“Gahhhh!” Buffy flopped down on her bed with a resigned snort. There was no care that Willow was watching her with wide eyes, trying to quickly scramble to her feet and kick whatever she’d been reading under her own bed. There was only a pulsing dissatisfaction that was going to drive her to the very edge of crazy.
“Um, date with Riley not so meshy?” Willow asked hesitantly. She couldn’t be blamed for hoping this would be the guy to get Buffy passed all her Angel hanguppyness…could she? Although, she had been kind of pushy about Buffy going out with him, even though the Slayer hadn’t shown that much interest. Still, human! Normal. What was the drawback?
“Try high on the scale of boring and that I fell asleep while he was talking about whatever it is he does when he’s in Idaho or wherever he came from.”
Willow’s eyes bugged.
“You fell asleep when a guy was telling you about himself?”
Buffy groaned. Honestly, from the sound of Willow you’d think no woman had ever been bored by a guy before. And it wasn’t like she was up half the night chasing down the real action in Sunnydale. She was tired and he was dull. Deal already!
“Forget it, Will. It was just one of those awkward first dates where you are blind-sided by a hammer that no matter how hard you try, it wasn’t gonna work. He was just…there was no….he just wasn’t—”
“Angel?” Willow accused and Buffy narrowed her eyes in irritation.
“I was going with passion and sparkiness…but if you insist.” Buffy rolled over and buried her head in her pillow, screaming into the soft fluffy featherness before attempting to face her friend for ‘The talk’.
“Look, I know you mean well, and that you’re all worried about me and my getting over Angelness. But Riley is so not the way to do it.”
“Oh.” Willow blinked, still standing against her bed with that sad look that had found a permanent spot since Oz had left to go find himself. “Okay.” And she bounced as her butt hit the edge of the bed. Then the tears began to fall and Buffy jumped up and ran to give her a hug.
“Oh, Willow. I suck. Here I am going on about the suckage that is known as Buffy’s lovelife when you have your own going on right in front of me. Selfish much?”
She didn’t expect an answer, and really was rather glad when Willow stayed quiet but trembling. Honestly, her own life left her emotionally exhausted and Buffy wasn’t sure exactly how much sympathy she could hand out. Besides, she could understand why Oz left. He was a danger to them all until he worked out the monster that dwelled inside of him. He truly was protecting Willow by leaving. If Angel had had some kind of similar reason, then maybe she could find it easier to move on herself.
No, Angel left because he was afraid for himself. He couldn’t have love without sex, and that little epiphany shed a new light on the situation that Buffy hadn’t ever contemplated.
Well, that was kind of uplifting, she thought to herself in small amusement as her hand continued to offer soothing rubs to Willow’s back. It was amazing how a few small thoughts could repair a heart when you least expected. So, Angel couldn’t get from her what he wanted, so he took off. Yet, to make himself feel less like a lecherous old man and failure, he had to make his leaving all about her.
‘Why that miserable ass!’ Buffy felt the memories steam inside her head and her rubbing of poor Willow’s back became slightly more brutal.
“You know what? Guys are just worthless. They, in a word, suck. We should be all about the feeling good, play them at their own game. How about we get all with the pretty and go out and break us some hearts?” Some evil little corner of her heart rejoiced in the idea, and Buffy put every scrap of enthusiasm into the offer, already picking out her skimpiest outfit that would turn the boys on while they watched her walk away. She didn’t have to settle for boring, and she didn’t have to settle for a guy that couldn’t have her. She was the slayer and there would be no more settling of any kind.
Buffy Summers was ready for the fire of danger and passion. She so wasn’t letting Willow’s pitiful sobs and heartache put a brake on all her lightbulb moments.
“I really don’t think I could do that right now, Buffy.” Willow was busy wiping at her tears with the baggy cuff of her sweater, her eyes darting toward her pillow as if she was going to hole up on her bed for the rest of the night.
