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TimeLine: I'm thinking its set in Season Three....bit of a PWP! Nah, scratch that - COMPLETE PWP - no plot here....don't come crying to me when you can't find one!
A/N: I wanted to pre-empt any discussion about the title of this fiction, and some of the words within it. If you haven't guessed by now, I am an English writer - I do try and keep the spellings of words used in peoples' speech and feelings in keeping with their Nationality [e.g. in Buffy's speech she would say 'elevator' not 'lift' as she's American, where as Spike would say 'lift'], but outside of thoughts and speech I reserve the right to write it how I see fit.
Thanks to my beta, Lady Brandywyne, for beta-ing this fic…and lovin’ it!
Disclaimer: The book mentioned in this fiction is called Maiden Bride by Deborah Simmons it's a great historical romance and well worth a read. No copy write infringement was intended by including it in this non-profitable fiction.
"Why are you even here?" Buffy asked, glaring across at her only companion.
Spike smirked back at her. "It's a free country, pet." However, his voice was a bit strained as he tried to keep his eyes from detouring down her bikini-enhanced cleavage.
They had been struck like this for some time. Buffy had entered the God-forsaken lift, beach bag carelessly slung over her shoulder and a deep red bikini with matching sarong splashed over her body.
She smiled to herself, as she'd entered the small box, gleefully exalting in her two week holiday-of-a-life-time break. All-expenses-paid-two-weeks in Alexandria, Egypt. She refused to mull over the fact that it would probably be her last holiday and just enjoy her free time.
No need to worry over the hell mouth as the new Slayer had arrived.
No need to concern herself over school as it was officially 'out'.
Just bathe in the gorgeous heat and down ice-cold smoothies.
And with all these thoughts flying in her head she only noticed the last 'person', and she used the term lightly, she'd expected to see as the doors closed behind her.
Fortunately, or unfortunately - depending upon how you looked at the situation, they were not alone. A kindly looking elderly woman was also in the lift at the time so neither had said anything; the Slayer not wanting to scare the already half-dead woman all the way, and Spike reckoning that taking a snack while the Slayer was standing in front of him would probably not be the best plan of his unlife....and the tension rose.
For a full thirty seconds it soared until the elevator stopped and the shrouded woman departed. As the lift doors closed shut they responded in unison.
The Slayer whipped out her stake from God-only-knows-where, ready to attack as the Vampire slid effortlessly into 'game face'.
Moments before they were about to pounce, the lift jolted to a stop, sending the normally agile creatures to the floor. Above them the light flickered for a moment, before finally resting on what had to be a pathetic excuse for a back-up light.
Spike watched as the Slayer shot to her feet, backing up, her eyes closed as she obviously utilised her other senses to work out where he was. With an evil grin, the Vampire silently shot forward, murmuring by her ear, "Right here, pet."
He heard her gasp, and disappeared once more to 'his' side of the lift, narrowly missing the business end of her stake.
Buffy opened her mouth to yell at him, when they heard voices from above them. Buffy banged lightly on the metal door - enough to make noise but not so much that she broke it. The voices finally became clearer...and more definitely Arabic.
"Bil Englaisie!" Buffy shouted back in a very American accent. Spike raised an eyebrow in shock that the Slayer would know any Arabic, never mind something of use, but he said nothing as they listed to shuffling above them.
"You are stuck in lift...is between floors. Please a stop for repairs." A heavily accented voice called down.
"How long?" Spike yelled up, moving closer to the door.
"Is just four...uh..." Spike rolled his eyes as his Vampire hearing picked up the shuffling pages of a dictionary. "...hours....it may be more. Please be...." More flicking. "...patient."
And with that they heard feet shuffling away. Buffy sighed, curbing the ever-growing urge to scream and kick through the door. It was impossibly hot, and the little tin box they were stuck in wasn't helping matters any.
She turned to face Spike as she heard him growl and watched as his body slumped to the floor, an extremely pissed look on his face. She smirked...it would have been a more victorious smirk had she not been so pissed that she was stuck too.
