Buffy and Spike stood on their front porch as they kissed and hugged their respective parents goodbye as they left for their vacation in the South of France. The step siblings would soon have two weeks with full rein of the house before Spike left for college. As Joyce and Giles waved to their children and got into the car, they smiled at one another. They really did have such well behaved children and were glad that they seemed to get along so well.
What they didn’t know was that Buffy and Spike, who’d only been step siblings for the past four years, had gotten along so well in the beginning, that they had to restrain themselves from doing something incredibly wrong. And that just happened to be the fact that both of them wanted each other. Badly.
The initial attraction when their parents first started dating had been a test in restraint that neither of them voiced, though if those sidelong glances and flirtatious smiles were anything to go on, the feeling was mutual. But their parents were married and therefore, it was a hands-off situation. Well, hands-on when they were alone and desperate to find release, teasing one another through their adjoining bedroom walls with the promising sounds of what they could have together, but there had been no outright conversation about it. If they talked about it, if voicing their attraction ever bore fruit, well, it wouldn’t be long before they’d reach the point of no return.
And now there were two weeks staring them in the face like a big shiny red panic button, daring them to touch it and sit back to watch the fireworks. That button became even more tempting to push when Spike closed the front door and turned towards Buffy with a sexy grin and said, “I feel like takin’ a swim. How about you, sister?”
Oh, she loved it when he called her that. It was never casual, never natural like a brother would say. He said it like it was a sin, like merely uttering the word gave him a hard on. She shrugged her shoulders and brushed past him, feeling his eyes peeling the tiny shorts she wore off her ass as she swayed her hips. “Maybe later. I’m gonna take a shower and then watch some TV.”
“Suit yourself,” he sighed and pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it at her back. She turned around with a playful grin and leaned over to pick up his tee, ignoring that muscled and toned chest of his that she knew he was showing off and twirled the shirt until it was a fine rope and snapped it forward, catching him on the arm with a stinging slap. “Ow! You bitch, that hurt!”
She giggled and turned towards the stairs, yelping when he darted behind her and grabbed her at the waist, pulling her off the steps. “Spike! Put me down!” She was laughing as he held her up and she swatted at his arms with the t-shirt.
“Fine,” he said and unceremoniously dropped her on the floor, laughing at her stunned expression. He turned around victoriously and shouted when she slapped him on the ass with her tiny hand. He closed his eyes and smirked, slowly turning to face her. “Oh, Buffy…you are so dead.”
Her eyes were alight with mischief, panting and licking her lips as she waited for him to charge. It was childish, and it was Friday, which meant that Buffy and Spike were going to work out their sexual frustrations with playground violence. Sometimes he pulled her hair, sometimes she bit him, but it always ended with an awkward silence, a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife until one of them made up a lame excuse to get away from the other before it went any further.
“Shouldn’t shake your ass then,” she smiled, wisely hiding behind the sofa for the inevitable chase that was sure to happen.
He waited. He liked catching her off guard, liked making her anticipate it, let her heart rate increase as he stared at her deviously. He made a fake lunge and she squealed, just like he knew she would, and then he chuckled wickedly, taking slow predatory steps towards her as her weight shifted from foot to foot, getting ready to run, keeping her gorgeous green eyes locked with his steely blue gaze. Fuck, he loved this girl.
In breakneck speed, he was around the sofa and grabbed a fistful of her tank top and yanked her back towards his chest, slinked one arm between her legs and the other around her shoulders and lifted her up. She was laughing and kicking as he sat down on the sofa with her sprawled over his lap. “Think you can spank me, do you?”
“Spike, stop,” she laughed, her chest squirming against his arm and then she squealed as his hand grabbed the waistband of her cotton shorts. “Oh my God, no! NO!”
“Yes, yes!” he said with a laugh and pulled on them a bit to tease her.
“Spike, I’m not kidding,” she said desperately, her voice strained from the awkward position he had her trapped in. “I’m not wearing panties!”
“Oooh,” he drawled, “that means it’ll sting more.” He yanked her shorts down and exposed her ass and spanked her hard. “That’s for the t-shirt!” Another spank. “And that’s for running!”
Buffy squealed and squirmed with every slap he delivered, trying her hardest not to moan.
“And this one’s for me,” he whispered in her ear and squeezed one rosy red cheek, his fingers dangerously close to her sex, smiling when her breath caught in her throat and the room grew deathly quiet. He saw her move a bit, her legs spread just slightly and that invitation was his cue to bring his hand down one last time, give it all he had and make her scream in pain. Then he released her and she stumbled as she stood up, pulling her shorts up and glaring at him through her ponytail which had flipped forward from their wrestling.