It was early, and Buffy was absolutely NOT going to let Willow wallow. The night was made for getting into the groove and shaking their booty. And with a bit of luck, Xander would be at the Bronze and they could all get down together. Even if he did have his strange girlfriend tagging along. Actually, on second thought, the more the merrier. Anya was probably the perfect person for Buffy to seek out. They could talk a little talk, get some kind of idea what she might be looking for when human TA’s and souled vamps were so out of the question.
And Anya’s constant chatter about the nature of her orgasms and how frequently she liked to receive them might be just the thing to get Buffy in the right mood to throw her inhibitions to the wind and seize a little happiness for the night. She definitely wasn’t after another Parker, but she could be the one in control this time. She could call the shots and say she’d call…and then not.
It was a perfect plan, but to get away with it she needed Willow to get all flashy with the clothing and to actually leave the dorm.
“Come on, I’ll help sex you up.”
Willow’s eyes went huge, and before she could complete her stuttering objections, Buffy had dived on her hair and make-up and thrown several tight pants her way. Buffy could be a giver. Tonight, she was wearing a skirt. And heels. Heels that screamed ‘horny teenager wanting action’.
It was something dark inside her that dictated she toss the overall coverage of her usual turtlenecks and instead allowed herself to barely be covered by the slinky black number that showed off almost all of her back and a very large dip at the front. Tonight was about being noticed—finding what it was that could help her move beyond Angel and his selfish revision of her life plans. Well, her romantic ones at least.
In a whirlwind Willow was fluffed and primped and they were ready to go, Buffy almost feeling like singing on her way to the Bronze, chattering about all the hotties they were going to find and stomp into the ground. She felt like Faith—the good bits before she went all overboard with the murder of humans and siding with the side of evil. No, she felt like she had a right to anything. A right to explore her options and make choices not in consideration of Angel or anyone else. This was her life, and Buffy was absolutely going to take every moment given to her. She had such a short amount of time, she may as well have what she really wanted. Now if she could only work out what that was, she’d be perfect.
She wasn’t singing when they entered the club…yet! Buffy wasn’t going to leave this place before she peeled back a few layers of her uptight personality and let down her hair—figuratively, because the literal was already flowing free.
She felt confident. Intact. For the first time since she’d sent Angel to hell she felt a little less of the damage in her that had kept her shying away from life. Felt like a decision she made might not be shaded with fear of mistakes and the need to get it right the first time. Older and wiser was what she was. In the space of one date with a human, Buffy felt capable of finally telling the difference between honesty and a line. She had a finely tuned Parker radar that would keep all the creeps away from her heart and body. Her feelings about the night were so of the good.
And so she was grinning as she reached the table where Xander and Anya were making cow eyes at each other. The presence of Spike didn’t phase her at all. In fact, he had that sneer of disinterest that she suddenly found really sexy. Huh! Why hadn’t she noticed that scar on his brow before? And hey, thought. If souled Angel’s and boring humans were off the dating list for a slayer, then a chipped Spike seemed like the PERFECT fill in. He was hot, witty, really sexy with the innuendo, knew exactly who he was and took very little crap. Well, until he got chipped, but nobody was perfect, right? And he was all smooth and sleek. Buffy was positive he’d be great on the dance floor—and possibly anywhere else she might find a use for him.
Willow plopped down in the seat beside Anya—a strange choice for the redhead but making Buffy more than happy to be left with the one beside Spike. Only once she was there did she notice the handcuff that attached his wrist to her chair leg and that explained easily his slumped position.
“Why is Spike here?” asked Willow, ever practical and information seeking.
“Giles begged us to take him so he could have a shower and possibly watch some boring nature channel while he got drunk.” Anya, pragmatic and frighteningly insightful sometimes. “But you’re the slayer, so we’re palming responsibility off to you. Xander, give her the key.” A nudge to his ribs with her never faltering shiny smile and Anya had gotten her wish. Xander passed the keys over and sighed in relief.
Power flooded Buffy’s body and she could feel an overflow of ideas and seduction techniques making her body tingle. She could be so responsible it would hurt. With a very sinister grin, Buffy took the key and bent over in front of Spike, getting as close to his hunched figure as possible as she reached to unlock the cuff attached to her chair. The cool night air entered the gaping front of her top and she felt like giggling as a nose nudged against the edge of the fabric.
