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Cousin Arabella by Lilachigh
 
Chp 10 Learning Curve
 
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Cousin Arabella by Lilachigh


Chp 10 Learning Curve



Buffy was dreaming: she was walking along a beach somewhere very warm. It was evening, the sun was setting in soft slashes of apricot and peach. The sand was soft and cool under her hot feet.

She reached a little hollow under some palm trees and lay down to watch the waves curling idly against the sand. A little breeze blew against her skin and she pulled off her top, freeing her breasts to the air. She was so comfortable; she wriggled down into the sand, warm and cosy.

She stretched, feeling her skin stretching. Her legs were spreading slightly as the muscles tensed and she could feel the sweaty dampness between her thighs and, as she coiled upwards out of her dream, she realised someone was rubbing the lips of her sex very gently, tangling in the damp curls, prising open the lips and a finger nail was run gently across her clit.

She whimpered in delight at the feeling that surged through her and as her sleep faded, she began to open her eyes.

‘No, pet,” a voice purred in her ear and something very soft and dark descended on her eyes and was tied swiftly behind her head.

‘What - Spike - ”

“No talking, no looking, just let yourself feel, pet. Believe me, you’ll enjoy it. Trust me.”

Trust him? This was Spike. Trust? She lay shivering in anticipation, realising now that the breeze of her dreams had been Spike blowing softly on her nipples which were now erect and aching. She reached up to rub one and found her hand being caught and held.

‘Naughty, naughty. Mustn’t touch. Let Spike do that for you, sweetheart. Now, what did you want to do. Rub that little tit? Oh, aches does it? Is that why you’re moaning?” A finger began to circle round the nubby tissue, then flicked once over the tip.

“Spiiiiike...”

‘No talking. Didn’t I tell you. Next time you get punished. Want to know what the punishment will be?’

She trembled, then squealed as he turned her over fast and slapped her bottom once, very hard, then turned her back.

‘Bastard!”

Then she screamed as he turned her again, and this time it was two short sharp slaps that made her bottom sting. But this time he left her on her face and his finger slid down the stinging slope of her backside round to her clit.

Oh, god, it was so dark and every part of her nervous system was now screaming and pleading for some sort of release. She bit down on the pillow, clenching her hands in the sheets, feeling all her inhibitions vanishing as she lifted her hips and invited him in.

And as he thrust home, gasping her name and his love as he began to pound her down into the mattress, she wondered for a split second where this Buffy had come from. Was this really her? Then the explosion of their joint climax hit them together and the world went away somewhere, she didn’t know or care where. But as the centuries of swirling colour began to fade, somewhere in her brain, there was a tiny voice saying, ‘Is this what normal girls do?’

When she woke again, the could tell it was nearly evening. The heavy drapes showed very little light round their edges. She sat up in bed. Spike was sprawled out like a star fish, managing to take up most of the bed.

Buffy hugged her knees to her chin and sat looking at the sleeping vampire, the muscles of his back, the riot of blonde curls, still damp with sweat. Had it all been a dream? Then she spotted the black velvet scarf lying on the floor next to the bed, and as she moved, realised her bottom was still smarting. So no dream.

Oh god. No dream. The spanking, how many times? It had become a game. She’d kept saying his name, knowing that one spank would follow, then he’d finger fuck her until she begged him to stop.

And all the time she’d been blindfolded, every other sense highlighted by the loss of her sight. She felt her cheeks flame as she recalled the last time - he’d been murmuring ‘pretty hot pink bum, Slayer. Let me in the pretty hot pink bum.’

And she’d let him - do - that - to her. And she’d enjoyed it. How could she? OK, sleeping with Spike. Not a good idea, ever, but she did it. She needed to feel something, anything, these days and he was...he was able to make that happen.

But this morning had been more than having sex, more than getting rid of the tensions of everyday existence, getting some colour into her drab life. It had been - she searched for a word, wishing she had Giles’ vocabulary - oh heavens, what would he have thought if he’d seen - no don’t go there. Slam door!

Decadent, that was the word. She’d been acting like some -

‘Slayer?” A drowsy blond head lifted and Spike was smiling up at her.

She smiled back nervously, wondering what he would say. Would he mention what they’d done? Was there some way of knowing if you’d reacted correctly? Been good at it?

He yawned widely and she tensed. “Bloody hell, I’m hungry. Do you reckon Bella’s got any blood around?”

“Yuck, Spike. So romantic! You really know how to make a girl feel special after you’ve - ”

“Well, it’s your fault. You certainly know how to ring all my bells. Look at these scratch marks! You know, I don’t think Slayers should have finger nails. It’s an unfair advantage. I think I should have made it two spanks for each word you spoke.” He grinned at her. ‘Fun, though, wasn’t it?” He wriggled closer, his voice a low purr. “You came so hard that last time, I thought you were going to explode. If I’d known playing games made you so hot, I’d have suggested some ages ago.”

“Fun? Sex shouldn’t be fun. Was I hot - we shouldn’t - did I -?”

