Chapter Three

Somehow Buffy's night was going from bad to worse.

A combination of whisky and the unfairness of life had left her spoiling for a fight, but there was nothing to hit. The bite on her arm was throbbing, the skin around it puffy and purpling, showing the spreading poison and reminding her that life just sucked. Spike was making things unaccountably worse by trying to be nice when she wanted to be mad at him. Would it be completely out of line to hit him again for no reason at all?

She suspected he wouldn't mind, which took most of the fun out of the idea.

Talking had been her first big mistake, should have just jumped him, he'd've cottoned on. Stopped his mouth with a big wet kiss. Used him for her own pleasure as modern women were supposed to, then staked him as a Slayer was supposed to

But no, sober Buffy thought that was icky. Had to dip a toe in, almost looking for an excuse to run away, though she didn't want to die. Then with the crying, already an embarrassing memory. Slayers did not burst into tears when faced with something they didn't like, especially not in the arms of the something. Somewhere along the line she'd asked for sympathy and now he was regarding her with a quiet compassion that made her want to punch him again.

Should he even be able to do that? Wasn't empathy one of these soul-based things?

She'd been wound up and a little freaked out. He'd offered a sympathetic ear, and that thrice cursed alcohol and she'd forgotten what he was for a minute, long enough to cry on his shoulder and give him sniping ammunition for weeks. Now he was standing there half naked and a little worried, making her want to forget again. She really should have said no to the whisky. She wasn't in complete control of her tongue and was terrified if he touched her again she would let more of herself show, and there'd be more humiliating recollections for him to dissect in public the next time she pissed him off.

And much as she hated to think of Spike as a person, there was no part of Buffy that could go to him for help then dust him when he complied.

And was that feeling lust? Just a tiny smidgen?

Being half drunk obviously wasn't enough, she'd have to risk it and finish the job.

"I'msorryIhityoucanIhavesomemorewhiskyplease?" she blurted out in a rush. Wordlessly he handed her a fresh bottle, and watched in silence as she took a swig. Buffy could see he wasn't sure what to do next either, half wanted to giggle at this bizarre parody of the timeless 'come up for coffee' dance, settled for a wry smile.

"That was just foreplay to you, right?"
"Depends on what comes next."

Hesitantly Spike slipped his arm round her waist and Buffy had to let him, cause she still wasn't drunk enough to forget propriety and jump him. But every muscle was tensed, rebelling against his touch.

"I'm not your enemy, not any more. I know you'd rather be anywhere else, but it's got to be better than dying, right? Shut your eyes, pretend I'm John Cusack, whatever. If you can't relax with me, nothing I can do will help." Spike's other hand interlaced with hers as he pulled her closer and whispered "Relax, you might like it."

"If I like it, that's worse."

"Not sure I follow."

Buffy could feel the vampire nuzzling at her hair as he waited patiently for her to explain, and she really didn't want to, but the words 'shut up and fuck me' were also getting stuck in her throat. At least she didn't have to look at him, the feel of his cold hands wrapped around her waist was distraction enough.

"If I like it, how am I supposed to tell you no tomorrow? But if I don't have to tell you no..."

"You're tired of blokes telling you once was enough?" Spike finished softly. Buffy stayed silent but the slight stiffening of her shoulders was answer enough. That was one insecurity that even drunk she wasn't willing to share with him, ever.

"Know why I said that, Slayer? Just to get a rise. Could see you were beating yourself up over that waste of space and I thought you'd be that much easier to kill if I rubbed a little salt in the wound. Flawed plan, as it turned out.

"Angelus was obsessed by you. Thought more about what you made him feel than a century of feeding on rats and making nice with his natural prey. And that fraternity turd was just collecting notches on his bedpost. You could have been Sam Fox and Marilyn Monroe rolled into one and he'd still have been moving on to the next victim. Me, well I think you're a hell of a girl and I can't see that changing."

"I don't care what you think," Buffy answered automatically.

"No?"

