Chapter 32
Author’s Note: I know, I know, I had promised you guys two chapters and you’re only getting one. I’m really, really sorry. It’s just that exams ended and well… You know college. We make up any excuse to have a party. Can you imagine what we do when we actually have an excuse for it? I’m sorry. I’ll try to make it up to you. 😉
Buffy yawned audibly for the tenth time that evening as she patiently listened to her mother’s rambling.
“Oh! And we can also make that special apple mincemeat crumble you love so much.” Joyce piped up gingerly, completely oblivious to her daughter’s boredom.
“Great mom.” Buffy replied unenthusiastically as she ran her nails on the counter next to where her mom scribbled hurriedly on a small notepad.
“Well, I’ll need to buy some Brazilian nuts and quick cooking oats for that one. What else?” The older woman looked up from the yellow paper she held in her hands; a bright childlike spark in her eyes as she gazed blindly at her daughter for suggestions.
“I think you’ve got enough food there to feed the entire United States Marines Corps, mom.” Buffy grumbled as she nervously looked at her watch. Two hours. Two whole hours had passed since Spike had ‘gone to bed’. Man, he was going to be pissed when she finally made it up to her room. Pissed or sound asleep.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that much.” Joyce commented scanning trough the enormous grocery list that filled ten whole pages. “What about the broccoli-cheese casserole?”
“No! No broccoli, mom. It’s Christmas Eve!” Buffy immediately snapped out of her daze, holding up her small hand at the eminent threat of having to eat vegetables on Christmas Eve.
“Um… I guess you’re right.” Mrs. Summers finally agree, putting the cap back on the pen while standing up to enter the kitchenette.
Buffy’s eyes brightened at the thought of going to bed, but she covered her excitement by yawning once again.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll go up to bed.” She said jumping off the stool and raising herself on her to give her mother a light peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, mom.”
“Goodnight, honey. I think I’ll turn in too.” She replied as she watched her daughter practically fly up the stairs. “She’s gonna wake up Giles and Spike.” Joyce mumbled to herself, hearing Buffy stomp her way to her room.
~+~
Buffy stopped just outside her door, taking in a deep breath as she felt her stomach do the funny little flip-flopping thing it always did every time she knew she was about to see him. She ran her hands over her hair, smoothing out the wild locks that cascades down her back. After she was absolutely sure she looked her best, she put on the sleepiest face she could muster and turned the knob.
There was complete darkness in the room when she entered.
“Spike?” She whispered in a low voice as she squinted and narrowed her eyes to see while her left hand blindly travelled over the wall next to her, searching for the light switch. “Are you here?”
She felt her heart sink, a bit disappointed when suddenly she found herself being pinned against a cold surface, the door slamming shut behind her as a hard, lean body now pressed against her. Before she could even make a sound, ravenous lips smashed against hers for a demanding kiss, while two strong hands seemed to want to cover every inch of her as they travelled up and down her frame.
“Spike…” She managed to breathe once his lips abandoned hers and proceeded to kiss her earlobe as he buried his face in her soft curls.
“What took you so long?” She heard him ask with a hoarse voice as he continued to lick and suck at the tender flesh of her neck, his chest still pressing against hers, his hips pinning hers to the wooden surface.
She gasped when she felt something long and hard pressing against her stomach and suddenly she wasn’t able to speak.
“I… um…”
“I’ve been dying here, Summers.” He breathed, as his left hand came to cup her breast over the cotton of her sweater.
“My mom…” She tried to form a coherent sentence, but it seemed impossible as she watched him step away from her for just enough time to bring his shirt and t-shirt over his head. He let the garments drop to the floor as his mouth attacked her collarbone and his hands wormed their way under her sweater, eagerly travelling up her frame and bunching it up.
“Off…” She was able to hear him say between the series of open mouth kisses he was placing at the base of her throat.
“I… my mom…” She tried to speak, her hands feebly trying to push him away from her so she would be able to form a coherent line of thought, but her body betrayed her as her fingers lingered down his back.
His hands grabbed the hem of her sweater and yanked it up further. In a second it lay discarded on the floor, next to his clothes as Spike started working on her white lacy bra while his mouth dropped to kiss the upper curve of her breasts.
“Spike…” She breathed, her eyebrows frowning a bit as she tried hard to concentrate. “My mom’s-”
She was cut off by Spike’s lips as they found hers once again. His tongue used the opportunity to slip into her partially open mouth and quickly moved to explore the inside, while his hands blindly worked on the clasp of her bra.
