A/N: Since this happens sometime after PoS, they’re mated. :) enjoy!

Light My Fire
by SmokeScreen

Buffy stretched languidly against her vampire’s smooth, cool chest. She purred in content as her back rubbed rhythmically against him. She closed her eyes as she felt him stroke her tanned limbs. It was a lover’s stroke – familiar, arousing and soothing all at the same time.

It was a slow and lazy afternoon meant for naps, non-stop television and binge eating. Buffy heard the clattering of feet from upstairs. Dawn’s hurried steps. Willows soft and light strides. Tara’s own silent ones following her own lover behind. She heard the front door close just after Dawn yelled, “Going out for ice cream!” But the noise drowned away as her ears zoned in to the sounds of soft, borrowed breathing – in, out, in out… She felt his chest and hard stomach rise and fall against her back. Buffy smiled lazily. When he’s breathing like this, he’s almost human.

She felt him shift as he nuzzled the marks on the side of her neck. She leaned for access, allowing him to nibble, tease, and scrape the marks with a lone, sharp fang – just the way she liked. A low, primal moan escaped form her.

Sexy, Spike fangs…She inwardly giggled as she thought about this. She sighed dreamily as her lover sucked a bit, making her instinctively rub her bottom against his jeans.

“Thought you said we were supposed to be relaxing, pet,” Spike murmured against her neck, admiring the flawlessly toned, golden skin of her nape as he gently but teasingly played with the hem of her white, cotton shirt.

She angled her face so she could look up against him. Gently, she used the tip of her tongue to draw a line on his lower lip. She teasingly bit, drawing an aroused groan from him. She pulled away before he could ravage her mouth, something she knew that was coming.

“You’re right. We’re relaxing. Play later.” She smiled as she saw him give her that trademark head tilt and arched brow. He pulled her with him so he could sit up straighter.

He fiddled with his jeans, lighted a cigarette, turned his face away from her and then closed his eyes as he took a drag.

“Relax it is then,” he murmured as he continued to take a drag, but not neglecting to rub the hem of her shirt again, this time his hand inching under to stroke her flat stomach.

Buffy watched him. She had long stopped lecturing him about the evils of that vice –a wasted effort because as he would causally but oh-so-sarcastically reply, “Hello? Demon?!” As long as he didn’t do it in their room, Dawn’s room, the bathroom, the living room, and the kitchen (making the basement and the outside premises of the house the only legal place to take a “fag”) she was fine with it.

The stick was expertly nestled against his long, pale fingers. He brought it near his mouth, captured it, and with every pull his cheeks hollowed. He angled his face upward this time, simultaneously flicking the butt of the stick on an empty can of Diet Coke.

She shifted but in a way that she was still nestled against his chest, tucked between his legs, so she could observe him better.

“Why do you smoke?”

Spike thought she looked like a twelve year old kid when she asked that question, her eyes wide, luminous and curious. He grinned as he took a puff. “Goes with the Big Bad look, baby.”

She rolled her eyes.

He slowly smiled as his free hand left her stomach to cup her chin and thumb her lips. “Coz’ it makes me feel relaxed.” He kissed her temple then his hands ghosted on her breasts. Definitely not twelve… Then back to stroke her tummy. “This relaxes me too.”

“I have never tried it.”

He chuckled softly.“Is that a signal for me to start corrupting you with my vice?”

“I didn’t say I wanna try it, coz’ I feel like I have…that I do…” She bit her lip as his fingers fully cupped the underside of her breasts. “…whenever I kiss you…your taste.” Coherence was lost as he circled around her nipple. “Mmmm…Spike.”

She sighed. Expert fingers. Expert hands.

“It heats me up, luv,” he spoke low as he pulled the nipple back and forth.

“Uh-uh…”

His hand traveled lower, down to the zipper of her jeans.

“How does it…uhhh…work?” she managed to question as he started to caress the outline of her panties.

He took a long drag to show her. “Just take it in…pull it inside…” he plunged a lone finger inside to slide through her clit rhythmically. “In, baby,” he spoke against her ear after taking that drag as he inserted a finger inside her. “Then breathe out…” he pulled the finger out.

“In…out…in…out…” Every drag had a simultaneous equivalent of a finger movement.

“Got it pet?” he questioned as he nuzzled her the side of her face.

“Uhhh…” She was panting heavily now. “No…not really…not yet…” She licked her lips. “Maybe…more demonstra – ahhhh!” She moaned as he pushed two more of his fingers and started to pump her faster.

He watched her, eyes half close, mouth slightly open in passion as she rode his hand

Sexy as hell… This woman made him lose his mind just with one look.

She was close. Beads of perspiration was building, face flushed and lips swollen form her own biting. “Spike…”

“Give us a kiss, luv…”

Buffy obliged, dying to taste him. As she soon as she opened her lips, he slowly breathe out the smoke inside the caverns of her mouth, sealing it with a violent plunge of his tongue while his fingers attacked her as deep and hard as he could, drawing her to a helpless orgasm. She moaned her pleasure as his tongue curled around hers, devouring and consuming her even with just a kiss.

When she came to, he slowly released his fingers, licked it, then tilted her face toward his for a chaste kiss.

She breathed heavily. “That was just…”

“Hot.”

She could only nod. “I didn’t even choke. Or gag.”

Spike chuckled against her hair as he threw the butt of the finished cigarette aside.

“Feelin’ relaxed now?”

He bit back a groan when she gave him that slow, feline smile. She turned fully so that she straddled him.

She started to lick the marks on her neck, feeling suddenly harshly possessive and aroused. “My lover…” She felt him smile. “My mate…” Her own marks tingled. She sucked his neck, tongued rough hard, then slow and tender – alternating just the way she knew he liked.

Little, soft hands reached downward as she rubbed herself against him.

“God Buffy…”

Lower, lower, until she started to fumble his zipper. He bucked upward but she eluded him.

“Where is it…hmmm Spike?” She started to tease.

“Down, Buffy…luv…”

“Where, baby? Down?”

A grunt, a groan. Her hands would wander in the area but won’t rest home. “Yes, down! You’re killing me luv…”

Fingers caressed the soft curls, the head of his hardened flesh and then –

“Oh, there!”

His eyes shot big as he heard a flick.

His Zippo.

Bloodyhell! The woman was torturing him.

“You’re holding the wrong thing luv,” he said, thrusting upward.

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head.

He watched mutely as she lighted a cigarette, surprised at her own expertise. He figured that the only way she knew how was through him, those countless times she’s observed and watched him – Slayer attentiveness and all.

She took a slow drag then slowly blew on his face. A lazy smile playing on her lips.

Freshly Ravished Buffy.

Smoking.

On. His. Lap.

He thought he’d never seen anything more seductive.

“Now where was I?” her left hand finally began to stroke his cock, her eyes turning liquid pools of green as she began to pump him softly.

She kissed him, deep, hard. She tongued his lower lip before releasing him.

She rose then, took him in and plunged deep.

“My turn to demonstrate.”

The End.