Chapter 16
In retrospect, she really should have seen this coming.
The signs had all been there. Ever since she had woken up that morning, they had been building. But she hadn’t seen them clearly, hadn’t realized until now…
Friday morning had started like pretty much every weekday morning had for the past three weeks. Elizabeth had awoken with a groan to the sound of her alarm clock. She’d developed the miraculous ability over the past few months to completely sleep through Willow’s early morning alarm, yet still wake up at her own. It was actually kind of impressive.
Sleepily, Elizabeth walked down to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and such before she turned on the shower spray. As she was waiting for the hot water to kick in, she ventured back out into the hallway, not even bothering to knock on Spike’s door before entering.
The numbers on his alarm clock indicated that he had hit the snooze button at least three times already, and he seemed to be utilizing the time to the best of his ability – buried under a mound of blankets, face stuffed into the pillow, snoozing just as contentedly as the big kitty-cat she teased that he was. She almost felt sorry for waking him. Almost.
“Hey, Spikey,” she ruffled his hair slightly, causing him to stir lightly beneath her touch. He didn’t get up at that, of course. Oh no, he had to be stubborn every morning.
“Spike, wake up!” She bit back a smile at the confused mumble that escaped his lips.
She decided it was time to start playing dirty and tugged at the corner of the blanket, yanking it from his desperate grasp and exposing him to the cold air of the outside world. “Time for class, ‘luv’!” she informed him with a quick swat to that tight little ass of his.
He grumbled and blinked up at her. “’d almost think you liked doin’ that,” he complained, running one hand through his tousled white curls as his yawned.
“Rise and shine!” she teased in a voice way too perky for this hour of the morning.
He practically fell out of bed, swearing under his breath the entire walk over to the bathroom. Elizabeth wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard something along the lines of “Got me a filthy sadist for a girlfriend,” in which case he was so going to pay later.
Elizabeth stepped into her nice, warm shower and giggled when Spike let out a little screech when the initially cold water hit him in the other stall. He’d been doing this, what? A whole year longer than her?
“Don’t tell me you still haven’t managed to realize the water always starts out cold?” she teased, soaping up her hair.
“’S about the only think that’ll wake me up in the mornin’,” he countered before rinsing the rapidly warming water through his hair.
“Speaking of which…” Elizabeth began. “Don’t you have a class before history?”
Spike shrugged even though she couldn’t see it through the two shower curtains that separated them. “Quite possibly,” he agreed.
Elizabeth groaned. “God, you are so hopeless!” she exclaimed in mild irritation. “You’re going to, like, flunk out, you know…”
“Attending class is not necessary for passin’,” he informed her defensively. “Tha’s just a lie they tell freshmen.”
“You would so have missed that pop-quiz on Monday if I hadn’t dragged your lazy ass to history,” she retorted with a victorious little smile.
“Humph.” He really couldn’t argue with that point. He flicked off the water and grabbed his towel from the hook, rubbing it a few times through his hair before moving to wrap it around his waist.
“Are you done already?” Elizabeth asked in disbelief when she heard the water in the other stall turn off. She’d just begun her second lather.
“Don’ know why bints think showers should take a whole bleedin’ hour,” he retorted sarcastically, getting out of the shower and moving over to the sink. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth while wiping away the steam from the mirror with a paper towel.
“It does not take an hour!” Elizabeth exclaimed in righteous indignation. “Fifteen minutes, tops!”
“You were twenty-three yesterday,” he pointed out.
“And twenty-three minutes equals an hour in what bizarre fantasy world?” she demanded.
“Half an hour, fine!” his tone was obviously annoyed by now.
“Twenty-three minutes equals a half an hour?” she shot right back.
The muscle in Spike’s jaw twitched in annoyance, and he spit the toothpaste into the sink. “’m gonna go get dressed,” he informed her curtly. “’ll meet you in the lounge before class.”
Elizabeth let out a weary sigh when she heard the bathroom door bang. Great. Just what she needed today – ultra-crabby Spike.
Her own annoyance practically radiating off of her in waves, she rinsed her hair a final time before wrapping her robe around her body and dashing back to her room…
Whatever edginess was between them, it carried over right into history class. Elizabeth was seriously debating jabbing her pencil straight through Spike’s eye if he didn’t stop that annoying fidgeting.
It had started with his foot kicking the chair in front of him. After several annoyed looks from the unfortunate student who occupied the aforementioned chair, Elizabeth had been forced to catch Spike’s leg with her own, physically preventing it from swinging again.
