*Anything, huh?*

Spike studied the Slayer’s expression, searching her desire-darkened eyes, as a slow smile spread across his face. His eyes softened with an awed elation, scarcely able to believe that she was really accepting his offer, as he reached out tentative hands to rest on her hips, gently pulling her in closer to him.

“Anything,” Spike repeated, his voice soft but emphatic, willing her to see his sincerity in his eyes. “I mean it, Buffy. I’m yours. Anything you want me to do or be, love, I’m givin’ myself to you.” He couldn’t resist a little smirk as he added, “Merry Christmas, love.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed slightly with suspicion, her expression growing serious as she pressed forward, her advance causing him to back up against the door again as she leaned in close, deliberately invading his space as she asked in a soft, almost dangerous voice, “Why?”

“You know I love you.” Spike’s answer came without hesitation, though his eyes closed for a moment, and he seemed a little breathless at her nearness, intended to intimidate, but having a much different effect entirely. “Know I’m yours. And…and I can’t soddin’ stand to see you have the kind of Christmas this is shapin’ up to be for you, love. You deserve to have so much more, and…and while I can’t give you all that…I wanna give you what I can, pet…and that’s all of me.”

His voice was low and intense as he looked up at her earnestly, meeting her eyes as he added, “I want to leave no doubt, Buffy…I *love* you. And if it takes total surrender to prove that, well, that’s what you’ll bloody well get, pet. Whatever you want me to do…”

His words broke off with a soft intake of breath as Buffy’s hand rose to tangle in his hair, drawing his head back slightly as she whispered, “Let’s start with ‘shut up’.”

And then, she proceeded to enforce her command by covering his mouth with hers, her tongue a welcomed intrusion between his eagerly parted lips, as she released his hair and ran her hands greedily over his body, trembling fingertips tracing the smooth black leather that bound the hard marble of his chest and back.

Her fingers began to slow, her motions becoming smoother as she explored the smooth planes of his chest and torso, her kiss deepening as she began to realize her power. She pulled him forward slightly, only to push him forcefully back against the door again, and he groaned into her mouth as his head smacked against the wood panel, though the sharp, quick pain of the impact was a small price to pay for her affections, as far as Spike was concerned.

He fully expected to be paying a much greater price before the evening was through.

The Slayer’s fingers traced slowly along the highest strap of the harness, positioned a couple of inches below his nipples, her fingernails scratching lightly just beneath the taut leather, across the highly sensitized skin beneath. As her hand moved to just beneath his nipple, she flicked her thumb upward to graze it, and Spike jerked slightly under her touch, gasping unneeded breath as he drew his mouth away from hers, his head falling back.

“Buffy,” he breathed out as she flicked his nipple a second time, allowing the leather strap to fall against his flesh again with a mildly stinging snap. “Buffy, love…”

“Shut up,” the Slayer hissed against his lips, jerking his head back again before trailing her mouth slowly down his throat toward his shoulder, alternating kisses and teasing bites that were just a bit harder than was comfortable. “And *don’t* call me that!”

Of course, comfort was the farthest thing from Spike’s mind at the moment.

“All right,” he gasped as her hands traveled lower on his torso, creeping toward his tightly bound abdomen. “Whatever…whatever you want, Buffy…”

“Spike,” Buffy whispered seductively into his ear as her hand slipped down to cup the bulge in the front of his tight leather shorts. “I want you…”

He drew in his breath sharply, his head falling back against the door, his eyes closed. Abruptly her grip tightened and she jerked him forward slightly by her hand on his covered erection, and Spike bit back a startled moan of mingled pleasure and pain as she bit off the rest of her words in a sharp hiss.

“…to *shut*…*up*.”

She smiled as he stifled the cry that rose to his lips, leaning in closer to ask in a hushed, almost gentle voice, “Can you do that? Can you keep your mouth shut for two seconds?”

Spike nodded hurriedly, eagerly, his hips automatically thrusting forward into her touch.