Buffy craned her head, trying to hear any more signs of life - but was left unrewarded. With a sigh she rummaged through her bag, pulling out her voluminous towel. Sending a speculative look at the floor, she decided it was clean enough and lay her towel down as far from the Vampire as possible, and sat down. Retrieving her book from her bag, she flicked back to her saved page and continued to read.
That had been an hour ago.
The Vampire growled and shot to his feet, pacing the two meter by one meter box in agitation.
Buffy rolled her eyes as he continued to mutter, determined to ignore his unfortunately too-potent presence and concentrated back on her book.
Stuck in small, cramped spaces was not his style. He'd gotten enough of that while he was in the chair.
His eyes drifted to the Slayer at that thought. *Bitch.*
Great, now he was pissed at being in a box, for ever having been in the fucking chair, for coming to this bloody country, for randomly lusting after his mortal enemy...and then Angel just for the hell of it.
*I need a fucking cigarette....lack of nicotine making me go wacky...* His eyes widened as he remembered he DID have his fags with him.
"Bloody fucking hell..." He muttered, pissed at himself this time. He stopped pacing, reaching down to his duster to retrieve one. With practiced ease he slipped one out of his pack, the habit of living in a windy country causing him to cup his hand around the end as he moved to light it.
"Don't even think about it, Spike. Light up in here and I'll send you home to Dru in a dust bag."
Spike raised an eyebrow. This was the first thing she'd said apart from the odd gasp or sigh at whatever she was so engrossed in. *Ahhh, well. Time to draw her out.*
"Yeah, but they've already heard my voice, ducks. How you gonna explain my sudden lack of presence?" He persisted.
"I...I'll say I'm an on-the-road one-woman ventriloquist act." Buffy blurted.
"Shut up. I'm not getting lung cancer so you can feed your undead addiction."
"You probably won't live long enough to get lung cancer, pet." Spike pointed out with a grin that belied his harsh words.
"When I go, Spike, I'm taking you down with me."
His tone suddenly deepened, becoming more languorous. "Ahhh, pet, I'd love to go down with you." His eyes detoured down her body. "Or on you...or under you....or over you...or-"
Spike caught the stake before it could hit him in the head. Part of him was shocked that she hadn't aimed for the heart. "Ah, ah, Slayer, play nice with the other kiddies."
"I'm never gonna play nice with you, Spike." Buffy spat out hatefully. "Speaking of other 'kiddies', where's your ho'?"
Spike growled, "Don't call her that."
"Ahhh....did 'ickle Spikey get dumped...again?" Buffy cooed in fake concern.
"Shut up." Spike growled again, moving closer as his face shifted.
"Ooh, good come back." The Slayer's book was carefully put aside as she met him, move for move.
"Taking of ex's, pet. How is yours again? Heard he came back....did you not kill him well enough the first time?" He couldn't have avoided the fist if he'd tried, but he wasn't knocked back by the blow. "Hit a sore spot, love?"
"Don't call me that." She growled at him.
"What, love?" He grinned.
"I mean it, Spike, you're this close to fitting in an ashtray." Buffy scowled at him, then clung to him as the lift lurched downwards. Her eyes widened as the lights went out and she let out a little squeak as the lift stopped once more.
"Fucking hell!" Spike shouted, his amber eyes flashing over the Slayer whose fingers still gripped his. "You okay, pet."
Buffy quickly let go, "Don't call me that." She muttered, breathing a sigh of relief when the lights flickered back to a low light. Feeling very un-slayerish she slunk down to her corner and retrieved her book, trying to calm herself down.
"Is okay! Just mistake!"
Spike growled loudly as the voice from above reached them, "A bloody MISTAKE?!!!" He kicked the side of the lift, leaving a dent in it and making it swing to the left.
He immediately looked contrite. "Sorry, love."
"Sit the fuck down and shut up."
He noticed that she was less concerned and more pissed so decided to play on it. "Oooh, Slayer, language; what would your mum say?"
"Sit the fuck down and shut up." She replied on queue and the Vampire couldn't help the smile that sprung to his lips. Buffy almost replied with one of her own, but quickly remembering who she was talking too, buried her nose back in her book.
Grateful to return to the almost violent relationship that was Nicholas and Gillian's.