He sighed into her mouth when he finally opened it. His fingers travelled over her shoulders, dragging the thin strings down her arms. He pulled away to watch the small piece of fabric fall to the floor and expose two small, round globes.
He started at them for a second, his breath catching in his throat for a moment as he saw her bare breasts for the first time.
The moment of pause gave Buffy enough time to rewire her brain so she was able to say what she had been trying to since he had started kissing her. Quickly, she bent over, hastily picking up all the discarded clothes and shoving his against his chest as she breathed:
“My mom’s not in bed yet.”
Spike snapped out of his thought and partially pouted when he saw her cover herself and push him away.
“What?” He asked still a bit dazed.
“My mom! She’s still up. She can come in at any-“
She was cut off by the sound of a door being closed down the hall.
“I guess your mom’s gone to bed.” Spike managed to say before grabbing the clothes, throwing them on the floor and wrapping his arms around her small form to crush his mouth against hers.
Buffy moaned into the kiss, as they stumbled back to the bed. She gasped as their bodies impacted against the soft mattress, his mouth leaving hers to trail down her neck, his hands masterfully sneaking between their bodies to work on the buttons of her jeans.
She was about to protest, but lost all intent when she felt his lips encircle one hardened nipple, his hand cupping her breast to direct the tender flesh into his mouth.
She seemed lost in the feeling, only breaking out of it when she felt him tug her jeans down her legs. She quickly toed her shoes off, enabling him to strip her of all her remaining clothing.
He propped himself up on his hands, hovering over her as he gazed down at her naked form. She felt the flush raise to her cheeks under the intense stare and thanked whatever gods there were that she hadn’t been able to turn on the lights and that the only brightness filling the room were the soft rays of the moon streaming from the window.
One strong hand came to cup her cheek and force her to look up at him.
“God… you’re so beautiful.” He breathed dropping to kiss her.
She moaned into his mouth as his hips moved between hers and the rough material of his jeans brushed against the tender spot where her legs came together.
Blindly, her hands travelled down his chest to find his zipper, quickly pulling it down and popping the top button open. She smiled against his mouth when she realised he wasn’t wearing any underwear… again. Her small finger hocked on the hem of the jeans and pulled them down his hips to his knees, where her feet came into play and helped push the denim further down, till they were bunched up around his ankles.
Spike struggled a bit with his boots. Stupid combat boots. Why did he wear them? He grumbled inwardly as he found himself forced to abandon her to sit down at the edge of the bed and work at the laces of his boots. In record time, he had them off and was safely in her arms, his mouth travelling down her neck to claim her breast once again.
Her fingers dug into his bleached curls, as his mouth worked on one of her breasts while one of his hands kneaded the other. He expertly fingered her hardened nipple into a frenzy and then, slowly trailed down the side of her stomach to dive between her legs.
Buffy threw her head back as she felt him trace the contours of her feminine folds without daring to go any further. She moaned, a bit desperate as he continued to play with her outer lips, moving up and down, carefully avoiding her centre as well as the needy bundle of nerves at the apex.
“Want something, pet?” He asked, grinning against the tender flesh of her breast.
“Spike…” She breathed looking down at him with hungry eyes.
“Yes…?” He continued to question as his tongue curled around her nipple.
“Please…” She moaned as his finger came inches away from her clit, but quickly moved away.
“You sure?” He smiled again.
“Spike!” She protested, swatting him over the shoulder. Why did he always have to tease her like that? “I-“
She stopped in mid sentence as his index finger flickered over her clit.
“Ah…”
“Like that?” He asked as he did it again.
Buffy nodded wildly as her nails dug into his back.
He pressed harder against the sensitive bundle and she moaned under his ministrations. His finger trailed down to find the moist entrance to her womb; it circled its contours a couple of times, causing Buffy to grind her teeth together in expectation. Pushing one long finger into her, he watched in awe as her neck arched as her head fell back on the mattress.
He slowly moved in and out of her, searching for the right stop inside of her with every stroke. He knew he had found it when he heard her breath catch in her throat and a strangled cry escaped her o-shaped lips.
The expert finger continued to massage her, moving in and out, accelerating the pace and building up the rhythm as he stared at her intensely.
He swallowed hard at the sight of her facial muscles contorting in pleasure, as small ravenous mewls reached his ears. He closed his eyes for a second, trying hard to find the control necessary to stop himself from pushing her legs apart and burying himself in her. He tried to focus on anything, but the amazing sounds she was making broke all and any concentration.