“Good,” Buffy replied in a soothing voice, her smile widening with pleasure at her control as her fingers pressed into the smooth leather, slowly circling the covered head of Spike’s straining member, while the vampire’s hands clutched at her hips, trying to draw her closer, to increase the contact with his aching need.

“Uh-uh-uh,” she reproved him teasingly, her hands closing around his wrists and pushing them back against the doorframe, holding them there as she held her body back, just out of contact with his. “No touching…not unless I say so. Okay?”

She inwardly winced at the uncertainty revealed by the last word, wishing she had not added it. She was still not all that confident about this “taking what she wanted” thing, after all – but it certainly wouldn’t do to let Spike see that.

Of course, judging by the affectionate amusement in his sparkling blue eyes, it was a bit late for that. Still, he did nothing to deliberately betray his knowledge; he just nodded obediently, looking expectantly into her eyes, awaiting her next command.

“Hmmm,” Buffy mused, her smile widening as she stepped back a little further to survey her “present”, and felt a stirring deep within her at the openness, the vulnerability in Spike’s expression and demeanor – not to mention the overall deliciousness of the outfit he was wearing. “I could *really* get used to this.”

Spike suppressed a soft laugh, raising one eyebrow, and Buffy knew that there was plenty he wanted to say; but to his credit, he kept quiet, continuing to obey her command to do so.

Of course, Spike could say more with his eyes than Buffy could ever seem to manage with her mouth.

*Gives him a little bit of an unfair advantage…*

“So…” Buffy smirked, struggling to keep her voice calm, and cover for her fears and uncertainties. “Now that I’ve got you where I want you…what to do with you? Hmm. Anything I want, huh?” Her eyes suddenly widened with delight as an idea occurred to her, one that had as much to do with her weary back and feet as with the rising desire she felt for her forbidden vampire lover.

Spike nodded, his expression growing serious once more as he saw that she had come up with something to ask of him.

Buffy gave him a shy little half-smile that was almost apologetic as she released him, lowering her eyes self-consciously for a moment before raising them again to ask, “How are you with…massage?”

Spike did not even attempt to respond with words, but his smile became a smug smirk as he reached out and gently took her hand, moving away from the door to lead her toward the bed. Buffy could not remember the last time she had had a decent massage, and she felt a sense of delicious anticipation spreading through her as she reached the bed.

Her eyes went wide when they fell on the nightstand, and a black tray she had not noticed before. It was not the tray itself, but the numerous tempting items laid out on the tray that caught her attention, causing her cheeks to flush with embarrassment, and her sex to flood with arousal at the thought of all the deliciously forbidden things she could do with Spike -- *to* Spike – with those things.

“You brought me sex toys?” she asked incredulously. “Spike…okay, you can talk now. You brought me *sex toys*?”

Spike shrugged in a self-deprecating way as Buffy went to the tray, almost in spite of herself, and started picking up the items on it, examining them with a sort of idle fascination.

“Your Christmas present comes with accessories,” he remarked with just a trace of a smirk.

Buffy smiled in spite of her embarrassment, shaking her head at him as she picked up the various items one by one – a leather gag, a cock ring, several paddles and clamps, and other items which she couldn’t even identify – before turning back to face him.

“We’ll get to all that. First…my massage.”

Spike nodded with a thoughtful smile. “Right, then. Get undressed, love.”

Buffy sauntered toward him, feeling more confident with every moment that passed, allowing her to become more accustomed to the idea of the power Spike had given her over him. But she knew that he would only be willing to let her take it so far without changing his mind, taking back the gift he had offered her.

After all, that sort of selflessness required the ability to love, and that was something Spike lacked, whether he knew it or not.

By the end of the evening, however, Buffy was determined that she would convince him that he was not as willing as he thought to give her all that she needed.

In the meantime…she was going to have a little fun.

“Uh-huh,” she replied flatly, abruptly gripping the collar around Spike’s throat and yanking him forcefully closer to where she stood near the head of the bed. “You first,” she declared as she pushed him back onto the bed, his knees hanging over the side.