The cuffs sprang open and as she stood back up she encountered shocked blue eyes.
“I feel like dancing.” With no question about what he felt like doing, she’d snapped the metal cuff around her own wrist, the key still between fingers that suddenly realised she was lacking a pocket to put it in. Her friends had quickly become consumed by some subject and hadn’t noticed her back to them as she stared at Spike and fiddled with the key. Having no other option, she waited till Spike’s gaze was intent on hers and pulled the waistband of her skirt out a little, standing up close and letting him watch as she dropped the tiny key down the front of her panties. She wiggled her hips and moaned lowly as she felt the cool slip of metal against her skin, revelling in the heated look Spike gave her lower regions. Wow, who knew sex could be so powerful?
‘Ooh, cold,’ thought Buffy as she suddenly felt more horny and alive than she ever had in her life. That was the most erotic thing she’d ever done, and by the look in Spike’s eyes as they strayed and held at her crotch, she was willing to bet he thought so too.
With that part of the festivities taken care of, Buffy dragged a confounded Spike to the dance floor, holding his hand like intimates despite the metal that held them together. The clink of the chain seemed to have an effect on Spike, making him shudder by her side and Buffy was left to wonder what events in his past made him feel like that. It added to her excitement that she was getting Spike riled up in a sexy way. And this was just the beginning.
The music was so loud and bass derived that Buffy felt it rock throughout her body. It set her pulse pounding through her veins, feeding an imagination that was already kicking in gear in regards to Spike. Already she was moving, and only once they hit the middle did she turn so that her back was against his front and he could easily bend down and talk in her ear.
Buffy curled an arm around his neck, feeling light-headed at the touch of his short curls at her fingers, and breathless as she felt his lips getting closer, her other still holding his hand as the short metal chain slackened between them and she settled his touch on her belly. Cool fingers caressed her skin as his tongue licked her ear and he growled. She had no use for thought, just action. Action Buffy with her butt pressed into his crotch and rejoicing in the obvious effect she was having. Strangely, the growling reminder of who he was had no impact. No impact meant she could continue to be carefree, to enjoy the moment exactly as she’d set out to do.
Buffy shuddered against him; the shock of such a feral sound against her ear and neck rapidly scattering across her body and tightening each and every cell. She felt her nipples harden into painful points, and she felt wet. She felt such a need to see him. To watch his face as this moment unravelled and he felt bound in nothing but sensation and reaction. Was he looking sinister and evil, as was his character? Or was he showing signs of something softer? Something she’d only caught traces of in the past when he was touched by Dru?
“How do you plan on retrieven’ the key when we get back to the table, pet?”
Buffy spun, letting her burning breasts rub against his thin black tee as his knee settled against her and she straddled him wantonly. She allowed the hand joined with his to clasp intimately with hers, letting him guide it to sit erotically against her thigh. Her hand curled into his hair as she pulled his face down to let her lips rest against the smooth lobe of his ear. She’d caught it, though, and it made her heart flutter. A small, frantically hidden glimpse of awe. She was turning him on, and despite his reluctance, he was allowing it.
“Who said we’d be going back to the table?” And she sucked the tasty flap of flesh into her mouth and moaned in unexpected pleasure. The silk of her top gently brushed over painfully tight nipples—combined with the cold fingers stroking her skin beneath the fabric— and all Buffy could feel was the rush through her body, the sudden gushing need to touch and be touched. She felt the heat between her legs as she swelled, and she felt desperate for relief of a suddenly building tension. It felt so different, so forceful and Buffy lost her mind to the possibilities that she’d never allowed herself to consider.
Spike suddenly remembered he had a spare hand that could obey the commands from his brain and he curled it around the smooth leather of her ass and hauled her in closer. He purred into her neck and Buffy jumped at the eroticness of his cool breath as it flowed down the smooth column.
“Yeah? Any plans on where we can go to look for that key?” His voice rumbled in her eardrum and Spike smirked as he felt a warm patch on the leg of his denim.
