Chapter Eight

Buffy’s mother listened to the sounds of her daughter’s preparation for the night’s patrol with growing suspicion. As a rule, Buffy took a bath or shower after she returned from patrol, not before she left. And the after-bath moisturizing, toe-nail painting and hair curling left little doubt that the Slayer had something more planned than a quick circuit through the town’s cemeteries. Her innate desire to know what was going on fought with her unwillingness to put Buffy in the position of lying to her about her activities as she had before her secret had come out. That and the fact that she’d had an unexpected daytime visit from Spike that afternoon.

Hoping the visit was just a coincidence and had nothing to do with Buffy’s lengthy primping, she chose not to say anything. In the long run, an unwillingness to pry as well as the hope that Buffy was going to have something resembling normal fun, kept her quiet and she just waved “good night” as though the Slayer had not gone out to kill things wearing strappy sandals and perfume.

To assuage her guilt for her plan to spend the evening doing something other than her job, Buffy made a quick pass through both cemeteries that she passed on the way to Crawford Street, staking a few early-rising vamps before they even had time to realize where or what they were. Complimenting herself on her responsible behavior, she then hastened toward the burnt-out mansion and the very much undusty vampire awaiting her there.

The Desoto was once again in the driveway and the vampire met her at the door, wearing, rather than his signature jeans and tee shirt, a pair of dress pants and an open-at-the-neck dress shirt in a blue shade that matched his eyes. His gaze traveled appreciatively over her petite but shapely form and the clinging short skirt and low cut top she was wearing before he reached for her hand and pulled her gently into a warm embrace.

“I’ve been waiting for you, luv,” he purred as he nuzzled her neck and inhaled her unique scent. “What took you so long?”

“I…I had to…make a patrol first…you know, Chosen One…and…” Her voice trailed off as his lips traveled up to her mouth and he kissed her gently, making no attempt to deepen it but allowing her to feel the suppressed desire behind the skilled lips.

“So, you did what – stun them with the way you look tonight and then stake the poor sods while they were gobsmacked?” His gentle teasing told her that the extra time she’d spent getting ready for the evening was well spent and she giggled with pleased gratitude.

Suddenly she remembered the reason for her dressier than usual appearance, as well as the vampire’s own unusual attire, and a wave of shyness swept over her. She dropped her eyes and stepped back from him, wondering if there was something she should be doing. Spike fixed a perceptive eye on her flushed face and said softly, “There’s no rush here, love. It was your idea and you’re entitled to change your mind at any time. I’m yours to command, Slayer.”

“I…I haven’t changed my mind,” she said slowly. “I just don’t know what to do…what do you want me to…should I take my clothes off?”

“Well, not right here you shouldn’t,” he grinned, leading her away from the open door. “You never know which of these old houses might have actual people livin’ in them.”

Buffy blushed and hit his arm, hiding her embarrassment behind some minor violence. Laughing softly, he held out his hand and asked, “Come with me, pet?”

He led her through the dark house back to the sheltered room he’d been living in for months. After ushering her through the doorway, he closed the door behind them and pulled her back against his chest while she took in the room’s appearance. As Buffy stared around the no-longer familiar space, he put his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder asking, “What do you think, pet? Does it look like a good place to learn about love?”

Buffy gazed around her with awe. The room had been transformed from a very spare, stone-walled bedroom into something from the Arabian Nights. Candles flickered everywhere, lighting up the entire room and exposing things she had never really noticed before. On the floor was a soft oriental rug that Buffy was sure had not been there previously; the bed was neatly made with clean red sheets and a matching comforter with a red, black and gold pattern that matched the covers on the pillows. The walls were covered with some sort of soft fabric, also a dark red. Soft music was coming from speakers that she could not locate, although she did see the CD player, which was the apparent source of the music.

“It looks beautiful, Spike,” she breathed. “All that’s missing is the champagne to get me drunk.”

“Don’t want you if I have to get you drunk, Buffy—“ Panic suddenly colored his voice. “Did you want champagne? I didn’t think you would drink, being so young and- but if you want it, I can—“

She turned around and stopped his apologies with a kiss. “I was only kidding, Spike. I don’t drink and I don’t want you to get me drunk. I want to remember everything about this night. I know it’s going to be wonderful.”

“Way to put the pressure on a bloke, Slayer,” he said with a rueful laugh.

“Don’t you think you’re up to it?” she asked archly. “Did I pick the wrong vampire?”

“Oh, you picked the right vampire, pet. Make no mistake about that.” His voice rumbled from his chest as he growled in her ear. Rather than scaring her, she found that the growl sent her heart pounding in anticipation and she pressed up against his body, enjoying the vibrations he was sending through her.

“Oh my god, that’s sexy. It’s a good thing you never growled at me when you were trying to kill me.”

“Like that, do you?” he growled again, making her giggle with the sensation.

“Oh yeah. It makes me tingle…all over, not just my vampire tingles – or my…my Spike tingles.”

