Chapter 1.


Buffy loved waking up to fresh ground coffee in the morning, especially when that coffee was brought to her in bed. Even more so when it was delivered by a hunky man with bitable buttocks and no clothes on.


Sadly, there were none in the vicinity. Instead, she had to drag her ass out of bed at the screeching sound of the alarm clock, grumble all the way through her morning shower, grimace at the mirror while she brushed her teeth, and make her way to the campus cafeteria to drink the murky liquid that passed for coffee there. She’d always manage to make sure she occupied one of the more secluded tables, the ones far from the windows, where the in-crowd hung.


After a couple of sips of the extremely suspicious concoction, she’d usually feel like she’d swallowed a missile of adrenaline and spend the hour or two before her first class of the day people-watching or writing. She was extremely good at both, and she kept telling herself she liked not being in the center of things. It was easier looking into them from the outside. She could be more objective and feel bad for those who weren’t smart as her, shake her head at those who didn’t see how fucked up their lives were, and make fun of the bimbos who thought they had it made with their long hair, skimpy outfits and very few brain cells.


She wasn’t bitter. As a matter of fact, anyone who ever got to talk to her would comment on what a fun person she was to be around, how smart and witty she was, how cute… but she felt they couldn’t really see her. They only saw as far as she allowed them to, and even though she’d tried hard and for many years to only let a select few close enough, she feared not even they saw the real her any longer. Every single person in her small circle of family and friends had an idea about how she should live her life, what she should do, what she should change, so she’d fled from them, enrolling in college halfway across the country.


She had grand plans of reinventing herself, at first. She’d be mysterious and sexy, and meet the man of her dreams, and stop worrying about the destruction the planet was heading for, because that wasn’t what girls her age were supposed to do. They were supposed to party and fall in love and be carefree. Only it seemed she didn’t have carefree in her genetic material. She was one of those peculiar individuals with a conscience, someone who cared. . She shied away from crowds, seeking herself without the distraction others brought about, while what she was really in need of was someone to see her.


“You know, I see you every day.” a male voice with an indisputably British accent startled her enough to make her choke on her coffee.


“Oh, I’m so sorry!” the man who’d apparently read her mind said, seeming completely flustered. “Are you all right?”


Buffy nodded mutely and he went on. “I’m terribly sorry. Just thought I’d come over and be all charming and witty, and say I see you every day but have never heard your voice and was dying to, or something.” He rubbed the back of his head and she could swear he blushed. “Guess now on I’ll know my efforts at charm are life threatening.”


Buffy giggled and was shocked at the sound. She didn’t giggle. She wasn’t bubbly. She laughed out loud like one of the boys, sometimes chuckled, but didn’t giggle.


“So, now that I’ve heard you laugh, I guess I should be content, right?” the adorable stranger with the honey blond hair and the bluer than blue eyes asked and she tried to find something smart to say but could only grin. “I’m William,” he offered and held out his hand. “And I’m not from around here.”


Now she had something to work with. “Not from around here? Never would have guessed,” she said and shook his hand. “I’m Buffy.”


“So, Buffy, care to show the new guy the ropes? I’ve only been on campus a couple of weeks and haven’t exactly made new friends.”


She had no clue how it was possible that there weren’t people jumping at the chance to be his friend, but she decided against looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Sure,” she said with a shrug that took lots of effort to seem unforced. “I’ll show you around. Meet me after class?”


“We actually have Creative Writing together.” He checked his watch. “Now.”