One hand firmly on her belly to stop her fleeing, Spike pulled back her hair to kiss her neck. If possible Buffy stiffened still further.

"You bite me and I'll have dusted you before you've even had time to swallow."

She felt Spike sigh into her hair, heard a noise that could have been teeth grinding. "Would you get it through your thick skull? Wanna taste you alright, but not like that. You don't care what I think? Tough titty, I'm going to tell you anyway. I love you, Buffy, and God knows I fancy you. You think far too much. Do it and forget it, we'll never mention it again, I swear.

"I'm not gonna tell all your friends if you make funny noises when you come. Not gonna laugh if you've got inverted nipples or ginger pubes or a birthmark shaped like a penis. And I'm certainly not going to bite you. You don't like me, I get it, can hit me if you wanna but if it makes this easier to kiss me I'll not take it the wrong way, whatever keeps you alive, yeah? I'd do anything you want me to and I'll stop the second you tell me. Not gonna try and take any more than you're willing to give, not gonna do anything you don't want to let me, not gonna try and blackmail you for seconds. And I'm not going to take the piss out of you tomorrow, so whatever's worrying you, let it go. None of this is real. You can go back to kicking me around and I'll not throw this back in your face, I promise. Can always stake me, if I-"

"Stop it!"

Buffy hadn't meant to speak, but it was easier with her back to him, and once she started the words kept pouring out with plaintive confusion. "You're not supposed to be this way! I wouldn't care about any of that stuff if you'd just be an asshole like normal, you're making it all worse. If you fancy me so much, why'd you tell me about Angel? And how can I stake you after... you told me to? You're supposed to be evil. Why are you being so nice to me?"

She could feel Spike shaking against her back, knew he was stifling a laugh and that made her feel yet worse.

"I know this is going to come as quite a surprise, Summers, what with you being so obnoxious and all, but I quite like you. I want to be nice to you. Wouldn't see you come to any harm, if there was any way I could help. I'm still evil, don't you worry about that, just let me be nice to you, just this once."

"No! It's creepy and unsettling."

Another laugh, that he didn't bother to hide. He was wrapped around her like a blanket now and she could feel the rumbling amusement deep in his chest. "No being nice, check. So tell me what you do want, Love. How can I turn you on? Tell me how you like to be touched."

"I can't," said Buffy.

"Sure you can," he murmured, hands sliding over her skin in a way that made her shiver. She flinched slightly as he cupped one breast through her lacy bra but made no move to stop him, couldn't have said for sure if she was still able to move. It wasn't in her nature to be passive, but in all ways it was easier to let him take control and there was something indefinably erotic about keeping so still as he moved against her. "Can tell me anything," he continued softly, "You can trust me. Can't rightly promise I'll forget but I'll not quote back to you when you're sober."

And there was a stupid trap to fall into, trusting the evil vampire. And the strange thing was she did, kind of, right then at least. It was an unnerving sensation, and it didn't help. Neither did his hands, one gently massaging her breast as the other started to unbutton her blouse. Slowly building a need akin to thirst.

"I can't... it's not... I mean..." She stumbled over the words, in perfect illustration of what she was trying to say. "I'm not good with the talking, Spike."

"You don't say?"

Buffy giggled, a noise so rare nowadays it startled Spike, she felt him pull back a little in surprise and it made her laugh harder.

"I must be drunk," she said firmly, more to herself than Spike. "Take me now, before it wears off."

She could feel him straining against her, knew how eager he was to comply and that thought was erotic, too. Even buttoned down he felt bigger than Riley, and maybe she was... curious. Just a little. Buffy wiggled against him in daring experiment and Spike reciprocated with a sharp twist of her nipple as he gasped against the top of her spine.

She may have only just been on the drunken side of tipsy but Buffy was starting to feel light-headed out of all proportion. Spike pulled open her blouse and started working the knot of her wrap around skirt, kissing his way down her scapula as her flimsy top slid down her arms.
She had to be here, right? Couldn't help it that his slow caresses were rushing straight to her tingly places. So Buffy went with the feeling, shut her eyes and let Spike take over as her skirt pooled on the floor.