“Spike…” She moaned his name and his eyes flew open to see her arched off the mattress to let out a strangled cry as the walls that surrounded his finger contracted wildly; her nails trailed bruising tracks down his arm as she came.
She let her body fall limply on the bed, her eyes closed, her chest raising and falling erratically as she pulled hard breaths from her lungs. Her eyes opened again when she felt his lips brush over her neck.
Her numb hands found their way between their bodies and encircled his hard cock. She bit her bottom lip, when she heard him gasp, his forehead resting on the mattress just over her shoulder.
She slowly began to pump him and felt a chill run down her spine when she heard him mewl:
“Buffy… Missed you so much.” His fingers ran between her long, blonde locks as she worked on him, pushing him closer to the edge with every stroke.
His grip on her hair tightened when she flickered a finger over the sensitive tip, brushing away the few drops of liquid there.
“Wait!” He warned her, freezing on top of her.
“Did it hurt?” She asked a bit unsure. She didn’t have a lot of practice in this and she still felt extremely insecure about it.
“No…” She shook his head as he swallowed dryly. “It’s just… if you do that one more time, I’m gonna come.”
Buffy eyes brightened with female pride at his words.
“Isn’t that the point?” She smiled as she prepared to move her finger again, but one strong grip on her wrist, stopped her.
“It’ll be messy.” He explained.
“Oh…” She realised.
“Plus… I’d rather…” He tilted his head downwards.
“Oh…” She repeated with a mischievous grin as she parted her legs wider, inviting him in.
He pushed his eyelids closed in order to be able to move off the bed.
Buffy frowned a bit and watched as he dug through the pile of clothes on the floor; his actions extremely reminiscent of their first night but, this time, when his hand left the pockets of his jeans it was filled with at least five plastic wrappers. He sat on the bed, quickly working to get the condom. In the meantime, Buffy lay on the bed, dwelling on whether of not to tell him…
“Spike, we don’t need-“
“Just a second.” He halted her with one hand while the other continued to struggle with the prophylactic. “There!” He said triumphantly as he cat-crawled his way to nestle himself between her legs.
Buffy stared wide-eyed up at him, as he positioned himself at her entrance; whatever she had been trying to say before vanished from her mind as his hips dipped down and she felt him push between her wet lips.
Spike shut his eyes and took in a deep breath as he felt her inner walls clamp around him. It wasn’t as big of a shock as it had been the first time, but it still managed to take his breath away just how tight she was. He paused for a second, letting her adjust to him. He opened his eyes to meet hers. He found her with a smile on her lips. The moment he started moving in and out of her, it crumbled, to be replaced by an expression of complete awe and pleasure.
The rhythm began at a slow pace, slowly building up, growing faster and harder with each stoke until his hips were practically slamming into her.
She opened her mouth to let out a silent cry as the tension built inside of her. Even in that moment of complete daze, in a distant part of her mind she still remembered that her mother was sleeping just down the small corridor. She bit down on her bottom lip; hers nails digging into the back of his arms as the pleasure became impossible to suppress, causing him to wince in pain.
“Sorry…” she mewled as her hands dropped to her sides to grasp the sheets underneath her. Her small fingers burrowed into the fabric, nearly ripping it to pieces as she tried to stomp herself from crying out in pleasure.
Spike rolled his eyes back in their sockets as he felt her get tighter and wetter with each stroke.
“Fuck… Buffy.” He mumbled into her neck as his hand came to cup her left breast.
“Spike.” She started as she realised she was closer to the edge. “I can’t… I’m gonna… Oh, God!” She moaned as he moved quickly in and out of her. “I-I’m gonna scream.” She finally managed to say between ragged breaths; her nails still digging into the sheets as she arched off the mattress and prepared to cry out.
“Shh…” He whispered into her ear as his hand abandoned her breast to clamp down on her mouth, muffling her cry. He continued to pump in and out of her, his fingers over her lips as he watched her battle with herself.
Her eyebrows were crunched up to there maximum, her eyes closed shut as soft moans tumbled from her covered mouth and into his hand.
When he thought she had been able to control herself, his grip softened and he let his hand drop to the bed.
“Ah!” She mewled when he pushed harder into her. “Oh, God… Spike. I’m gonna… A-“
Her scream was cut short as his mouth crushed against hers to swallow the cry of pleasure. Behind his closed lips, Spike’s eyes rolled back as he felt her practically squeeze the life out of him as her orgasm surged through her, causing her body to slightly trash underneath his.
