Originally written for the Spuffyverse community, but it grew too long for them, so it’s just another re-write of Dead Things, which I swore never to do. Sigh.
Season VI: but twisted
Disclaimer: Joss made money from them, I just have fun.
Beta’d by the wonderful and accommodating Always_jbj, who also made the gorgeous banner. (all bow)
“Do you even like me?”
Buffy peered at him from under her eyelashes, her lower lip coming out in the beginnings of a pout as though she was unhappy admitting to it. Spike’s unbeating heart would have skipped a beat if it had been able. The softness of her gaze was as unusual as the flirty, teasing look on her face and for a few seconds he allowed himself to believe that she didn’t mean it when she said there was nothing between them. The Buffy he fell in love with didn’t jump into bed with men she didn’t care about. And she certainly didn’t spend hours having urgent, passionate and occasionally violent sex with them.
Feeling some confidence about their relationship for the first time, he pulled the handcuffs from under the nearby table and dangled them before her widening eyes.
“Do you trust me?” He watched as she looked away, biting her lip in indecision. When she turned back to him to whisper, “Never,” her eyes were not on his, but remained fastened on the dangling restraints. He felt her heart rate increase and sensed the rise in her body temperature. When he smelled her renewed arousal, he almost groaned as he leaned toward her and whispered, “Please, love? Let me show you how good it can feel to let someone else have control.”
Visions of herself at Spike’s mercy, hands stretched over her head while he ran his fangs over her throat, sent a new rush of moisture between her legs, even as she recoiled in fear.
Grabbing the cuffs from him, she said quickly, “You first, Spike. Do you trust me?”
Giving her an unexpected grin, he held out his hands and said with a smirk, “Not for a second, pet. That’s half the fun of it.”
Instead of laughing with him, she dropped the handcuffs and stared at him with frightened eyes.
“You don’t? You don’t trust me? You think I would h-hurt you for no reason? “ Her terrified expression gave him his first real glimpse into how unsure she was of her life since her resurrection.
Closing the small distance between them, he wrapped his arms around her stiff, trembling body and cursed himself for a fool.
“I’m sorry, love. Please believe me. I was just lettin’ my mouth operate without using my brain again. I didn’t mean that. You know I don’t mean that. I trust you with my life. I swear, Buffy. Didn’t I come to you for help when I got chipped? Would I have done that if I didn’t know that you wouldn’t kill me? I’m sorry, pet. Would never not trust you. Never.”
Buffy remained immobile as he babbled in her ear and struggled to soothe her tense body into relaxing. When she finally sagged against him, he let out an unnecessary breath of relief; only to hold it again as she whispered, “That was the old Buffy. The good Buffy. Not the one who was so…b…bad she couldn’t stay in Heaven. Maybe you’re right not to trust this one. Maybe I’m –I’m wrong. You think I came back wrong, don’t you, Spike? Isn’t that what you said? Is that why I’m here, doing these…things with you? Am I wrong?”
He fell back on the pile of rugs, pulling her unresisting body with him and holding her as tightly as he could without cracking her ribs.
“Bloody hell, sweetheart. If I’d had any idea you were going to listen to me…” He took a shaky breath and continued, “You know I was just brassed off about the way you tried to kick me to the curb after we’d kissed. I was just mad and …and hurt and I lashed out. I’m sorry, Buffy. Never meant it – never should have said it. You’re not wrong. You’re perfect, pet. Just like you always were.”
“If I’m so perfect, what am I doing having sex with a soulless vampire on the floor of a crypt? Why am I thinking about…” her voice trailed off as she reached behind her and picked up the handcuffs. She studied them for a few seconds as though pondering the uses to which they could be put, then raised her eyes to his again. “Why is the thought of having you at my mercy so appealing?”
“Because you’re crazy for my hot, lil’ body?” he ventured with a tentative smile. When her lips twitched in answer, he relaxed and held out his hands hopefully. “Come on, Slayer. I’m yours. Do what you want with me. Let those fantasies come true.”