He’d proceeded to get tap-happy then. The sound of his sole of his boot creating some cryptic Morse Code message on the tile floor had driven her up the wall for about five minutes before she’d finally stomped her foot down on top of his, effectively silencing him…or his foot, at least.
Step three in Spike’s apparent Piss Elizabeth Off Royally plan consisted of jingling the silver bracelets he wore on one wrist. Frankly, she was still half-convinced that all the jewelry made him look gay – well, except the rings in his ears; she’d discovered that those were fun to play with. But the rest of it…
She just didn’t need to be reminded that her boyfriend wore more jewelry than she did. She slammed her hand down over his wrist as well, stopping the constant jangling.
He’d thrown her the world’s most pissed off look then, like she was the one who was being irritating…
Gah! Elizabeth was about to explode by the time history ended, and neither of them had really been paying much attention to the lecture.
He’d practically seized her arm when class was over and dragged her away from the quick ‘hi’ she’d said to Riley, pulling her out into the hallway with him.
“You goin’ to English?” he demanded, toying with an unlit cigarette.
“Of course I’m going to English!” she snapped. “Unlike some people, I actually go to class.” Her irritation was growing by the minute.
“Right then,” he said in a particularly sour tone. “Go on then. ‘m sure ‘ll see you later.” Placing the cigarette between his lips, he stomped off then. He’d lit it up even before he’d officially left the building, earning himself a couple of nasty looks and one snide comment. Snide comment got the two-fingered salute for his troubles.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. God, what was his problem?!
An hour later, she opened the door to Spike’s room with an angry bang. Of course, he had the nerve to not actually be there, so her dramatic entrance had been all for naught.
With a frustrated snort, she noticed that the bed had been stripped and the heaping pile of dirty clothes in the corner had been removed. That made it pretty apparent where he was, and she trudged all the way back down the three flights of stairs plus the additional one into the basement.
Sure enough, there he was in the laundry room, waiting in front of the dryers. He was wearing a pair of headphones that were turned up so loud that she could hear the deafening – and usually crude and offensive – punk lyrics through them…as well as through his own singing.
She hit the stop button on his Discman vehemently, stopping the splitting headache that just listening to his music secondhand gave her.
He started in surprise when the song abruptly stopped, and a scowl crossed his face when he saw that she was the cause. “Oi!” he complained. “Was listenin’ to that!”
“Were making yourself go deaf, you mean,” she informed him primly.
“Since when is that your business, Summers?” he retorted, practically ripping the headphones off of his ears and stuffing them back into his bag.
“You know, you’re right,” she countered sarcastically, getting right up into his face. “I’ll just stay out of your life from now on. Excuse me for caring!”
“Naggin’ is more like it,” he bit back, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. “Everywhere I go today, everythin’ I do…” He abruptly trailed off when someone from the other house in Westing Hall entered the laundry room, laundry basket in hand.
Elizabeth stepped away from him in response, turning to leave. “I’m going to go make up my studio hours,” she informed him a bit bitterly. “Have a nice afternoon.”
He let out a sigh. “Summers, wait,” he pleaded, but she was already gone…
Not that it did her any good.
“’S nice.” Spike’s voice startled her from the world of her painting.
“Spike?” she hissed in disbelief. “What on earth are you doing here?!”
“’S an open studio,” he said defensively before turning back to look at her painting once more. “’S nice,” he repeated. “I like it.”
“Thanks,” she managed to say with a tight smile, continuing to mix the orange color she wanted on her palate.
“That’s the place you told me about, innit?” he asked in a hushed voice after her prolonged pause indicated that she was ignoring him. “Where your mother is?”
Elizabeth sighed and turned back to her painting. It was a landscape setting, a darkened outline of trees as seen from a small hill. The black cross-shape in the center to the hill was all too clearly a grave to those who were looking for it, and Spike most certainly knew enough to have correctly guessed what it was.
“Yeah,” she reluctantly agreed, breaking her forced silence.
“Is that you sitting by the grave?” Spike agreed, tilting his head to look at the painting more closely as he sat on the stool beside her. It was the black, backlit silhouette of a sitting human figure that had caught his attention.
“It is,” she admitted.
“I like the sunset,” he commented with strange calmness. “The colors… ‘S well done.”
