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05/18/17 04:16 am
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Lovely banner by Edgehead73. Thank you, Mel!

Authors Chapter Notes:
Before you ask, yes, I know I’m crazy for starting yet another WIP. However, muse has been behaving lately and proof of it is that I’ve written 3 chapters of 3 different stories in a little over a week. And she isn’t showing signs of tiring out yet, so I’m making the best of it. This idea has been running in my head for a bit and well, I just had to write it for taboo_spuffy, hope you enjoy!

Written for the new LJ community Taboo Spuffy Fantasy Stories (http://community.livejournal.com/taboo_spuffy). Taboo Spuffy is an adult oriented community created by OKDeanna and I, where the primary focus is on the dark, naughty, kinky, all human fantasy stories. We do allow the occasional vampire/slayer story provided it’s dark, naughty, kinky or taboo (ie. Underage Buffy seduced by vampire Spike, etc). Starting July 1st, we are taking signups for the first ever Taboo Spuffy Fall Fantasy Ficathon. The theme for the Fall Ficathon is Back To School with stories being posted starting on September 22nd 2008.

Betas: My wonderful friends IBE and OkDeanna, I’d truly be lost without you, cariños! Thank you very much for your encouragement, edits and awesome suggestions. And thankee Carrie for the read-through. :D

Chapter 1. Losing Control

He’d never been more thankful for his very dark sunglasses than at this precise moment. The last thing he needed was for her to realize he couldn’t take his eyes off her luscious curves while she played in the pool. It was hard enough as it was already. He was hard enough.

Spike banged his head on the back of the chair as he tried to control himself from just saying to hell with everything and seduce her. But what he really needed to do was to learn to say no… especially when it concerned little Buffy Summers. Although, she wasn’t all that little any longer, his eyes told him as much as they treacherously slid down her perfect breasts, her tiny waist and toned legs… and therein lay the problem exactly.

He should have said no when her parents begged him to take care of her for two weeks while they went on a much needed second honeymoon. To hell with them being his best friends, his only real friends. He should’ve cut himself from any ties with them after that fatidic day a little over a year ago when he found himself growing hard as he admired the gorgeous young woman his best friends’ sixteen year old daughter had grown into practically overnight. After that, he’d tried his hardest to stay as far away as possible without arising Hank and Joyce’s suspicions. Quite a feat that, considering up until that moment, he’d all but lived in their house.

But somehow he’d managed without much trouble… until now.

How the bloody hell was he going to endure two weeks of having her there, prancing around in those skimpy outfits she seemed so fond of, in those bikinis which left barely anything to imagination—to his imagination.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his groan when she got out of the pool and started walking towards him. Like Aphrodite emerging from the ocean, she was. Only a whole lot more tempting than the Greek goddess ever dreamed of being as the water droplets slid down her golden, nubile flesh.

His tongue peeked out to wet his suddenly dry lips, his cock twitching inside his swim trunks as an image of him licking each single one of those drops from her body came unbidden to his mind.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! These were gonna be two very long weeks.


Buffy got out of the pool in the very same fashion she always did, by putting her arms on the edge then pushing herself up to her knees and straightening. The one thing that was different this time was that she did it while aiming for his viewing pleasure. Her movements smooth and deliberate as she brought her hands up to get her hair out of her face, arching her back to showcase her pert breasts and then sashayed her hips as she walked towards the other end of the pool, hoping she was giving him a tantalizing view of her ass before diving into back in once again.

She didn’t have all that much experience in seducing anyone, or for that matter, any at all. But she’d been in love with William Sinclair since she was five years old and he’d saved her from little Xander Harris when he pulled on her pigtails. At an age when most girls fell in love with their fathers, she’d fallen for him and had yet to stop falling. She didn’t care he was twenty years her senior, her parents’ best friend or that she wasn’t even eighteen yet. What difference did a few weeks—okay, so it was really two months—make anyway?

And he felt something for her. She knew he did. What was it? That was the million dollar question. He loved her, but was it the kind of love reserved for a niece or did he see her as a woman? Sometimes she’d thought she’d seen something flickering in his eyes when he looked at her, but she couldn’t be sure.

This time, though, there was no mistaking the warm caress of his azure gaze following her every movement, even if he kept it hidden behind those dark shades he wore. And that gave her the courage she needed to do what she had to do.

