Chapter Three

*~*

Buffy knew she should have run.  She should have torn herself away from temptation and taken off into the night, leaving Spike and his intentions to simmer alone in the alley.  But she hadn’t.  She went from wanting to shove him down and throw money in his face to wanting to shove him down and climb on top.  She could have passed it off as being caught up in the moment, a temporary insanity she would deny in the morning and use as an excuse to threaten the vampire with bodily harm.  Then she’d followed him inside, giving meaning to what had happened by choosing to take it further.

And further they went.  She knew they’d go further still, and not because Spike would push her into it.  No, she was more than willing.  Hell, she was bordering on desperate.

Buffy was so aroused she could barely stand it.  She strained her eyes to look up at Spike, hoping to catch his eyes but finding them closed tight.  His brow wrinkled and he gasped, his parted lips quivering a bit before he let out a soft moan.  The noises he made, from the rumbling groans that turned into growls to the breathless panting and barely-in-control whimpers, made her burn for him more and more with each passing moment.  Her pussy ached to be filled and her belly fluttered with ripples of pleasure with even the slightest friction on her clit. Painfully erect nipples rasped teasingly against her loosened bra whenever she made the forward motion to envelope Spike’s cock into her waiting mouth.   Each time she withdrew, sucking hard, grazing it with her teeth or with her tongue, Spike’s fingers curled into her scalp and he moaned her name like a prayer.

Spike worshipped her as she sucked him off, and it got her hotter than she ever could have dreamed.  

His cock stretched her lips with each smooth slip in and out, and his balls felt heavy in her hand.  She never wanted this to end, except she did.  She wanted his knees to buckle and his fingers to pull on her hair until it hurt.  She longed to learn what he sounded like when he came and hear him shout her name in release.

She wanted to taste him.

The world had changed.  Loathing, revulsion, disgust, the back-of-her-mind worry over what would happen if that chip stopped working, all of it gone, poof, unimportant, invalid, ridiculous.  Spike was hers. She already owned his heart and was well on the way to possessing his body.  If he had a soul she’d take that, too.  Greedy?  Oh yes, but she didn’t hear Spike complaining.

She loved the way he moaned, as if he’d happily stake himself now because life couldn’t possibly get better than this.  Buffy flicked her gaze up to his face again, loving the closed-eyed, open-mouthed look of bliss she’d put there.  He was close.   His words became more and more nonsensical and a slowly building tremor shook his body.  Buffy’s heart pounded with anticipation as he moaned loudly and slammed his fist into the wall.  Then his knees did buckle, and he roared – a raw, primal sound that stirred something hidden deep inside her and left Buffy fighting the urge to crawl up his body and take him in right now.

Instead, Buffy pulled back once more, sucking hard and feeling a thrill surge through her as Spike cried out her name and bucked his hips forward, thrusting into her mouth even as she moved forward.  The tremor grew into full on shaking.  Buffy squeezed his cock with her hand, quickening her pace and taking him in as deeply as she could.

He came with a violent jerk and another soul-stirring roar, tightening his grip on her hair as Buffy tasted the first bitter hints of his climax at the back of her throat.  She started swallowing everything he had to offer, fingers curled and still stroking his cock as he spilled his release into her mouth.  She strained her eyes to the point of pain to stare up at his face shifting back and forth at random between its human and vampiric versions, a sight she couldn’t help but find dangerously beautiful.  He stopped making sounds but she could read the word on his lips.

Buffy.

Buffy, over and over again until he went slack above her, forehead hitting the wall with a thud while he uncurled his fingers, releasing her hair from his almost-painful grip.  Buffy let his softening cock slip from her mouth, placing a kiss on the tip before leaning forward, resting her head on his thigh, breathing hard and listening to Spike doing the same thing.  His fingers in her hair combed gently through pulled strands and made her scalp tingle, and she sighed and shuddered as the tickly sensation trickled down her neck, along her spine, and between her legs like a wildfire.

“Oh, God,” she said, unable to keep from moaning. 

Because now that Spike was having his afterglow, and her part in it was finished, all she could think about was her own demanding need.  My turn!  My turn!   Except that unless Spike’s fingers were up to the task, Buffy wasn’t sure how he was going to take care of that, being Mr. Spent and all.  Maybe the blowjob wasn’t such a great idea...