“Thanks,” she said with a little smile this time. “I figured, my mom never gets to see the sunset the way her grave’s set up, so I could…y’know, paint it for her…” She trailed off, slightly embarrassed, of all things, and studiously began highlighting the edges of the cross.
“Nice…” he repeated, his voice sounding distant enough that it seemed like an echo of his earlier words.
“Spike, why are you here?” she asked in a voice more clipped than she’d meant it. “I thought you avoided your mom’s studio like the plague. Something about getting stuck doing menial labor?”
He ducked his head, scratching the hair at the back of his neck in a gesture that Elizabeth had long since learned indicated that he was uncomfortable. “Well, yeah, but…wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight was all…” he blurted out this last bit nervously.
“And it took you almost an hour to come ask?” She raised one perfectly-sculptured eyebrow.
“Well, I had to finish the laundry, and…”
“Nice to know laundry rates just above me,” she snorted derisively.
“And I was afraid you might say ‘no’, all right?” he finished angrily, his eyes flashing like the sun off of pale blue ice.
“It’s still ‘yes’,” she informed him calmly. “I still haven’t seen Oz and Devon play yet. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“All right then.” He paused. “You comin’ to practice today?” he demanded.
“I only need two more hours before I’m all caught up,” she pointed out.
He glanced at her painting. “Need to let that layer dry before you paint more, anyway,” he informed her as one whose mother had put a paintbrush in his hand prior to a pencil.
She couldn’t find any argument with that. “Fine,” she agreed before sighing. “That means I have to take another shower today, you realize?”
“So the Wiccans ‘ll get caught takin’ a cold shower tonight,” Spike shrugged disinterestedly. “Let’s go…”
Wesley winced as the blond pair fell to the mats together, hands and feet striking wildly at each other in a desperate attempt to gain advantage.
“I am quite sure that move is not legal,” Kendra flinched slightly, wide-eyed as she watched the scrambling pair.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen dirtier fighting tactics,” Wesley sighed before shouting at them to break it up.
Elizabeth and Spike cast each other furious glances, each blaming the other for their own failed attack.
“I think that’s quite enough for today,” Wesley announced in a slightly pinched voice. “Perhaps you two need some time with the punching bags…or something.”
“I have to leave anyway,” Elizabeth announced, snatching up her water bottle and practically draining it.
“Me, too,” Spike agreed, flashing daggers at her the whole time. “Later.” He stalked off towards the men’s locker room. Elizabeth made a similar exit into the women’s locker room only a few seconds after him.
“Am I sensing trouble in paradise?” Kendra asked with a slight frown.
Wesley sighed. “Damned if I know…”
By the time Elizabeth and Spike finally left the Blue Club, everyone was only too happy to see them go. Willow let out a little breath of relief, and Tara patted her hand encouragingly.
“Do you think we should go after them?” Xander asked, concerned. “’Cause I’m sensing a huge, combusting break-up slash double murder coming on…”
Elizabeth and Spike had been sending nasty clips back and forth the entire evening, their arguments oddly reminiscent of their relationship when they first met. They had argued about whether or not to dance, then had been arguing on the dance floor even as their bodies moved together, before moving back to the table and arguing some more. The building fury between the pair had been uncomfortable for everyone else who was misfortunate enough to get caught in the middle.
But Anya couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Xander’s comment. “You really don’t know anything about women, do you?” she asked wearily…
So, in summary, she really should’ve seen it coming. It had been building all day; it was only a matter of time before it exploded.
“What was that?!” Spike demanded, slamming the door to his room shut behind them.
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Elizabeth retorted, giving him the patented ‘you’re an idiot for not being able to read my mind’ look.
“Yeah!” he demanded, scarred eyebrow raised at her defiantly. “Why don’t you?”
“God, you’re so—!” she exclaimed, her hands gesticulating wildly as she tried to come up with the right words.
“What?” he demanded, stepping right up into her personal space so that they were nose to nose.
Her face softened as everything suddenly became crystal clear to her. “Beautiful…” she whispered just before she caught him to her the way she’d been wanting to all day and pulled his lips down into a bruising kiss.
He moaned against her lips, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of her dress even as he staggered back to his bed. All the while, she plundered his mouth, savoring the sweet and tangy taste of Spike, the way he was rough and gentle at the same time, kind, infuriating, passionate…
“Want you,” she gasped, her lips pulling away from his for just a split-second.