“You asshole,” she spat, smiling anyway because he was so damn insufferable, sitting on their sofa only wearing his swimming trunks and a smirk. Fuck, she loved this boy.
“You know it,” he said with a grunt as he stood up and walked to the back yard to jump into the reality check that was their swimming pool.
The next morning, Spike was sitting at the island in their kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal and reading a book after his morning jog. He heard Buffy padding into the room and open up the fridge. Without swallowing his cereal or looking up he said, “Mornin’. Get enough beauty rest?”
Buffy pulled out the crate of orange juice and drank from the box as she shut the fridge door. “Of course,” she said cheekily. “God, Spike, get a towel.”
“What?” he said innocently. He hadn’t showered after his run and knew he was drenched, but he also knew the effect his sweaty chest had on her and hoped to see that gorgeous blush of hers. “Sweat’s manly.” She didn’t seem impressed this morning and he pursed his lips in irritation.
“Uh huh,” she rolled her eyes and backed away from the island and when she did, Spike’s spoonful of cereal halted midway to his lips as he saw what she was wearing. A tiny yellow camisole and white mesh boy-short panties that left little to the imagination. Apparently, Buffy went bareback. He felt something wet on his crotch and realized he’d spilled his cereal all over his lap.
“Shit,” he muttered and grabbed the roll of paper towels to start cleaning himself off.
“Look who’s got an eating disorder,” she giggled and opened the fridge to put the juice back in its proper place and leaned over to grab an apple from the veggie drawer which happened to be at the very bottom. Spike groaned audibly. She often walked around in her skivvies and it drove him crazy. But with the see-through panties…and the bending…and the messy bed hair…he might just lose his bloody mind.
“Yeah, well,” he retorted lamely and lifted his bowl to his lips to drink the last bit of milk, groaning again when she turned around and he saw her hardened nipples straining against the thin cotton of her camisole, forcing him to choke on the milk and he sputtered, dropping his bowl on the island as he coughed and pounded his chest with his fist.
Buffy’s eyes grew in worry and she ran over to him, slapping him on the back. “Are you ok?”
He nodded frantically, even though he was still choking but good Lord, she was up against him in those clothes and he couldn’t take it much longer. If she wasn’t careful, he might be bending her over the island and chewing through those poor excuses for panties she was wearing until he was nose deep in her pussy.
“You got milk all over you,” she pouted and used her hand to wipe his chest clean and when that didn’t work, she grabbed a paper towel and dried him off. Her innocent touches on his bare flesh were causing quite a commotion in his pants and if she didn’t stop, they’d both be embarrassed.
“I’m ok, I can clean myself,” he said weakly, furrowing his brow at her odd expression. Her eyes were focused on his neck and he saw the battle within her gaze, as if she was struggling to make a move. Her chest heaved and her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and she leaned so close to him that he could smell the chlorine in her hair from when she’d finally joined him in the pool the night before.
“Missed a spot,” she whispered, locking her eyes with his as she brought her mouth dangerously close to his, daring him with her nearness and then she ducked her head and licked a trail of milk off his neck, moaning sweetly when she pulled away. “Got it,” she smiled seductively and turned around, leaving him standing in the kitchen with the mother of all hard ons. She stretched her arms over her head as she walked away, showing off her delicious ass and he bit his fist to stifle his whimpering. That was bloody it. She wanted to tease him? Bring it on. Spike wasn’t up to losing at this game.
“I’m bored.”
“You’re always bored, Spike.”
“But now I’m really, really bored. Let’s do something.”
“We could watch TV.”
“We could also not watch TV.”
“Well, Spike, since you’re the one who’s bored, what do you want to do?”
“Let’s play a game,” he said casually, already knowing the game he had in mind. Thankfully, she’d put on shorts but she was still wearing that camisole of hers and sitting like a bowl of candy on the couch next to him.
“Like what?”
“Truth or dare.”
She smiled and chewed on her thumb, narrowing her eyes. “Are you fourteen?”
“No,” he scoffed. “It’s more fun when you’re older. More creative,” he winked.
“Ok. But you’re asking for it.”
“Yes, I am,” he grinned. “All right, who goes first?”
“You first. Truth or dare?”
He pretended to think for a minute as he tossed a throw pillow in the air and caught it. “Truth.”