“All in good time, Spikey.” And she bit him. Blunt teeth against his naked throat. Buffy felt something hard jump against her stomach and wondered what else might excite him. She licked the spot her teeth had just shallowly marked and smiled against his skin as the new protrusion lengthened and hardened against her hip bone.
For extra good measure, Buffy slid her body back and forth in time to the beat of the music, making sure she remained in contact the whole time.
Buffy was excited, though a little frightened about what she was doing. Playing around with a master vampire was never a good idea, and this one just happened to be related to the previous love of her life. She needed a little distance to think, to be sure what she was doing was exactly what she wanted because she had this sneaking suspicion that one time might never be enough once a girl had experienced Spike. Drusilla—cheating skanky hobiscuit that she was—had certainly found something to cling to for over a century. It couldn’t just be for the way he painted his nails—and hers.
So, her back-up was normal. In this frighteningly supernatural and bizarre experience, she had normal as a fall-back and thus had been her day so far.
“You’ll never guess what I did today?”
Spike snorted. “Unless it had you chained to a bathtub and being forced to drink blood from a novelty mug, I wouldn’t waste my brain cells tryin’ to guess.”
“I went on a date,” Buffy persisted pleasantly, a smile in her voice even though her face was still buried against his neck. “A nice date. In the sun with a normal human guy. He had a pulse and a thermos. Oh, and there were apples.”
Spike pulled back to look at her face and cocked his head, an inner battle warring over whether she was serious and why he gave a toss.
“Angel told me he was leaving so I could have a normal life, you know. So, I went on a date.” And she beamed. It blew his usual Big Bad composure right out the window. Not that tremendous a feat when added to the dilemma of keeping his dick under control as her hot little body continued to writhe against his.
Spike was struck with how unbelievably chipper she seemed. He was hard pressed to recall any time when she’d looked like this. The snarl that ripped from his throat wasn’t planned.
“You mean His Royal Foreheadedness couldn’t bear being around his honey he supposedly loved all platonic like, and bolted?”
Buffy grinned wider, her shiny lips enticing and yet he was sure poisonous for his peace of mind.
“Bingo,” she almost shouted in his face and for a second Spike couldn’t remember what he’d guessed that afforded such gusto in response. It was hard for a bloke to hang onto the thread of the conversation with her licking her lips and showing him the perfect biteable beauty of her neck. “And you know what I learned while on my date with normal?”
Despite himself, Spike was sucked in and interested—if only to gather enough intel to possibly twist the knife into someone broody later down the track.
“Do tell,” he drawled, attempting to look bored and disinterested with a sardonic twist to his top lip, despite feeling himself shake with lust.
Buffy licked her lips and stared at his mouth as she unconsciously wiggled closer to his body, her breath fanning the moist spot where her tongue had been a short while before. And squeaked as his hand tightened around her leather covered ass.
Okay, her derailed seduction was so back on track, Buffy decided with a twist of her hips and a less than subtle rub against the appendage poking her hard.
“Normal puts me to sleep.”
The Slayer giggled as she slunk closer, now not even enough room to accommodate their clothing comfortably. The temperature rose to scorching as Buffy’s cuffed hand rubbed its way sensually to his back jeans pocket, sinking in and searching for a good spot to tease the curve of his ass.
Spike swallowed hard and wondered where it was exactly that he’d lost the conversation. He had hot slayer flesh pressed firmly against him with a very short skirt pushed up further on his leg as his brain scrambled to catch up to his hand. Her burning crotch left a patch on his leg and he felt his cock throbbing in reaction. She smelled delicious, enticing him with a new slayer experience he had never considered.
The music continued and Buffy’s tongue got active again with his neck; Spike was left with nothing but confusion and a hard on of painful proportions. He wasn’t stupid, though. Not like these kids thought he was. He knew Buffy was playing—playing with power she didn’t understand yet. She’d tasted souled vamp and came out of the experience slightly worse for wear. Now she was dating normal and finding them as dull as he could have told her she would. He wondered if her dalliance with the dark side was what the chit really needed; really craved, and was yet too innocent to acknowledge. Having her in his arms without a violent thought in his head, he was inclined to believe in miracles. Not that he’d ever craved the Slayer for anything but her broken body as another notch for his reputation. But he could adapt.
