“New meat, eh?” a bleach blonde said with a smirk, an unlit cigarette perched between his lips.

Angel sighed. “Spike, will you please stop trying to scare away your new coworkers?”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably, instantly feeling revolted by the pale man in front of her. “I’m not any kind of meat,” she said irritably.

He snorted. “Aren’t we all? Besides, what reason did you come here for but to be objectified, eh?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Well you can’t with my cock in your mouth, can you?” He sneered.

Buffy whirled around to face Angel, an incredulous look on her face. “Am I working with him? Please tell me I’m not working with him.”

The dark haired man sighed. “Sorry, Buff.”

She darted into the designated dressing room, tears clouding her vision.

Angel shot Spike an annoyed look. “Do you always have to do that?”

He shrugged, lighting his cigarette. “Girls gotta know what they’re in here for. Besides, I don’t abuse them in front of the camera... much.” He shrugged again. “That’s all that matters, innit?”

“Do you remember the last girl?” he asked, exasperated. “She wasn’t even wet enough to take your dick in, she was so repulsed by you. So quit the shit or you’re out.”

He walked away from him, taking a drag of his cigarette.

Angel crossed his arms to his chest. “And apologize to Buffy right now!”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, dad.”

Inside the dressing room, Buffy sniffled, wiping away her tears and thinking how ironical it was to have a designated dressing room at a pornography shoot.

This hadn’t been her first choice. In fact, it had been the last one. After a year of fighting the fryer and the oil it splattered at her at The Doublemeat Palace, she just couldn’t take it anymore. And it had hardly paid any of her bills. Since her mom died, everything that had to do with finances just became too overwhelming--so she’d gone to an adult industry agency. When she'd met up with Angel, he didn’t force her to do any sexual acts like a lot of unfortunate girls ended up doing during their first interview, so she thought that it’d be smooth sailing. Because she did like sex, and she wasn’t half bad at acting, and she figured viewers weren’t going to criticize her for the latter anyway. The agency was also being supported by a foundation that allowed her to get free checkups every month, and that was sound enough for her.

Until this Spike guy showed up.

Her eyes teared again. God, it was humiliating enough going to the interview. Now she had to deal with this guy for the rest of her career here?

She was startled by a knock on the door. “Yes?”

Spike poked his head in. “Angel said I have to apologize to you,” he said, observing his fingernails intently. “Sorry.”

And then he was gone.

Buffy huffed.

She put on the wardrobe that was given to her, which...wasn’t all that much. A g-string, booty shorts, a tank top that was hardly a top, and six inch heels that showed her french tipped toes. She put on light makeup and some lip gloss before meeting Angel in the room they’d be shooting at.

Except only Spike was there.

“Angel had to leave,” he muttered.

“What?” she squawked.

“I’ve got some q-tips if you need to clean out your ears. His wife’s in labor,” he deadpanned.

“So what are we going to do?” she demanded, sounding fearful.

He shrugged. “I’ve done gonzo films before. He said to do whatever feels right. I’m pretty experienced with this stuff anyway.”

She bit her lip. “Okay,” she whispered.

He rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry daddy’s not here to hold your hand through this. But I won’t hurt you. Alright?”

She nodded, still worrying her lip between her teeth.

He smirked. “Unless, you know, you want me to...” Christ, she was blushing at a bloody porno shoot. And for reasons unknown to him, he found it kind of adorable. “So since this is your debut, I want you to introduce yourself before we get busy.” He picked up the camera. “Ready to roll?”

She nodded. “O-Okay.”

He nodded toward the couch against the far wall. “Sit.” He turned on the camcorder, smirking at her as he pressed record. “Hello there, cutie.”

Buffy bit her lip. “Hi,” she said shyly.

“An' what's your name, luv?” he purred. He grinned when she blushed, lowering her eyes. “M'a bad, rude man, aren't I? The name's Spike. M'sure we'll be getting real acquainted today.”

“I'm Buffy,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he murmured, his voice low as he took it and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her palm.

She found herself panting, licking her lips.

“You're a pretty li'l thing, aren't you?” Spike hummed, using his loose grip on her hand to tug her closer. He placed the camera on top of the dresser across from the bed.

Buffy shivered, wiggling in his lap. He cupped her face, kissing her softly as he trailed his fingertips along her back. He smiled at her when she giggled.

“You ready to get a little naughty with me?” he asked, tracing her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Is sweet little Buffy ready to do some porn?”

“I-I think so,” she stammered, gripping his biceps nervously.

“Shh,” he said, giving her another kiss. “Relax for me, sweetheart.”

Spike lowered her onto the couch, smirking at her as he undid the button on her booty shorts. In one movement he got them pulled down around her ankles. His pillow soft lips caressed the insides of her thighs, and he took a whiff of her trembling quim before flicking his tongue out to taste her.

Buffy jumped, electrifying tingles dispersing all over her body. She gasped as she felt it in her fingertips, her wet center, the ends of her hair.

Spike gasped himself, his eyes wide as their gazes met. “You...”

She was silent, pursing her lips together.

“Fuck,” Spike groaned, burying his head between her thighs again.

She wriggled and moaned at every swipe of his tongue, which made him groan into her skin. Her breath hitched as he nibbled lightly on her clit, and bursts of color flashed behind her eyelids as he pushed a finger into her slick hole.

“Fuck!” Spike nearly sobbed, catching every drop of her arousal on his tongue like a man starved. He stared at her hard as he yanked her back into his lap and onto his erection. “No one's had you like that before,” he said in amazement, his gaze boring into hers.

Buffy's face reddened, which only deepened when suddenly the intensity of the moment made her come around his dick at first penetration. “Oh!” she cried, shuddering around him. “Oh...”

Spike didn't move, though his hips were heavy and flush against hers as she quaked around him. His eyes were glazed and hooded by the time she realized he had yet to budge.

Her sudden heedfulness seemed to set him off. He flipped her onto her back and curled an arm around her head, moving his hips with a calculated deliberateness that left her shaking beneath him.

“Spike... Spike!” Buffy panted, holding on for dear life.

The person in question growled and kissed her.

“Oh God oh God,” she sobbed as he buried his face in her neck, digging her nails into his shoulders.

He abruptly pulled out, tugging her onto her hands and knees. He gave a loud groan as he sank back inside her from behind, gripping her hips.