In wasn’t long before he was following her; his mouth abandoning hers and falling partially open, his eyes closing tightly shut, his grip on the sheet next to her shoulder tightening before he fell limply on top of her.
He lay motionless until he heard her breathe:
“Need… oxygen here… Being… smothered to… death.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” He said immediately rolling off of her.
He sighed in relief when he saw her smiling up at him.
“Gotcha.” She whispered.
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” He tried to sound annoyed as he sat up on the side of the bed, quickly taking off the used condom before laying back down next to her.
“You could never smother me. Too skinny.” She mocked.
“Look who’s talking.” He retorted.
“Hey!” She frowned.
Smiling he curled his arms around her and brought her against his chest. They lay there for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling until Buffy broke the stillness:
“Um… Spike…” She began a bit uncertain.
“Yes, pet?”
“It’s… um kinda cold. Can we get under the covers?”
“Oh, God yes!” He sighed in relief as they immediately stood up and crawled under the sheets.
“Oh, God yes?” She frowned as she lay on the bed, her head coming to rest on his chest as her left leg swung over his.
“It was cold. But if *I* had said anything about it, *I* would have been an insensitive creep who was trying to sneak himself out of the mandatory post-coitus cuddling session.” Spike explained.
“I wouldn’t have thought you were an insensitive creep.” She defended herself.
“Right. Buffy. With our record, I’m amazed you haven’t come up with an excuse to kick me out of your bed by now.”
“Hey!” She protested propping her chin on his chest to look up at him.
“It’s true.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
“See. We’re already fighting.” He noted.
“Are not. You are just-“
She was cut off by his mouth as his hand cupped the back of her head and forced her to kiss him. Soon she was eagerly replying, her tongue worming its way into his mouth to deepen the kiss. She mewled in protest when he pulled away.
“I guess the only way to keep us from fighting is to kiss you.” He said with a wicked grin.
“I think I like that technique.” She smiled back at him, giving him a light peck on the lips before resting on his chest once again.
They lay on the bed, in a tight in embrace as Buffy let out a soft sigh.
“What?” Spike asked.
“I like this.” She smiled, trailing small kisses on his chest.
“I like this too. And we could’ve been doing this last night too, if you’d only trust me.” Spike replied. He tried to make it sound like a childish retort, but she could see a glimpse of hurt in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She apologized as she looked up at him.
“It’s ok.”
“No, it’s not. I should have trusted you. It’s just that… you just made the whole thing so secretive, what was I supposed to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know? Trust me.” He jibed, receiving a light swat over his right arm.
“I said I was sorry.”
“I know, pet.” He leaned in and gave her a light peck on the forehead.
“I mean, how was I supposed to know that you were all ‘defender of the oppressed’?”
Spike smiled at the title.
“Poor Andrew. Having a crush on that poofter. Bloody rotten taste.”
At his words, Buffy couldn’t help but giggle against his skin.
“What?” He enquired with a frown but got no answer. “What?” he insisted.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Buffy…”
“I think Andrew has evolved in his taste of men. Much like I have.
“Come again?”
Buffy looked up as him, her chin now resting on her hand that lay over his chest as her eyes sparkled mischievously at him.
“I don’t think Andrew likes Angel anymore.”
“Really?”
“Really. Especially now that he has his knight in shining armour.” Buffy giggled again as her fingers ran over the contours of his pectoral muscles.
“Huh?”
Buffy shook her head. It was amazing just how blind Spike was sometimes.
“Andrew has a crush on you.” She announced.
“What!?”
“Andrew. Has. A. Crush. On. You.” She pronounced each word as carefully as she could.
“What? No. He likes the ponce.” Spike replied.
“Spike. Everyone at the school knows this. Just like everyone knew that he was gay Except you, apparently. I mean, the way he stares at you during lunchtime is a dead giveaway. And why do you think you won for Homecoming King. It’s not like you’re Mr. Popularity.” At Spike’s still confused look she continued: “He rigged the votes.” Spike continued to stare dumbly at her and she patted him on the chest as she said in a motherly tone: “Trust me. He has a crush on you.”
“No, he does not.” Spike insisted.
“Fine. He doesn’t. Whatever.” Buffy rolled her eyes as she turned on her side, her back facing him.
There was a moment of silence, before Spike awkwardly asked:
“Andrew has a crush on me?”