She grabbed his wrists and fastened them together around the top right bedpost, before gripping his collar and holding him down with one hand, and reaching for the zipper of his leather shorts with the other.

“Buffy,” Spike began uncertainly, unable to see what she was doing from the position she held him in.

“Shh,” Buffy warned him as she freed his swollen erection from the confines of the tight leather garment and grasped it boldly in her hand. “Mine, right?”

“Right,” Spike gasped as she ran her hand slowly up and down his sensitive flesh. “R-right…gaahh, bloody…*Buffy*…”

Now *this* was familiar territory.

After the recent months of impossibly blissful wrongness she had spent secretly sleeping with Spike, Buffy had come to know his body almost as well as she knew her own. She knew all the ways and places to touch him that would make him yield to her will, knew just how to bring about exactly the response she wanted from him…which, at the moment, was helpless, desperate babbling under the power of the pleasure and desire she was building in him.

“Bloody hell! Buffy…please, love…ughhh…*Buffy*…”

She waited until she had built him up to a fevered pitch, desperate for release and seconds away from it, before she suddenly stopped, withdrawing her hand even as his body arched up toward it in a fevered attempt to maintain contact.

“Buffy…please…” he gasped out, straining against his bonds. “Don’t stop.”

“Okay.” Buffy smirked down at him, enjoying the sight as he writhed helplessly on the bed. “That’s enough talking for now.” As she spoke she took the leather gag from the tray and pressed the mouthpiece between his parted, trembling lips, fastening the straps tightly behind his head.

Spike let out a pitiful, pleading moan as Buffy picked up the cock ring next, and fastened it around the base of his throbbing manhood, mercilessly tight. Impossibly pleased with herself, Buffy pressed downward as she pulled the shorts back up again, zipping them closed again with a jerk that drew a yelp of startled fear and surprise from the bound vampire.

“Okay,” Buffy declared, sounding quite pleased with herself. “*Now* I’m ready for my massage. Just…give me a minute.”

She slowly removed her clothes, making sure Spike had a good view as she did, waiting until she was completely naked to lean over him, taking her time as she unfastened the leather cuffs from around the bedpost.

“Now,” she said, lingering over him, her firm, bare breasts hovering temptingly over his face for a few moments longer than necessary as she gripped his wrists and held him down against the mattress, “don’t worry, Spikey. We’ll take care of your little problem…eventually. But if all this is for me…all about what *I* want and need…then you won’t mind waiting, will you?”

Spike swallowed hard, panting through his nose with frustrated desire and need, but finally he shook his head, accepting her words.

Buffy was surprised, but also relieved.

It would have been a shame for this pleasant little game to end so soon.

“You’re gonna get me all nice and relaxy,” she went on as she took his hands and pulled him up to as sitting position while she stood up straight again. “And take your time about it; I like nice *long* massages. And if you do a really good job…we’ll see about getting *you* a little more relaxy, ‘kay?”

Spike nodded with a shaky sigh at the thought of waiting that long for the release he was so desperate for, but accepting of the fact that he would have to wait. He had known when he had decided to do this that she would not make it easy on him.

He was the one who had gotten himself into this, after all.

Buffy took Spike’s hand and led him to stand up, before sitting on the edge of the bed herself, preparing to lie down. Almost as an afterthought, she suddenly jerked him closer to her by the hand, her other hand reaching down to grasp him again through his shorts.

“Oh, and Spikey?” she added calmly as he left out a muffled yelp through the gag. “If you try and touch yourself…think I won’t notice? I will. And if you do…” She pulled him closer to her with both hands, a slightly dangerous gleam in her eyes as her voice softened, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “…I’ll tie you to the bed…and I’ll keep you like this for *days*, Spike. Would you like that?”

Spike shook his head emphatically, his eyes wide with alarm at the suggestion.

“I might…but good call.” Buffy smirked with a shrug, releasing him, as she lay down slowly on the bed on her stomach, her arms at her sides, and prepared for her much-needed massage.