Which was how Buffy found herself watching the perfect ass of the cutest guy she’d ever spoken to making its way to class. And he’d offered to carry her books.


~~~~~*~~~~~


He was completely and utterly adorable, hot, and she wanted him. She’d decided on all three the moment he first spoke to her, but when she asked what he was scribbling during the entire time in class and he blushed and mumbled, “Just a poem, nothing interesting,” she had to resist pinching his cheeks or grabbing him and kissing those perfect lips.


When he asked if she’d get some coffee with him, Buffy found herself grinning. And then she caught herself giggling again, like a silly teenager, or one of those chicks she loved to make fun of. If she flipped her hair, too, she’d tell him she couldn’t see him again, she decided, all while coquettishly batting her eyelashes and making little sounds of awe as he told her about himself. He was one year her senior, had just transferred from England, a shocker that, and wasn’t much into sports or nightlife, so he had no common ground with most of the people he’d met on campus. Buffy felt extremely lucky about that. She felt privileged to be in his company, it was as if she had dibs on a well-kept secret: the awesomeness that was William.


Coffee turned into grabbing a bite, and then catching an oldie at the cinema, and although the word date never came up, she was pretty sure that was the best date she’d ever been on. Only, when he drove her back to her place and insisted on walking her upstairs to her door, to, in his words, “make sure none of those pesky frat-boys made an unwanted pass,” at her, the good night kiss she expected never came. At least not to the lips. She’d done everything right: leaned against the doorframe and smiled at him, told him how much fun she’d had, and asked him in for a drink. He told her he’d love to spend the next day with her, but that it had been a long day, kissed her on the cheek and said, “See you tomorrow,” before she was once more left to watch his perfect butt move away from her.


Tomorrow had never before taken so long to get there.


She tossed and turned most of the night, sexual dreams of her and William haunting her sleep until she gave in to what her body craved and slipped her hand between her thighs, to rub the tension away. Her fingers were punishing on her clit, pinching and pressing the sensitive nubbin roughly as she sought a release that wouldn’t come. Licking her index and middle finger, she slid them along her slit and then pumped them inside her hard, her thumb working on her clit, but still the knot of lust tied in her lower belly refused to let up. Finally too tired to keep on trying, and with her hand going stiff from the awkward angle, she let out a frustrated growl, flipped on her stomach, buried her face in her pillow and waited for dawn.


~~~~~*~~~~~


He wasn’t there when she got to the campus cafeteria, and God knows she looked for him. After an hour had gone by, during which she’d even written a rough draft of her thesis, and he’d still not shown up she decided the previous day meant nothing and filed it in the part of her mind that held fantasies with movie stars and fictional heroes.


Suddenly, he showed up. Short of breath, hair mussed and eyes hooded with sleep, he all but ran towards her, waving an arm, the other haphazardly balancing a carton that held two Styrofoam cups. The moment he was close enough for her nostrils to detect the smell of coffee, fantasies with movie stars were permanently deleted from her mind.


“Sorry I’m late, thought I’d get us some proper coffee,” he managed to say between panting breaths.


Late? “To be late, a time of meeting has to be set first, no?” She winked at him and wanted to pat herself on the back for managing to be witty when all she wanted to do was slobber and gush.


“Well, in my head, let’s do it again tomorrow meant same time, same place.”


“Good thing I’m not in your head then, or I’d be pissed at you for standing me up.”


“And I’d have to grovel then, right?”


Damn, she should have acted pissed. She smiled so wide she thought her face would split in two. “Nah, coffee would get you a get out of jail free card.”


“Thank God for small favors, then.” He winked. The mischief in his blue eyes made her dizzy and she giggled. Again.


This time they skipped class, too engrossed in their conversation on social responsibility and what just one person could do to change the world. By the end of that chat, Buffy’s stomach was growling. When William said he was hungry and asked if she’d go for a veggie burger with fries, she knew she was in love.


When he left her at her room, it was a repeat performance from the night before. As soon as he’d disappeared down the stairs, she wanted to scream.

She ran to her bathroom, and took a good look at her teeth. No, no errant piece of greenery wedged between her front teeth. She sniffed her armpits and cupped her palm in front of her face and exhaled deeply, but there was nothing unappealing about her body odor or breath. Maybe he just wasn’t attracted to her. Also, maybe she should take her vibrator to bed with her.


