full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
In Harm's Way by dawnofme
4.5 Missing Smut from Ch.4
<<     >>
a/n: A big thanks to Tanit for the quick beta on this. I got a few comments asking for more of the "details" / Smut that was missing where I "fade to black" towards the end of chapter four. I had written this part, but had cut it out for length. Since there is interest, I bring you the deleted scene. (and you didn't even have to buy the DVD!) I've included a few paragraphs before and after the deleted scene from the previous chapter, just to give reference as to where this scene goes.

4.5 Missing Scene:

After they were completely undressed, she crossed her arms over her chest and shivered-asking timidly if they could go under the covers. Spike marveled at how fast she could go from hot, tempting vixen to shy innocent girl and back. Both sides of the coin drove him mad with desire and he hurried to get them under the sheets.

As she writhed beneath his talented fingers, a thought occurred to him. "Are you a screamer?"

Buffy stop moving and looked at him. "A what?"

"You know, when you… Do you scream?"

"I…a…I don't know."

Making an educated guess, Spike concluded that her previous inept lovers had not gotten her off. He grinned. Maybe she wasn't going to live much longer, but he was going to give her something to remember and take with her to the grave.

"I guess we're gonna find out together then, pet."

He slipped on top of her and nudged her thighs apart with a knee. She was most definitely ready for him, so he wasted no more time, plunging into her with one firm push.

==Deleted scene==(unbeta'd)

Her barely audible gasp caused something to stir inside of him. Buried inside her, he kept still. He hadn't felt this excited in a very long time. He just needed a second to get control. Buffy was having none of it. She slapped his backside and rotated her hips. Control was not in the cards for him. Roughly grabbing her hips, he adjusted her, so she was at a better angle. He withdrew completely and slammed back into her. Her little grunt spurred him on and he slammed into her over and over. He could tell by the muffled noises she was making that she was holding back.

"Let go, Buffy. Shout it out. I wanna hear you."

"Faster," she demanded.

He doubled his efforts. Her moans got louder and louder. The headboard banged up against the dirt wall with a dull thud. He loved how she responded to him. Her hands were everywhere. She moved beneath him, keeping up with his pace; her power emanated throughout her body, reaching out to him.

Buffy's eyes were closed. He'd never seen anything more beautiful that the slayer in the midst of pleasure. When he slowed his movements, her eyes fluttered open and he could see into her soul. Lines of poetry formed on his lips. To keep from sounding like a ponce, he leaned in and kissed her.

She urged him to move with her hips, as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her with a vice-like grip. Slowly, he pumped in and out of her as their tongues danced. She whined into his mouth as her walls tightened around him and he knew she was close. He varied the angle and gradually quickened his pace. She broke off the kiss so she could breathe and he gave attention to a perky nipple. She went into a frenzied bit of bucking and moaning as he licked, sucked and nibbled on one and then the other.

"Oh…Spike!" she cried out, her whole body tensing up.

He closed his eyes and pushed into her with all the effort he could. She did have a vice-like grip that proved that every muscle on the Slayer was extra strong. The thought and the feel of how strong she was drove him into a frenzy. He lifted her legs so she could wrap them around his neck. Then he lifted her hips off the bed and plowed into her.

He echoed her scream and whispered, "Buffy," right before letting her legs down and collapsing on her.

Automatically, he attempted to pull apart from her, doing as he'd been trained by Drusilla.

"Stay," Buffy whispered. "Please."

He relaxed in her arms and really didn't know what to do with himself. Not only was she the enemy, but she was treating him better that anyone had. If this was what it was liked to be loved… He closed his eyes, and shut out the creeping bit of despair that tried to overtake him. Drusilla would often touch his arm or place a loving hand on his cheek, but in the bedroom, she liked pain.

He attempted to move to Buffy's side, but she kept him on top of her. "Don't leave me yet." Then she kissed him on the forehead.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Spike asked, "So. What do you think? Am I all talk?"

When Buffy giggled, he grimaced as her walls tightened painfully around him. Staying on top of her, he slowly pulled out.

"That was…amazing." She blushed, but said quietly, "Can we do that again?"

"I'm not through with you, yet. You haven't screamed nearly enough." Spike moved down her body, kissing and nibbling as he went.

"Where are you going?"

"I need about five minutes, but we can get you going right now."

He'd never heard the Slayer squeal in delight before, so he jumped when she let one out as his tongue touched her clit.

