Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

Buffy was entirely grateful that the Slayer package included speed to match that of a vampire’s when she caught sight of a black and white blur disappearing near the Bronze.  At least she finally knew where he would be, and in a burst of adrenaline she sprinted after him.  He was waiting at his apartment with his door open, leaning up against the doorjamb with a wicked, leering grin on his lips.

 

“Not sure what I can do for ya today, Slayer.  Gotta rest up for tonight.”

 

She stopped in front of him, gasping for breath and cursing the same Slayer package that didn’t give her the vampire skill of not being winded from a distant sprint, until she realised that would make her dead.  Huh! Can’t win ‘em all!

 

“Oh?  What plans did you have for tonight?”  That bottom lip pouted at him again and she grinned on the inside at his focused concentration on it.

 

“Important stuff.  The Scoobies invited me out to the Bronze.”

 

The pout turned automatically into a frown.

 

“It isn’t safe for you to be out and about.  Riley could recognise you at any mo….” Her voice died as her eyes widened in fear and alarm. “Oh my God, I told him you were a vampire.  He’ll be looking for you.”

 

When she mentioned Riley’s name Spike’s eyes flashed angrily, but he hauled the Demon back in and grabbed her in a hug instead of berating her.

 

“We are goin’ to sort the Initiative out soon, pet.  Finn won’t get a chance to hurt me.  Besides, we’re back together and while we are he can’ get near me.  He doesn’ know where I live.  It’ll be fine.  ‘Specially the sooner you come in and we can shut the bleeding door.”  His brow raised in question and she flushed puce at the first thought that streaked through her mind.

 

“Ah, I thought you needed some sleep.”  She swiped his lips flirtatiously with her finger as she followed him over the threshold and the door swung closed behind her.

 

He held one hand, raising it to suck erotically on her pointy finger as he dragged her, walking backwards, toward the bed.  A quick glance behind him reminded him that he hadn’t made it for a few days, too angry at her to bother, and certainly not thinking when he stepped out last night to back her up with The Gentlemen that she would be returning with him.  He shrugged his shoulders.  For the plans he had, a made bed would be wasted.

 

Her eyes closed involuntarily when he closed his lips over a second finger and the strong sucking pressure of his tongue on her digits reminded her of other places where his tongue created magic.  Her stomach shifted on another wave of lust.  He pulled the fingers from his mouth with a pop and her eyes fluttered back open to look at him in a daze.  He still held her arm suspended out in front of her and as his hand loosened its grip she let it fall to his fabric-covered chest.  Buffy scrunched her face in disbelief.  ‘That T-shirt has to go’, she determined and before Spike could offer a preventative shout, she had torn it clean down the middle and was tugging it down his arms.  He let out a feral growl as he grabbed her around the waist and launched them both at the bed.  He twisted gracefully in the air so that he landed on top of her and their mouths fused.  She tried to wrap her arms around him but he would have none of that.  She had started the violence by sacrificing his favourite T-shirt, thus she would have to suffer the consequences.

 

Her eyes shot open in alarm, unaware that she had spoken aloud during her destructive act.  “But every T-shirt you have is exactly the same!” She tried to reason with him.

 

“Not true, Slayer.”

 

She gave him a pointed, sad look, and he amended.

 

“Not true, Buffy.” And though he had drawn her arms above her head and held her wrists in a firm grip, he claimed her lips with gentleness born from extreme devotion.  Their tongues swirled together, tasting and licking each other into blissful reunion, eager to catch up on the sensuality they had been denying themselves for the past week.  Her body was pinned flat to the bed, his positioned limb to limb against hers so that she was unable to move out from beneath him.  But she could wriggle, and so wriggle she did, smiling into the kiss when his stiffening shaft became rock hard against her.  The smile turned into a hungry groan and she opened her mouth wide, attacking his lips almost savagely so that her message could not be misinterpreted.  She wanted more, much more.  And she needed it now.

 

His grip loosened, allowing her to capture her fingers in his hair and she marvelled at how soft it was once she worked out the gel, letting his adorable curls begin to spring forth.

 

With a thought that seemed urgent she wrenched her lips away from his.

 

“I know it was a bad time and all, but when you were in the basement of the high school after getting your soul back, you know, all unhygienic and stuff, your hair was longer.”

 

“Yeah?  Didn’t have a mirror,” he deadpanned.  She looked at him with a poker face for all of two seconds before her face split and she let forth a round of hysterical giggles.

 

“Take my word for it, blondie.  It was longish, kinda shaggy, with the peroxide almost grown out so that only the tips were white, and it was all curly.  Man, you looked hot.”  Her voice became tinged with admiration with a touch of passion.

 

“Really?”  He quirked a brow at her in fascination.

 

“Oh yeah.  Completely ravishable.”

 

“So, what?  You want me to grow my hair out?”  He looked at her as if she were crazy.