So, what was a poor slayer perched on the edge of womanhood to do with her raging hormones? Sure, he was leashed good and proper and she could play with him like a helpless puppy, but he knew better than to dream he would get any real action. She’d have him hot and horny and then he’d be chained back in the tub with barely a hand to wank by.
He wanted to push the envelope. See how far he could get her to go before his brain turned to mush. He couldn’t force her or his brain would fry and slip out his ears. And even if the thought of rubbing flesh with the slayer had him wanting to heave, so be it. Wasn’t like the populace was an open smorgasbord anymore. He wasn’t exactly on the in with his normal demon crowd—not that he’d ever found a tasty enough morsel to spend more than a quick shag with anyway—and humans were out now that he had the Goody Two Shoes Squad breathing down his neck.
Oh. No, that was Buffy, making his skin feel warmer than it ever had since he was undead. Letting her breath fan across his flesh and make him hard and eager to move on to the next step of her cruel game of ‘make Spike blow with frustrated lust’.
So he let her slither her soft form against his, biting back the groans every time she rubbed him in a particularly sensitive spot, and started to look frantically for a spot less crowded. If he could get her to go with him to a darkened corner on the balcony when she’d finished shaking her ass, maybe he could see how good little Miss Summers truly was.
With that little spark of evil to repair his woefully battered confidence, Spike participated in the game. He always did love to dance.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Honey? You’re catching flies.” Anya shoved at Xander’s chin till it snapped shut. His eyes, though, didn’t move from the spectacle that made him drop his drink and jaw simultaneously.
“What in the name of Frodo and hairy apes is she doing?”
Willow and Xander gaped at the obscene looking display Buffy was putting on for the room, almost choking when she started sucking and licking Spike’s neck.
“Riley must have slipped her something to make her go all cuckoo.” It was the only explanation Willow could think of. She’d only seen Buffy do this once before, and that had been to make Angel jealous. Even then it had been as a result of post-The Master oogyness and confusion.
“Oh, that’s just the mating dance. I was surprised it took Buffy this long to see the pluses of dating Spike,” Anya contributed despite the aghast looks on her companion’s faces.
“Pluses? There’s pluses now? Where was I when it changed from being all about the negatives?”
Willow nodded, a frown creasing her forehead as she searched frantically for a reason. Then a wave of sadness fell back on her shoulders and she decided she just didn’t care.
“Well, it’s not like she’s been all hip with the sympathy lately. She deserves another mistake. She fell asleep on Riley! That just reeks of stupid decisions. If Spike is her thing, then so be it. I hope they’ll be happy together. It’s not like my true love is just going to drop into my lap.” Miserable green eyes watched the table, romantic defeat and Willow was done.
“Oh cheer up. You’re bringing us all down,” Anya snapped.
“Hey!” Willow puffed up with a sense of righteousness. “It’s okay for you. You have smoochies. And Xander smoochies…which are kind of good. Not like you have to go out and keep looking for Mr. Right. I wish we could just find the right person and live happily ever after. The five of us. I am so sick of everything being all doom and gloomy.”
Anya watched and grinned. If she’d been a vengeance demon she would have hated that kind of wish—it didn’t seem to promise maximum pain. But as a newly human woman looking for love, it was good. Really good. She watched as Xander nodded his agreement, curling an arm through his and smiling wider as he looked at her with his usual amount of lust and patted her hand. Oh yeah, orgasms galore tonight.
Willow sighed and went back to nurse her misery. It was strangely comforting.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Didn’t I tell you this would be the perfect place to grant wishes?” Jonathan bubbled, excited and preparing his arms for the correct wish-granting posture.
“Whoa there, Bucko. Slow down, Slugger. Who said you got this wish?” Andrew pouted, also readying himself for the arms crossed and blinking sequence.
“What? They were my friends,” Jonathan huffed, irritation with his sidekick already settling in.
“You wish!”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I would if I could, genius. But we can’t grant our own wishes or I would have wished you to be a bigger baboon than you already are. Right after I wished us out of this mess.”