The stupid piece of plastic achieved nothing more than what her hand had the night before. It buzzed till the batteries nearly ran out, but all she felt was annoyed that it wasn’t William inside her. She kept replaying the feel of his fingers on her face when he brushed a lock of hair off it saying it hid her eyes. How he stopped her with a reassuring and firm hold on her knee when she thought she’d invaded his personal space and tried to move away, mumbling a “Sorry, I’m in your bubble.” Most of all, she recalled the sensation of his warm lips as they lingered on her cheek for just a split second too long for the kiss to be considered purely friendly. The memories only served to confuse her, however, as the kiss had to have been purely friendly, or he’d be pumping inside her now, his weight pinning her to the mattress, his narrow hips bumping against hers. And she’d come for him, she knew she would. Hard!


~~~~~*~~~~~


She woke up with the vibrator still inside her, sticky and sore, and unsatisfied. Today would be the day. She’d beg him to take her, if she had to, although she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.





Tbc.

Chapter 2.


That morning he wasn’t late. He was there before her, at the table she always picked, grin and cups of mocha flavored coffee in place. She had to put an effort into not rushing her steps, barely managing to seem nonchalant as she sashayed his way in her cutest jeans.


“You’re late,” he said, still grinning.


“Well then, I guess we’re even,” she replied, mirroring his smile before taking a seat.


She could feel his eyes gliding over her while she busied herself with her cup of delicious coffee. If he’d only brought her the steaming beverage naked – preferably in bed – she could die a happy woman.


“You’re beautiful,” he said matter-of-factly out of the blue, and she chocked, trying not to sputter java all over him. “Bollocks, I really have to time my comments better if I don’t want to end up dating the dead.” He grimaced at his own attempt at humor.


“Dating?”


“We weren’t—I mean… I thought that’s what we were doing. Of course, if you didn’t… Oh, bollocks!”


“No, no!” She tried to tell him she did; she wanted to. Seeing his crestfallen look, she rushed to explain. “I mean, I did. I do. Dating. Of the good, that. I just didn’t realize… ‘cause you weren’t… we didn’t…” She thought it wrong to yell, “You didn’t kiss me, why didn’t you kiss me?” so instead she opted for a much more mature puckering of her lips, accompanied by smooching noises.


“Oh. Ohhh!” And he just leaned in and gave her the sweetest kiss she’d ever dreamed of. His lips were soft as they glided over hers timidly, seemingly afraid of crossing a line that, unbeknownst to William, Buffy desperately wanted crossed. When he sucked her lower lip between his, she let her tongue slip out and trace his mouth, something that apparently drove him crazy. Timid William was gone in a flash. This version of him lifted her out of her seat and onto his lap to straddle him. One of his hands went to the small of her back, pressing her against his body, the other fisted in her hair, holding her head in place as he started devouring her mouth with something akin to desperation. “Fuck, I’ve been wantin’ to do this for days.”


“What?” she mumbled with a hasty shallow breath.


“Been wantin’ to kiss you so bad, every soddin’ day I saw you here.” His voice was gruff and his accent had switched from the refined British she was familiar with, to a rough accent that turned her on even more than his unbelievable cuteness.


“Why didn’t you?” she asked. More questions later, she decided; now was kissy time.


Apparently, he didn’t see things the same way, because he drew back and ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. “I left England because I screwed up. Didn’ want to screw up again.” Planting a kiss on her nose, he answered the question in her eyes. “Was the wrong woman, and I went in head first. She was married. M’ Mum almost couldn’ take the shame. So I left. Came here and reinvented myself.” He gave her a watery smile. “My real self bleaches his hair, wears lots of leather and smokes. Oh, and his vocabulary?” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Le’s just say he’s a bad, rude man.”


“Can I meet him?”


Her question took him by surprise. “Not sure that’s a good idea. He usually gets me in trouble.” He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. “Won’t you yell at me for lyin’ to you?”


“Nope. I get the whole need to reinvent. That’s what college is all about.” She smiled and then wiggled in his lap. “Can I meet him? Please? I wanna see how much of this William is real.”


“There’s only this William. The bleached guy’s name is Spike.”


“Like for real?” She giggled when he nodded solemnly, then stopped abruptly when he mouthed ‘Buffy’ and cocked both eyebrows.


His expression turned somber. “Know that I never lied to you. There’s just more than what you’ve seen.”


“Ok.” She leaned forward to kiss him again, but his hands in her locks kept her a hair’s breadth away from her target.


“Ok?” He sounded incredulous.


“Ok.”


“Just like that?”


“Yup.” This time she managed to kiss him, if only briefly, taking advantage of his surprise.


He once again stopped what was so much fun for the not so much fun of talking. “Don’t you want to know all about it? Make sure I am who I say I am? That my past is somethin’ you can live with?”


She thought about it for only a second, then said, “I don’t have to live with it. You do. If you’re ok with it, so am I. But I wanna see your other self. Want to get to know the real you. I just don’t need to know everything today.” She shrugged. “Now can we get with the kissing again?”


It just wasn’t meant to be.


Men are so weird. They complain about women bitching and moaning about everything, being nosy, and wanting to have those long talks about feelings and truth… and then they have a woman straddling them, who needs to be kissed and touched, and can wait for the other stuff to be talked about at a later point, and what do they do? They cup said woman’s ass, and just as she is getting happy and thinks they’re going to get with the smoochies again, they use their hold to lower her to her feet as they stand up, and say, “Let’s go.”


Buffy replied the only way she could at the moment. “Huh?”


Grabbing her hand, William started towards the cafeteria’s front door. “You meet Spike, if you like him—if you like me as him, we’ll… get with the kissin’ again.”


She rolled her eyes and followed, awkwardly trying to keep up with his long, determined strides.



