Come for the Peep Show
She didn’t know what made her look. She just knew it was a bad idea.
A bad idea on so many different levels.
Sinful came to mind initially, as she stood in the shadows and watched his hand drifting over his erection with absent-minded intent, her tongue caught in her teeth to prevent its inevitable slide across her lower lip.
Because sinful soon blossomed into sinfully delicious.
Spike’s lips curled around his cigarette and he inhaled a slow, steady drag of smoke. Something about those lips, the way they caressed the cigarette, wrapped around it like it was precious, captivated her.
Buffy couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He took another deep drag, exhaling it in a cloud of noxious smoke made somehow erotic by its passage through his lips, and tossed the cigarette into the damp grass, where it smoldered a moment and died in a wisp of white. Then those lips parted in a hint of pleasure, and his gentle, subconscious rubbing grew deliberate.
He moved beneath the nearby tree at the base of the wall, which shadowed the vampire from all but his hidden voyeur. The moonlight penetrated the tree’s canopy, dappling his form in blue-white light, striking the sharp lines of his face in high relief and marking his hand’s passage down his black-covered torso in tantalizing flickers of notice.
The sound of the zipper, pulled slowly downward, dominated the night. Buffy’s gaze locked on the oblivious vampire sliding his lengthening cock free of his jeans. Strong, pale fingers wrapped around the shaft and began moving with languid, practiced strokes.
Its size impressive even with distance, Spike’s cock grew with each glide. His eyes fell shut and his head rested against the bole of the tree, and Buffy could hear him exhaling quiet, heavy breaths in time with each downward pump.
An overwhelming surge of lust enveloped her in a blazing wildfire that spread from her womb through her entire body. Her clit throbbed and moisture flooded her panties. Breathing became a luxury her scorched lungs couldn’t afford, and she grew lightheaded under the relentless assault.
A loud groan of undeniable bliss slipped past the vampire’s throat, and Buffy fought the urge to answer it. Keeping her teeth embedded firmly in her lip, she tugged at her jeans until the button gave and slid her fingers inside.
Spike’s strokes had grown more urgent, and he pulled at his cock with rapid, nearly violent movements. Buffy slipped her fingers between her slick labia, coating them in her copious juices before seeking her aching, needy clit. One gliding circle over the sensitive nub started her knees trembling and stole her already scant breath. She braced herself against the wall as the steady pressure of her own fingers, coupled with the exhilaration of catching Spike in such an intimate moment, propelled her rapidly toward climax.
Growls punctuated Spike’s moaning cries, the feral sounds only furthering the powerful arousal gripping her body. His hips thrust in time to the motions of his hand, and Buffy mimicked his movements, rocking her hips against her fingers in time to the vampire’s rolling plunges into his hand’s welcomed depths.
He came with a roar and one final, brutal tug, spilling his efforts in spurts of white that glittered in the moonlight as they dotted the grass by his feet. Cool fire spread from her toes to her fingertips, and her body seized, inner muscles thrown into powerful spasms as her orgasm crashed over her.
Panting heavily, Buffy blinked her eyes open from where she had fallen in the dewy grass in the wake of her release. Still standing beneath his tree, Spike lit another cigarette, the smoke drifting around his head in a hazy corona. He exhaled, and his eyes fluttered shut. Spike sniffed the air, head lifting, turning slowly as he searched for . . .
A grin stretched those teasing lips and his blue eyes opened.
He was staring at her.
Buffy froze, hoping that if she didn’t move, he’d somehow think he’d made a big mistake.
He proved her optimism wasted when his still-exposed cock suddenly stirred, and he chuckled devilishly, tossing his head back in obvious delight. Taking the rapidly stiffening shaft in hand, he stroked slowly, teasingly, his tongue curling behind his teeth in a leering, self-satisfied smirk.
“Best come on out, Slayer,” Spike said, voice carrying easily across the space between them. “You’ve had the bloody peep show. Time for the feature now, yeah?”
Don’t move. Don’t get up. Don’t take that step. Don’t start walking. Don’t . . .
Despite her internal protests, Buffy’s feet carried her steadily toward the grinning vampire stripping her naked with his penetrating gaze. His eyes widened in desire as she stopped in front of him, flushed and breathing hard, jeans open and riding low on her hips.
Spike touched his fingers to her cheek and slid his thumb along her bottom lip, while his other hand abandoned his cock to settle at her hip.
“Hello, love,” he cooed, drawing her closer. “Wanna dance?”
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