Buffy's vision swam. “Spike...” she slurred, suddenly breaking into a cold sweat.

Her costar tensed. “Luv?”

“Dizzy,” she whimpered, falling flat on her face.

“Buffy!” he cried, pulling out and turning her onto her back. He noticed how clammy her skin was, and how her hands shook when she lifted them. He frowned, staring into dull eyes. “Sweetheart, when was the last time you've eaten?” he demanded.

“Um,” Buffy replied sluggishly, “y-yesterday morning?”

Spike growled, pulling her into his arms and taking her into the break room. She sniffled as he put her down in one of the chairs surrounding a metal table. “Oh, luv, don' cry,” he said gently, digging through the contents of the refrigerator. “Here,” he said, handing her an apple. “I don' want your body to get too much of a shock. Try eating that slowly an' then we'll see what else we can feed you.”

He sat down next to her as she nibbled at the last bit of apple, holding out a peeled banana.

“Thank you,” she croaked, tears streaming down her face.

Spike grabbed a glass and filled it with water, placing it down in front of her. “May I ask why you've not eaten in a little over twenty-four hours?”

Buffy looked crestfallen. “I had to choose between paying for another night at the motel and eating.” She swallowed hard, then broke down completely.

“Hush, luv,” Spike murmured, squeezing her shoulder. “Don' waste your energy. Finish that water an' that banana an' then we can find somethin' with more substance.”

She pouted. “I ruined the shoot.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Can always do it again, yeh?”

She blushed, nibbling the banana. He pulled a shirt over her head after she'd finished eating, then helped her into a pair of gym shorts.

“Thought I was just another piece of meat,” Buffy commented when he took a step back.

Spike sighed. “Guess you're feelin' better, then.” When she crossed her arms to her chest, he lowered his eyes and muttered, “Look. I'm a berk, alright?”

She frowned. “A what?”

He waved his hand. “Forget it. You still hungry?”

Her stomach rumbled loudly. Her cheeks turned red.

The bleach blond smirked. “Lemme take you home with me.”

“Wh-What?” Buffy shrieked, feeling dizzy again—for another reason entirely.

His smirk grew wider. “Let's get somethin' in you.”

She ran a hand through her hair, looking flustered. “Are we still talking about food?”

Spike laughed. “Yes, luv.” Before she could respond, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You got anything in your dressing room?”

“My purse,” she replied, biting her lip and staring at their joined hands.

“Let's get that.”

Buffy still felt too weak to argue. Outside, he put her purse in the back compartment of his motorcycle before handing her his helmet and straddling the bike.

“Hold on tight, luv,” he murmured, starting the engine.

She did just that, a permanent blush heating her face. Spike stopped at a red light, releasing one of the grips to gently massage where her hands were clasped in front of him.

They stopped in front of a plain gray apartment complex. Spike parked in a spot in the lot, got her purse from the back, and led her to the single glass door. He unlocked it with a keypad and then they walked up one flight of stairs before arriving in front of his door.

“Bit of a mess,” Spike warned before unlocking it and pushing it open.

They walked into his living room. His coffee table had piles of papers strewn all over it next to a closed laptop. The living room led directly into a kitchenette, where there were candles on the counter with hardened wax pooling on the faux marble.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, placing his helmet on the floor by the fridge before opening up one of the cupboards above the stove.

Buffy dropped onto his black leather couch, feeling her thighs tremble. She sighed, closing her eyes and drawing her knees to her chest. She awoke sometime later to Spike putting a plate of chicken fettuccine in front of her on a now cleared up table along with a glass of water.

“Eat up, luv,” he ushered her gently.

“What about you?” Buffy croaked, rubbing her eye with a closed fist.

“Gettin' my plate now. Don't you fret.”

She watched him go into the kitchen and come back with his own plate and glass. Her plate seemed to empty in the blink of an eye.

He chuckled. “Liked it, did you?”

She blushed. “Uh, think I just inhaled it.”

Spike laughed. “Go on an' get seconds. Or thirds. Don' even care if you finish it.”

Buffy stood to get more pasta and chicken on her plate. This time she savored it, and when she finished put the plate on the coffee table and sank into the couch and sighed happily. She smiled at him, patting her stomach. “Thank you. That was really good.”

“You sure you're done?”

She laughed. “Yes, jeez, mom.”

Spike smiled and took both their plates, washing them in the sink. When he sat down next to her again, Buffy shifted uncomfortably.

“Um, are you sure I didn't ruin the shoot? We didn't miss a deadline or anything?”

“Nah. Angels Agency is as informal as they come. Jus' call it Angel's weird...uh...hobby.”

She raised her eyebrows. “His wife is okay with this?”

Spike guffawed. “His wife was his costar.”

She giggled right along with him. When she calmed down, she asked, “So you're sure? No deadline or anything?”

He smirked. “If you're so worried about it, we could finish it right here.”

Buffy blushed. “I-Is it something...we should worry about?”

“Right adorable that you care so much,” Spike purred, threading his fingers through hers and tugging her closer.

“But...I have pasta belly,” she protested weakly, biting her lip when he lifted her shirt up.

“Oh yeh? Lemme see,” he murmured, pulling her shirt up. He grabbed her by the waist and tugged her down the length of the couch so she was lying on her back. He kissed down her sternum, smirking against her skin when she whimpered and arched into his touch. Then he blew a raspberry on her tummy.

Buffy shrieked. “Spike!”

Spike laughed.

“Oh, you're a hoot,” she grumbled, hugging her borrowed shirt to her chest.

“Oh, luv, don' be that way,” he chuckled. “Don' want to do anything you're uncomfortable with. Think it'd be much better for you to digest your food, anyhow.”

She crunched her eyebrows into a frown. “Who are you?”

He waggled his. “Thought we introduced ourselves pretty good earlier tonight.”

“Yeah, right after the horrible first introduction.”

Spike cackled. “Oh, m'still that horrible. I've got more than one dimension, luv, if you know what I mean.”

“Understanding that very quickly,” Buffy remarked, wrinkling her nose.

He leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. She sighed against his lips, throwing her arms around his shoulders when he nipped at her bottom lip.

“Where's the camera?” she asked suddenly.

“Oh, you're a right romantic,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “Can't kiss you when we're not rollin'?” He waggled his eyebrows again.

Buffy sighed. “Spike, I can't do that. You're my coworker.”