~~~~~*~~~~~



When they reached the campus’ parking and she realized they were heading towards an old and battered black Desoto, she came to an abrupt halt, almost making William stumble. “Where exactly are you taking me?”


“Town,” he answered, as if that was the most natural thing in the world.


“I thought you wanted to show me what you used to be like.” She emphasized ‘be’, by drawing an invisible circle around her face with her index finger. “Or are we going for the bad, rude thing? Did that involve bar-brawls? ‘Cause it’s too early in the day for that.”


William leered at her, an expression that should have seemed foreign on the face of a man who had seemed so sensitive and sweet up to mere hours ago, but suited him just fine. More than fine. Buffy wanted to jump him. “It did, but don’ worry, kitten. We’re not goin’ for that.”


“Then what?”


“Got some shoppin’ to do.”


Well, he’d used the magic word, the one that every Valley girl knew to worship and respect. Never question shopping. That was the rule.


“Well then, lead the way!”


He did. He also opened the car door, as a gentleman should. Buffy fell for him a bit more as she buckled up, secretly keeping her fingers crossed that however different his Spike persona was from what she’d seen up to that point, it wouldn’t make the butterflies in her stomach go away.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“OK, for your information, going to a mini-mart does not shopping make.”


William chuckled at how fierce the tiny girl in front of him looked, with her arms crossed and an eyebrow straining to reach her hairline. “How come it doesn’? Aren’ we here to shop?” He feigned innocence.


“But shopping is used for pretty things.” Noticing that the staring-him-down approach didn’t faze him, Buffy went for pouting. That never failed her.


It didn’t fail her now, either, as William wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her flush against him, whispering, “Look at that lip. Gonna get it,” before actually getting it. Only the sound of someone clearing his throat made them pull apart, and Buffy decided then that William must be a lust-demon. One that possibly had haze-inducing abilities, because she had to try to keep upright once he stopped kissing her.