Even as she fastened his wrists together and looked around for something to tie them to, she was muttering, “I don’t have fantasies about you, Spike, I have nightmares.”
“ ‘S long as I’m in your dreams, love…”
Buffy tied his cuffed-together hands to the leg of his heavy bed and sat back to look at the lean, muscular body now stretched out before her. Her mouth got dry as she ran her eyes over his chiseled chest, and flat stomach. Her eyes were drawn from the light brown hairs on his lower abdomen to the rigid shaft rising from the nest of curls they led to.
“Don’t point that thing at me,” she ordered, flicking it with her finger and eliciting a gasp from the vampire. A quick glance at his face and rapidly darkening eyes and she knew the gasp was not one of pain. She flicked his cock again, then began a gentle game of batting it back and forth between her hands. She carefully avoided looking at Spike’s face, knowing if she met his eyes she would be too embarrassed to keep it up.
Instead, she listened as he hissed and moaned, smiling when he arched his hips up toward the ceiling when she moved her finger tips to the very tip of his cock. She toyed with the head for a while, smiling again when he growled softly with impatience, and risking another glance at his face. His eyes were shut and his head was thrown back. His expression of ecstasy caused a little thrill to shoot through her body and she moved her hands to his sharp-edged hip bones. Holding his lower body still, she buried her face in the silky skin of his lower abdomen, allowing the crisp hairs there to tickle her nose. She inhaled the scent of their mixed spendings from the nest of curls surrounding his cock, burrowing further into them with her nose until it was touching his sac.
She ran a tentative tongue out to lick one of his balls, then abruptly sucked it into her mouth and began to play with it using her lips and tongue to roll it around in her mouth. A guttural groan and a muttered, “Bloody hell, Slayer,” told her she wasn’t hurting him and she quickly moved one hand to cup the other ball and squeeze it gently in her warm hand.
Tiring of groans and endearments coming from the bound vampire, she removed her mouth and ran her tongue up his shaft before releasing it completely. A desperate whimper told her he hadn’t been ready for her to leave off her ministrations and she found herself taking pleasure in his frustration.
She put her hands on his smooth chest and ran them down, raking her nails hard enough to make marks, but not hard enough to break the pale velvety skin under her hands. Spike shivered under her hands and whimpered again when she stopped moving. Experimentally, she took one nail and ran it around one nipple before running it back down to his hip, this time, putting enough pressure on it to raise a long red welt.
His growl made her glance back at his face quickly and she asked, “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to. Not much, anyway,” She finished, remembering his words to her that first night.
“Only in the very best of ways, pet,” he answered quickly. “Only in the best of ways. You make it hurt so good, Buffy.”
Her own desire to raise more welts on that flawless skin, as well as the urge to sink her teeth into him somewhere caused her to sit back in fright. “But what if I really hurt you? What if I forget how strong I am and I do something…”
“Trust me, love. I’m counting on how strong you are,” he said with a lascivious smile. When her worried look didn’t go away, he squirmed until he could wrap one leg around her waist and pull her on top of him. She settled down on top of his thighs, still wearing her dubious look.
“Alright, Slayer. We’ll do this the right way. Should have told you the rules up front, I guess.”
“Rules? There are rules for this sort of thing?” Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed when he laughed softly.
Choking back the laughter, he smiled reassuringly and said, “Well, not for vampires – cause, you know, evil and pain and blood…”
She nodded reluctantly, remembering how she had accused him of loving her only because she beat him up all the time.
“But for humans, there are,” he continued. “You just need to agree on a ‘safe’ word, and you have to trust your partner to respect it if you decide to use it.”
“A safe word?”
“Yes, love. A word that you would only use if you wanted your partner to stop.”
“Um, wouldn’t that be ‘stop’ or ‘don’t’?” Buffy frowned in confusion.
“Needs to be a word you wouldn’t be likely to say and not really mean it.”
“Well, that’s just…of course if I said it, I’d mean it.” She huffed indignantly, shaking her head at the foolishness of the whole thing.