He raised an eyebrow. He knew that look, that tone of voice. Bloody hell, why was he always coming up against this wall of insecurity in her where sex was concerned? Had none of the wankers she’d slept with before given her any encouragement, told her how fucking marvellous she was at it?

OK, Liam had turned into Angelus on the same night, so perhaps he hadn’t had time then. But he could have told her afterwards. He couldn’t have forgotten. Not Mr Broody. He was Irish. He remembered things that had happened centuries ago. Although probably he and Buffy hadn’t done anything too exciting.

But the others - Parker, Riley. Spike made a very large mental note to track them down and kill them, painfully, when he got back to Sunnydale.

“Of course sex can be fun, pet. And passionate and exciting or boring and mundane and anything you want it to be inbetween. There’s no rules, pet. That’s half the fun. As long as you both agree and take precautions – which in our case we don’t have to - and like what you’re doing and what your partner is doing to you. If not, then you yell and get the hell out.”

“And are there - other games?”

Spike looked at her with an odd expression. She could almost have called it tender.
‘Oh pet. You’d better believe it. Now, not wanting to change the subject, because having sex with you is the most interesting thing in the world, but are you saying you’re not hungry? Those noises I can hear coming from your stomach are all in my imagination?”

Buffy winced. He was right. Her stomach was gurgling. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d eaten. Only the pink champagne they’d drunk. Which was probably why she’d let him - right! She’d been tipsy.

She immediately felt better. She’d heard what Spike said but she didn’t think she believed him. She could accept being drunk - she knew what effect alcohol had on her, but she couldn’t accept that she’d enjoyed what they’d done during the last few hours. Normal girls wouldn’t act like that.

‘I’m going to find us something to eat,’ the vampire announced, prowling round the room, discovering where he’d thrown his pants, hopping on one leg as he pulled on his boots.

“Then we have to go home,’ Buffy said. “I can’t leave Dawn for another night.”

Spike’s face appeared as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. “Red’s there, isn’t she? We can stay another night, if you like. Give you a chance to get to know Bella better. ”

Buffy bit back the automatic reply that she’d prefer to get to know small pox better than Bella. The beautiful vampire was his cousin, after all. You didn’t get to choose your family, only your friends. And Spike’s radar where Arabella was concerned was so off the map, it was in space. She was a manipulative bitch, a murderous, lying, evil -

“ - she’s had such a hard life. At least she’s got Div’vid. You like him, don’t you, even if he is a regurgitating demon? I know they’re not everyone’s cup of tea.’

Buffy was still getting her mind round ‘a hard life’. Oh, yes, a billionaire’s mansion, servants, diamonds, emeralds, cars, jets, horses, probably other homes round the world. Oh,yes it was a hard life.

She wondered how Arabella would manage working double shifts in the burger bar. The grease, the rude customers, the stink of meat, the aching legs and feet. Arabella wouldn’t look so great then, would she!

Then her lips twitched as her honesty prevailed. Knowing Arabella, she would bat those huge sapphire eyes at the nearest male, complain of feeling tired, curl up in a chair and drink coffee while everyone else ran around helping her.

‘Yes, I like Div’vid. He’s great. But I still need to get home, Spike.”

‘Okay, Okay, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Oh, sorry, you’re not wearing any, are you? or anything else, come to that. Do you intend to drive home completely stark naked, Slayer. Not that I mind, but your neighbours might be a bit surprised when you get out of the car.’

Buffy stared at the strips of mauve polyester that were all that remained of the hideous dress Arabella had found for her hours before. She didn’t even remember Spike tearing it off her. ‘Perhaps your cousin could - ” she began and Spike interrupted, half out of the door.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out. Back soon, pet. Bloody hell, I’m shattered. You kill me, Slayer.”

Buffy sat and stared at the closing door. She shivered, although the room was quite warm. She wondered what her life would have been like if she had killed Spike, back in those early days when he was just the latest Big Bad in town.

It would have been so simple then. A quick stake one dark night, a puff of dust and no more William the Bloody. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. How stupid was that! Why on earth should the thought of killing a vampire upset her? Okay, she hadn’t killed him - and she’d never been able to give herself a good reason why not - and now he was harmless to humans.

She leapt off the bed and hurried into the shower. Harmless? No, that was a long way from the truth. The damage he did to her heart was growing week by week.

Wrapped in a towel, Buffy padded back into the bedroom and stopped dead. Once more Arabella was waiting for her. She’d changed again - how many outfits did this woman get through in one day for god’s sake - now she was all in black, tight jeans that showed every extravagant curve and a low cut black T-shirt that revealed a bust that immediately made Buffy feel inadequate in that department.

Buffy stiffened and stood still. It wasn’t just the clothes that had changed. The supercilious expression, the disdainful pout had both gone. She expression on the vampire’s face was very familiar - cold, chilling blue eyes, mouth a thin straight line - the last time Buffy had seen that expression was watching Spike stalk a demon round the cemetery at home.

Arabella was hunting. And Buffy had a nasty feeling that she was the prey!

to be continued












 
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