16.
That was us.
Buffy’s declaration echoed in Spike’s mind. Minutes dragged on and still she lay asleep in his arms, soft and vulnerable. Spike could see it now, as her pliant body lay before him. The demon’s appearance, manner and demands did not alarm her in the least. In fact, she was fueled by it. She wanted that. She really wanted him. It was a stunning realization.
He’d had plenty of women before, fucked and drained them with relish and glee, but none of them had ever wanted him as deep as his cock and fangs could go. Never before had a warm body taken the force of his desire and responded with a kiss, a sigh and that soft, persistent nasal buzz.
Humans were food, end of story. A little animated crying was like cherries in the sweet sauce. A boisterous fuck got the kinks out, but Spike never toyed as Angelus had. He never twisted a mind until it broke and then drained the pitiable shell remaining before moving on to the main course of serial atrocity. Those acts of sadism never interested Spike.
Spike’s experience with sex had been dark and hard: Drusilla’s molten giggles, Angelus’ taunting and the pain. There had always been pain of one kind or another. In recent years, Drusilla often skipped the sex parts altogether for the grim floor show of torture. It wasn’t Spike’s thing per se, but it made his lady happy.
Sex had never been like this.
He’d fucked the slayer, a dizzying prospect in its own right, but she’d done the same to him, taking him beyond the bounds of his previous experience. She was magnificent, even like this, unconscious with a bead of spittle glistening at the corner of her mouth.
The depth of what occurred staggered him. It was still happening inside him. The fullness. The acceptance. This was what Drusilla had taken from him, the love and trust he had waited over a century for. There was no lie in this metal box. No deceit. Spike held the burning truth snoring in his arms.
She showed no signs of waking any time soon so he picked her up carefully, walked to the cot and set her down. Taking care not to disturb her, Spike eased his body beside her and then covered them both with the blanket. Even asleep Buffy seemed aware of his presence. A contented sigh escaped her mouth as she turned on her side. Spike moved into place behind her and draped his left arm over her.
He lay still, simply absorbing her alluring presence. The scent of her skin and hair filled his nostrils. The touch of her heated flesh warmed his body. The steady beat of her heart sang to him. When her fingers entwined with his Spike raised a little on his elbow to check if she was still asleep. She was. Clearly, this was not an unusual position for them to assume.
Gradually Buffy’s breathing altered as she rose from the depths of sleep.
“Sorry about that,” she whispered and stretched the blazing arch of her body against his. “I always get sleepy after that.”
“Not a problem pet, your snoring was highly entertaining.”
Buffy frowned and rolled onto her back. “I don’t snore.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but–“
“I do NOT snore.”
“Think maybe you’re just embracing your inner lumberjack?”
“HEY!” Buffy reached beneath the covers and snared his erection.
“OH! No need to be…oh fuck…rash…unhh…Slayer.” She altered her grip and stroked him with desire. A faint wince faded into an expression of helpless pleasure on his face.
“That’s my boy,” Buffy cooed seductively. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes,” he gasped a snarl.
“Good. Now it’s my turn.” She released his cock and flipped over, landing astride him. “Let’s see how you like my tune.” Spike stared up in wonder at the soft contours of her body. His eager cock stood in solemn salute to this golden obelisk of flesh towering over him. With gentle fingers she angled his length to her opening and eased him inside. Spike’s eyes widened at the feel of the intense clench. A mindless coo escaped his throat.
Buffy raised her chin and took in a sensuous breath of air. Her actions were deliberate and slightly exaggerated. There would be no lingering doubts of her capabilities or her evident pleasure. “Mmm…There’s my guy. I missed my big, hard boy.” She dazzled him with a smile and then went to work. Holding him fixed within her, she began a muscular undulation. There was no external indication of her effort except her still posture, concentrated breathing and Spike’s facial distortions as his gaze flickered from her face to the rapture between her legs.
“How are you…Ohhh…unhh…fuck…” Spike’s voice dissolved to silence.
“You like this, do you?” Spike could hardly blink. Nodding would be too much work. He simply stared.
“Good, I’ve got your attention, now–” An involuntary muscle jerk interrupted her. “Uh-uh-uh,” she scolded slowly. “Bad boy. You need to pay attention.” Her fingernails grazed a light serpentine down his chest and she tightened her muscles further. Spike’s mouth gaped open in response. Where had this icy sexpot been hiding? She was sharp and calculated, pristine and haughty and in complete control.
Spike hoped he wouldn’t drool too noticeably.
“Time to learn my steps. This is the slow burn, Spike. Stay focused, I may decide to quiz you later.” Buffy smirked and began by raising her pelvis, slowly easing but not releasing him from her fiery snare. After flexing her muscles and squeezing her passage almost closed, she descended on him. This action forced his cock to pry her flesh apart and open her.
“Mmm, kitty like.” She repeated this slow maneuver over and over while closely observing his reaction. Spike lay beneath her with a far away look in his eye. His tongue curled against his teeth in lazy repetitions while his fingers rested loosely against her hips. The only thing that registered in his mind was her body possessing his cock.
