Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support. Also, a special thanks to MG, who has kindly stepped in to lend a hand while t_geyer takes a well-earned break. Unfortunately for the Americans in the audience she's a fellow Scot, so if Buffy ends up sounding Glaswegian instead of Californian for the next week or so until normal service is resumed, please bear with us as at the moment we don't have anyone to spot the Transatlantic differences.

SECTION 4 - ANGELS AND DEMONS

I'm sure you love someone
And someone loves you too

(The Tourists)




Chapter 4.04
Wednesday, June 12th, 2002


"There are ways to touch me that you haven't already tried?" Buffy asked with a gently teasing lilt as Spike carried her into their room, kicking the door shut behind them.

"There are a few subtle variations on a recurring theme." Spike's honeyed drawl was enough to make the muscles in the pit of Buffy's stomach tighten. His hands spanned her waist, picking her up and lifting her away from his body, causing her to pout when she had to lower her legs to stand on her own two feet. The vampire smirked at her obvious impatience. "Best shut those windows, poodle, unless of course you want a stray breeze to blow the curtains open at an inopportune moment."

"Poodle? Aren't you confusing me with one of your other women?" Buffy's gaze alighted on the armchair that Rogue had somehow teleported into at some point during their arguing and making up. The sleepy look the puppy gave her seemed to imply that she had been there for hours and wanted to know what the big deal was. Buffy grudgingly decided they had a far better chance of not being disturbed if they left her where she was, as opposed to having her whining and scratching on the opposite side of one of the doors.

"Not sure what she is, but it's beginning to look more like she's part pony than part poodle. Windows?" Spike reminded her, sending her off with a pat on the butt.

The blonde looked back over her shoulder and almost managed a glower. "If I didn't owe you big time, I might take this discussion further." As she moved to make sure the room would remain free from direct sunlight, she could hear Spike pulling open drawers behind her. When she turned around the vampire's hands were full of soft, white silk.

"Oh, no!" she muttered, shaking her head.

"Oh, yes, honey," the vampire countered, a core of steel in the velvet softness of his voice. "You might not have realised it at the time, but you chose the game when you picked that costume." His eyes wandered over her baby-pink satin corset and matching panties and her pale, sheer hold ups with a rose lace pattern on her thighs. He nodded at the champagne stilettos on the floor next to the bed, where she had slipped them off to better chase after him. "I think those are meant to be part of the outfit. Put them on." For a second, Buffy looked to be about to protest at his high-handed manner, but Spike was having none of it. "You owe me, baby. Besides you know I won't tease you for more than an hour or two. You've kept me waiting for sixteen days and..." His eyes shifted to the lime green LED of Buffy's alarm clock. "...Nine hours, give or take."

Instead Buffy switched to begging. "Spike, please? Can't we just make love the normal way?"

Spike's hand reached out to cup her cheek as, having already slipped the shoes on, she swayed elegantly towards him. His touch was reassuring, love and lust far outweighing any residual resentment at her treatment of him. "This isn't a punishment. Trust me," he whispered in her ear.

Spike pushed all but one of the long slim scarves into the pocket of his tight black jeans so that they looked like a white water cascade, shifting irresistibly as he moved. He lifted her left wrist. "Hold it out, baby."

Still slightly nervous, Buffy did so and Spike placed the centre of the scarf over her wrist, wrapping it around three times to provide some cushioning before tying the ends in a tight knot that left the ends of the scarf trailing from her pulse point. He pulled another of the scarves from his pocket, having to use one hand to stop the others from following along with it. "Other arm, baby." Buffy was helpless to resist the husky whisper, even though she had little idea what the vampire had in mind.

When the second scarf had been attached to her right wrist in a similar manner, he led her to the foot of their bed. Placing her hands on top of the metal framework, shoulder width apart, he picked up the trailing ends of each scarf and tied them in a loose loop around one of the long vertical bars that made up the foot of the bed.

Examining her bonds Buffy doubted that Spike was planning on face to face contact for their union. The obvious position was for her to be bent over with him behind her, but the way he had attached the scarves also left the possibility of her kneeling or even with a little strain on her arms lying face down on the floor.

Spike ducked under one of her arms to stand between her and the end of the bed. His cool lips brushed against hers with an unbelievable tenderness and the last of Buffy's apprehensions melted away. A low moan rose in her throat and she would have arched against him, only the corset was like a satin prison, remaining ramrod straight from her tailbone to just under her shoulder blades as her body moved within it.