“M'clean! An' unattached!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I would hope that you're clean given our...careers.” She stood, toeing on her shoes. “Thank you for dinner, Spike. I really appreciate it. I'll see you on set tomorrow?”

Spike narrowed his eyes at her. “M'tryin' to ask you out here.”

She clenched her fists. “I-I can't do this. I'm sorry.”

“What part of 'this' can't you do?”

“We just finished having sex two hours ago, on business terms, and you're asking me out after...after we just made out on your couch and the lines are all blurry and it's just not something I can handle right now, and I don't even know how to process if we're flirting or prepping for making a video, and you were such a dick when I met you and I had your penis in me two hours after that lovely introduction and oh God...” she babbled, nearly running for the door.

“Oh, Christ, woman,” Spike growled, grabbing her elbow gently. “At least let me drive you home, you crazy bint.”

They continued to stare at each other heatedly as Spike shoved his socked feet into his boots.

Buffy sighed. “Fine.”

He groaned. When they arrived in front of his bike, he shrugged and handed her his helmet. “So we're doin' things a little backwards.”

“Spike,” she muttered, covering her face with her hands.

“Well, let's talk about it,” Spike growled.

“I told you that I can't,” Buffy whispered, her bottom lip trembling. “Please.”

When Spike mounted the bike with his jaw clenched, Buffy slid on behind him, clenching the handles under the seat. He turned his head to look at her. “You've got enough money for the motel?”

She nodded. “I paid for tonight.”

“An' what are you gonna do about tomorrow?” he snapped.

“I was gonna think about that...tomorrow,” she squeaked.

“Why don' you stay with me?”

She glared at him. “Didn't I just--”

Spike's nostrils flared. “Got it. You can't do it. But you can sleep on a couch for a few days. That's what I'm offerin'.” When she gave a silent nod, he started the engine. “Where's your motel?”

He parked directly in front of her room. He stood when she got off.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She bit her lip when he gently cupped her face.

“Think about it, will you?” he muttered before taking a step back and getting back on his bike.

When she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her, she sighed, “Trust me, it's all I'll probably think about tonight.”

On autopilot, Buffy stepped into the shower, brushed her teeth, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

~~

Buffy awoke to the sound of someone rapping on the metal door. She rolled over and groaned, wiping at a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth. “Hold on!” she hollered, stumbling out of bed. She opened the door only to squint into the bright morning light and the way it glinted off of Spike's bleach blond head. “Wh...huh?” She glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. “It's nine. Why...?”

Spike produced a pamphlet from his back pocket. “Checkout's at eleven. Don' want to get charged. Also, thought you might want some brekky.” He stepped inside and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Um,” Buffy said sleepily, “lemme brush my teeth.”

He smiled handsomely at her and sat at the foot of the unmade bed. “I'll be here.”

When she emerged from the restroom wearing a long-sleeve baby tee and short shorts, she wasn't ready for the dark look of lust that had fallen over Spike's features.

“Let's hurry,” he said, his voice deeper than she was used to.

Buffy gulped, gathering her belongings and shoving them in a small overnight bag.

He was directly behind her. She could feel the heat coming off of his body. “S'that all you have?”

When she turned around, they were mere millimeters from one another. “Yeah huh,” she said, biting her lip.

Spike lowered his gaze to her nude legs. “You're gonna have to get used to wearin' pants, luv. Shorts aren't exactly comfortable on the bike.”

“Should I change?” she asked.

Spike's hands seemed to gravitate to her hips on their own accord. “Yeah.” He released her as if burned, then took a step back. He took the overnight bag from her once she pulled out a pair of pants. “I'll wait outside.”

When she stepped out into the parking lot, he was finishing up bungeeing her belongings to the back of his bike. She carefully straddled the seat, trying her best not to make too much bodily contact with him. When they arrived in front of his apartment building, he easily undid the bungee cords from the back and slung her bag over his shoulder.

Buffy watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he unlocked the door with his eyes still fixed on hers.

“Made you breakfast,” he murmured. “Go on into the living room.”

Buffy gasped when she saw what he had prepared. On the coffee table was a huge platter of large green grapes, peeled orange segments, strawberries, cantaloupe cut into one inch cubes, and a little bowl of powdered sugar. “Spike, what...” She turned around to find him setting up a camcorder on a tripod. She laughed. “Look who's a right romantic now.”

Spike didn't say a word. He set the camera a foot away from the coffee table, and her mouth went dry as he immediately tugged his shirt over his head. She swallowed, backing up until her legs hit the couch.

“Spike...” she whimpered. She had hardly moved a muscle, but was panting all the same.

He took an orange slice from the platter, touching the juicy pulp to her lips. She darted her tongue out to taste its tartness. Spike began to breathe heavily as he fed her the orange, gasping when she suckled on his fingertip. He took her hand and pulled her down to the couch, grasping the hem of her baby tee and pulling it over her head in one motion. Buffy watched with hooded eyes as he took a strawberry from the plate, his gaze never leaving hers as he swirled it into the bowl of powdered sugar. He made a move to put it in her mouth, but gently rubbed the powdered tip against her bottom lip. He moved it down in barely-there touches and strokes, down her chin, over the swell of her chest, swirling around a sensitive areola and then a puckered nipple. Buffy licked her bottom lip, tasting the sweetness of the sugar.

Spike's light blue eyes seemed to darken further as he trailed the berry down her abdomen, then suddenly nestled the solid tip of the fruit between her legs, swirling it around her engorged clit. Buffy moaned, throwing her head back as he continued to rub it tortuously against her sensitive flesh. When she was nearing orgasm, Spike pushed it between her swollen folds, and she screamed as he moved the rough skin of the fruit against her gspot. The bleach blond groaned as she squirted all over his hand.

He raised the berry to his mouth and bit into the fruit, moaning. Buffy had never see anything hotter, and she unabashedly tugged at her nipples as he swallowed the treat. He came to her, crushing his mouth to hers in an electric kiss. Without her knowledge he had taken a plump grape from the table, popping it inside her and swirling it against her spot with the curved fingertips of his middle and pointer. He kissed her again, reveling in the vibrations of her whimpering against his mouth. He retrieved the supple sphere at the end of her orgasm, popping it between his anterior teeth with an audible crunch.