“Ok, then. How many girls have you slept with?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know the answer to that. Still two.”
“Really? No one since—”
”No,” he barked, not wanting to go any further.
“But that was like, six months ago.”
“I know how bloody long ago it was! Truth or dare,” he said angrily, wanting to get back to the original plan, which was to tease her into madness.
She smiled. “Truth.”
“How big was Angel’s cock?”
She giggled. “Gay.”
“I’m not gay! Answer the question!”
“Um…six inches? I think?”
Spike chuckled. “Figures.”
“Please tell me that wasn’t some sad ploy for you to tell me how big your cock is?”
He pursed his lips and glared at her. Stupid, smart bitch.
“Because I already know how big it is,” she smiled and crossed her legs on the coffee table.
He gasped. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Harmony told me.”
That was the biggest lie he’d ever heard. Harmony never saw his bits because after she’d shoved her tongue down his throat at Lindsay’s party last month, he promptly pushed her drunk ass away. “What did she tell you?”
“Nope, my turn. Truth or dare.”
His tongue tucked behind his lower lip as he considered the blonde next to him. “Dare.”
“I dare you to…” she trailed off as she looked around the living room. “I dare you to kiss my feet.” She lifted one foot to his face and wiggled her bare toes.
“Disgusting!”
“They are not! I just took a shower.”
“Fine,” he sighed and grabbed her foot and brought it to his mouth. He was going to just kiss it and set her free but then he thought the better of it. “You suck at Truth or Dare,” he smiled and slowly licked the arch of her foot, up to her big toe and drew it into his mouth. Her lips parted and she started panting, unable to look away from him as she felt his warm tongue rolling around her toe. One scarred eyebrow lifted challengingly at her when she shuddered. She jerked her foot away just before she let out a moan. “Truth or dare, pet,” he said silkily, smiling like the jerk he was.
She took a moment to collect herself before she said, “Truth.”
“Did that turn you on?”
Her heart pounded against her chest and her cheeks warmed. This was the first time they’d ever spoken about their flirting and she didn’t know how to respond. “Um…”
“Tell me the truth.” He was moving closer to her, his eyes letting her know that it definitely turned him on.
“Maybe. Truth or dare!” she said quickly, desperate to change the subject even though her panties were already soaked with wanting him.
“Dare. Always a dare from now on.” And there was that silky, sleepy voice of his that drove her insane.
Should she? God, should she? Maybe she could make it sound vague and then it wouldn’t be so obvious. “I dare you to…do something that you shouldn’t do but you’re dying to do.”
Now that was a dare if he’d ever heard one. It was chock-full of possibilities and by the blush on her cheeks and the glint in her eyes, she knew exactly what he wanted to do. He stood up and held out his hand. “Gotta go somewhere else for this one, luv.”
She stared at his hand and panted, knowing that if she took it, everything would change. She’d offered and she couldn’t be a coward now. Buffy wanted Spike just as much as he wanted her, it was obvious now. She tentatively placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her off the couch and she followed him into the kitchen. She cursed her lungs for needing such large quantities of air, cursed her hands for trembling, cursed her step brother for taking his sweet time to do whatever he was going to do.
Spike placed his arms on her shoulders and spun her around, pushing her up against the island. Then his hands slid down her arms and grabbed her wrists, forcing her to grab the far edge of the table top in front of her. She gasped from the sharp movement that had lurched her forward and then he was breathing in her ear. He didn’t move and neither did she, but she felt his cock pressing against her ass and his lips hovering over her neck. She wished he’d move, wished he’d do something. The anticipation was killing her.
Then his fingers were dipping behind the waistband of her shorts at her back, tracing the edge around to her sides and violently yanking them down, down to mid thigh and he moaned appreciatively. She dropped her head forward, resting it on the island table and arched her back, begging him to touch her. When he did, when his strong hands swept over her ass, a hoarse cry tore from her throat and she bit her lip to stifle the sound.
His fingers were so close to where she wanted them, gently trailing up her inner thighs, teasing her mercilessly. His thumb grazed her folds and she shuddered, wanting him to slide something, anything inside her and take away the ache he’d created. And then he spoke.
“Do you want me to stop?” Fuck, his lips were on her ass. Her step brother’s gorgeous lips were on her ass and he was whispering, asking if she wanted him to stop.
“No,” she said quietly. She yelped when his hand cracked against her round flesh.
“I didn’t hear you! Tell me you want me to fuck you, Buffy. Tell me!”
“Yes! God, please, yes!”