He cocked his head and gave her one of his patented smirks. “That so, pet?” he purred, running his bare foot up and down her back, then using his toes to pinch her ass.
Buffy twitched and giggled, “Stop that! It tickles.” When he immediately dropped his leg back to the rug, she stuck her lip out in disappointment.
Spike watched her face as it slowly dawned on her what had just happened, smiling when she uttered a meek, “Oh.”
“Yeah, love,” he said softly. “ ‘Oh’. How often do you tell me to stop what I’m doing to you? And how often do you really mean it?”
“Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “I get it. So, we need a word that you can use to let me know I’m really hurting you.”
“If it will make you more comfortable, love. I trust you. I don’t think I need one.”
Buffy shook her head stubbornly. “No, you should be able to stop me if I…not that I think I would, but…”
“What? No, it isn’t…poppy whatever and since when do you use words like that anyway?”
“That’s my word, pet. Not one you’re ever likely to hear leave these lips, so if you hear it…”
“I’ll know you mean it,” she finished for him.
“Exactly, now where were we? Oh, right, you were using your little fingernails to make me bleed…”
An hour later, when Buffy had indulged every whim she’d ever had when it came to exploring a man’s body with her teeth and nails, she finally lowered herself onto his aching cock and began to rock. The vampire’s sigh of relief when he felt her warmth surrounding him echoed through the cavernous room.
Although his shoulders were aching from having his arms stretched back for so long, he refused to ask for release as he watched Buffy play with his immobile body and make herself wetter every time she put her mouth somewhere new. In addition to not moving, he made a conscious effort to not speak either, not wanting anything to distract her from her explorations and experiments. She now knew that sucking on the skin over his non-existent pulse could send him into a babbling frenzy of lust and make his fangs drop of their own volition.
The last time she settled her mouth against his throat, she slid her arms up until her hands were entwined with his still-pinioned ones and she was lying flat against his chest, her soaking sex just touching him. As though they were of one mind, she slid down just as he raised his hips and they both sighed as he slid into her. The sight of the Slayer riding his cock, head thrown back and breasts bouncing with the motion of her body, was worth every ache and pain from his long-suffering shoulders. She rode him until she was quivering around him and just as she collapsed back down onto his chest with a muffled scream, his release shot out and into her sending her into another small orgasm.
For long minutes she remained on top of the uncomplaining vampire, gasping for air and trembling from exhaustion. As soon as she could move again, she scrabbled for the key that Spike had carefully placed away from their coupling and moved up to unlock the handcuffs. She noticed his wince as he brought his arms down to his sides and she looked at him apologetically, whispering, “Why didn’t you use the word? Why did you let me keep you there so long?”
He smiled into her worried but sated-looking face and said firmly, “I’d have ripped my arms off if that’s what it took to bring that look to your face, Slayer. Don’t worry about me. It’s not like I’ve got circulation to cut off, you know.”
He froze in surprise, fearful of moving or saying anything that would stop her, as Buffy began to vigorously rub his shoulders, massaging the stiff muscles until she could feel them relax. The unusual actions from the girl who normally ran out after sex without so much as a ‘good-bye’ had him concentrating not to let the grateful tears out of his glistening eyes.
Fortunately, she was too busy trying to make his shoulders feel better to have noticed his awed reaction and by the time she stopped rubbing, his normal smirk was back in place. He couldn’t control his mouth, though, and a soft, “Thank you, love” came very close to spoiling the moment as the Slayer immediately moved away, mumbling, “You’re welcome” and searching for her clothes.
With a sigh, the vampire acknowledged that his time with Buffy was over for the evening and he sat up to watch her dress. He raised an eyebrow at her and held up the handcuffs, asking with a leer, “Should I keep these handy, then, pet?’
Buffy blushed and wouldn’t look at him, but she didn’t say “no” and she watched hungrily as he carefully placed them on the nightstand beside the bed.
Next time, Slayer. Next time, he silently promised as she disappeared up the ladder with a wave.
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