Chapter Seven

Spike slid his other arm around Buffy and let her turn to face him. Holding her loosely, he asked, “Are you alright?”

She nodded, giving a little sigh. “Yeah, I am, actually,” she said with a note of surprise in her voice. “I guess I’ve been saving that up for awhile.”

“They had it comin’,” he said, pulling her closer.

She put her own arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then rested his cheek on it. Her hair tickled his nose, but he refused to move until she gave some sign that she wanted out of his embrace.

Instead of pulling away, as he’d expected, she raised her head and brushed her lips across his.

“Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“In dreamland, if I remember right. The both of us, I’m ashamed to say.”

“Not exactly what I meant by ‘where?’ – and what do you mean you’re ashamed?”

“Wanted to stay awake and enjoy every second of havin’ you sleeping in my arms,” he admitted, resting his forehead against hers. “Can’t believe I let myself sleep through it.”

“Well, yeah,” she said with a mock pout. “How insulting is that? Shouldn’t you have been all...I don’t know...frustrated and horny? I was plastered against you like some...plastered thing.” Her smile indicated that she was just teasing him, but he chose to answer her seriously.

“We’ve already had this convo, Slayer. I want you – don’t know how you could doubt it, considerin’... But, I’m not some teenaged schoolboy. I can control myself. I don’t just want to shag you, I want to take care of you, to be there for you, go to sleep next to you and wake up with you still there. I want to love you. All of you. Even your tears and the snot you got all over my shirt,” he finished with a smile. “Which I’m taking off right now, if it’s alright with you...”

He stepped away from her and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Buffy nodded, blushing with embarrassment at the sight of the wet, rumpled shirt. She flushed again when he skinned it over his head and threw it in a corner, her eyes drawn to his smooth, bare chest and the taut stomach below it. His jeans were riding low on his hips and she couldn’t stop herself from staring hungrily.

Not noticing her glazed eyes or their focus on his body, Spike opened a drawer and pulled out an identical tee shirt.

“No! No, don’t...don’t put it on,” she whispered, blushing but meeting his eyes firmly.

“No? And why would that be, pet?” His voice was suddenly pure silk as he picked up on her accelerated heart beat and increased body temperature. He glided towards her, shirt dangling from one hand and eyes never leaving hers. “If I’m gonna walk you home, I’ll need to be dressed, won’t I?”

“I...I wasn’t planning on going home...” She gulped, swallowing hard as that muscular chest presented itself right in front of her.

“Gonna stay then, are you?” He struggled to keep his voice low and sexy, shoving away the hope and excitement and waiting for her to tell him what she meant.

“If you want me to,” she responded, dropping her suddenly shy eyes and ducking her head.

“If I want you to? You can’t seriously be wondering about that.” He dropped his seductive voice, unable to contain his disbelief in her ability to be oblivious. He tipped her chin up and placed a lingering kiss on her mouth, holding it until her hands were skating up the planes of his chest, leaving warm trails behind, even as they made him shiver.

Buffy couldn’t seem to stop her hands as they traveled over his bare torso. She ran them down his sides, running her knuckles lightly across the skin just above the waistband of his jeans before bringing them up to his shoulders. Tearing her mouth away from his, she ran her lips down his neck and chest, stopping to lick an erect nipple. She was rewarded with a heartfelt groan of suppressed desire, and she smiled around the nipple.

“Playing with fire here again, Slayer,” he growled, running his own hands under her shirt. With her bra still lying on the bed where he’d dropped it when she came in, there was no barrier between his fingers and the smooth skin of her breasts. He pushed her sweater up until she had to break away from her gentle assault on his torso so that he could pull it off over her head.

Before she could go back to her exploration of his upper body, he had dropped his head and fastened his own mouth around one nipple, while kneading her other breast with one hand. He wrapped the other arm around her and lifted her far enough off the floor that he could walk clumsily to the bed and fall back onto the mattress with her.

Desperate for more contact, but afraid to overstep whatever Buffy had decided their new bounds were, all Spike could do was continue to kiss her and let her feel what she was doing to him as she writhed against his body. “Oh, god, Buffy...” he moaned when she ground her pelvis against his. “Need you...want you so much...”