Spike watched, enthralled as he heard the Slayer's heartbeat speed up. Sweat began to bead up above her upper lip as her chest began to rise quicker and quicker.
His own chest started to rise in a mimic of the obviously aroused woman. His unneeded breath quickened, and his fingers itched to touch her.
Sure, he'd always been attracted to the blonde fire band. But, hey, he was a guy.....what guy wasn't gonna notice her in the tight little out-fits she went about in. It had taken all he was to stop himself from just fucking her that first night in the school...they had been all alone; all he would have needed to have done was push her up against the wall, rip away that piece of material she called a skirt and....
Spike growled low in his throat, shaking his head in order to try and clear the very potent image of him and the Slayer fucking in against a wall....or in a closet.....or a classroom....or pretty much anywhere.
Buffy gasped, quickly turning a page, reminding him of her presence. His eyes glazed over as they followed her tongue as it shot out to moisten her suddenly-dry lips.
Buffy couldn't slow her breathing. Couldn't stop her body's reactions to the erotic writings. Her body jerked forward slightly, unconsciously seeking the release described in the book.
'She was sprawled out in a pose he had seen before, but this time her shift rode up around her thighs, exposing incredibly long, creamy limbs. Her hair was spread wildly about her and her breasts were rising and falling rapidly, as if straining to be free of the linen that covered them.'
Contrary to her conscious knowledge her fingers started to glide across her chest, dipping occasionally down to her cleavage before climbing back up again; all the time making ever-increasing circles on her heated flesh.
'Desire surged through him, and Nicholas felt as though he had wanted her forever... Without stopping to think, he reacted instinctively, as he did so often in her presence. Pressing one knee down on the mattress, he rose up over her, took the front of her shift in his hands and ripped it asunder. Then he pulled the edges aside, baring her body to his gaze, and drew in a ragged breath.'
A part of her, some distant part of her that was aware of every move her body made, knew that this probably wasn't the best time for it....especially not with her mortal enemy a couple of feet from her.
'Heat washed over him, making him shudder as if fever raged through his body. By all the saints, she was beautiful, especially her creamy breasts, ripe and luscious, the nipples like berries, small and...hard.'
Torture wouldn't get the Slayer to admit, that in her mind the buxom red-head looked suspiciously like herself....and her knight in shining armour had a head of shining peroxide blonde hair.
But she didn't care.
'"I thought you did not want me." The sound of her voice, a rough whisper, only inflamed him further, and Nicholas heard a noise rise up out of his chest in reply.'
*Just a fantasy, just a fantasy, just a fantasy...* She continued to repeat the mantra to herself even as her aroused body enflamed with the prompting of the book...and the delicious scent of the suddenly very reachable Vampire sitting across from her.
'"I lied." he admitted, and, putting his hands on her out-stretched wrists to hold her in place, he leaned forward and took one bright berry into his mouth. She moaned, and the low, husky sound urged him on. He suckled, and it was more intoxicating than anything he had ever done.'
Her fingers kept moving.
Couldn't stop them.
Didn't want to.
The Vampire growled loudly, the final straw of his control broken as he watched her hand brush over her own hardened nipple. With an animalistic snarl he pounced on her, knocking the paper-back from her hands as his mouth descended on hers.
Buffy gasped in surprise and a bit of pain, trying to draw oxygen into her lungs but only managing to draw in Spike's tongue.
He crushed her into the metal corner and the sides of the walls dug into her back, causing spasms of pain to shoot across her shoulders. She struggled beneath him, her hands coming up to push on his shoulders and beat at his back.
All the time her tongue continued to dance with his.
She managed to get a good shot in, and he rose with a growl, shoving her back to the floor. He barely gave her a second to work out what had happened before he pounced on her again, his hands zeroing in on her chest. He ripped the flimsy material that held her breasts up as his mouth crashed down on hers. The whole time he kept up his continuous, commanding and some-what territorial growl, the sound reverberating through Buffy's body, sending delicious shivers to places delicious shivers just shouldn't go.
With a move so reminiscent of her book, Buffy found herself pulling his head harder to her mouth and arching up into his strong gropes instead of pushing him off.
She found the intense pleasure helped her decision a hell of a lot.
