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I Know You II by slaymesoftly
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Chapter Eighteen

“You know you can’t get there without me,” Spike grumbled as various other male admirers waved to Buffy while walking to their cars.

“Why can’t I?”

“You can’t drive,” he said triumphantly. “And it’s too far to walk in those shoes”

“Speaking of these shoes...” she mumbled, stumbling a little.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

“I’m not used to wearing heels, and I’ve been dancing all night. Even Slayer feet have their limits and I think mine just reached them.” She groaned and stopped to rub one foot, holding on to his arm as she did so. He frowned, then gave a shrug and with a “no problem, Slayer”, he scooped her up and began to stride down the street with her in his arms.

After her initial “oh!” of surprise, Buffy smiled and put her arms around his neck, enjoying the way he carried her so effortlessly. She buried her face in the soft leather of his coat and inhaled the scents that had become so familiar to her. Mingled with the old leather was the smell of tobacco, a trace of whiskey and a unique earthy scent that she associated only with Spike.

They reached the car more quickly than either one of them would have preferred, and he stood beside the door irresolutely before finally setting her on her feet, holding on until he was sure that she was balanced before letting go and opening the door for her.

The ride home seemed to take no time at all, and they were soon walking up to the front door, Spike’s hand under Buffy’s elbow to steady her on her now aching feet. The minute the door was open, she kicked her shoes down the hallway towards her bedroom and sighed with relief. Spike closed and locked the door, shrugging off his own coat before turning Buffy around to take hers. He dropped both coats on a chair and then just stood looking at her as she stared back at him expectantly. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up again and carry her into her bedroom. Unsure of his own self-control, he remained where he was, waiting for her to say something.

“What is it, pet?” he finally asked when she just stood there in her stocking feet, staring at him.

“I...nothing, I guess. I just thought...maybe...never mind.” Her shoulders slumped and she began to turn to go to her room.

“Buffy? I thought you had a good time tonight. What’s wrong, love?”

“I did have a good time; didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did, ‘s matter of fact. But that wasn’t the point of it, was it? We got you out for evening, you met some people – maybe acquired some mates your own age – danced till your toes were sore...what’s missing?”

She stared at him, her lower lip creeping out in the barest beginning of a pout.

“Don’t you know what’s missing? Don’t you know how a date is supposed to end?”

He shook his head slowly, wondering if he knew what she was talking about, but afraid to find out that he was wrong.

“Vampires don’t do a lot of ‘dating’, Slayer. You want to give me a hint here?”

“No. If you wanted to do it, you’d just do it. I’m not going to beg for a good-night kiss. If you didn’t have a good time and don’t want to ki—“

Note to self: vampires can move very, very fast.

Spike hadn’t bothered to answer her words, he had just appeared in front of her and fastened his mouth on hers before she could finish complaining. Buffy’s initial surprised gasp as his surprisingly soft and mobile lips began to move around on hers, opened her mouth just enough to allow him to touch his tongue gently to her lips and trace around them lightly before reluctantly ending the kiss and stepping back just far enough that he wasn’t touching her.

She gazed at him with wide eyes, one hand touching her lips where his tongue had brushed them so lightly. “Oh,” she said softly.

“Don’t ever think I don’t want to kiss you, Slayer,” he growled. “But don’t be askin’ me for it if you don’t really want it.”

“I...I do want it...a kiss, I mean.” She blushed as she realized how “I want it” might sound to the vampire.

He surprised her by laughing and pulling her gently into his arms, dipping his head and murmuring against her mouth, “I know that’s what you meant, love. I might be hopeful, but I’m not delusional.”

As he stopped speaking, he began another kiss that soon had her heart rate going up and her knees weakening. With a strong arm holding her to him, Spike continued the kiss until she parted her lips enough for him to slip his tongue in again. He probed lightly until her tongue timidly met his and they gave matching sighs. Spike tightened his arms, holding her against his body and groaning when he felt her melt into him. He deepened the kiss, forgetting now that this wasn’t the Buffy he was used to, and demanding more from her. With growing enthusiasm, Buffy met his demands with her own, running her tongue around his teeth and probing the recesses where his fangs were just barely contained. She felt him shudder and enjoyed a sudden burst of feminine pride at the thought that she could have such an affect on the man who made her heart race just by touching her cheek.

She was enjoying the kissing and the hard body pressing against hers so much that she didn’t even notice the object persistently nudging her hip or the way his hands were roaming her body until he slid one hand under her skirt and ran it up her thigh. With a little squeal, she pulled away, staring at him with horrified eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Spike stared back at her with amber-tinged eyes, panting heavily for unneeded breath. While he struggled to bring himself under control, he watched her expression change from shock to embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.”

They spoke at the same time, then laughed softly at themselves. Buffy tried again.

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I’m not that dumb – not really. I just...you just...I wasn’t expecting...” She lost her ability to articulate as she contemplated how completely into the kissing she had been and how wantonly she had been pressing against his body.

“No, pet. I’m sorry. I’ve been wantin’ to do that for so long that I let my dick get ahead of my brain. All you wanted was a good-night kiss, you didn’t ask for—“

“I asked you to kiss me – and I meant it. But I don’t ...I can’t...” She blushed again as she tried to say that she hadn’t meant to allow her body to promise more than she was willing to give.

“’s alright, love. Know you didn’t mean for it to go that far. I know your body was writin’ checks you’re not willing to cash.“ He ran his hand lightly down her cheek. “Jus’ couldn’t help myself, is all. Havin’ you so close...” He shook himself slightly and turned to go into the living room.