“Oh hey, Mr. Big Shot. Who was the one that tried to summons the King Genie to do our will?” Andrew grinned in self-satisfaction as he relaxed in his chair with his arms crossed, almost falling off but managing to keep his gold and glittery turban fixed firmly on his head. Damn, but his curly toed shoes always got caught in the rung of the stool.
“It was your idea,” Jonathan spluttered. Then he narrowed his eyes at his companion and prepared for a race; prepared to beat the friend that had helped him in a plan that had backfired and turned them into genie slaves until their one hundredth wish was granted.
“This…one…is…mine.” His voice was determined, eyes flinty with purpose.
“No.” Andrew stood. “It’s mine.”
While they glared at each other, Shirley Temples abandoned at their table, the battle exploded. Arms slapped together and turbans wobbled. Rapid eye blinks and shouts of ‘HUH!’ as a puff of smoke erupted where they stood.
Andrew giggled. “Oops! You did it wrong, you did it wrong,” he sung in typical juvenile fashion.
“Did not. I watched Barbara Eden the exact same number of times you did, and we did it exactly the same way. So if I got it wrong, so did you. Genius!” Jonathan glared, then they both became aware of that tingly feeling of being watched.
Sharing a look, they both turned to the table where Xander and Willow sat stone-faced and confused. Jonathan waved uncomfortably, then turned and bolted for the door, Andrew beside him. Neither had much of a clue who won the wish showdown as they bumped and barged against each other in a hurry to get out.
“And again I say, what in the name of Frodo and hairy apes was that?”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Um, hey.”
Willow jumped as a gentle touch fell on her arm and turned slowly to see the pretty blonde girl that had been in her wicca groups.
“Oh, hey,” she greeted enthusiastically. She had no clue why, but seeing the shy Tara was exactly what she felt she needed to perk her spirits up. “Guys, this is Tara. Tara, meet Xander and Anya.”
Xander smiled and watched as Anya leaned across the table to shake the new girl’s hand. It was always nice to have another friendly face in a group she was only just embracing. It needed new blood.
“Lovely to meet you, and now that you are here, Willow won’t be alone when Xander and I go to his basement to have orgasms.”
Tara blushed wildly, giggled nervously and then turning to look at the couples on the dance fool. One look at Buffy and she turned beet red and quickly gulped a mouthful of her drink.
Then she sat, and for Willow, the night looked beautiful again.
~* ~ * ~ * ~
Some bloody idiot had turned on the heating by mistake.
“Spike? Is it me or is it hot in here?”
Spike nearly combusted on the spot. The sexy little chit had become game, ghosting her little hand over the bulge in his jeans even as he gaped down the very revealing front of her top. He choked suddenly, ‘was that a nipple?’ He couldn’t understand why now, but he was noticing things. Like how she was dressed. Sure, he’d picked up on the fact that she was falling out of her handkerchief top and her skirt barely covered her tush, but the stilettos? They hadn’t had any impact on his brain till she scraped the heel up the back of his leg. And that unexpected impact went straight to his cock as his flesh erupted into goosepimples.
“Might be time to go find that key. Wanna go up to the balcony? Might be a tad cooler up there,” he squeaked, knowing full well that if he took her up there and even only THOUGHT of getting the key back, he was buggered.
His cock was a permanent ramrod. He’d need new jeans if she didn’t give him some relief soon, knowing full well he was going to buckle his zipper.
Her answer was a step back, coquettishly batting of her eyelashes as she tugged on his hand and led him to the staircase, Spike all the while imagining the same pressure as she tugged on his freed cock. Watching the swish of her tight bum in the short leather skirt seemed to do him more harm and he bit his lip to prevent a call of distress from escaping. He was passed caring what his chip would do to him if he inflicted rightful pain. This chit had him so wound up that he was going to feel her heat around him if he had to have brain seep out his ears.
He could never understand why, but it was always almost deserted whenever he would wander up to this little hidey-hole. Maybe even dense Sunnydalians knew it was a perfect spot to be accosted by the secret creatures of the night? Whatever the reason, tonight he was grateful as Buffy led him to the couch in the shadows, happy again to be dwelling in the dark with the promise of heat to soothe the burning in his cock.