“Can I help you, or are you like here to declare your love or something?” the slightly nasal voice of the store assistant reached her ears. She turned to see a guy, possibly a couple of years younger than her, look at William with admiration. “’Cause a convenience store? Not the most romantic of places. Then again, if you’ve found your Princess Leia-”


William decided it was time to cut in. “No declarations today, mate. Now, be a good boy and help us find what we’re lookin’ for?”


Buffy was sure there was more said as she and her date followed the incessantly chattering guy down an isle, but her brain was stuck on William’s use of today.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“Funny little guy back at the store, huh?” Buffy was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, her legs dangling on the outside, the heels of her feet rhythmically thumping against the tiled surface.


William glowered at her from his perch on the toilet seat, but the look lost its effect since the top of his head was wrapped in a fluffy, thankfully plain white towel, turban-style. “You wouldn’ find him funny if he’d asked for your phone number and called you his Han Solo.”


She couldn’t contain a giggle before saying in a mock-sweet voice, “But Han was so cool! And you must have enjoyed being so obviously lusted after.” That earned her another glare, and what she suspected was a growl. She started laughing even harder, her whole body shaking with it, and had to anchor herself with a steel grip on the tub’s ledge in order not to tumble inside. She didn’t find it all that funny, but she was extremely jittery for so many reasons and needed an outlet for her nerves.


She was in the bathroom of the man she really liked, as in falling-in-love-liked, with said guy. Who was also apparently attracted to her. And only wore a pair of boxer shorts. And had the body of a Greek God as it would have been sculpted by Praxiteles on his most inspired day. Instead of tackling him to the ground and ravaging him, however, she was childishly teasing him.


And when would he take the damned towel off?


As if on cue, William looked at his watch – the motion doing all sorts of delicious things the muscles in his arm – and said, “Think I can rinse it now.”


“Can I help?”


“You’ll have to. I’ll kneel in front of the tub and lean forward. You rinse it well, and then wash it with shampoo.” Realizing that sounded a bit too much like an order, he added, “That is, if you don’ mind.”


Mind that she’d have him on his knees while she massaged his scalp, his naked shoulder touching her leg? “Nope, don’t mind at all.” She was proud of her ability to refrain from doing an impromptu happy-dance. As he started taking the towel off she warned, “If you do that you may get peroxide in your eyes, which, big ouchie. Let me.”


He just shrugged and obediently knelt where she pointed, letting her unwrap his hair while he reached for the faucets, fiddling with the water temperature.


The moment the towel came off, Buffy jumped back and yelled, “Oh no! Crap!”


Her exclamation scared him. “What? Does it look shitty?” He tried not to sound panicked – or girly – and hoped he managed it. He knew peroxide was an evil thing that could turn your hair a phosphorescent yellow if you didn’t time it right.


“No, no, not your hair. My jeans. Crap.”


“What about them?” He thought he already knew, but he couldn’t just turn and look. And his head was burning.


“I got this stuff on them. It’ll ruin the color, have to wash them. Um…”


He could hear the worry in her voice, so he offered a solution, braving the sting on his scalp. “First door on the left is my room. Second drawer in the closet you can get a pair of shorts. Better change your top too, this stuff is sneaky.”


“Thank you.” Relief was evident in her voice, but she didn’t move from next to him.


“Well, go, woman. Before it soaks in.”


“I will, just…” She sounded thoughtful. “Yup,” she said, as if agreeing with herself on an inner debate. “You better turn with your back to the tub, or it could run into your eyes while I’m getting changed.”


“Yes, Mum.”


He chuckled when she lightly toed his ass and said indignantly, “Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”


All changed, having resisted the urge to look through all of his drawers, or maybe sniff his sheets, she returned to the bathroom to pour copious amounts of water on her jeans in the sink, repeatedly saying how she hoped to salvage them. Finally done with that, it was time to do William’s hair, and she had to wonder if that had been a good idea, when she neared him and noticed his hands on his lap, framing his crotch.