She couldn’t take it any longer, and slipped her hand into her pants.  Her fingertips, slippery the moment she nudged past her rumpled thong, barely brushed her clit, and the resulting stab of pleasure had her biting her lip hard enough to break the skin.  Buffy knew it wouldn’t take much to send herself over, but she’d be lying if she thought her own fingers would be as satisfying as feeling Spike’s touch.

As if he’d read her mind, his hands dug into her shoulders, instantly bringing her attention to his wide, dark eyes and satisfied little smirk.

“Could watch you doing that all night,” he said, tugging her as though he wanted her to stand.

She let him pull her up, bracing against the wall and pushing with her legs to help.  The moment she came upright, Spike pressed in close, sliding his hands from her shoulders to cradle her face.

“Doing what?” Buffy asked, noticing that despite the apparent return of his usual cocky self, his body still trembled against hers.  “This?” 

She flicked her clit and gasped as the sensation washed over her, loving the way Spike’s laugh vibrated through both of them.

“Or did you mean this?” 

She glanced down between them and then quickly back at Spike’s face, sliding her tongue across her bottom lip and curling her mouth into her version of his smirk.  Spike’s eyes did that rolling back thing again and he groaned in a way that made Buffy feel very good about her recent performance. 

“Baby,” he said, brushing her cheeks with this thumbs, “you have no idea.”

Buffy had words planned in response, but Spike kissed them away.  The instant his lips touched hers again, she forgot what she was going to say and melted into the kiss instead.  The heat she felt between them all evening flared hotter.  It was scary how easily they’d gotten here, but she didn’t care so long as he kept kissing her.  She was growing rapidly light-headed again but stopping wasn’t an option.  He could kiss her to death and she’d go happily.

Buffy slipped her arms around his neck as the kiss grew even more urgent, almost frantic, with scraping teeth and bruising lips.  He was hard again; she felt his cock against her belly and groaned when she realized that it was going to happen far sooner than she thought.   Mr. Spent turned into Mr. Stamina, and he was about to kiss the pants off her.

Her feet hung in the air but she didn’t remember Spike lifting her, didn’t know when they’d started moving either and had no clue where they were going.  She just bit his lip and hung on for the ride.  Spike growled and stumbled and Buffy reached out blindly for something to hold onto.  Her hand closed around some heavy, hanging fabric that fell around them and did nothing to help Spike’s balance issues.  He hit the wall and Buffy swatted at the curtain, then gave up and wrapped her arms around his neck again.

They were tangled in the curtain now.  Buffy felt it all around her as Spike struggled to drag them through it.  The thick fabric muffled the music and all she could hear were Spike’s fast, huffy breaths and her own heart thundering in her ears.

A rush of air hit her when they finally tumbled free.  Spike lifted her higher and tugged.  Buffy heard fabric tear and then felt cold metal on her naked backside.  The sudden chill jolted her mind back into focus, and so did Spike’s fingers slipping inside her.  Curled digits thrust in once, twice, three times – just enough to make her legs tremble before sliding out again. 

Oh.  Oh yes, this was happening now.  His fingers disappeared and his cock glided between her slick folds, the smooth head slipping through her wetness and rubbing her clit.  Buffy’s hips bucked forward outside of her control and she suddenly couldn’t breathe.  Her head hit the wall behind her the instant Spike aligned himself with her opening, and she dragged in a gasping breath.

The world stopped.  Buffy looked into Spike’s eyes, so wide and astonished, as if he hadn’t expected to get here despite everything they’d already done.  Slowly, so slowly she felt each and every inch of him, Spike buried himself inside her.

Her whole body shook as his cock stretched her.  Buffy panted, gripping the metal rail beneath her with one hand and digging into Spike’s shoulder with the other.  He was splitting her in half, but it felt...

She didn’t have the words for how good this felt.  The little sting of pain only made it better, and when she had all of him inside her, and he pushed himself in even deeper, she thought she might cry it felt so good.

“Oh.  My.  God.”

“Buffy...”

The way he said her name made her shiver.  Breathless, husky, as if she were something so special he couldn’t believe that he actually had her.  He hadn’t moved, just held her gaze, trembling, as he gave her a bit of time to get used to him.

