What A Girl Wants

Chapter 6—Can’t Fight The Moonlight

Maybe it was a good thing patrol was a bust tonight. Buffy couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way the moon reflected off Spike’s alabaster skin. How the shadows on his face just accentuated his mouth, his cheekbones, his eyes, drawing her to face him, breaking her concentration.

She tossed her stake to the ground in a huff. “I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is you.”

She heard him chuckle. “’S a side effect of the claim, sweetheart. Part and parcel of the package.”

She couldn’t help it, she felt whiny and needy for a minute. “But I wanted to kill something.”

“I know. The lower classes of Sunny D just aren’t cooperating with you tonight.” He ran his finger up her arm, and set her trembling. “Can think of other things to do, if the demons won’t cooperate.”

She caught the look in his eye, and it took her breath away. She didn’t answer, just caught his hand in hers and headed back to the house.

Nobody was home when they got there. Willow and Amy had disappeared somewhere, and Dawn was still out with Tara. Giggling, they pounded up the stairs.

Breathless, they fell into Buffy’s room. They reached for each other, the want closing on frenzy, and their mouths crashing together in a kiss. She cupped his face in her hands, twining her legs in his as she moved them toward the bed.

They tumbled and fell, and she rode him to the floor, her crotch firmly pressed against his. She caught herself on her knees, mindful of his injuries the night before, and he jerked her roughly to him, pressing her against him, needing the pressure of her body for it to be real. Leaning up, she looked at his face. His eyes were tightly shut, bliss effusing him with a glow she’d never seen before.

“Spike, you’re glowing.” She reached out, touched his cheek, and he pressed his face against her palm, a deep rumble vibrating against her belly and lower. His chest pressed against her as he inhaled her scent, and bathed in her presence.

“Love you, pet. Love you so much,” he whispered against her palm.

“I love you, Spike. With all my heart.”

Her hair curtained them in a world of their own, blocking out all sights but the other’s face. She leaned down to press her cheek against his, mouthing silent thanks, then pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Spike, make love to me. All of you. Spike, William, demon. I need you tonight.”

“My pleasure.” Soft lips caressed her skin, across her cheek to her ear, then down the side of her throat. He paused at the hollow in her collarbone, both to lavish it with soft kisses and push her shirt off her shoulder. Her arms trembled as he worked the buttons open on her shirt, thoroughly exploring every newly bared inch. He cupped her breast through her shirt, nipples hardening eagerly under his palms. He spread the sides of her shirt open, his hands hovering over her ribs as he memorized her beauty. She took a deep breath, and his hands cupped her sides, sending ripples of gooseflesh across her body from head to toe and back again.

That made him smile, and changed his entire face. He looked almost boyish in his pleasure, and her heart filliped in her chest at the years that a soul and relationship with her could add to him. She had to make this good, make it work, just to see more smiles like that on that beautiful man’s face.

Thought and coherency deserted her when his mouth encircled one erect nipple. Delicious coolness surrounded her, and she arched her back to press herself into his mouth. He traced complex patterns on her skin, acquainting himself with all of her this time. He undid her pants, skinning them off of her body, and exposing her ass to the moonlight and the cool night air. She threw her head back, gasping, as he gripped globes that were perfectly fitted for his hands, and looked back down at him as he grabbed her hips and ground their crotches together. Heat rose off of her in waves, and he wanted inside her to burn, burn like nothing ever before.

Without warning, there was urgency in his movements as he somehow got them both on the bed. He removed her clothes, what she hadn’t stripped off when he lifted her in his arms, and yanked his shirt over his head and jeans down as he stared at her, determined and unblinking. She leaned up on her elbows and watched him, loving his impatience, feeling his need, wanting him to hurry and close the distance.

Spike crawled up the bed and over her body, muscles rippling. She thought how much he resembled a panther, all sinew and muscle, nostrils flaring as he caught her scent, her arousal perfuming the air. If anything he moved slower.

He scented over her belly, pausing above silky light brown curls, then on up, to her chest, her neck, and finally her mouth. Motionless, he breathed in her sweet breath and lush, intoxicating scent. She reached up with her mouth, and gently pressed her lips to his. He growled deep in his chest, and she saw something elusive flash through his eyes.

“It’s the demon, pet. Recognizing you as mate. Memorizing your scent. So I don’t hurt the girl. Never hurt the girl.”

She wound her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her. “You won’t hurt the girl, Spike. You love the girl.”

“Love the girl. Love you Buffy. Always have loved you.”

“I know, baby. I know. I love you. Enough talk. More kissage.”

She barely moved her mouth to find his. Lips parted, she tasted the tangy combination of flavors that was him. Tobacco, leather, copper, and whiskey added whispers of mystery to his scent, and she breathed deeply to capture it in her mind. His tongue prodded gently into her mouth, skimming across her teeth as he sought surcease deeper inside of her.

She groaned and wound her hands in his hair, raking it loose until it fell in ringlets all over his head. Then he nipped the peak he’d sipped from earlier, and she fisted her hands at the side of his head, holding him in place. He lavished his complete attention on her breasts, mouth and teeth and tongue and hands, as she twitched with every brush of his mouth or fingers. He pried her hands out of his hair and held them straight out to the sides. Raising his head, he swept his tongue across her mouth, her lips parting as she whispered his name.

“Spike, I need you inside me. I’m burning up, lover. Burning up.”

He kneed her legs apart, and seated himself into the apex of her thighs, his erection pressed against her, coating himself in her juices. Her slick passage called to him with a siren song of heartbeats and bloodsong as he rested above her. He wanted every moment with her tonight to implant itself in his memory; something to take out and reminisce over when they were together in future times.