He moaned in protest. “Want you, too,” he gasped before capturing her lips once more, falling back onto the bed…
Elizabeth ripped his burgundy shirt open, sending several white buttons scattering about the room as she did so. She rose up on her knees to hover over his chest, her tongue licking and tracing all the strong lines of his muscles.
“Cor, Elizabeth!” he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes rolling back in their sockets at the feel of her hot mouth upon him.
“Spike…” she whispered, her breath tingling the soft, pale skin right over his heart. Her lips proceeded to trail down to one hard, flat male nipple, taking it gently between her teeth and twisting.
His hips bucked up in response, his groin thrusting into hers. His erection was thick and hard at her actions, but he wasn’t embarrassed; they’d gotten rather used to that happening over the past couple of weeks, after all.
However, rather than pull back and give him time to calm down, she ground her own hips down into his hardness. A little hiss escaped her lips as the ridge of the seam over his zipper pressed hard against her most sensitive spots.
“Oh god…” she gasped at the first little twinges of pressure built inside of her. “Oh, oh god…”
“Christ, luv!” Spike gasped as the strain against his zipper became painful. “You’re killin’ me here…”
She gave him a seductive little smile and leaned in to kiss him…
He groaned into her mouth when her hot little hand found the bulge in his pants, cupping it gently through his jeans. “E-Elizabeth?” he inquired, pulling away from her kiss. He looked up into her eyes, lust and hope swirling through his own midnight blue orbs.
“Yeah,” she answered his unasked question, a slight blush rising in her cheeks.
“You’re sure?” His hands were gently cupping her ass now, pushing her little black miniskirt up as they explored her toned flesh.
In response, she merely reached down and slowly unfastened her zipper. The sound of the metal teeth unfastening and releasing sounded deafening in the small dorm room where the only other sound was the intense panting of the couple on the bed.
With a flick of her thumb the top button was unfastened, and she slowly reached in to pull him out. A contented feminine smile graced her lips at her first sight of him. She’d reached in to touch him a few times before, but the jeans had always remained perfectly fastened. Not tonight, though…
“I need…” she whispered huskily, looking down deep into the dilated ebony of his eyes.
“Shh,” he whispered softly, sitting up beneath her so that she rested in his lap. His fingers gently tangled in her long, gold hair, holding her firmly to him as he covered her face in soft kisses.
She felt him slowly continue to push her dress upwards, his hands rubbing little circles into her heated flesh as it was further exposed. She returned the favor, her hands gliding up his shoulders right under the soft cotton of his shirt. It fell back down to his elbows under her guidance, and she carefully began to stroke and trace the muscles of his chest.
She couldn’t help but agree with her earlier assessment now; he was so, so beautiful…albeit, in an entirely masculine way. She’d never thought that a man could be beautiful before, but Spike’s body was like a Greek statue come to life. Lean, tight muscles created sharp angles and soft curves. His body was hard, strong, perfect…and yet it quivered beneath her hands at the same time. Soft, delicate skin of the palest alabaster shined silver in the moonlight that peeked in through the blinds.
As she watched, he pulled back just enough to slip his shirt off his arms, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. He looked up at where she sat atop him then, wonder and awe reflected in those expressive eyes…
With a sly smile, she slowly, languorously pulled off the dress that had become bunched at her waist. She let her body stretch and flow under the black silk as it slid up and off her body.
The expression in his eyes when she finally rested atop him in only two scraps of silk made the breath catch in her throat. Just by looking into his face, she knew at that moment that she was the most beautiful, sexy woman in the world. Nothing else could account for the look of pure worship in his eyes.
“Cor, luv,” he whispered softly, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You’re so perfect, luv. So beautiful… I knew the moment I first saw you…”
He seemed to get slightly choked up at this point – surprising given his general verbosity. She kissed his brow gently in response.
“I did, too,” she admitted softly. “Was too dumb to admit it, but…”
He sighed against her shoulder before carefully lifting her up in his arms and twisting so that she now lay on the bed beneath him.
“I’ve wanted you for so long…” His voice sounded ragged, like he was trying to restrain a tidal wave of emotions.
“Show me,” she requested, an excited glint in her eye.
He let out a playful little growl at that and dove for her throat.
She giggled and then moaned at the feel of his lips trailing down her body. He placed a little bite on her throat, just over her pounding pulse-point, before his tongue trailed down the golden column of her throat. His lips ran up and down each collarbone in kisses so light they felt like the soft brush of butterfly wings. He slipped the narrow straps of her bra over her shoulders as they got in his way, and her fingers tangled in his silky platinum locks, urging him to continue.