He wanted to come, and one subtle sniff and he knew how much Buffy had worked herself up.
Wait! Hold the bleeding phone. Buffy?
His balls tightened at the name, and he forgot that the slayer even existed. She sat him down and straddled his lap, her hot centre scorching even though she hadn’t settled over him yet. No way was he asking permission—or letting her set every little pace of this interlude. She’d taken him too far and she really didn’t need to see a hot and horny demon when thwarted at the important moment.
“How do you want me to find the key, pet?” He caught her eyes as his hand wandered beneath her skirt, tracing small circles along the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She quivered under his light touch. He smirked as her eyes widened against the curved rub of his fingers over her covered pussy. Nope, no key had fallen that far down to clink against his digits. Still…he poked the fabric up and felt the burning heat that waited for him between her legs. He was rubbing the crotch of her panties inside her and getting them good and wet.
“I could tear these off you right now and that key could fall somewhere you would need to look for it.” His voice was husky with raw need, the hand cuffed to hers seeking the metal that kept him in pain. Her fingers encouraged the move and yet he was almost surprised when his pants popped open and his cock fell forward, her eyes now seeing what his subtle innuendo had indicated the next hiding spot could be. “Or maybe it’s made its way up somewhere that I need something bigger to search with.” And he moved her dripping yet covered pussy over his swollen dick and rubbed her against it.
Soft silk settled against his aching head, rubbing excruciating friction and soaking up his streaming precum. It was a sensation he’d never experienced before, and Spike felt shocked that he was receiving this almost torturous passion from the one he’d considered his worst enemy.
He watched as her sense was lost behind a haze of passion, sweat making her skin shine.
“Mmmm, feels juicy, luv. Maybe my tongue could do a search and rescue?”
At her frantic nodding he couldn’t wait anymore, entwining desperate fingers in her hair and pulling her head closer. His lips were a breath away, he looking intently into her eyes for some kind of sign. Not one telling him she was hesitant and he would be another of her mistakes—because he just didn’t care. Evil! Yet he searched anyway, not wanting to admit that he would hate that. He was tired of being everyone’s bitch and mistake.
There was softness in her eyes; it wasn’t expected but he’d be the last to reject it. He’d never been looked at with softness, now since his mother had suffered through his enthusiastic readings. But this softness burned—and she wanted him. The continued glide over his cock as she locked her eyes on his told him how much.
Buffy felt his touch everywhere. Felt the smooth yet cool presence of him all over, and didn’t even need to shrug one single feeling of disgust or loathing away from her activities. He was sweet—the way he watched her and made sure it was what she wanted. She could see the argument he was having in his head—that he didn’t really care how she felt but did. Buffy couldn’t help but smile and wish for explosions.
The cuffed hand re-established its place at her pussy, letting her own hand hang for the moment but having plans that she had no clue about. Knowing he was getting beyond the tease, one flick of his wrist and her panties were gone, the roaring in his ears too loud against the barrage of her delicious smelling juices that he didn’t hear the tinkling descent of the key as it fell between his legs and to the floor.
Spike grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her fingers before positioning them just right, and with the patience he’d seldom ever shown, he rubbed her own well manicured nails over her clit.
“Ooh, Spike,” she moaned. “You’re so not normal.” And her eyes closed, refusing to let him see if she said it in relief or objection.
He was taking it as a positive, never seeing himself being on the wrong side of normal as a problem before. Manoeuvring her fingers craftily, he slipped her inside herself, feeling semen seep out the slit of his cock as he held two of her fingers deep with two of his, pumping slowly as she moved subtly against them.
Her top was cut with a massive slit down the middle—a wing and a prayer holding her breasts within it. He was through with the promise and seized the prize, his hungry mouth sucking ferociously on one as the strap fell down her arm and her pussy soaked their fingers with her excitement. His thumb caressed her clit and his cock rubbed against her crack. She filled his mouth perfectly, the swell of her breast a sensory delight that he couldn’t help but compose lines over. He wanted to look, to take his time. But later. Patience was for when they were alone, and when they knew what it all meant.