He smiled gratefully. “Thank you.” And then he was gone, leaving her panting on the kitchen island with her pants around her legs and her pussy begging him to return.
“What?” She stood up and he was already in the living room, sitting on the sofa. The bastard. She pulled her shorts up and stomped into the living room. “What the hell was that?”
He looked at her innocently, even though he had a throw pillow over his lap to hide his erection. “I just did my dare, Buffy. You asked me to do something I shouldn’t do but I was dying to do. And I did it.”
“Stand up,” she growled.
“Excuse me?”
“I said stand up!”
Spike stood and walked over to her, glaring at her. Then she slapped him so hard across the face he almost fell. “What the hell?”
She tried to run up the stairs but he grabbed her arm and twirled her around. She raised her free hand to strike him and he clutched her wrist and held her against him. “What is your problem? You were the one with the milk this morning!”
“My problem,” she squirmed, “is you! Don’t you ever, ever do that again! Let me go!”
“Are you sure you want me to let you go?”
Her answer was a kick to his shin and he howled, releasing her as he jumped to ward off the sting. “Don’t run up those stairs,” he shouted as she did just that and with a groan he ran after her. “Buffy, Buffy, Buffy-no!” Damn, she slammed her bedroom door in his face. “Open the door, please? I’m sorry.”
“You are not, now go away!”
He let out a frustrated sigh and banged his head against her door. “Please open the door.” She didn’t answer him and after a long moment, he knew she was crying. Shit. “Buffy, don’t cry. Please open the door. Can we talk about this?”
“I hate you.”
“You do not. I’m a git an’ I’m sorry I crossed the line. I can’t take it when you cry, please?”
She was standing on the other side of the door, pouting. “What is this?”
“I don’t know,” he picked at the chipped paint on the door. “But I’m tired of dancing around this.”
“I am too,” she sniffled. “And you’re leaving me.”
Now she was really crying and Spike felt like an asshole. “I won’t be that far away.”
“Yes you will be! You’ll be hours away with all the hot college girls and I’ll be stuck here doing temp work or something equally stupid because I couldn’t get accepted at UCLA.”
“It’s a three hour drive.”
“Like you’d come back to Sunnydale to see your sister.”
Oh, that pouty voice was going to kill him. “I would if…”
“If what?” Hoping was bad. Hoping for more was very, very bad but she couldn’t help but press him for more of that sentence.
“You know what. An’ I’m not havin’ this conversation with the door.”
She took a brave intake of breath and opened the door, leaning against the frame and ducking her head so he couldn’t see her red-rimmed eyes. “This is wrong, you know.”
“I don’t fucking care how wrong it is! Buffy, you know I love you.”
She looked up at him then, her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of his vulnerable expression. “You do?”
“God, yes,” he sighed. There it was. He’d laid it all out for her to see, every ugly desire he had for her, how it had grown into something so big he couldn’t keep it hidden any longer. “I’ll understand if you don’t.”
“Are you kidding me?” She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into her bedroom, crashing her lips against his.
“Oh, Buffy,” he moaned, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up as her tongue slid across his and walked them to the bed. They hit the edge and rolled to the floor, landing with a loud thud and they laughed, but only for a moment before their lips collided again. And fuck, the way she felt against him was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He kissed and nipped and pawed at every inch of flesh he’d been obsessing over for four years, eliciting loud, lust-filled moans from his step sister with every one. He pushed her camisole over her tits and sucked a nipple into his mouth, groaning as her hips rubbed against his cock.
“I lied about Harmony,” she panted, tugging his shirt over his shoulders.
“I know,” he smiled, licking her nipples ardently and shoving his hand down her shorts to grab her ass.
“I saw you in the shower last month,” she cried out as he ground into her, “touching yourself. God, you looked so sexy and I…and I,” oh shit, her shorts were gone, “I had to run into the bedroom and get myself off.”
“Oh, Buffy,” he rumbled against her neck, sliding his fingers over her creamy folds, fumbling beneath her panties to get a better angle.
“Take them off,” she pleaded and lifted her hips so he could yank them down her hips. He hurriedly obliged her, panting and chewing on his lips as he stared at her perfect pink mound. “I know you want to lick me,” she said with an arrogant grin, spreading her legs for him.