Her leg snaked free of his to wrap itself around his waist, throwing her hips up to his, grinding her body into his evident erection. Her hands moved to his shirt, shredding it easily with her Slayer strength. She discarded the remains in the general direction that her bikini top had gone, before quickly returning to exploring the smooth expanse of cool flesh she'd just uncovered.
The old lift groaned under them but didn't move as Spike thrust against her, his lips travelling down to her neck, biting softly; leaving a set of mock-Vampire bites. Buffy groaned, her body arching wantonly towards his, eager for his caress.
The Vampire continued to slide down her body, his mouth moving to her breasts. He licked and sucked at the tight nipples, gently nipping at the puffy, flushed flesh around them. She writhed beneath him, her feet moving against the sides of his jeans in a frantic attempt to remove them from his body and only succeeding in sliding them part way down his hips due to the fact that they were hindered by the killer erection he was so proudly sporting.
Spike groaned as the tight denim rubbed against him, and he thrust up towards her, quickly sliding further south to remove the rest of her underwear-like swimming costume.
An inhuman scream left Buffy's mouth at the feel of his cool mouth against her over-heated pussy. And Spike responded in kind as his senses went into overload at the taste and scent of her arousal.
Her hips began thrusting rhythmically as his talented mouth licked, nipped and sucked her to orgasm. The tin can shook violently as the Slayer's body arched in pleasure before slamming back down in release.
The Vampire gave her no time to recover; divesting himself of his jeans quicker then she could follow. He knelt before her; proud and secure in his masculinity, his cock jutting up hard against his taut stomach.
Buffy grinned up at him, licking her lips. When he didn't move immediately she lifted her hand, crooking her finger at him in invitation.
"What are you waiting for?" She murmured huskily, practically salivating at the sight in front of her.
Spike growled loudly and pounced.
His cock thrust deep inside her and she shrieked, lifting her hips up to meet his. They felt the lift begin to give, but neither cared.
"Again!" Buffy moaned, circling her hips beneath him as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Spike growled, his mouth crashing back down on hers as he rushed to comply.
With every thrust, the lift gave way a little more.
Buffy moaned and shifted, dragging her nails across his back as she arched towards him. Spike snarled and growled, grinding his body into hers with each thrust, hitting all the perfect spots deep within her.
Finally the last wire restraint that held the aged lift gave under the power of a Vampire/Slayer mating.
Spike abruptly flipped them, the small part of his brain that was still working, realised that it would be better if he was on the bottom so as to take the brunt of the impact himself. Buffy didn't loose a beat at the change of position, and kept bouncing in time to the primal music in her head.
They could feel the lift falling to the ground below, but neither of them could stop. Enthralled by the rhythm of their mating they continued to thrust helplessly against each other.
"SPPPPIIIIIIIKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" Buffy shrieked his name as she climaxed. The feeling was so intense that she barely heard the Vampire roar as he came. Neither did she feel the fangs that entered her throat, nor the lift that finally hit the floor.
The momentum shook through their bodies, breaking various bones in both supernatural bodies. But their state of euphoria was such that they couldn't feel a thing, only the joining of their bodies and the resounding thuds of their orgasms.
Minutes or hours later, neither knew nor cared which, the sound of voices from above them broke through their haze.
"You okay, ducks?" Spike whispered, brushing his lips over the girl's above him.
"Think we broke the hotel." Buffy murmured, careening her unbroken hand shakily over his face. She shifted and felt a few of her broken ribs creak in objection, "Ow, think we broke me too."
Spike groaned, feeling his own ribs and a couple of shoulder bones scream in protest. "Right there with you, love."
The voices sounded like they were getting nearer and Buffy tried to shift again, "Really think they shouldn't rescue us in this position."
Spike grinned, not in so much pain that he couldn't harden once more inside her eliciting a gasp from the prone Slayer. "Not sure, pet; I like this position."
They smiled at each other and Buffy leaned down to kiss him. She'd deal with the world when it arrived. But, until then...
Spike groaned as she tightened her inner muscles around him and she moaned as he hardened further within her.
And they began again.
Review are like ooey-gooey Spike sticks to me!
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