At some point Buffy couldn't tell where her orgasms ended or where they began as he conscientiously picked firm, rough fruit to rub ceaselessly against her tender spot, only to consume it at the end of her crest.

She was utterly sensitized by the time he knelt in between her legs, rubbing his precum all over his cock before entering her. She cried out as her walls adjusted to his shape, and with one firm thrust she was undone again, slamming her hips up against his, writhing underneath him, panting and grasping at his chiseled arms.

Spike was panting himself. “Love it when you do that,” he cooed.

Buffy grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him roughly. He bit her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as they moved sensuously together. He angled his dick so that it rubbed tormentingly against her top wall while his pelvic bone caught her clit just right. He smirked when she keened again and again, groaning when she bit his chest.

He smiled when she giggled. “What?”

“Now I'm really hungry,” she snickered. “You selfish guy, eating all the goodies.”

He batted his eyelashes at her. “Couldn't help it, luv. You taste so good.”

Buffy blushed.

“You gonna get dizzy again if I flip you?”

She shook her head.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“On your tummy then, sweetheart,” he crooned into her ear, smiling as she shivered. “Gonna let daddy finish inside you, hmm?”

She gasped when he invaded her from behind, peppering kisses along her shoulders and upper back and threading his fingers through hers as he started to thrust. She couldn't form thoughts or words as he moved sinuously against her, her bottom flush against his pelvic region. He groaned aloud when she squeezed around him, burying his face at her nape as she ground against him. He pushed his hips as far down as they could go, impaling her so deeply and so heavily that she swore she could feel him in her womb. She arched her back, both of them shouting as they came simultaneously.

Spike leaned his perspiring forehead against her shoulder blade. “You feelin' okay, baby?”

“Mmmmm,” she moaned. “We should have breakfast everyday.”

He chortled. “It is the most important meal.” He moved back as she maneuvered around to sit up. “We're still rolling,” he whispered into her ear, kissing the lobe gently.

Buffy threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Kissing him was like achieving nirvana again and again. He growled against her mouth, sliding his tongue between her lips. She gave it a hard suck, whimpering as he positioned the head of his cock between her thighs. Their combined spendings helped him slide in smoothly, and they spent the next hour grinding against one another desperately. She fell apart again and again until she knew nothing but sensation, and him. He came with a roar, and she squeezed every drop of his cum out of him.

Spike had no energy left but to cradle her in his arms, caressing her skin tantalizingly with calloused fingertips. He kissed the top of her hair and then the slope of her neck, sighing happily as she burrowed her face in his chest. “Better feed you before you get dizzy,” he murmured against her cheek.

Buffy sighed happily, then pouted. “Don't wanna move.”

He gave her a sweet kiss. “Not even for some flapjacks?”

“It's your fault,” she said, her pout deepening.

“What's my fault now?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I'm all jelly legs.”

He chuckled, embracing her tightly. “I can take the blame for that, then.”

“Mmmmm, pancakes smothered in boysenberry jelly and butter,” Buffy gasped.

“That's it,” Spike declared, lifting her up in his arms, “we're gettin' in the shower and then we're goin' grocery shopping.” He approached the bathroom door, then decidedly pinned her against the wall next to it. “But first m'gonna fuck you right here.”

Buffy wailed as he took her slowly, roughly, digging her nails into his back. When he finally got them into the tub, Buffy carefully lowered her legs. “Okay, we really can't do it in here.”

“Why the hell not?” he asked, adjusting the water temperature.

“The drought? Hello?” Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Guess we could do a bit o' water conservation.”

They got dressed in a companionable silence, and Buffy stole a couple cubes of cantaloupe before they went downstairs. Spike lived across the street from a Grocery Outlet, so they made their way over there for preserves and pancake mix.

Spike bumped her hip with his in front of the jellies and jams. “Did you think about it some?”

Buffy smiled shyly at him. “Some,” she admitted.

He grinned and took her hand.

She quickly untangled her hand from his. “But--”

“But what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Not here, please?” she pleaded.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He was silent as they put their groceries on the conveyor belt, and the walk back to the building was tense.

“Well?” he asked as they climbed the stairs.

“I do wanna,” she said quickly. “A lot.”

“But?”

“I don't think I'll be able to handle everything,” she confessed, sounding exasperated.

He smirked, though she could tell it was forced. “You've handled everything very well, I assure you.”

“That's not what I meant,” she said, impatient.

“Then what?” he nearly shouted, then deflated and scratched his cheek awkwardly.

“Spike, we're in the adult film industry,” she beseeched him. “I'd never be able to handle it if you fucked someone else or I had to suck someone else's...” She blushed.

“Now let's not get ahead of ourselves,” he cackled. “Haven't done the latter yet.”

“Spike, please take this seriously?” she groaned, pulling on the ends of her hair.

“Oh, I am,” he replied, sounding amused. “Do you recall Angel yellin' at me for tryin' to scare you away?”

“Yes,” she said slowly.

“Well, he'd just about given up on me 'til you came along. We were about to call it quits 'til you interviewed.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really. I may be a devil in bed, but my mouth usually fucks it up for me.”

“I thought your mouth did fine,” she blurted, then blushed.

“'preciate that, luv,” he said, smiling at her.

“And...”

He raised his eyebrows. “There's an 'and'?” he groaned.

Buffy bit her lip. “W-We... We don't know anything about each other.”

He stepped closer to her, his hands on her waist. “Well, I know you can cum from penetration alone, an' that gets me all hot an' bothered.”

She rolled her eyes. “That's one thing. And, uh, that's never happened before...with another person.”

He grinned gleefully. “Jus' like the oral sex hadn't?”

Her face got red. “Was it that obvious? Maybe I'm just really sensitive down there!”

“Mmmhmm, you are,” he purred. “Love it,” he murmured, nibbling on her earlobe.

“I know you're a dick,” she muttered, gasping when he nipped at her throat.

“See? One for one,” he chortled. “We'll learn things as we go. An' go on nice li'l dates... Know a drive-in theatre where I'd love to eat you out at.”

“But what if Angel hires somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Then we say no an' leave. He's the director and producer, not a slave driver.”

She sighed.

“Did I not mention eatin' you out at a drive-in? What're you so upset about?”

“I can't just leave the agency. I'm bankrupt. The IRS already took everything I have.”

“What about if s'just you an' me?” he asked quietly.