She neared the stairs and let herself out of the water, slowly, leisurely making her way towards him. Keeping her eyes trained on him, she reveled in the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as she neared him, in how his tongue came out to wet his lips, in how her own body was responding to the idea of teasing him until his control snapped.

Buffy smiled at him when she reached his side, handing him a tube of sunscreen. “Can you put some of this in my back? I don’t want to get burned.” At least not like this, she added to herself.

“I-I,” he stammered, looking from the cream to her face and back while wracking his brain trying to find a plausible excuse to say no. The temptation of discovering just how smooth her skin really felt under his fingertips was just too much and he didn’t trust himself. “W-why don’ you jus’ go inside, pet? Midday sun is not good for you, anyway.”

She sat by his side, in what little space was left on the chair he occupied and pouted, whining, “But I don’t want to. Pleeeaase?”

His eyes settled on the protruding lip he wanted to nibble on, suck into his mouth. He groaned as she innocently bit on said lip with her teeth, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed onto the sides of the chair to stop himself from touching her.

She had no bloody idea how much she affected him, of that he was sure. She was too innocent, too young, too inexperienced to know. And he was nothing but a lecherous old man who should know better than to contemplate giving free rein to his baser instincts. But bloody hell, if she wasn’t making it hard to stop himself from doing just that.

She sensed his inner turmoil, his struggle; saw it in the way his jaw ticked, in the tight set of his mouth, in the way he clenched and unclenched his hands. She wished she could see it in the blue ocean of his eyes, too. Wished she could drown in them, in him. Wished she could feel his hands on her body, teaching her to please him, how to be a woman, his woman.

“’M sorry, love, I don’ think tha’s such a good idea.” He shook his head, hating himself when he saw the way her face fell… right before a resolved glint settled in the emerald depths and he braced himself for what might be coming. Whatever he thought she would say, though, it definitely wasn’t what he heard next.

“Oh, alright,” she said in a resigned tone, “If you don’t want to help me, I’m pretty sure your next door neighbor will be more than happy to. After all, Angel said he’d be home all week in case I got bored, didn’t he?” She managed to suppress her amused smile when she noticed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of the brunet, imagining the stormy blue his eyes must have turned into behind his sunglasses, before twirling on her heel and advancing towards the small gate that separated both properties.

Spike saw red when she reminded him of the worthless piece of shit that was his neighbor. Fucking Angel Fischer, the twenty five year old who collected women as others collected stamps, the man who’d leered at Buffy when they arrived home earlier that day, promptly offering to entertain her if she got bored with the company of an old man. Old man, he’d show him who was an old man and while he was at it, he’d show her, too.

She never heard him trailing after her, all she felt was being jerked by the arm in a one eighty to face one very irate looking Spike. His nostrils flared, his mouth set in a thin line, his body tense as he invaded her personal space and God, if his reaction didn’t make her want him more.

“Don’ you dare!” he gritted between clenched teeth.

“Don’t I dare… what? Ask Angel for help? It’s not my fault you didn’t want to apply sunscreen to me. I asked you first, remember?” she asked, raising one finely sculpted eyebrow at him. “You don’t care if I get sunburned.”

“Of course I bloody care.” More than you need to know. He passed his free hand over the back of his neck and sighed heavily. “Just give me the blasted sunscreen and I’ll put it on you, alright?”

“No,” she replied.

“What do you mean no? Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

“Well, yes, but you’re only doing it to appease me, not because you care whether or not I get burned,” she answered, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. She was well aware she was acting childishly, but she just loved seeing him squirm, making him react to her taunting.

He groaned, praying for patience as he closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the lip. Bloody hell, if she only knew how much he wanted it, her. She was playing with fire and she was going to get burned with something hotter than just the sun if she wasn't careful.

Spike knew what he was about to do was not a good idea. In fact, it was downright idiotic. But if he gave in to what she wanted he wouldn’t have to see her lovely face upturned towards his, or the deep green pools he wanted to lose himself in. He wouldn’t have to think of how perfectly he knew she would fit in his arms, how much he wanted to say to hell with everything and teach her all those things her eyes were begging him to teach her.