Although she was right that throwing his head back was the best way for her to wash his hair, a problem became apparent as soon as she leaned over him to get the showerhead. She was a bit to his left, but still too close to his face. He kept his eyes closed, but he could feel the heat of her body caressing his skin, and his body’s reaction to that was almost instant. After carefully washing his hair twice, when she leaned over him again to put the showerhead back into its holder, he peeked, and the sight had his mouth watering. She wasn’t to his side any more. Her toned, tan legs were outside his, and the top she now wore – one of his very few white wife-beaters – was tight and had gotten splashed, making her nipples stand out through the thin material. Stand out just a couple of inches from his face.


He groaned. Even if William could be a bigger man and ignore the hardened buds, Spike would never pass such an opportunity. And she had asked to meet him.




Tbc.

Chapter 3.



An arm wrapped around her, lightning quick, making Buffy almost lose her footing as hot lips encircled one of her nipples and a hand started gliding up the back of her leg and inside her shorts to cup and knead her ass over her panties. She felt like an idiot, flailing in an effort to keep her balance, not knowing what to do with her own hands, as Spike’s – because this was Spike, she was sure – hand that was on her waist slid under her top and caressed its way to her other breast. He ran his open palm over her nipple in circles and she shivered, trying to find purchase on the edge of the bathtub, as the hand on her ass now teased the line of her panties. He pinched the hardened bud and pressed two fingers against her pussy, and she threw her head back, bucking her hips. “Wait,” she whispered.


He stopped abruptly, withdrawing hands and mouth, to look up into her eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”


She wanted to laugh. Bad, rude man indeed. She opted against it, saying instead, “Oh, no, mister. You so totally should have.” At his perplexed look she explained, “It’s just slippery. The floor. And with you… you know, I was afraid I’d fall on my ass.”


He chuckled and took hold of her hips, lowering her on his lap. He bent his knees behind her back, and slipping a hand up her leg and inside her shorts again said in a sultry tone, “Now, where were we?”


She could feel him hard underneath her and couldn’t resist grinding against him, letting him know how wet she was. He groaned and she covered his lips with hers, swallowing the sound.


The more she writhed on him, the bolder he got. The hand in her shorts fiddled with the edge of her panties before pushing the material aside, so that his fingers could trace her folds. He tugged on her top with his other hand, and she let go of his shoulders, where she was holding on for dear life, to help him get rid of it. She wasn’t wearing a bra, which he knew, but now it was obvious she was used to not wearing a bikini top either. There were no tan lines marring the perfect light bronze of her skin, and he had to draw some of his own. He ran his tongue along the underside of one perfect globe, relishing the way her back arched as he kept rubbing and pinching the tip of the other. His mouth drew ever-narrowing circles until it reached her nipple and sucked it between his lips, at the same time thrusting his hips upward and pushing two fingers inside her pussy.


Hearing her own whimper, Buffy decided she had been passive for too long. Taking hold of the tub behind him with one hand, she lifted her hips, pushing back, so his fingers could go even deeper inside her. She nuzzled his neck, licking along his jugular and grazing it with her teeth, and when he responded with a moan, she sucked his flesh inside her mouth and bit down on it, not too hard, but not gently either.


“God, Buffy...” His fingers were now thrusting inside her in earnest, and the feel of her pussy around them and her teeth on his neck were driving him crazy. He wanted more. Wanted to be inside her.


She smirked and ran the fingernails of her free hand down his pecs and abdomen, making every curve of muscle her fingers mapped coil and tighten, his skin felt like it was on fire under her touch. She took her time, getting to know the planes of his upper body while she fucked his hand.


Spike realized he was still cupping her breast, but the sensory assault of Buffy’s thumb tracing circles on his hipbone had caused his hand to fall idle. His hips thrust upward of their own accord, his cock craving the friction her position denied him.


She did better than offer him friction.


Getting his shaft out the opening of his boxers with an appreciative widening of her eyes at how she couldn’t quite circle it with her hand, she swivelled her hips to drive his fingers out of her, and positioned herself so that the head of his cock just touched her opening.