“What?” she asked, frowning.

“We're damn hot together, Buffy. You an' me. Webcam. People love watchin' that shit. You'll make thousands in hours.”

She was silent for several moments. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.” He took her by the hands and reeled her in. “An' it'll be so much fun...”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Don't you think it's a bit...unconventional?”

Spike barked out a laugh, then nearly fell over giggling. “Luv, we met on a porn set. You don' think that's unconventional enough?”

She blushed when he pulled her into his arms. Strangely, him holding her this way felt more intimate than everything they'd ever done.

Spike's cell phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He kept one arm around her as he put the receiver to his ear. “'lo? Hey, you great ponce. How's the wee one?” When he hung up after the short conversation, he slid his phone back into his pocket and looked at his costar-turned-beau. “Wanna meet the li'l brat?”

“But...pancakes,” Buffy pouted.

He chuckled. “Look at that lip...gonna get it.” He nibbled lightly at it, groaning as she slid her hands up the front of his shirt. “Alright, pancakes first, then we get to meet the ponce's spawn.”

She rolled her eyes. “You're a sweet as can be,” she remarked.

He smirked, giving her a quick kiss. “An' don' you forget it.”

She watched him take the box of pancake mix from his reusable shopping bag and pour some into a small bowl before getting a pan and putting it on the stove. She took the bowl from the table to pour water into it from the sink, mixing it gradually with a fork he handed her. “Don't you think we're moving too fast?” she asked, handing the mixture to him after he dropped a pat of butter in the pan.

Spike frowned at her. “What, luv?”

“Well...you're letting me sleep on the couch, a-and we're just talking about things, really, and I think that pan isn't hot enough yet!” She began to wring her hands when he glared at her. “I mean, don't you need space?”

“I've got lots of space,” Spike insisted, gesturing to it all with his spatula.

“Okay, I need space. I've been living alone for a little over four years. I just feel like we're gonna step on each other's toes or you're gonna get sick of me or we're just gonna drive each other crazy and maybe sex won't be as fulfilling if we're gonna have to do it everyday on webcam--”

“Luv,” he interjected, “the entire time you've been talking I've been imagining me bending you over this counter. I swear you are in no danger of me gettin' sick of you in the near or far future. An' you're welcome to stay wherever you like. If you need to earn a li'l more and stay on the couch for a couple weeks and prefer stayin' at that motel, that's fine by me. If you'd like to crawl into bed with me—also fine. M'not lockin' you up in a tower, Buffy. Now, how many flapjacks do you want?”

“Four?” Buffy asked shyly.

“Love a woman who knows how to eat,” he said with a grin, pouring some of the batter into the cookware. He plucked the jar of boysenberry jam from the shopping bag. “An' here you are,” he said, moving it within her reach.

They stood eating in a comfortable silence at the counter.

“Got any milk?” Buffy asked with her mouth full.

“Mmmhmm,” Spike replied, opening up the fridge. He poured her a glass. He kissed the back of her neck as she put the empty plate in the sink. “Would really appreciate you crawlin' into bed with me while you're here. I don' mind you stayin' on the couch, but I do enjoy your company...”

Buffy blushed as she began to rinse her fork.

“Almos' ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning off the water.

Spike pressed a kiss to her forehead before they made their way out onto the parking lot.

When they arrived at Angel's flat, he was surprised to see her there. “Buffy.” He glanced at Spike. “Are you holding her hostage?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I'm staying on his couch until I have more money for the motel.”

The dark haired man frowned. “Do you need an advance on your paycheck?”

“Don' worry 'bout a thing, Daddy-O,” Spike said. “Now where's that cheerleader o'yours?”

“Bedroom with Connor. Come on in.” He glanced back at Buffy again. “To be honest, I wasn't sure if you were gonna stay. I actually found another model just in case you didn't. I mean, Spike is a total ass and will probably scare this one away, too, but if you're uncomfortable with any of this, just say the word.”

The bleach blond growled. “An' when were you gonna tell me this?”

Buffy bit her lip. “Can I still keep my job? Am I working alongside this girl?”

“Of course, Buff. Two is definitely better than one, especially since you're both total knockouts. And I'm sure Spike won't mind the attention.” Angel chuckled.

Cordelia sat up when she saw she had visitors. “Honey! You could've warned me so I could put on some makeup!”

Spike smirked. “Aw, don' do that, luv. Those eye bags are so becoming on you.”

Angel's wife glared at him before her gaze landed on Buffy. “Wow! You've actually stayed? Somebody can actually stand Spike?”

The blond girl blushed. “Uh, he's not so bad...when he's not talking.”

“Not so bad?!” Cordelia gasped. She narrowed her eyes at Spike. “What did you do to her? Don't let him trick you!”

“'ey! You go on about me like I'm some kind of womanizer!” the subject of their conversation growled.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. “You mean you're not?”

Cordelia smiled. “I like you. Wanna hold my baby?”

She grinned. “Sure.”

“Don't drop him,” she said, placing him in Buffy's arms, “I'm not sure if he's on the insurance officially yet.”

The girls were cooing over Connor's pooping faces when Spike pulled Angel aside.

“You bloody hired somebody else?” the bleach blond snarled.

“Well, yeah, it looked like things were going a little sour,” the other man said with a shrug.

“Fire her,” he growled.

“What? No! She's just what we need. What's your issue now?”

Spike sighed. “It's Buffy.”

Angel frowned. “You're on a first name basis with her? Weren't you calling her a piece of meat yesterday?”

He waved his hand at him. “Doesn' matter. She told me she's not comfortable with me sleepin' with anyone else.”

The brunette gave him a blank stare. “She does realize she signed on to be on adult films, right? And I told her everything about the clinic. If she's so worried about catching something, I can ask Faith if she'd be okay showing her her most recent test. She got negatives on everything. And why is it you discussing this with me and not her? She--” His eyes widened, and then he narrowed his eyes at the bleach blond. “What did you do?”

Spike shrugged. “Uh, may have asked 'er out.”

“Jesus Christ. She was crazy enough to say yes?”

“'ey!”

Angel sighed. “Look, I booked Faith in for Monday. If Buffy's uncomfortable watching you fuck someone, she doesn't have to come in 'til later.”

“Lemme talk to her about this.”