Her lower body began aching for further contact so her foot slid up his calf, passing over the area where his jeans had bunched around his knees as he rose above her. She finally found the smooth muscles of the backs of his thighs and continued to glide upward, savoring her first feels of that tight, sexy butt of his. Her foot finally completed its journey at the small of his back, and she pushed gently, pressing his lower body down into hers, feeling his naked hardness against her inner thigh as she spread her legs beneath him…
“Mmm,” he murmured against the silk of her bra. “You know,” he looked up at her softly with a hint of his usual cheeky grin, “red’s my favorite color…”
“Why do you think I wore them?” she replied with a sly little smile as she realized that it was true. There was no way she’d just by chance chosen to wear her skimpiest, sexiest underwear that day. On some fundamental level she’d known this was what she wanted, even if her conscious mind hadn’t realized it until just now.
With a little chuckle, he pushed her bra aside, nimble fingers unfastening the clasp. She cried aloud at the first feel of his mouth encompassing her supple mound, his tongue swirling insistently over the needy flesh, caressing it, loving it…
Her head lolled back onto the pillow, and her hips bucked desperately in response. She felt Spike’s erection quiver against her thigh and realized that she couldn’t take much more of this…
“Luv,” Spike looked down at her apologetically, “I can’t take much more…”
She gave him a little smile. “Great minds think alike.” She reluctantly released her holds on his platinum locks and strong, muscular back in order to fully slip out of her bra.
He kicked his jeans off at the same time, but halted her when she attempted to slip off her panties on her own. Eyes never leaving hers, he brushed her hands aside before slipping his thumbs beneath the elastic waist of the thong and slowly sliding them down her long legs.
She gulped at the unbearable wetness between her thighs. She felt as though there was a dull ache deep inside her, an emptiness and hunger that only he could sate…
“You’re a goddess,” he whispered softly, once her entire body lay bare before him. “My fiery goddess…”
She pulled him down to her, showering him with kisses, guiding his hands over her body as she explored his, her needy center rubbing persistently against his erection, begging him to enter her…
“Spike?” she practically whimpered when he pulled away. She bit her lip at the pleading tone in her voice. “Now?”
“Now,” he agreed, shuffling around in the drawer beside his bed and triumphantly producing a square wrapper from the box inside.
“Hoping to get lucky?” she couldn’t help but tease as he unwrapped the condom.
He looked down at her with an evil little glint in his eyes. “Luck has nothin’ to do with it, ’s just my inherent irresistibility,” he countered, moving to roll the rubber on.
This time she halted him, giving him a shy smile before slowly rolling the protective covering down his length, stroking him to become even harder as she did so.
They met for a kiss when she was done, and Spike gently guided her back down to the mattress beneath him. His hand slipped between her thighs, testing the wetness he found there and stretching her before using her juices to slick himself up.
“My luv,” he whispered softly, looking straight down into her eyes as he slowly began to enter her.
She hissed slightly at first, feeling her muscles relax and give in slowly to his girth, stretching and expanding. She clutched his forearms tightly, holding on as he buried himself deep inside her.
Spike’s eyes rolled back at the raging inferno that suddenly surrounded him, and it was all he could do to keep things slow, let her adjust… But, cor, she fit him just like a glove!
“Oh god!” Elizabeth gasped when he was finally sheathed inside her. She’d never had a man fill her this completely before. It fell like too much, but so good at the same time.
“Shh, I got you, luv,” Spike’s voice lowered to a husky whisper as he began pumping in and out of her with agonizing slowness. “That feel all right, luv?” he asked softly.
“G-G-Good!” she barely managed to cry out at the incredible sensations passing through her. “More!”
With a little grin, he picked up the strength of his thrusts, using those taut muscles she admired so to piston himself deep within her. He lowered himself onto one elbow so that he could pepper kisses over her face while his free hand softly kneaded her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple in sharp little counterpoint to the movement of his hips.
Little gasping mewls began to escape her lips at the feel of him so completely inside of her. She felt like her body was aflame, like something was building within her, powerful, primal, right where the two of them were joined together…
“Yesss…” she rasped, hands returning to his body, holding him to her, caressing him. Her hips were thrusting upwards in time with his own now, increasing the power of their union, causing brighter sparks to fly between them with each renewed penetration.