“Does that mean we can’t kiss any more?” Buffy’s voice was soft and unsure. “’cause I really, really liked it, and—”

Once again, he moved faster than she could speak, picking her up and striding to the couch where he sat down with Buffy draped across his lap. Her skirt had slid up her thighs, exposing the lacy elastic that was holding up her nylons. She primly pulled the hem of her dress down as far as she could make it go and snuggled into his chest, holding her face up to his.

“More kisses?”

With a happy chuckle, he dipped his head and began to kiss her again, taking care to keep his hands still where they rested on her arm and thigh. In very little time, she was breathing heavily and whimpering in her throat as his talented lips and tongue aroused desires long suppressed under her allegiance to Angel. Buffy began squirming on his lap, not sure of what she was trying to do, but only too aware that her body wanted more. This time, when Spike began to stroke her thigh, she didn’t object; she just stopped moving around and tried to concentrate on the kisses that were continuing to fuel the throbbing between her legs.

When his hand slid higher and his fingertips brushed lightly against her underwear, she whimpered again as she involuntarily arched into his hand. By the time his fingers had slipped beneath the elastic of her panties to begin spreading the moisture that had soaked them through, she was close to fainting from the sensations he was creating. Tearing his lips away from hers briefly, he pulled her earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it and whispering, “Let me make you come, love. Won’t ask you for anything you don’t want to give – jus’ let me show you how good I can make it for you.”

Too wrapped up in the wonderful shivers he was causing just by stroking her folds gently, she could only nod shyly and bury her face in his neck. As soon as he felt her timid nod, his hand became bolder, dipping one finger and then two into her and pumping them gently. He soon had his fingers far enough inside that he could curl them up to tickle a spot that had her hips jumping off his lap to the accompaniment of inarticulate moaning. While his talented fingers continued to move in and out, reaching for the same spot each time, his thumb began to rub her clit with steadily increasing pressure. In a very short period of time, she had uttered a muffled shriek and convulsed around his hand as he encouraged her verbally to “Come for me, love...there’s a good girl...ah, that’s the way, sweetheart...you feel so good...”

As she gradually recovered her senses enough to pay attention to what he was doing, she realized that the hand he had used to bring her so much pleasure was now gently stroking the outside of her thigh in a surprisingly soothing manner. Buffy kept her flaming face hidden in his chest until she felt it vibrating under her cheek. Surprise outweighing embarrassment, she jerking it upward to ask, “Are you purring?”

“Prob’ly,” he replied, brushing his lips softly across hers.

“But you didn’t...I...it was.....Why are you purring? You didn’t get anything from...from that.”

“Oh, Buffy, love. I got to touch you, got to taste you—” He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, grinning when she made a face. “Got to watch you get off...and to know it was because of me. Could listen to you makin’ those little sounds all night long and never get tired of it. Trust me, love, I got just as much out of that as you did.”

The idea that a man could enjoy giving a woman pleasure was so counter to what she knew of high school boys and their expectations from their girlfriends that she had trouble believing him. Only the purring that she could still feel rumbling through his body worked to convince her that he was telling the truth.

“But don’t you want...I should...”

“You shouldn’t do anything that you don’t want to do, love. I did what I wanted to do, and you let me do it -- You don’t owe me anything.”

“You don’t want me to...to touch you?” she asked, blushing furiously.

“Want it? Bloody hell, yes! Need it or think you owe it to me for letting me pleasure you? No.”

“What if...what if I want to?” she said very softly. “Would you let me?

He studied her determined face for a minute, then said just as softly, “I’d let you do anything you wanted to me, pet. I jus’ don’t want you thinkin’ it’s some kind of obligation.”

Buffy sat up straighter, smiling at his muffled groan when she slid her ass across the bulge straining against his pants. She moved off to the side and put a tentative hand on the bulge, smiling when his hips jerked up to press it against her palm. She stroked him with growing confidence, then squeezed him several times before stopping to study his face intently.

“What are you doing, pet?” he managed to say through his clenched teeth.

“I’m trying to decide what feels better to you – when I do this...” She stroked him again. “Or when I do this.” She squeezed him a few times and cocked her head curiously. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re killin’ me, here,” he growled, even as he slid down a little farther on the couch and canted his hips forward into her hand. She bit her lip, then with a small smile, she grabbed his zipper with one hand and pulled it down while the other hand popped the button at his waist. Free of the confinement of his pants, his cock burst out, causing her to give a tiny “oh!” of surprise.

Once again she began to stroke him, this time responding to the words falling from his mouth as he murmured, “Oh, like that, love. Right there, Do it harder, pet, harder than that...oh, bloody hell, yes, love...yes...pull and squeeze...ah, I’m going to...Buffy!”

He grabbed her hand and pulled it away, tugging his sweater down to catch the milky fluid spurting from his cock. He flashed back to the hand job the other Buffy had given him when he first met her and a smile of contentment crossed his face.

“Ah, that was lovely, Buffy. Made me feel like a new man, it did.”

She beamed with satisfaction, then blushed again and lowered her eyes.

“So,” she spoke with studied casualness as she stared at her own hand, which was toying with the sleeve of his sweater. “Do you think we could do that again some time? Like maybe, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night, tomorrow morning, the day after, the day after that...” He laughed as he pulled her into another kiss. “As often as you want to, love. Say the word and I’m yours.”

“I think we should do it every night,” she said firmly.

“Every night it is,” he agreed. “You can count on it.”

“ ‘kay,then.” She snuggled into his chest again and curled up with her legs across his. “We’ll do it again tomorrow.” Her voice trailed off as she spoke, and he soon realized that she had gone to sleep in his arms, a contented smile curling her lips up lightly.

“Every night, my love,” he whispered into her hair. “Every night.”

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