She didn't have to bear that particular frustration for long, however. Spike stepped back and pulling two of the remaining scarves from his pocket, he ducked beneath her arm once more, the sound of his footfalls telling her that he was behind her. He folded the two scarves in half lengthways and layered them one on top of the other before placing them over Buffy's eyes and tying them tight enough that there was no chance of them accidentally slipping off.

Buffy's gasp of surprise showed that whatever she had been expecting that wasn't it. "Spike?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

Her only answer was the press of a very male body against her back. Even the corset, which she was now beginning to hate with a passion because its armour-like rigidity denied her so many sensations, couldn't totally disguise the feel of his erection pressing against her, heavy denim brushing her thighs. Strong hands slid around her waist and then down until his fingertips teased the vulnerable flesh of her inner thighs. Gentle lips nuzzled against her neck and then sharp but careful teeth nibbled at her earlobe but the vampire avoided her claim mark, knowing that that would bring the situation to an end far more quickly than he had intended.

A questing fingertip moved back upwards, gliding along the edge of her panties until the corset got in his way. "How many pairs of knickers did you buy to match this thing?" The slightest sibilance in his voice when he whispered in her ear told her that he had not bothered to maintain his human form and that knowledge made Buffy squirm even more against him in anticipation.

Letting her head drop back against his shoulder, she answered, "three," in a breathy whisper.

"Good," Spike answered with barely a pause in his assault on her neck.

Unable to see what he was doing, Buffy was intensely attuned to both his touch and the sounds he made as he hooked the fragile panties from under the bottom of the corset and made first one side and then the other fall away with a tearing sound that made her feel damp just thinking of its contained power. Then, he was gone.

She had to use all her concentration to catch the sound of him taking a deep breath over Rogue's gentle snoring. "Already wet for me, baby? Can't wait for me to fill that succulent pussy, can you?"

Buffy heard the familiar thuds of two heavy boots being pulled off and discarded. "Talk to me, Buffy. Your body says you want me, but I want to hear you say it."

Buffy hesitated, still not quite as loquacious during sex as her vampiric partner. There was a rustle of material from behind and off to one side, and then something soft hit her arm, slithering over it with a waft of Spike's cologne before dropping to the floor. Behind closed eyelids Buffy conjured images of an alabaster chest and rippling abdominal muscles, no longer hidden by his black silk shirt. She was unable to deny him any longer. "I want you. God, do I want you!"

A fingertip ran down the centre of her back, plucking ever so slightly at every point where the ribbon fastening the corset crossed over until, halfway down, it came to the bow that was securing it. Buffy tried to reverse toward him but, short of pulling the bed with her, she had reached the edge of her bounds. The vampire was obviously working at arms length, only the very occasional brush of a fingertip telling its message of anticipation, love and desire, though even the brush of the ribbon as he unfastened it made her skin tingle.

Buffy sighed. Soon the self-inflicted implement of torture would be gone and they would make love, skin on skin, muscle against muscle.

Her hopes were dashed as something cool and firm pressed into the small of her back and she felt the corset cinch in even tighter around her. Somewhat belatedly she worked out that it was Spike's knee that was pressing against her.

"Spike, I can't breathe..."

Buffy jumped as he answered her, realising from the feel of soft skin against her butt that his shirt was not the only clothing he had removed. "You can breathe just enough to make it fun, love. Trust me. Take shallower breaths. Don't try to fill your lungs." The rasp of ribbon let her know that he had refastened the bow that bound her.

"Spike, I realise you probably have way more experience with corsets than I have... but that was on dead people."

Cool flesh brushed against her inner arms and Spike's voice came from in front of her once more. "Would I ever take a chance on hurting you, my sweet thing?" A tender finger traced the curve of her breast where it nestled on the superstructure of stays and satin before she was fairly certain that he turned his back to her.

"Buffy, I'm going to untie your wrists, but first I want you to promise me that you won't take off the blindfold."

The slayer nodded her assent but she still couldn't help reiterating her complaints about her attire. "My insides feel like they're all squished together and these shoes are killing me."

"That's sort of the point, beautiful. The other, not the shoes, they just help with the height difference."