“Spike. I've already made a lot of concessions for you. Either you're in or you're out, man. I love you like a brother, but I've got a business to run. You're either helping or you're ditching.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fuck. Alright. See you Monday.”

Buffy glanced up as Spike and Angel ambled back into the bedroom, still caught up in their conversation.

“So how are you really doing?” Cordelia asked perceptively, watching the blonde girl's faraway look.

Her face fell. “Spike asked me out last night. I'm...not sure if I can do it.” She glanced down at the baby in her arms, the corners of her mouth lifting a little as he blinked his eyes.

“Why not?” the brunette asked curiously.

Buffy shrugged. “Aside from the whole porn thing, I'm...Well, I consider myself monogamous, I guess. I just wouldn't be comfortable sharing partners.” She sighed, sitting down in the rocking chair next to the bed. “If I wasn't attracted to him this would work out for me. If he hadn't asked me out this would be the perfect job.”

The other woman gave her a sly smile. “Angel was like that, too. I'm surprised he's being such a dick, but I think it's just the Angel-Spike dynamic. They always were kind of assholes to each other. And really, no offense, Angel always has a backup model when it comes to Spike. That piece of shit has scared every one away, except for maybe the ones who didn't have much of a brain to begin with...”

Buffy pouted, slouching in the chair.

“Hey, no sticking out that lip! Not when you're holding my cute baby,” Cordelia said, playfully narrowing her eyes. She winked.

She laughed, feeling more at ease. “Thanks, Cordelia.”

The other woman smiled back at her. “Call me Cordy.”

Angel gave Spike a knowing look. “Come in on Monday. Faith'll be worth your while.”

When Spike decided it was time for them to go, Buffy couldn't help but notice the way he kept clenching his jaw. She kept quiet until they were back at his apartment. He sank down on the couch and stared emptily at his blank television screen. He noticed her awkwardly standing beside him and gestured her over, taking her hand in his as she came in front of him. He tugged her across his lap, sighing deeply into her neck.

“Your conversation with Angel didn't look very happy,” she commented cautiously.

He sucked his teeth. “The guy's a berk.”

Buffy smiled a little. “Still don't know what that means.” He seemed to withdraw within himself again, and she nudged him gently with her shoulder. “What did he say? Was it...was it about the new girl?”

“Yeh,” he said bitterly, “he scheduled her an' I to shoot a scene on Monday.”

She tensed in his arms. “Oh.” She pushed off his lap, crossing her arms to her chest and waiting for the shit to hit the fan.

Spike sighed and crooked his finger. “Come back here, please.”

“Are you going in on Monday, then?”

He grit his teeth. “Yes, to talk to him when he's not trying to show off his manly feathers to his wife. Din't we talk about this, luv? We came to the conclusion that we'd both leave if we were made uncomfortable, did we not? Now please come here so I can make us both feel better.”

Buffy bit her lip and settled back into his lap. When he slipped his hand up her shirt, she put hers over his. “No.”

“What's wrong, luv?” he asked gently, removing his hand to rub it up and down her back instead.

She took a deep breath. “I don't...I don't like the idea of us having sex to make us both feel better. It just...don't take this the wrong way, but the fact that we do it in front of a camera to make a living kinda makes it seem less special.”

“Wish I could change your mind about that,” he said, sounding bitter.

Buffy tensed. “Can you honestly tell me that the way you touched me when we first had sex had any significant meaning to you? Or was it some...some kind of shortcut that you use to facilitate the shoot? 'Gee, Buffy looks uncomfortable! Lemme act like a total sap so she's putty in my arms!'”

Spike sighed, threading his fingers through hers. “I din't want you to be uncomfortable, believe it or not.”

“But were you looking at that through a business perspective or did you really...do you truly...do you care about me? Did you then? Before you called me a piece of meat?”

“Buffy, look at me.” He cupped her face in his hands when she turned her head to look at him head on. “M'sorry I made you feel that way initially. It was all an act, that misogynistic shit I spewed out. All the girls who'd come through those doors at the agency thought this was the easy way out: 'Maybe if I jus' lie on my back I'll have it so easy for the rest of my life! Fuck tryin', fuck my self-respect!'”

She glared at him. “Isn't that misogynistic in itself? Why do you get to decide what's a good career choice for someone or not?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Is that something you thought about me?”

“No, luv...” he said pleadingly when she stood from his lap again.

“Don't lie to me,” Buffy gritted out, staring at him. “You don't just get to say words and not take responsibility for them.”

Spike clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, and counted to five. “The reason I went to talk to Angel is because I knew that you were already uncomfortable with the idea of us havin' sex with other people, an' this is before another person was even brought into the picture. I wanted to try to convince him to fire her, because I care about you, because I care about what you think an' what makes you feel safe an' unsafe. I knew...I knew once I saw those tears after all that bullshit I spewed out that you were not the kind of person I assumed you would be, an' that's my fault, an' now I have to deal with the consequences. I lost your trust from the beginning because I made it that way, an' I'm sorry. I don' think I'll ever be sorry enough.”

Buffy burst into tears.

“Please come here,” he begged.

She sank into his waiting arms, whimpering when he kissed her gently.

Spike picked her up easily and carried her to his bedroom. He settled her down on the mattress and wasted no time in sliding his arms around her. “My lovely girl. I'd never intentionally hurt you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Wh...what about you?” she hiccuped.

He smiled at her gently. “What about me?”

“I didn't...I didn't even ask you if this is the way you earn your living. I didn't even think about what it'd do to you if you sacrificed this job for me, a-and so early in our r-relationship. I don't want it to be something you regret.”

Spike chuckled. “I do this on the side, luv, an' only because Angel asked me to. All those papers I had on the coffee table the night I first brought you to the apartment...that's the way I make my livin', mostly. M'an accountant at City Hall, an' my da' is my boss. I swear to you that if I up an' leave the agency it won' be a loss to me. As I said, I think that ponce an' I are at the end of our tether anyway. You got a guy who's been directin' me where to stick my dick for almost four years, you start to feel a li'l outta control. Felt like I was married to a pimp.”

Buffy sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I thought this would be quick and easy,” she admitted. “Do a couple shoots, make money, be on my way, finally become the legal guardian of my little sister...”

“Wait, whoa,” Spike said, sitting up.

