmmm… talk. We can’t just-“ He tried to speak, but the way she was wiggling against him, her smiling lips hungrily searching for his. “Buff-“
“Shut up you idiot.” He was about to protest at the insult, when she pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes. “I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you, too.” She breathed.