"Wh-." Buffy's mouth dropped open as she realised what he meant. "Oh god." Spike was such a tight fit in any case and if she understood him correctly, he'd just laced her up so she could hardly breathe so that things would be even tighter. Adrenaline surged through her veins and she didn't know whether it was in anticipation or fear.

Spike's lips closed over hers, dry, firm and full, his touch offering reassurance. His hands curved over her shoulder, one long slim finger drawn to the mark that branded her as being his, brushing over it so lightly that if her mouth had been free Buffy would have gasped for breath. As always a flush ran through her body bringing with it a trembling weakness in her limbs. She clutched at him for support, savouring the feel of his tapering back, deceptively muscular shoulders narrowing to that almost impossibly slim waist. Her legs were already slightly spread, just to provide her with more stability on her stilettos and with a shimmy of his hips Spike pushed his dick between her thighs. Slowly his head moved back and forth, almost stroking her wet swollen lips until he too was slick with her fluids. Unconsciously, she opened her mouth to him, their tongues caressing to the same rhythm as their lower bodies, matching the music on the tape that Buffy had put on what seemed like hours earlier. Before long, any worries she had had were forgotten.

She finally threw her head back gasping for air, taking longer than normal to recover because she could only manage shallow breaths.

A husky whisper sounded in her ear, close enough that she could feel his breath. "Tell me what you want, Buffy." It wasn't so much a command as a plea. Under the guise of his normal dirty talk, the vampire was asking for confirmation that the last couple of weeks were just an aberration.

Buffy struggled to answer as she tried to regulate her breathing once more, her words coming out between gasps. "I want you, Spike. I want you any way you'll have me, but most of all I want to look into your eyes as we make love."

Strong arms suddenly lifted her off her feet, tossing her onto the bed, far more solicitous of her wellbeing when she couldn't see. She knew that under normal circumstances he would most likely have swept her feet from under her and screwed her into the carpet. She parted her legs wide as she felt Spike settle over her, propping himself up on his elbows. "Take me, Spike. Please. Make me feel whole."

Spike slid the blindfold from her eyes and even in the dim light of the room with all the curtains drawn she could see a mottled pattern on his chest, but his words made her dismiss it until later. "Guide me in, baby."

Reaching down, she used both hands to stroke and fondle him, one hand pumping him slowly whilst with the other she gripped the end of his shaft, using her thumb in a circling motion to spread the fluid that leaked from the tip. When she lifted her hips and pushed the first couple of inches inside she was relieved to find the sensations no different from normal. Suddenly, Spike drove into her with one massive push and she screamed his name but not from any pain. Spike had made sure that she was ready for him, but her walls pressed so tightly that his movement couldn't help but hit every sensitive nerve ending inside her.

Blue eyes locked unblinkingly with hazel as he slowly withdrew, watching every flicker that intimated her pleasure as he pulled slowly out of her. This time as he rammed deep inside her, she pushed her feet flat to the mattress and lifted her hips. Time after time, he plunged into her as far as he could go and then pulled out incredibly slowly, her nerve endings responding like fireworks on the fourth of July.

Buffy's eyes never left his the whole time. "Spike, baby, gonna come soon. Come with me... please, Spike."

In response, his thrusts gradually became more frequent until Buffy could hold off no longer. Her whole body shuddered as her orgasm swept through her, her knees giving way so that she couldn't lift herself to match Spike's actions any more. Still he moved faster and faster inside her and every piston stroke sent out tremors that seemed to prolong her shuddering climax until with one last thrust he arched his back and spilled his semen deep inside her.

---

Buffy reopened her eyes, surprised to find Spike lying next to her as opposed to on top of her. He gently stroked her hair, in a way that even if they hadn't shared an empathic bond would have said over and over again that he loved her. Buffy nuzzled into his hand, realising when she moved that the lingerie of the Spanish Inquisition (which she admitted, to herself at least, had turned out to be not quite as tortuous as she had anticipated) had been discarded.

She fixed him with a teasing glance. "This one doesn't count," she told him.

Spike looked puzzled and slightly concerned. "What do you mean it doesn't count?"

"In your running total for how many times you've 'shagged me senseless'... Due to assistance from partial asphyxiation, it doesn't count."

"Oh?" Spike smirked. "I guess in that case it's a one all draw."

Buffy mock scowled at his tacit admission. "You couldn't have passed out some time when I was awake to gloat about it?" she teased.