"That's--Oh, my, God. Too sensitive. I don't think--"

"What? The Slayer can't handled a little tongue action? I know you can," he drawled suggestively before he flicked her again.

He held her hips still, but she arched her back and squealed again. He expertly drew out the experience for her, bringing her to the edge and pulling her back again, many times, before he applied just the right amount of pressure. She bucked wildly and screamed out.

Before she had a chance to relax her body, he lifted her up and flipped her over. "Hold on to the headboard."

Spike took a moment to admire her shapely arse, gently caressing each cheek. Then, he slapped one side, leaving a nice pink splotch. She didn't protest, so he slapped the other. Then he blew on each mark before moving his fingers over them with a feather light touch.

"Oh, wow. What are you doing to me, Spike?" she asked in wonder.

He spread her cheeks and watched in tantalizing fascination as he slowly pushed his way into her again. He leaned over her back, nipped her ear, then said, "I'm giving it to you good, Buffy. That's what."

"Ghaaa," she moaned.

"Oh. The Slayer likes a bit of dirty talk, does she?"

He talked dirty to her, telling her all the things he was going to do to her, using every foul word he could think of. She got slicker with each new thing he said and moved back on him faster and faster. Buffy came first and he followed soon after.

They collapsed on the bed together, and she curled up next to him, trapping his arm around her neck. He absently ran his fingers through her hair. "I like that," she told him in a sleepy voice.

He continued to stroke her hair and watched the lone candle that he'd lit earlier, fizzle out. The last bit of light was gone, but the flame from the candle was still burned as an impression in his eyes. He still saw the light.

Closing his eyes, he rested, thinking that she'd fallen asleep. But soon, he felt her fingers slowly moving over his chest. It felt so good to be touched with a loving hand. Spike kept his eyes closed, hoping that she'd think he was asleep and continue with what she was doing.

She did.

Pulling the sheets back, she ran her hands down his stomach and touched his thighs. She lightly caressed his growing erection, then ran her hands back up to his chest. "Could you love me, Spike?"

He kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to answer her question. He knew what he should do. Shove her out of bed, tell her to get dressed, and kick her out. Let her feel used and rejected. He was evil; she was the enemy. But he couldn't do it.

"Love me." Her hands roamed over his stomach again. She didn't beg. Buffy didn't sound desperate or sad. She just simply said, "Love me."

A soft, low noise escaped his lips as he pulled her on top of him. Placing his hand at the back of her neck, Spike brought her closer for a kiss. Soft, gentle and in complete contrast to what they'd done to each other the last hour. Feeling like he could kiss her forever, he also felt a pang of sadness when she moved to lay beside him. She kissed him again. They clung to each other, caressing one another.

He felt wonderfully drunk, yet he hadn't had a drop in hours.

She was soft, warm, and inviting. Rolling on top of her, he used a knee to spread her legs. Then, he entered her. They slowly rocked to their own rhythm. The only noise in the room coming from the sound their bodies made as they came together and went apart, and her labored breathing.

Buffy came first. It wasn't a mind boggling orgasm. If he hadn't felt her tighten around him, Spike wouldn't have even known. A tear escaped from her eye and as it dropped to the pillow, he found his own release. And like her, he let the pleasure quietly wash over him before he stilled on top of her.

With heavy lidded eyes, she pulled her head up and kissed the side of his mouth. In a barely audible whisper, she told him, "I love you, Spike."

Her eyes fully closed before her head hit the pillow again. Buffy's even breathing lulled him into his own slumber as he rolled off her and stretched out beside her.

==Deleted Scene==End
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

A couple of hours later, Spike stared at the dirt ceiling above him and sighed. He knew that if it weren't for the Gem of Amara, he'd feel as spent as the burnt out candle that went dark a long time ago. He looked over at Buffy's sleeping form and shook his head in wonder.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the Chosen One, was lying fast asleep in the lair of the Slayer of Slayers. It didn't get any stranger than this. Least now they knew for a fact that she was a screamer. His grin faded as he thought about the fact that she was a study in contradictions, because she was a whisperer, too.

The last time, right before she'd fallen asleep, she'd clutched him tightly and whispered in his ear the one thing that he'd never heard from Drusilla in all their years together. She'd simply whispered, "I love you, Spike."

For her it's just a bloody spell, he thought. Spike looked over at her and swallowed at the lump in his throat. What's your excuse, mate?
<<     >>