He exhaled a heavy sigh, opening his eyes again, resigned to his fate. “Buffy, love, give me the sunscreen? I really don’t want you to get a sunburn, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly, while inside she was squeeing with joy. “Thank you, William.” Buffy smiled sweetly, handing him the bottle. “Hmmm, perhaps I should lay there? Give you more room to work?” She nodded towards the other chair, already moving towards it and bent over, waiting with bated breath for the moment in which his hands would make contact with her body.

Spike swallowed hard as his eyes traveled down her body, most of his blood rushing southwards as he focused on her… ahem, assets. Her position made the luscious curve of her delectable arse stand out a little more, the black scrap of fabric that barely covered it teasing him, making him want nothing more than to tear it from her body and have his wicked way with her. He wouldn’t, though. He couldn’t.

His hands shook as he squeezed a small amount of the sunblock in his palm and gritted his teeth, angry with his inability to get a hold of himself. He was a grown man for hell sakes, not some pimply teenager who had absolutely no fucking idea how to behave around a girl. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d found himself in this situation. It was the first time with her, though. And he’d only been coveting her for what felt like forever.

She had to bite down a moan at the first hesitant touch of his hands as they slid across her shoulders, moving her hair to the side. God, this was even better than she expected, than she ever dreamed. But she needed to up the ante if she wanted his control to shatter.

“Wait, wait.” She sat on the chair, having found the perfect way to do just that.

“What now?”

“Well, since I’m already here I’m going to sunbathe, and I don’t want ugly bikini marks in my back, now do I?” She twisted her head to look back at him from over her shoulder and batted her eyelashes coquettishly at him. “Can you undo the knots of my bikini top, please?”

It was official; she was trying to kill him. If there was a wall nearby, he would be banging his head silly on it. How the bloody hell did he end up in this predicament? He knew he couldn’t say no, not after what happened before.

And what’s worse, she knew it, too.

She had to be aware she was tormenting him, at least to some degree. She was young and innocent, yes, but she was also a woman or on the verge of becoming one. A delicious young woman. He shook his head to clear it of his traitorous thoughts. Focus on the young part and forget about the rest and you’ll be fine, mate, he thought, steeling himself to do what she asked.

Easier said than done, though, since instead of reclining back on the chair as she should have, she remained seated, presenting him with her back.

His fingers were unsteady as he tried to undo the first knot, the one holding the two pieces of fabric around her neck. It took him longer than he anticipated, his eyes straying to her front where she was giving him a magnificent view of her glorious breasts encased in the black cloth and then something inside him snapped.

This was by far the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life. He’d known it before and damnit if he didn’t realize it now. But even with that knowledge he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t bring himself to care. Her skin felt like silk under his fingertips and he found himself drawn to it, to her, like a moth to the flame. He wanted nothing more than to be scorched by her fire as his lips finally made contact with her golden flesh.

She shivered at the sensation of his hot breath against her neck, of his hands lightly stroking her shoulders in tiny circles, and just about came out of her skin when she felt the softest of kisses placed on her shoulder, then across her shoulder blades and yet another to the nape of her neck.

She leaned back against him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers, the solid firmness of his chest pressed against her back as his hands trailed down her arms, his lips wreaking havoc on her senses as he kissed more of her neck, his scent—that undeniably male scent of his—permeating the air around them.

She moaned his name just as his fingers gripped her hips, tilting her head backwards to give him better access to her throat. One of her arms snaked up to tangle around his neck, bringing him even closer to her. He was driving her absolutely insane with the need to feel his mouth claiming hers; with the need to feel those sinfully soft lips learning all the secrets of her body, to feel his hands caressing her all over, to feel all of him against her entire body.

He was going to hell for this, for molesting an innocent girl, practically a child. But she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a woman, a very desirable woman who made him want things he had no business wanting, things he hadn’t experienced in years.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. He had to stop it, himself, before the biggest error he’d ever made turned into a disaster of monumental proportions. But then she breathed his name and he could care less over the consequences of his actions as he twirled her around to capture her lips in a searing kiss.


Chapter End Notes:
A tease, moi? But of course, it’s part of my charm. Hahahahahahahahaha!

This story is so very different from anything I’ve ever written, so I’d love to know what you thought of it. *bats eyelashes*

I wish you a wonderful week!

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