Too much sensation and he hadn’t even kissed her. He wanted to taste. Wanted to explore the hot cavern of her mouth and feel the blunt edge of her teeth. Neither of them cared about her exposed breast as his tongue left her aching nub and licked her lips. She felt like cream against his tongue; soft forbidden cream that he had to consume or dust.
She was panting against his lips, almost crying from the exquisite feelings that flooded through her. He could feel it, could feel the thrum of her blood as it coursed through her body, leading to her pussy and making her veins hum with excitement. He wanted it so bad, licked his lips to try and give himself time to think.
When her mouth finally touched his, he felt something inside snap. Like a chicken with its innards finally giving way. It was demonic; it was natural. It was brutal and yet beautiful. He moaned into her mouth and frantically sought to connect his tonge with hers. She bit it and he could feel the roar break through his blood, wanting more than he ever thought he could have. She devoured him with her mouth, and he felt the tension that she was fighting while their fingers stirred her clit. When the tension broke, he ripped their fingers away and settled his cock at her entrance. She was too entranced to say no, and he needed to feel the hot cave she’d treated his digits to before he dusted.
The slide in was gracious. He could feel layers of his cock burn off to her heat and he was grateful. He crushed her mouth to his, swallowing everything he could get of this amazing experience. God, she was so unbelievable. Hotter than the sun. But it wasn’t enough. As she slowly did the first slide up his cock, he moaned, squeezing her breast hard and tugging the nipple, while biting her tongue.
Biting. That’s what he wanted. He didn’t usually bite during sex. Only on special nights with Dru did he try to use that as some sort of way to make her submit; to be his. No other had ever felt his fangs while he pulsed inside them. Yet Buffy, he wanted to make her feel it all. Feel all of him. The decision had him almost engorged beyond his boundaries; he could feel the angry tension of the cords as they strained higher and tighter, objecting to the slow strangle of her muscles as she tried to control him.
And then the slip down. It began slow but sped up once that introduction had been made. He tore himself away from the nirvana of her lips, biting playfully at her breast. A quick suck, a gentle piercing with barely emerged vampire teeth and he went wild at the whiff of her blood.
She liked it. His chip remained silent as he saw tears emerge from her eyes, and ones of lust—not pain.
“You like it, baby? Want to feel how good it can get?”
The slow sway of her tits as she bounced on his cock mesmerised him, and he couldn’t hear the words that tumbled from her mouth from the roaring epiphany in his head. She kept her eyes in his, watery but knowing—and accepting. He saw his future as she undulated above him. His salvation. His Heaven and his Hell. His Princess and his whore. Wherever the arrow settled, she was his and he knew she wouldn’t view it the same. But as well as a mate, here he had leverage. Revenge. Against his poofy grandsire and her pathetic friends. As her mate he couldn’t be held prisoner in the cold enamel of a bathtub. Just one drink from her neck and he could be sitting pretty with her attached to his cock night after night.
She hadn’t balked at the scratch of his fangs at her breast. It was a thought that excited him no end, and as his lips teased the skin where he wished to bestow his mark, he found it difficult to concentrate while she milked his cock with her rapid movements.
She squeezed him, hard and it was just enough to enrage his demon. His fangs sank through the thin protection of her skin, zeroing easily in on her blood and he rejoiced as it spurted into his mouth. Her hand was on the back of his neck, her pussy pulsing tightly against his cock as she melted him with her come.
It took three mouthfuls for him to explode.
His body shook with the strength of his release, shuddering his great shock of feeling as he retracted his fangs and licked at the pretty wound on her neck.
“Be mine, Buffy?”
Her body jolted again in his lap, the smell of another peak reached tickling his nose as he waited hopeful and yet insecure. She fell forward exhausted into his arms, her cheek against his as she gasped in air.
“Okay,” she sighed against his lips and he felt like laughing. It was a weak acceptance—not quite the declaration of devotion his romantic side had always craved, but it WAS acceptance, and in it held approval. For now it might have been his sexual prowess, but before he was through, he’d make sure it was more.
Before he was through, he’d have love.
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!