“That was…” Sprawled across a comforter spread over the crypt floor, Spike tried catching his breath after their third earthshattering round.

“Amazing.” Buffy felt boneless, but eventually managed to roll over and nestle into the crux of his arm, her head on his chest.

“You’re amazing.” Spike dipped his nose into her hair and breathed deeply, causing an instant reaction.

“Again? Like, again, again?” Buffy smiled coquettishly.

“Yeah, again and again. Can’t hold back.” Spike rolled them. Buffy shifted to accommodate, her legs wrapping loosely around his hips.

Unlike the first frantic times, this was unhurried. Savored.

He teased her, tasting and mapping the slope of her neck. The valley between her breasts. The apex of her inner thighs. When he finally clasped his mouth over her sex, he was treated to a tangy reward andrelished every drop.

Spike scaled her body, dropping soft kisses along the way, ending at her mouth. Though sated, Buffy needed more. With a shift of her hips, she guided him inside.

“Oh, Buffy.” Spike moved fluidly, stretching out every sensation.

“Mmm…Spike.” Buffy cradled his face, savoring his mouth and her own taste.

Their climaxes built slowly, steadily. When the tide of her climax finally hit, she cried out and he was swept away in the wake. With a parting kiss, he settled beside her and pulled her close. Spike trailed his fingers lightly over her arm wrapped around his middle.

“I’m never moving again.” Buffy burrowed deeper into his side.

“Might get a bit peckish before never comes, pet. Know I will.” Spike’s free hand cupped her bottom, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Here, chew on this.” Buffy lifted her arm to his mouth. Spike growled and scattered playful nips up and down her arm, causing her to giggle. A jaw-cracking yawn soon followed.

“Sleep now, kitten. Can’t ravish you properly when you’re spent.” Spike placed a chaste kiss to her crown.

“’m not sleepy.” Buffy yawned again, her words trapped among the sound.

“Whatever you say, luv. Whatever you say.” Those were the last words she heard before falling off to sleep.




“Uhn…uhn…” Buffy bounced on Spike’s lap, steadily building momentum.

“That’s it, don’t hold back.” His chocolate smudged fingers digging into her hips and encouragement spurred her on.

Buffy woke to candle light, flowers and a battered box of chocolates. Even if the flowers were stolen from a grave and the chocolates were half eaten, it was so sweet. Well, sweet until the feeding of said chocolates— naked—gave way to something far sweeter.

“Yes!” With a final driving buck, one leg of the salvaged chair broke off, causing the pair to slide off onto the floor.

“Fuck!” Spike used the jarring landing to his advantage. Grabbing her hips, he pushed up and came into her hard.

Spent, it took a few moments to gather what just happened. Buffy’s laughter broke through the pair’s heavy breathing.

“Um, I think we broke your chair.” Buffy slid off his lap, giggling.

“I think we broke my arse.” Spike stood, rubbing one sore cheek.

“Oh, my poor baby. Let me kiss it better.”— Buffy knelt and turned him. She pressed a soft kiss to the injured area—“You have the cutest heart-shaped birthmark.”

“Do I, now?” Spike tried to look, but failed.

“Yeah, you didn’t know.” Buffy traced the outline with her finger.

“Can’t say ‘ve had any need to stare at my own arse, sweetheart. Especially when I have a fine one such as yours to gander at.” Spike pulled Buffy to standing, spun her around and dropped to his knees. He planted kisses over each round cheek.

“Looks like someone has a birthmark of her own.” Spike traced the heart with the tip of his tongue.

“Mmm…must be new. Don’t stop.” Buffy reached back and clutched his head, holding him to task.

“Won’t. Can’t stop.” Spike continued, his kisses changing to frisky nips. The more he tended to the mark, the more aroused she became. Didn’t matter how many times they were together over the last twenty-four hours, she didn’t want him any less. Actually, quite the opposite.

“Please.”

Spike stood, swept her up and carried her over to the sarcophagus. Their eyes never left one another.

“Spike, I lo—” Before Buffy could finish, there was a sudden shift. As if all the air and electricity was sucked out of the room.

Both set of eyes widened with realization.

“Go, let me go, Spike!” Like a fish on a hook, Buffy squirmed and wriggled to get out of his grasp. Spike held tight and set her on her feet.

Buffy stormed around the crypt collecting her clothes and dressing haphazardly, never casting a glance at Spike who just stood watching. He only intervened when she tried making her escape.

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

He held his ground, then stepped aside. It wasn’t the brashness of the Slayer in her voice that compelled him. It was the beseeching of the woman.

Spike watched her leave. It was the middle of the night, so he could’ve easily followed, but he knew it was best to let her go. No doubt, he’d demand an explanation. Yet for tonight he’d just remember. Hoping she would as well.