The burn all but gone, Buffy tilted her hips, finding the motion easy and the height of the railing perfect.  She felt a slight twinge from her wound but the fluttery wave of pleasure rippling through her made the discomfort insignificant.   Spike withdrew slowly and they broke eye contact, hers falling shut from the sensation, only to fly open again when he thrust back into her.

“Oh!” She moaned loudly when his weird but amazing little hip twist at the end of his thrust not only touched that spot, that one that sure as hell brought her to a hard, shuddering climax every freaking time, but did so in a way that had her feeling the near electric shock of pleasure all the way down to her toes and up to her eyebrows.

A little smile came to Spike’s face.  “Oh, you like that,” he said, repeating the twist on his next inward plunge. 

Buffy missed the look on his face because her eyes refused to stay open, but the rumbly purring sound he made when she cried out a second time had her imagining a smug little grin over finding her most sensitive place right away.  Well, she couldn’t let him get away with that.

As she moved her hips to meet his returning thrust, Buffy tightened her inner muscles around his cock, squeezing just enough to make his eyes roll back and bring a raspy groan to his throat. 

“And you,” she said, breathlessly, still squeezing as he withdrew, “like that.”

Spike chuckled and brushed his thumb across her cheek.  “And we’ve only just begun.”

Moving with him felt easy.  Natural, like breathing.  Whether he’d taken on her rhythm or she his, Buffy didn’t know.  She didn’t know what it meant either, except that the prickling in her neck and the swell of adrenaline spreading through her chest both frightened and thrilled her.  The physical pleasure was only part of it and the rest was so out there, so enormous, she couldn’t begin to try and explain it.  And she found it, this whatever it was, with Spike.   Sex had never been like this before, and Spike was right, they had only just begun. 

“Christ, you’re so bloody hot,” he whispered, pulling her away from her thoughts with his words and a body-rocking thrust.

“Ooh...and you’re—Oh, God, don’t stop!”

“Not gonna happen!” Spike answered, timing each grunted word with a hard thrust.  “Like it hard, baby?”

She did, even when she suspected that Spike’s idea of hard meant something different from Riley’s.

No.  No, don’t think about Riley!

Buffy nodded, focusing on Spike’s face and forcing Riley’s out of her head.  It wasn’t difficult, especially when Spike’s thumb began slowly circling her clit.

“Oh!”   She cried out at the initial contact, clutching Spike’s arms with both of her hands.  “God, that feels...”

Spike started trailing little wet kisses up her throat.  “Bloody amazing,” he murmured into her skin.

Her body was on fire, with Spike’s kisses on her neck, all soft lips one second, nibbling teeth the next, and his expert fingers stroking her just right, with just enough pressure to make her moan and clench around him, but too softly to send her over the edge.  And how he felt inside her...filling her, stretching her to the point of exquisite pain, like the forbidden lover in those awful romance novels.  And like those same novels’ passionate heroines, Buffy moaned and writhed and moved with him, squeezed him until he growled, and cried out when he rocked her body with those hard, rolling thrusts somehow just as tender as they were bruising.  

“You’re holding back,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes while he slipped his hand behind her, fingers splaying on her lower back.  “Don’t.”

Buffy shook her head in protest.  She so wasn’t!  How could he think—?

“Yes, you are,” Spike said, slowing his pace until he was barely moving, pressing his hand into her back while rocking slowly inside her. 

While it lacked the punch of their former pace, this way put near constant pressure on that tender place inside and on her clit at the same time.  Buffy’s eyelids fluttered and she groaned, a long, husky sound that couldn’t possibly have come from her mouth, except that it had – her throat felt raw from its raspy passage and before she could finish her thought, she was doing it again. 

“Lovin’ the soundtrack, pet,” Spike said, drawling the words with a curled lip as she joined him in this new but delicious rhythm.  “Now squeeze me.”

The demanding tone to his voice sent a shiver of desire through her, which she found a little strange considering how far past desire they were at the moment.  But she did as he asked, tightened her vaginal muscles around his cock.

Pushing on her back, Spike pressed into her so hard she felt it with every nerve in her body.

“Oh, God!”

He growled and pushed a little further.  “Tighter.”

Tighter?  But...

“You won’t hurt me,” he said, pinning her in place until all she could do was stare at him, panting.  “Tighter.”