Once more, his lower body thrust towards her, but she raised hers, so that he couldn’t enter her. His hands flew to her hips, not pushing her down, just holding her, and he turned his face upwards in a silent prayer. He didn’t know how long he’d last before his need for her overcame his chivalry and he impaled her on her cock.


He didn’t get to find out. She let go of the tub, twisting her fingers in his newly-bleached hair to bring him to her for a fierce kiss and let her body slide down around him, engulfing his length in one long stroke.


She was so wet, and still he felt her so tight around him that he thought he might die if he didn’t come at once. He gritted his teeth, and, not allowing her time enough to completely adjust to his girth, raised her until only the first inch of him was still inside her and then pulled her back down, at the same time driving his pelvis upwards. She let out a gruff moan that turned him on even more and he could no longer even think about taking it slowly.


His hips were pumping against her, his cock stretching her just this side of pain, and all she could think of was that she wanted more. She met his thrusts with equal fervor, biting his lips, sucking on his tongue, as he twisted and pinched her nipples roughly with one hand, the other digging into the flesh of her ass to lead her movements.


She was close. She just needed an extra nudge to get her over the edge. Her hand flew to where their bodies were joined and pressed on her clit, just as one of his fingers, wet with her juices, pushed inside her second hole. “Oh God! Oh God, William!” she cried out, as her body trembled, tensing and bowing with pleasure.


If the visual of her taking her release into her own hands, hair tangled, head thrown back as her nimble fingers worked her into an orgasm wasn’t enough to make him come, the feel of her around him was.


Her rhythm slowed for a split second as she caught her breath, then turned into a gallop. Her thighs trembled, her inner muscles squeezed him even more, her butt cheeks clenched around his finger and still she didn’t cease riding him for all she was worth.


“Fuck, I’m coming.” A coherent sliver of brain still left in his head screamed about lack of contraception, and he barely managed to lift her off him in time for his spendings to cover her stomach and breasts, some of it ending up on her hand.


Buffy smiled saucily and brought her fingers to her mouth, to lick and suck them clean as his dazed eyes followed every move of her naughty pink tongue.


“God, woman!”


“What? What?” she widened her eyes innocently, while he chuckled and rolled them so he was on top before kissing her and tasting himself on her lips.


“Evil beyond belief. And you’re mine.”


“Oh really?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Doggy-tag and everything? Oh, or do I get a brand?”


He started tickling her. “Say it.”


“No. I have to shower. Can’t think.” He growled against her neck and she kicked her feet in the air, giggling. “Hey! Can’t enter into binding agreements when not fully alert!”


He jumped up, saying, “You’re right,” before scooping her up, placing her in the tub and running the shower at full blast.



~~~~~*~~~~~



She stretched when she heard the door open, and the covers rode lower on her body, revealing a perky breast. Spike wanted nothing more than to drop breakfast and jump her, but he knew what game she was playing, and went along with her. “Coffee is served, ma’am.”


She hummed and stretched again, this time pulling the sheet off a golden leg. When she flipped on her stomach, he itched to spank or bite the flesh there. Still, he kept his calm, despite his hard on, and neared the bed. “Open those pretty greens, kitten. Got your mocha for you.


“Ohhh! Coffee!” She flipped on her back again, finally dislodging everything that covered her body and he leered.


“You know you have to come closer to drink it, right?” He sat next to her and she stretched once more, eyeing his nudity from between half-closed eyelids.


“I want you to bring it closer,” she said with a pout, spreading her legs, and he grinned before draping his body over hers.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy loved waking up to fresh ground coffee in the morning, especially when that coffee was brought to her in bed. Even more so when it was delivered by a hunky man with bitable buttocks and no clothes on.


Luckily, that exact kind of man had been bringing her favorite mocha coffee to her in bed for the past week. And then making love to her.


And he cooked lunch on occasion too.




The End