She bit her lip. “Dawn is fifteen. My mom passed away and I wasn't making enough money to be her guardian at eighteen, so they put her in a foster home. Thankfully she's only been in one, and the couple is really, really, really nice. She got so incredibly lucky. We heard all these terrifying stories about foster parents who are just really shitty people. And she got to stay in our hometown, which made things a little easier for her. She got to stick around with her classmates, and she has some of my close friends around to watch over her.”

“Why don't I--”

Buffy quickly shook her head. “Please don't offer me money. I really want to be able to earn this myself, for her and me. Even if it's porn, it's still legitimate because I made the effort. It's...kinda been my mecca for the past four years.” She laughed, sounding a little incredulous.

“What?”

She shrugged and sighed. “We fight like we've been married for years and we're nearing a divorce.”

“Haven' even taken you out on a real date,” he teased.

She grinned. “So what if we're going a little backwards?”

Spike barked out a laugh and hugged her again.

~

“Do you want to come with me?” Spike asked gently, tucking a strand of hair behind Buffy's ear.

She shook her head, lifting her arms above her head to stretch. “I'm okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Buffy smiled sleepily, nodding. “Yeah.”

Spike left for the agency Monday morning, feeling unsure. The front door was unlocked, so he made a beeline for Angel's office. He turned the door knob and kicked it open with the toe of his boot, freezing when he saw a dark haired young woman leaning against his boss' desk. Spike froze, seeming paralyzed as she stepped forward and knelt on the floor at his feet, undoing his pants zipper.

“Hi,” she murmured with a knowing smirk, taking him into her warm hand.

He shook his head. “Stop.” He pushed her hand away, growling in annoyance when she only returned it to its previous position. “Where the hell is Angel?”

Faith gave him a saucy smile, licking her red stained lips as she massaged his balls. “He told me you'd come straight to his office. Said you might need a little convincing.”

Spike cursed the other man, choking when she squeezed his dick. Without warning she had him all the way down her throat, swallowing once, twice, three times before pulling back and gagging. The bleach blond shook, groaning as she slid her mouth down on him once again. He could hear the sound of her undoing her belt and then she was shoving her hand down the front of her pants, fucking herself with her fingers as she gagged on his growing penis.

He finally got a hold of himself. “Stop,” he gasped, jerking backward.

She smiled, a trail of saliva dripping from her lower lip. “Your mouth says 'no' but your dick says, 'Fuck, yes, more please!'” She stood up, pushing her jeans down her hips and kicking them across the room. “C'mere, lover. I see you need a little more convincing.” She was neatly shaved and bare, her slit dripping with her arousal just from sucking him off. “Lemme ride you 'til you pop like warm champagne. Can't hardly wait 'til I feel you shooting your jizz inside me.” She gasped as she spread her legs a little to toy with her clit, shoving three fingers inside and whimpering before opening her eyes and stepping closer to the gawking man.

Spike finally managed to get a hold of himself. He growled and slipped his erection back into his jeans, groaning as he zipped up. Nary a word left his lips as he swung around and went back out the door, Faith's laughter echoing down the hall as he practically leapt down the stairs.

His dick chafed against his zipper and his hands shook as he mounted his bike again. He sped all the way home, and couldn't even recall how he'd gotten there so fast. When he stepped into his bedroom he found Buffy fast asleep in the middle of his bed. He went directly to the bathroom to jump into the shower and jerk off. After cleaning himself off he returned to the bedroom, the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

Buffy was up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “How'd it go?” she asked tiredly.

Spike sighed, tugging his towel off and rubbing it over his head. “They fuckin' tricked me.”

She froze, fully awake now. “What?”

“I walked into Angel's office and the bint was there waitin' for me. Wasn' long 'fore she was on her knees and takin' me out of 'er pants. M'sorry, luv. I tried to get away as fast as I could.”

“Fast as you...” she trailed off, staring at his limp dick.

“I should've known Angel would plan somethin' fucked up like this,” he growled. “She got as far as puttin' me in her mouth an' then the shock wore off an' then I tore outta there.”

“Hey,” Buffy piped up when he began to pace. When he didn't stop, she reached out her hand. “Spike, come here.”

He made two more rounds around his bedroom before coming to the bed, sighing.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said gently, taking his hand in hers.

Spike sighed, laying his head on her chest. “Don' know how much I want you,” he said, sounding resigned, “how much I want to do right by you.”

Her bottom lip trembled. She shoved a tear away with the back of her hand. “Spike...”

He didn't reply, circling his arms around her waist and burying his face in her throat.

Buffy swallowed. “Angel wanted me to come in today.”

Spike nodded, his lips pressed to the skin of her neck. “I'll take you.”

He remained in bed for a moment while she took her shower. When he heard her humming he found himself smiling and rising from the bed to toast them some waffles. She appeared out of the shower in nothing but one of his towels, and he purred as he set a plate down on the counter.

“Are you hungry?” he asked with a smirk.

Buffy blushed when he sat down on a kitchen chair and tugged her on his lap. He dipped his hand down the front of the towel, cupping her sex. She moaned, moving against his hand.

“I've got somethin' that'll fill you up nicely,” Spike said, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He finger fucked her until she came, and then used her juices to slather his dick before sitting her on his cock. “How's that?” he slurred.

Buffy came again. “So good!” she screamed, moaning as she met each of his upward thrusts. She squeezed, causing him to yell and explode inside her.

He kissed her long and hard, cupping her breasts and massaging a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. “Do you want more?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “But...it's almost time to go,” she protested.

“Don' you worry none,” he murmured into her ear, carrying her to the living room and depositing her on the couch.

They arrived at Angels Agency an hour and forty-five minutes late. Angel was glaring at them from behind his camera, filming a solo shoot with Faith.

Angel scowled, turning off the camera. “About damn--”

Buffy stomped onto the set, yanking the purple dildo out of Faith's hand. She shoved her so she was lying supine on the bed. Faith gasped as the blonde roughly shoved two fingers into her sopping wet pussy, then leaned down to give her nipple a harsh nip. The brunette gave a sharp cry, then smiled.

“Was wondering when you were gonna come to the party,” Faith hummed, pressing her mouth to hers.

She sucked on her bottom lip hard enough to bruise it. “Shut up,” she snarled, pushing her onto her hands and knees before driving the slick sex toy up her cunt from behind.

Angel looked slack-jawed. He shot Spike an incredulous look, who smirked, shrugged, and unzipped his jeans. The dark haired man rolled his eyes as his friend blatantly began to tug at his dick.