“You have Spike tingles?” As he talked with her, he was running his lips down her neck and sucking gently on the skin there, enjoying the breathless way she tried to respond to him.

“Y…yes,” she sighed, tilting her head to the side and giving him more access to the sensitive skin on her throat. “I can always feel you when you’re close by. You’ll never be able to sneak up on me.”

“That so, slayer?” The barely suppressed laughter in his voice was Buffy’s first clue that while he’d been nibbling on her neck and talking in his deep, seductive voice his hand had been slipping under her shirt and unfastening her bra. Her muffled, “Eep!” as the hand slid around to cup a breast brought another smile to his face.

“Wow, that was smooth,” she managed to gasp, trying to pretend that having a man’s hand gently kneading her breast was an every day thing. When his fingers began to roll her nipple back and forth, she gave up and moaned into his mouth, her own arms going around his neck to hold her up.

Taking his hand away from her warm breast long enough to pick her up and walk to the bed with her, Spike gently laid her down and gazed into her trusting eyes. Her hair was spread on the crimson pillow case, the golden strands catching the light from the candles flickering around the room. He thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful and for moments all he could do was stare at her in awe.

As Spike remained where he was, leaning over the bed, but not touching her, Buffy’s expression changed from anxious anticipation to just anxious.

“Spike?” Her tremulous voice brought him out of his reverie and he flinched as he realized she thought he’d changed his mind. He quickly dropped down beside her, pulling her into his chest and running his hand over her head, stroking it and letting the silken strands run through his fingers.

“Ah, luv, my little Slayer. Didn’t mean to shut down on you like that, sweetheart. I just was so taken by the sight of you on my bed, all soft and trustin’ and waitin’ for me and I…I had to stop and wonder what I ever did to deserve this gift.”

Surprising them both by taking the lead, Buffy wrapped one leg around his and pressed up against him, murmuring, “You haven’t even unwrapped your gift yet.”

With a groan, he allowed himself several minutes to enjoy the feeling of her strong, but so soft and feminine, body against his. Minutes while he kissed her so hard her lips were swollen when he finally stopped and rolled her limp body away from his. With a satisfied smirk at the look of dazed lust on her face, he slowly tugged her shirt up until he could pull it over her head. He tossed it on the floor, to be closely followed by the already loose bra.

“Hey! I got that ‘specially for tonight, and you didn’t even look at it!” Buffy’s indignant protest at the casual treatment of her new lingerie trailed off into another moan as Spike’s lips fastened themselves around one nipple and he began to gently suck on it.

“I’ll look at it later,” he promised, switching to the other breast and causing her to gasp and arch up into his mouth. While he worked both breasts, using his lips and tongue, and even nipping gently with his blunt, human teeth, his free hand was sliding up under her short skirt and stroking the silky skin on her inner thigh.

There was nothing faint about the smell of her arousal now, and he found his cock straining hard against the fabric of his pants. Grateful for his decision to wear the looser-fitting dress pants instead of his jeans, he pressed his erection against her hip while his hand continued to tease at the elastic of her lacy panties.

When her hips were moving in an imitation of the motions of intercourse, he slid his hand into the lace and ran one finger lightly around her folds, spreading the moisture he found there until he had stroked every part except the little nubbin sticking up and begging for his touch. He pulled her panties down over her hips as he slid his mouth down her body.

Pushing the short skirt up to her waist, he dropped his head down to breathe in the heady aroma coming from her now-bared sex. One swipe of his tongue had Buffy arching off the bed with a muffled scream, it having caught her completely by surprise. She’d been expecting the gradual licking of her inner thighs and outer folds that she’d experienced the first time his mouth was in that area, but instead, he licked her back to front and then pulled her clit into his mouth and began to tease it with his tongue and teeth.

He waited until Buffy’s head was thrashing back and forth while she gasped and moaned incoherently, before giving in to her unspoken pleas and quickly sucking her into the first non-dream orgasm of her young life. He felt her strong thighs clench around his head as her hands buried themselves in his hair and forced his face against her jerking hips; he wondered briefly if he should warn her not to do that with a human male.

Poor chit. Doesn’t need me tellin’ her she might kill a bloke if she reacts like that to him. Maybe it’s just me that could get that kind of response from her. “S not like a human can keep that up as long as I can.

While Buffy recovered, her body still trembling, he was working on removing the little skirt that was still bunched up around her waist. Without actually opening her eyes, Buffy shimmied her hips so that he could pull it down and off her legs. When it reached her feet, she kicked it off herself, not caring where it landed.

The vampire moved back up to lie beside her, absently tracing random patterns on the smooth, tan skin of her stomach while he waited for her to acknowledge his existence again. Eventually, her eyes opened and she rolled her head over to meet his amused gaze.

“Are we going to do that again?” she asked softly, but hopefully. “Cause I think I kinda liked it.”



AN: I know I promised an update last night, but my internet connection didn't cooperate. There will be another one tonight - I promise!