Leaning up on his elbows and knees, he encircled his cock with his hand, teasing her folds slippery with silky juices and heated with passion. Her gasps turned into long, low moans that vibrated them both. He fitted himself into the opening to her body, then entered her slowly, slipping inside inch by inch with her every intake of breath. When he was completely inside her, filling her, she looked at him with wide green eyes.

“So—much….”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, pet.” He smiled down into her face, and watched as his chuckle sent more gooseflesh dancing patterns over her skin. “So tight, Buffy. So beautiful. I have waited a lifetime and an unlifetime to feel this with you.”

“Yours, please—just touch me. Just love me.” She sighed gratefully as he began moving slowly inside her. She began moving against him, craving friction, and he swiveled his hips, arching into her to provide that which she craved. She loved the sensation of his chilled flesh against her heated skin, loved the way he felt inside her as he moved.

He began building her slowly to her peak, the slightest movement throwing her closer and closer. Her head drifted weakly on the mattress, side to side, denying herself the chance to relax. Her muscles grew taut, straining for release, and she burned, so hot, so hot—she gritted her teeth, trying not to let go, wanting to wait for him, but her body was too hypersensitive and the explosions came anyway, her orgasm rolling her over like a wave. It stole her breath with its intensity.

Her body bowed under the force of her climax, her mouth a rictus of pleasure. Her pussy spasmed wildly around him muscles rippling across his cock, holding him within her and impeding his movements for long stretches.

She wrapped her legs around the back of his calves, her arms around his neck. “More.” Then she threw them, and they rolled and stopped with her on top. She sat up on her knees, his cock firmly ensconced inside her slickness, and she rotated her hips, moving against him slowly, her hips undulating even as her muscled walls gripped him inside her.

She was magnificent above him, golden skin and golden hair silvering in the moonlight. She raked her nails over his flat nipples, then pinched them lightly between her satiny fingertips until they were hardened like hers. She loved touching him, watching his face while she twisted her body on top of him, every emotion plainly etched on his features. He didn’t disappoint her. She watched him pass from awe to wonder to love, through a kaleidoscope of the myriad of feelings in between.

She became selfish, wanting all of him, and she reached behind her to grasp his balls in her palm, gently rolling them in her hand while she pulled tight the looser skin behind. He growled, and gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, but didn’t stop her explorations as she rocked over him. His legs fell open, and she slipped her hand beneath him to run her fingers between the contours of his buttocks to more tender places. He tensed slightly, she paused; he relaxed, and she continued, careful to use a gentle touch until he was comfortable again.

Rocking back, she pulled him to a sitting position, then clasped her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and brought him face to face with her. She smiled, touched by the look of utter adoration in his eyes. She moved again, Slayer muscles working furiously inside her. She ground her mouth against his, her tongue working between his lips, hand still behind her on his scrotum.

She kissed across his cheek to his ear, and traced the bell with her pointy tongue, then started whispering dirties to him. Her scent surrounding him, her body surrounding him as well, now her voice, sultry and suggestive, sending shivers down his spine—he was close to a stimulus overload, and he knew she was aware of what she was doing to him. Making memories to last, taking mental pictures of each other in every way possible.

She was close too, so close to another explosion. She whispered, he changed, growing yet again inside her until she worried her tender regions would split from pressure. Then she felt his teeth nipping at her neck, barely scraping over the skin, and she raised his head again to stare his demon in the eye. Golden and green eyes locked together, understanding of the other in both, and she closed her eyes and kissed him, swirling her tongue around and over each elongated incisor, lightly touching the tips. He showed amazing restraint over his demon for which she was grateful and proud.

She led him back to her neck and increased the pressure on his cock. Concentration wrinkling her nose, thighs trembling, she used full Slayer strength and control to flutter her muscles rapidly, rippling the length of him repeatedly. He could smell the musk of arousal and sex, her impending orgasm, her essence, her blood, and when she whispered again, he was more than happy to comply.

Golden skin, satiny silk under his lips, split willingly under his teeth, and the ambrosia of her spilled across his tongue, exploding in his brain and triggering his release. She writhed her hips and went over the edge with him, each pull on her neck looping back to her pulsating clit and throbbing pussy, tightening her grip around him and bringing him with her again.

When his third orgasm hit him, he threw his head back, game face slipping away in the tumultuous wave of emotions that overtook his entire being. She glowed with her love for him, her eyes tender on him as she watched his pleasure through her own haze. He clutched her to him, burying his face in the soft skin between her breasts, trembling.

“Oh, I love you so, Buffy.”

“I love you, my Spike…my William.” She stopped moving and smiled as he panted unnecessarily to catch his breath. It’s the little things, she thought, and ran her hand across his forehead and down his cheekbone. “You are so beautiful.”

“Not beautiful.”

“Yes. Beautiful. Sexy. Wonderful. Mine.”

She moved off of him, and he flopped back onto the mattress, his limbs paralyzed. She curled up next to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and she closed her eyes, listening to the burr deep in his chest. “You’re purring.”

“Mmm?”

“Purring. Like a cat. When did you start purring?”

“Dunno, pet. Why?”

“I’ve just never heard you purr is all.”

His body rose and fell under her head as he chuckled. She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I like it when you laugh. I love it when you smile. I hope you do more of it.”

He looked down at her tenderly. “Love you, Buffy. Can’t help but be happy to be here, in your arms. It’s a bleeding dream come true. Never thought—“

He stopped himself, and smiled down at her. “You make me smile, kitten. Always a surprise with you. What was that, a minute ago?”

“Practice. And you know what they say. Practice makes perfect.”

“Guess that means we’ll have to practice some more.”

She grinned. “I was hoping you would say that.”