"You don't know how much I want to," Spike breathed. "Ache to touch you, be inside you." Blouse joined skirt, Buffy barely noticed.

"Can I tell you all the things I want to do to you? Wanna lick you all over and in all the right places till you're a quivering mass of jelly, wet and defenceless, all ready for me to have my wicked way with you."

His fingers toyed with the waistband of her thong with deceptive gentleness, one sharp twist and it was a useless piece of elastic pinging across the crypt.

"Want to make your skin tremble and your nipples hard. Such beautiful skin, pet, smells so good." One hand inside her bra now, holding Buffy up as she melted against him, other hand stroking the inside of her thigh. She heard a moan, couldn't say for sure if she'd made it.
"Can smell you, you know. Your arousal. You'd like to know, wouldn't you, how I'd feel inside you?"

Buffy gasped as he teased her soft curls and unconsciously arched back against him. Spike encouraged the movement, ground his erection against her bum and echoed her moans.

"It's okay, Love. It'll be good. I'll stretch you and fill you up and you'll still want more cause it'll feel so good. Wanna make you come, gorgeous little thing. Want to bury my mouth in your quim and suck so hard you'll still be coming down tomorrow. Want to pound into you, make you scream, till all you can feel is me inside your hot little pussy and you're screaming my name, my sexy little girl. You feel better than I can describe, make me helpless with need, I'd beg you to squeeze me just a little bit harder."

Buffy made an inartuculate choking noise and thrust against his hand as Spike teased with barely-there touches.

"Like that, do you?" His hand pressed harder against her mound. "Like to hear how fucking hot you are? What your sexy little walk does to me? You don't know how badly I've wanted to bend you over that tomb and make you mine, rip off those flimsy little outfits, fuck you raw and you'd love it, my dirty little Slayer."

His words were sending pinpricks of heat straight down her body, then electricity as his finger slid inside her swollen lips straight to her pleasure spot. A dimly remembered part of the Slayer thought maybe this was going too far. She shouldn't be standing here, virtually naked, letting a vampire play tunes on her skin to accompany his litany of filth.

And then she wasn't standing there, moaned for the loss of contact as Spike picked her up and carried her across the crypt. Before she could react he'd laid her on the bed, resuming his attentions to her clitoris and peeling off her bra as he settled between her legs.

He was still murmuring endearments as he dipped his head to her breast but Buffy was starting to lose the sense of his words, blurred into one continuous sexy growl by the blood pounding in her ears. He looked up at her through his lashes as he circled one prominent pink nipple with his tongue and Buffy shivered.

"Want to see you, love, so fucking beautiful, couldn't ever get enough."

She jerked as cold air tickled the wet trail he'd left with his tongue, then again as he gently nipped at her.

"Oh please... can't... Spike!"
The sound of his name froze the vampire for a second, he raised his eyes again to search hers. "Think you can," he growled, "Think you want to."

Spike slid his thumb rhythmically over her clitoris. "Want to come for me, don't you Love?" he whispered against her stomach. "Can I taste you? Talk to me, Buffy, sweetheart." He moved down till his words were tickling her pubic hair. "What do you want? You can talk to me, I won't ever tell."

"Yes!" she gasped "Taste... your tongue. I want..."

"S'okay Love," he murmured, replacing his thumb with his tongue and licking her slowly. "Like that?"

"Oh God!"

"Like that," Spike repeated smugly. "Little more?"

The Slayer thrashed under him as Spike sucked her pink hood slowly into his mouth, mimicking the action with his fingers on her nipple, whimpered as he released her.

"You bastard... you want me to beg..."

"Want to hear you say it, Buffy, please. Tell me you want this."

"Can't... stop teasing... Fuck!" Buffy yelped as he sucked harder. "Yes! Want you... Spike... Wanna come..."

"Your wish is my command."