“Where’s that sassy attitude now, huh?” she goaded softly. “Mmm, yeah, right here. Right where it belongs. I must say, you’re doing very well, Spike. Very studious. Full marks for extra hardness.” She winked at him.
When at last Buffy registered the push of his hips she knew it was time to up the ante. “You know what’s so good about the slow burn, Spike?”
“Wha…”
“I can do it at faster speeds,” she flared her eyebrows at him. “See if you can keep up.” With an increase in rhythm, Spike once again lapsed into a state of helpless rapture.
“Bloody…” His eyes rolled back into his head. A recognizable quiver started in his hips. Buffy promptly stopped her movements and settled still against his pelvis, locking her muscles around the base of his shaft. Another groan.
“I think you’re going to come too soon. We can’t have that. Manners are very important in bed, Spike. We can’t tolerate such rude behavior now, can we?”
“Unhh?”
“Don’t worry, I can hold you back,” she whispered slyly at him. “Make you beg.”
“What?” Spike’s eyes snapped open on cue. Beg? William the Bloody did not beg. Not to Angelus and certainly not to this one. Defiance was one of Spike’s sexiest looks.
“You think I can’t do it?” Buffy bristled with erotic charge. “I have resolve in this area, Spike. Real control. You used to love it. ‘The best torture yet devised’. Those are your exact words. I held you off from coming for the better part of two hours once. You called it Herculean. Now, I haven’t done that in a while but I’m itching to see how soon you’ll break.” Maybe there was a touch of exaggeration there. Buffy hoped she could hold off her own orgasm long enough to show him what they could be together.
“What the fuck?” Spike tried for a growl but it came out airy and strangled. She had him securely snared. It was exquisite and horrible and he didn’t want her to stop. His knee began to tremor.
“You think you know how to fuck?” Buffy spoke with crisp seductive authority. “I need a man in my bed, not a boy with a big shiny toy.” It was oddly arousing taunting Spike with his own sexual prowess. “You and I have been experimental over the years, so don’t think you’ve got anything on me.” Her voice dropped to a crotch level rumble.
“Remember that Paris brothel thing from World War One?” Spike’s eyes sharpened at the memory. “Well, we’ve done that with chains…and upside down, too.” Buffy let out a sigh of sweet remembrance. Upside down was a total bust as it produced giggles instead of orgasms, but the chains were a big, juicy hit. At the images her words conjured, Spike shivered with expanding need.
Paris… Fuck…
“Bloody– Slayer, I’ve got to–” He panted in desperation. “I’ve got to come. I– Fuck–” His face buckled with effort. The vein in the middle of his forehead bulged under the strain. “I’m gonna bloody burst!”
“Well, what do you say, Spike?” Her mouth curved into an enchanting smile. This was something he was unfamiliar with. Submission had never tasted like this: soft and playful. This was perfection. Even that hardly seemed descriptive enough. Spike needed to search for a new word. Something more perfect than perfect. This one was in control and he was in ecstasy. That was a definite improvement over Drusilla’s broken record and there wasn’t a branding iron in sight.
“Please…” A tentative whisper flickered on his trembling tongue. “Please…”
As soon as Buffy released her hold, Spike rolled her underneath him and thrust into her in a mad frenzy of release. Buffy held him as he rode out his blistering climax. A plaintive voice rose from his throat and tumbled into the crook of her neck; no words, only slivers of meaning fell from his lips onto her skin. His back bowed and flexed through successive staccato bursts until the urgency of his intent finally ebbed away to a soft trickle.
With effort, Spike raised his head to look at her. There should be words after something so wonderful but his mouth was empty. That, however, had never stopped him before.
“That was…” Stupefaction still gripped him. “I never…” His words ended in an awestruck grin. Buffy took a deep cleansing breath and giggled her contentment.
“Me either.”
“You’re…amazing. Bloody amazing.”
“You were kind of spectacular yourself.” Spike gathered some semblance of his defensive and cocky attitude. He didn’t want to appear the complete blubbering git after all, even though he felt pretty much like pudding.
“Just my luck then, that vampires turn you on, eh?” His voice was low and breathy from his considerable effort.
“Not vampires. One. Just you.” Not everything from the past needed to be revisited. Buffy preferred to concentrate on the look on Spike’s face instead. He still had that look of transfixed wonder. It was adorable.
“Kiss me.” When their noses collided awkwardly only sheepish smiles erupted. Buffy touched her lips to his and nibbled. They moved slowly over each other, carefully exploring the horizon there. Soft lips in no hurry. Gentle tongues with no purpose other than to taste glided over one another. Spike brought his palms to Buffy’s cheeks and held her in place. He paused. A kiss to the tip of her nose. That produced another smile and then a sigh. More kissing. More kissing was definitely required. Eventually Spike pulled out of her and settled once more at her side.
Spike felt ease he’d only imagined before. He’d been Angelus’ bitch and Drusilla’s dog and now he was this golden skinned angel’s…something. He didn’t know what that was, exactly, but he was going to find out. The way he felt at this moment he’d follow her anywhere…even into the mouth of hell itself.