When her hand crept down to his waist and popped the top button on his jeans, he had to bite off his joyful “yes!” before it could escape. The sound of his zipper seemed to echo in the cavernous room, followed quickly by his whimper as she freed him into her hand. His immediate happiness rapidly gave way to dismay when her steady pumping had him exerting every ounce of self control that he’d learned in his over one hundred years as a vampire. He grabbed her hand tightly, pulling it away from his suddenly bereft cock .

“What’s wrong?” Her surprised response to the unexpected interruption, and the uncertainty in her eyes had him babbling in reassurance.

“Nothin’s wrong, love. A bit too alright, is all. If you keep that up much longer, I won’t...I can’t...Bloody hell, Buffy! I’m trying to preserve some dignity. Don’t want to go spurting off in your hand like a teenager being touched for the first time.”

She giggled, trying to grab him again while he did his best to fend her off.

“I am touching you for the first time,” she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Where’s that vampire stamina and control I’ve heard so much about, huh?”

With a growl, he flipped them over so that she was underneath him, his unconfined cock free to slide between her thighs, effectively wiping the grin off her face as it bumped against the damp crotch of her jeans. She ground against him, small whimpers emanating from her throat as he buried his face in her neck and sucked on the pulse there.

“I’ll show you stamina, you little tease,” he muttered. “We’ll just see who has the control...”

Paying no attention to his challenge, Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and held him in place while she rubbed herself against his cock. Her breath came faster and faster as she felt sensation building up until she gasped and clutched him in a grip that would have injured a human man.

While she recovered from her first Spike-induced orgasm, his hands were busy unzipping her jeans and pushing them down her legs as far as he could get them. She shoved him off, causing a brief expression of panic to cross his face, before he realized what she was doing. As she sat up to kick her pants the rest of the way off, he leapt from the bed and dropped his own jeans on the floor, hopping back in before she could change her mind.

This time, when her hand reached for him, he lay back and allowed her to stroke his already hard cock until the precum was covering the head. She found that his panting groans and encouraging whispers were almost as arousing as the sight of his perfect body tensing and flexing beside her. When she couldn’t wait any longer, she threw her leg over him and held herself above the smooth, pale column pointing at her so eagerly. Keeping eye contact with his awestruck face, she slowly lowered herself onto him, working her way inch by inch until his eyes rolled back in his head and he cried her name.

Filled in a way that she had never been before, she stilled, lost in the sensation and afraid to move and break the spell. Spike, however, had no such worry – his every wish having been fulfilled the instant she sank down onto him, and he began to move his hips slowly. His hands went to her hips, holding her in place as he raised and lowered himself under her.

Buffy’s little “oh, oh, oh” as she began to ride him in earnest, soon had them moving faster and faster. Her “oh”s became louder, turning into cries of surprise and pleasure, while his own mouth poured out a stream of encouragement and gratitude. Reaching between them, he pinched her clit, sending her spiraling into another unexpected orgasm that left her collapsed on his chest.

He quickly rolled them over, his hips still churning as he kissed her slack lips and urged her to come again. As the steady motion began to create new urgency, she began to move with renewed enthusiasm, once again wrapping her arms and legs around him and clinging tightly as they rode out their mutual release. His whispered, “I love you,” was soft enough that Buffy felt she could pretend she hadn’t heard it as he collapsed against her.

After several minutes of recovery time, she was breathing almost normally, and Spike had stopped panting with her and was back to his normal habit of breathing when he needed air to speak. He raised himself on his elbows and stared down at her flushed face.

“Wow,” she said, blushing lightly.

“I’ll see your ‘wow’ and raise you a ‘bloody hell’,” he said with a smile. He leaned down and kissed her with an aching sweetness that almost brought tears to her eyes; then he rolled off, pulling her with him so that she was snuggled into his side.

“Are you warm enough, love?” he asked, stroking her arm. Without waiting for an answer, he reached down and pulled the quilt up to cover them.

“Thank you,” she said, nuzzling his chest and smothering a yawn. “It is a little chilly in here – now that we’re not all...”

“Give us a sec, and I’ll warm you right back up,” he said with an exaggerated leer.

“Bragger,” she responded, yawning again. “I’m still sleepy.”

“Then go back to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not,” she mumbled, already closing her eyes.

He wrapped both arms around her warm body and closed his own eyes, praying that he would not wake up to find that he had dreamed the events of the past few hours. As he drifted off to sleep with Buffy curled into his side, he whispered, “Not a bloody chance of it.”

The end