Buffy squeezed, tighter and tighter until Spike’s head fell back and he let out a strangled sort of groan.  She would have stopped long before this point had he been...well, anyone but Spike, but there was no denying his enjoyment. 

When he looked at her again his pupils had swallowed up all the colour in his eyes.  His fingers curled into her side and he started moving, slowly like before. 

“Don’t let go,” he said.  “Let’s see what those slayer muscles can do.”

Why hadn’t she thought of that?  Slayer muscles.  She who could break doorknobs with her pinkie and throw objects and demons more than double her weight across a room without effort. 

“Tighter, Slayer,” Spike said, urging her by rocking his hips a little faster now, working his fingers between them to tease her clit.

Her muscles fluttered beyond her control, well past where she thought she could go.  She could feel it now.  Spike was right, she was holding back, but she couldn’t...could she?

Spike’s lips touched her throat again, floating over the place where her raging pulse beat close to the surface.  He was moving faster now, and she met him thrust for thrust without conscious effort, in that same easy way she noted before.  With her muscles tightened, she felt everything more acutely.  More intimately.  The simple act of in-and-out now made her whole body tremble, yet she knew she wasn’t even close to finishing.

“Tighter,” he whispered, nibbling her pulse point.

“Can’t,” she said, moaning loudly when he slammed into her.

“Can.”

Tighter.  Oh, God, tighter.  Spike moaned long and low.  Each time she squeezed, he ploughed harder into her and the feeling intensified until she could barely breathe.  She felt the leather give beneath her fingers’ death-grip on his shoulders.  Spike’s thumb worked steadily over her clit, and her vision grew fuzzy.

And still, he urged her on.   “Tighter. ”

“Spike...”

“I – oh fuck – can take it,” he said, between panting breaths.

“I—”

Spike growled loudly and his blunt teeth nipped at her throat.  “Do it.”

“But...”

“Do it!”

He bit her.  Hard.  Human teeth in her sweaty, pulsing neck.  And she caved, squeezed so tightly she was sure she was going to break him, but she didn’t care because oh...

Oh, God!

The orgasm hit her out of nowhere.  Harder than Spike’s bite or his fast, deep thrusts.  Her body quaked with shuddering waves spreading outward from her core, curling her toes and tearing a hoarse scream past her throat as her muscles clenched and tightened in uncontrollable spasms.

When she started coming down, Spike was still thrusting, still rubbing her swollen clit with painfully rapturous persistence, and still whispering tighter, tighter, tighter. And, God help her, she pulled her brain out of its afterglow-bound fog and did as he commanded.  They tumbled together, her second climax building out of the shards of the first but rapidly overtaking it.  Spike roared as he spilled inside her, rocking her with his powerful thrusts while she squeezed him with everything that she had.

Her body was still twitching with aftershocks for long minutes after as they held each other, gasping hard for breath, foreheads touching.  Buffy didn’t want to let go of him and he didn’t seem so willing to let up his hold on her, either.  So there they stayed, for minutes or hours or something that almost felt like days.  Spike moved his head, turned so that his nose brushed hers, and Buffy found his lips and kissed him.

It was a soft kiss, slow and tender, packed with emotion she couldn’t define.  She felt it bubbling up in her chest and realized she was crying, but it wasn’t out of regret or shame or anything like that.  Spike must have noticed.  Without breaking the kiss, he brushed away her tears and then cradled her head in his palm, fingers twining into her hair.       

The kiss stretched into eternity, deepening gradually and gaining in heat, but lacking the frantic, rushed feeling of their earlier kisses.  Buffy realized after a while that Spike was making slight but undeniable motions against her, and she started moving with him.  Very soon, she felt him harden inside her, and they finally pulled out of the kiss.

Buffy stared into Spike’s face, so different-looking now from hours ago, when he’d been not precisely her enemy, but something to be tolerated, or pitied, or at best ignored.  He didn’t look like that now that he was...whatever he was becoming to her. 

He loved her.  That was clearly written on his face and in the way he made love to her. 

Made love.  

No way it could be anything else.

Their movements continued, and their gazes remained fixed on one another.  Buffy hadn’t known what she was getting herself into when she agreed to his one little dance, and she still didn’t.

All she knew was that she no longer needed to worry about losing herself in Spike.

She was already lost.

*~*