“You have no idea.” He hooked his hands beneath her knees and spread her even wider and lunged forward, sucking her labia into his hot mouth and she shouted his name when he moved upwards to her clit and sucked harder. “Fuck you taste so good,” he mumbled, shoving his tongue into her entrance like a man starved. His hands dropped to her waist and his fingers dug into her flesh, his brow furrowed as he lapped at her pussy and Buffy was on the edge of one hell of an orgasm. She’d dreamed about this, fucked herself to this very image so many times and now he was there, his face buried between her legs and his lips and tongue doing things she’d only read about.
“Oh, Spike, oh my God!”
He hummed and cooed his praise, bringing his fingers into the mix and pumping them eagerly inside her. As soon as he brought his other hand to tease her second entrance, gently rubbing it in slow circles until he pressed his thumb into her ass, she jerked her hips forward and shouted. “That’s it,” he said in a low voice, pumping two fingers in her quivering pussy and one in her ass, his lips teasing her clit. God, she was gorgeous. “Come for me. And come real quick because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t breathe.”
“Oh, GOD!” White hot heat shot through her body as tears streamed down her cheeks and her inner walls clenched in praise. She’d never felt anything like that before and her body was still humming, still craving him. His mouth was trailing up her stomach and his fingers gently pulled out of her. If he thought he was going to tease her some more, he was sadly mistaken. “Spike, take your pants off right now.”
“Bossy.”
“Do it!” She was so not kidding.
He removed his jogging pants with lightning speed and moved on top of her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I can’t believe I’m about to…fuck, Buffy.” His lips were on hers and she moaned at the taste of herself on his mouth, moaned again when the tip of his cock nudged her entrance. And then he slid all the way in and she cried out from the sensation of him, filling her to the brink. “Oh, Christ,” he whimpered.
“You…you’re…oh, God,” she arched her neck back and smiled beatifically when he moved inside her, slowly gliding his large shaft in and out at a leisurely pace, twisting his hips and hitting a spot within her that set her core on fire.
“Tell me,” he whispered against her neck. “Tell me how it feels. Oh, shit…”
“Like the most wrongest thing I’ve ever done,” she laughed, taking his thumb and sucking it into her mouth as his eyelashes fluttered.
“Most wrongest, huh? Think I figured out why you didn’t get into UCLA, luv,” he grinned and pivoted his hips as he thrust hard, his eyes watching his finger disappear behind her perfect lips.
“Jerk! Oh, fuck me!”
Slow and steady turned into hard and fast and he grabbed her hip with one hand, clutched the bed with the other and drove her into the ground. The sounds of their flesh slapping against one another was muffled by their frantic pants and moans. “So tight, oh shit I’m not gonna last, Buffy…fuck!”
“Me…either, oh yes! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!”
That was almost enough to make him come right there but he did as she asked, slamming his pelvis forward and grinding on the down stroke, rubbing her clit with every intrusion and she closed her eyes and grunted, feeling it bubbling inside her, so close.
“Yes! Yes! Oh god, Spike!”
“You like that, sister? You like your brother’s cock in that tight pussy of yours?”
That’s what did it. “I love you! Fuck! Fuck! Yes!”
He growled and slammed into her hard, burying his mouth in her throat as they both came, their hips twitching involuntarily, seeking just a bit more friction as their bodies calmed and sank back into reality. He kissed her tenderly then, brushing her hair out of her face and wiggling his hips a bit to keep from smothering her. That little movement of his was enough to melt her heart.
“Spike?”
“Mmhmm,” he mumbled as he busied himself by licking and kissing her neck.
“You’re getting an apartment and not a dorm, right?”
He chuckled wickedly against her throat. “Why, thinkin’ of coming to visit? Mmm, you smell good.”
“Would you mind?”
He looked at her then, kissing her on the forehead. “You said you love me.”
“Because I do.”
“Then hell no, I don’t mind. And miss this sweet puss of yours?” he said pointedly as he thrust into her again, smiling arrogantly down at her when she moaned beneath him.
“I dare you to make me come five more times tonight.”
He chuckled and she decided that was probably the best sound in the world. “Double dare me?”
She smiled sweetly at him. “I double dog dare you.”
“Well, since you put it that way…I guess I have to.”
“Oh my GOD!”
“Oh yeah, kitten,” he smiled above her, hissing as she squeezed him from the inside. “Let’s make it six more.”
Buffy closed her eyes and grinned. “Seven.”
Challenge Requirements:
3 Must Haves:
Daytime Sex (Indoors, Outdoors…)
Game of Truth or Dare
Spike drenched in sweat
3 Can’t Haves:
Masturbation
Heavy Angst
Post-Sex Regrets
So...how'd I do? *bats eyelashes*