“You should prob'ly be filmin' this,” Spike said casually as he rubbed his precum all over the head of his cock.

“What, you're not gonna go over there?” Angel asked incredulously.

“Nah. She's having fun.”

The dark haired man rolled his eyes as he approached the camera again. “I don't fucking get you.”

He grinned. “Lucky for you, that's not your job.”

Angel shook his head. “I don't know why I even try.”

“Makes your day less boring, maybe,” Spike said with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Ooh,” he said as Faith got the upper hand. He sauntered onto the set. “Do you require assistance there, sweetheart?” he asked, saccharinely sweet.

Buffy grunted, glaring at him.

“Was wondering when you'd come on over here,” Faith said coyly, sliding a well-manicured finger between the folds of her costar's wet pussy.

“Upsie daisy, luv,” Spike purred, helping Buffy get on all fours. “F'you don' need any assistance, I could use a hand or two...maybe even your mouth an' tongue.”

Faith buried her tongue in between Buffy's ass cheeks as the blonde girl took Spike into her mouth. She moaned, which made his dick harder.

“Gotta say,” Faith remarked, massaging the other girl's clit, “I didn't think I'd be so fond of your girl. Think I know now why you'd want each other all to yourselves.” She winked.

The bleach blond grinned. “I don' mind sharing from time to time.” He groaned as Buffy swallowed around his erection. “S'this one who needs a li'l bit of convincing.”

“Mmmm, maybe I'm just the one to do it,” Faith said before burying her long tongue in the other girl's dripping hole.

Buffy cried out, which made her throat open more. Spike took the opportunity to fuck her mouth with gusto. Faith shook her face against her pussy, reaching in between her legs to pinch her clit. The blonde girl couldn't help but tremble—she'd never been eaten out by a girl before, and now she had a clue as to why lesbians had so much fun. They knew where everything was and what made one each other tick! And ohhhhh, was she ticking....

Spike couldn't help it anymore. She was sucking so delectably on his dick that he came without warning. The feel of his hot cum pouring down her throat set her off, too, and Faith licked every drop from between her nether lips.

“How's that for a cause and effect lesson?” Faith asked with a smirk. She pulled her in for a kiss, tasting Spike on the other girl's tongue. “Mmmm, your guy tastes delicious. Might need to convince you a little harder to share him.”

Buffy blushed. “I-I--”

Spike smiled at the two girls, relieved that this was going so well. He turned to Angel just as the other man stopped rolling, zipping up his pants. “Gotta get home now, mate. Red Wings are playin' The Bruins.”

Buffy was quiet on the way back to his flat. He respected her silence, entangling her fingers with his own at a red light. She sighed and leaned her cheek against his back.

“You hungry, luv?” he asked her as she sank into his couch.

She nodded. He flipped the TV onto ESPN, then went into the kitchen to fix them some dinner. When he came to the living room with two bowls of split pea soup she sat up, watching him place them on the coffee table. He took hold of her hand and guided her onto his lap, removing her camisole.

“Soup's still hot,” Spike said by way of explanation, darting his tongue out to taste a dusky nipple.

Buffy whimpered, rubbing her pelvis against his.

“Did you like what we did today?” he asked softly, running his hands up and down her arms.

She blushed. “Um, it was okay,” she replied bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Were you comfortable?” he pressed on, nudging his nose against the side of her throat.

“Not at first,” Buffy admitted.

“But as we went on?”

“It...It was good,” she said, her tone shy.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She gasped as he darted his tongue out to taste hers, kissing her deeply as she rocked in his lap. He slid a hand down in between them to tease her slit through the fabric of her denim shorts. With the other hand he began to undo his zipper, letting her take over when she squeezed his cock in her small warm hand.

He laid her down on her back, pulling her shorts down her legs. She could feel his warm erection pressing against her inner thigh, and she lifted her hips to make more contact.

Spike smirked up at her. “Does baby have a present for daddy?” he purred, cupping her sex.

Buffy smiled back shyly, nodding.

“Let's see what you've brought me,” he murmured, sliding his pointer finger inside her and wiggling his digit against her top wall. “Oh, how warm an' gooey you are.” He brought his finger to his lips and licked it clean. “An' yummy, too, baby. Think daddy's gonna enjoy this.” He flipped them so he was lying on his back and she was straddling his waist. “Go on then. Come sit on my face.”

Buffy could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Covering her face, she slowly straddled his head.

“Is my sweet bit shy?” he teased, pressing his lips against her clit. He chuckled, taking hold of her hips and darting his tongue out to taste her. “Mmmm, you taste so sweet. Daddy likes.”

Buffy lost it then. She rode his face, gasping and crying out at every swipe of his tongue, every suckle of her clit, the way he shook his face against her highly sensitized skin. He pulled her down so that she was flush against his mouth, reveling in the way she humped his face.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, gripping his hair.

He grinned against her skin. “What is it, pumpkin?”

“I-I--” Her eyes rolled back into her head as he nibbled lightly at her outer folds.

“Know Daddy shouldn't sup at your sweet li'l puss,” he purred. “But I can't help it, luv. You just taste so good.”

Buffy felt like coming right then and there. “D-Daddy, I feel...”

“Was is it that you feel, sweetheart?” he cooed, running his hands up and down her thighs.

“I-I feel so... so empty,” she whispered, blushing.

“Right here?” he asked softly, slipping a finger inside her.

She nodded urgently.

“You want Daddy to fill you up, sweetheart? Is that what you're askin' me? You want to be full of my cock?”

“Please...”

Spike took his cock back out, sliding it against her dewy center. He dipped his head into her glistening cunny only to pull quickly back out, reveling in the feel of her stretching to accommodate him and then tighten up again. “Fuck. Love this. Love the way you feel around me. My sweet little girl... Sit on it. Yes, that's right, swirl your hips. Fuck, that's good.”

He pulled her closer so that she was flush against him, circling an arm around her waist while his hand gripped her hair to tilt her head backwards. She sobbed as he mercilessly pumped inside of her. When he kissed her forehead whilst still moving his hips, she came.

“God, you're perfect,” he groaned as he came inside her, wasting no time in pulling her flush against him despite how they were drenched in each other's sweat.

“You're not so bad yourself,” Buffy giggled, tangling her legs with his.