For Mefiant

Just deserts

“Hold still!”

“It tickles,” Buffy pouted, her bottom lip sticking out invitingly.

Spike stilled, nestled between her legs where he’d been drawing slow, teasing patterns on the sensitive inside of her thigh. His gaze narrowed, the intent stare of a predator marking its prey. Faster than she could react he’d launched himself, a thick swipe of passionfruit body-butter coating that delectable lip before his mouth closed upon it, licking and nibbling at the sweet flesh, and causing a fresh round of giggles as their butter coated bodies slid heedlessly across the slick satin sheets and on to the floor.