“Cor, luv, pet, sweetheart,” he was babbling against her heated flesh with every thrust now. “You feel so good, so beautiful… Never felt anythin’ like this before…”
Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, stronger. She gasped, eyes wide, as the tip of his cock struck the entrance to her womb for the first time.
“Oh god!” she cried out. “Never knew…*gasp*…it could be…*moan*…so…deep…”
He ground into her harder at this admission, his face buried in her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut tight as he fought to bring her greater pleasure. He twirled his hips lightly upon entry now, slanting in at a new angle every time, desperately seeking…
“Spike?” Her voice sounded raw, astonished, amazed.
“I got you, luv,” he whispered softly against her ear, the only other sound in the room the slapping of their sweaty bodies as they thrust together.
“Spike!” she screamed to the heavens as his repeated hits to that one spot deep inside her finally sent her over the edge. Her vision seemed to be swimming around her, her body exploding into a wondrous world of sensation and pleasure.
She clutched him roughly to her as the world melted around her and there was only him left, him and the pleasure he brought her.
“’Liz’beth!” His roar echoed through the walls when the spasms of her inner muscles finally enveloped him fully in pleasure, ecstasy beyond anything he had believed possible. He continued to thrust within her, milking this moment for everything it was worth…
And then they crashed back down to the bed together, and there was a moment of complete silence where they just lay there, astounded by the power of the experience they’d just shared.
Spike was the first to stir, mumbling softly about how beautiful and wonderful she was as he slowly pulled out of her.
She whimpered slightly in protest when he left her, blinking up in lazy contentment and watching as he disposed of the condom in the trashcan before wiping himself thoroughly clean. She gave him a soft smile when he sat down on the bed beside her and carefully parted her legs, cleaning her inner thighs as well.
A little giggle escaped her lips then, and he looked at her curiously.
“There’s no way the entire house didn’t hear that,” she informed him, still laughing behind her hand.
“They’re prob’ly still out,” he hoped, throwing the sticky towel into a corner.
“Hmm,” she agreed, her face practically glowing from the climax she’d just experienced, “come back to bed…” She wiggled over to the edge so that he could take his usual place between her and the wall.
He gladly slid under the covers beside her, draping his sated body over hers as they lay side by side, looking deep into each other’s eyes.
“You were amazing,” he whispered softly, brushing one sweat-soaked strand of hair back from her forehead. “You are amazing, luv…”
She gave him a shy little smile. She’d kind of got the impression in the past that sex consisted of a guy grunting on top of you until he was satisfied and then he fell asleep. As cliched as it sounded, she hadn’t been quite convinced that orgasms and g-spots had really existed. And she certainly hadn’t believed that guys wanted sweet pillow-talk afterwards. Spike was shaking her world that night, in more ways than one…
“That was…yeah,” she blushed, not quite sure what to say, “great…”
“Just ‘great’?” Spike teased lightly, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead nonetheless.
“Really great?” she teased back, reaching out to touch him lightly, stroking sweat-slicked muscles that shone even brighter in the moonlight when wet.
With a satisfied little murmur, he pulled her against him, moving their bodies so that he lay on his back with her body sprawled atop his, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her golden hair fanned out across his bare chest.
“It’s never been like that for me before,” she finally admitted softly, her fingers still caressing his smooth skin. “I’ve never…” she blushed and then blushed again at how stupid it was that she was still blushing after what they’d just done.
She giggled slightly at the ridiculousness of the notion. Spike raised his eyebrow, and she explained the joke to him, making him chuckle as well.
She smiled and snuggled into him, amazed at the easy playfulness that had taken them over now. That was another thing that was different; her other experiences hadn’t had the same aspect of comfort.
“Is it because they were just boys, and you’re a man?” she wondered aloud. “Or maybe,” she added shyly, “it was just because it was you…”
He gave her a truly delighted smile in response to that. “Think that’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me, luv,” he whispered into her hair.
“Mmm,” she nodded with a sleepy yawn, “and you managed to put my worst fears to ease as well…”
“Oh?” he raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“You didn’t play bad punk music,” she teased, “you didn’t call me ‘Summers’ when you came…”
He chuckled and pulled her closer against him, letting his own eyes drift closed as sleep fell upon him as well.
“And you’ll still be here when I wake up…” she finished.
“’ll still be here,” he promised softly.
But she had already fallen asleep, the tension that had built within her finally released, safe and comforted and realizing in her dream-world that the definition of ‘perfect’ she’d known last week had been wrong. The true meaning of the word had been tonight…