 

“Oh, absolutely.  And then when you tried to come out of the basement and dressed different?”

 

His eyebrow hovered just under his hairline, suddenly extremely apprehensive about her increasing fervour to turn him into her Ken doll.

 

“What?  The Leather?”

 

“Ohhh yeahhh…” she sighed, horniness making her arousal fragrant and he was hard pressed to keep his hands to himself till they had sorted out her makeover euphoria.

 

“And the blue shirt. Clingy.  Where’d you get that stuff anyway?” she asked absent-mindedly, her eyes glazing over in lust. He wasn’t sure she actually required an answer as she was obviously lost in the future created memory of him wearing leather and blue.

 

“Not sure,” he offered anyway.  “Probably not somewhere good.”  His voice was tinged with sadness.

 

Her eyes blinked back into focus and she forgot about how that blue top molded to his body in favour of actually ogling said body.  She licked her lips in hunger as her hand caressed the skin on one shoulder and drifted downward toward his chest, pinching his nipple hard.  He shivered and moaned, and in his distraction she pounced.  In one fluid move she had reversed their positions and he now lay underneath her.  She straddled his hips, happily grinding her steaming pussy into his hard cock and bent forward, running her tongue first over a hardened nipple, down, down to dip into the smooth arcs of his waved abdominal muscles.  Her body flashed hot and the cool surface of his skin against her fiery mouth did little to quench her need.

 

Her mouth made it to his throat and she grabbed hold of a patch of skin and sucked hard, her still covered breasts brushing inappropriately against the hard wall of his chest as he arched upwards in ecstasy, little darts of desire shooting directly downwards.

 

“More,” he called as the pressure of her mouth lessened, and she smiled before capturing his mouth again for a too brief kiss.

 

“I know someplace better I can suck,” she told him conspiratorially and he sucked in a breath of fierce anticipation.

 

She allowed her body to move down till the buckle of his belt was exposed.  In his bliss he lay motionless and she knew it would be up to her to get him naked if she wanted it to happen soon.  Once unfastened, the first button came undone almost as if by will alone and within seconds, his pants were dragged down and off his legs; his glorious cock standing proudly waiting for her praise.  Her eyes grew in sudden apprehension, wondering what the best way to tackle this new experience would be.  She lowered her head in determined intent then, mere centimetres from the smooth plane, she hesitated, knowing inherently the angle was all wrong.  She tilted her head left, then right in silent contemplation, before darting down quickly and swiping her tongue over the flattened bell at the top, curving around the slit that already secreted his flavour.  Wrapping a hand around his length, she dipped her lips again to the head and slid the edge of her tongue inside the slit, gathering up his fluid and warming internally at his tortured growl.  In an abrupt movement of confidence she enclosed all of the head within her mouth and sucked hard, allowing a few centimetres of his cock to further invade her mouth.  Loosening her grip slightly she allowed the length to glide past her tongue and down her throat, stopping when she sensed her gag reflex about to kick in.

 

Below her Spike began to writhe in pleasurable discomfort, hands entangling in her hair as she energetically bobbed up and down, allowing saliva to coat her lips and smoothing the ride.  Her fingers found his balls almost in surprise and she took them gently to hand, loving the feel of the smooth skin and the heaviness of his sac.  She moaned, becoming more and more turned on by her selfless act but knowing all to well how he liked to reciprocate.

 

“Buffy!”  His urgent call shocked her out of her lusty daze and she looked at him wondering what was wrong and nearly gagged as the flow of his cum invaded her mouth.  ‘Oh,’ she thought, the corners of her mouth tilting up in catlike satisfaction, and she drank him up voraciously.  As the lust continued to thunder in her ears she allowed him time to come down from the high he had disappeared to and lapped happily at the remaining fluid on his cock.  When she had finished she lay beside him, her smile happy and loving.  They looked into each other’s eyes, Spike’s a little dazzled, as she played again with his hair.  They lay close enough to gently nibble on the other’s lips, still looking intently into each other’s eyes, never wanting the intimacy to diminish. But reality set in as his eyes began to droop, and she realised they were both tired, but groaned and flopped backwards when she knew she didn’t have the luxury of sleeping.  Classes called, and Willow really shouldn’t be left to face Professor Walsh on her own.

 

Not wanting to give up play quite yet, Buffy rubbed her fully clothed body against Spike’s naked one and displayed the pout that had become a frequent feature so far today.

 

“Did you want something, pet?” he asked, a smile teasing his sexy lips as his lids drifted determinedly shut.

 

She took pity on him and smiled happily.  She had him back.  That was all she wanted.

 

“Yeah,” she replied, satisfaction heavy in her voice.  “You!”  She kissed him softly then prepared to leave.  He grabbed her wrist in a lightening move as she had crawled off the bed.

 

“Where you goin’?” His voice was weary, barely coherent but he tried to cling to wakefulness for a little while longer to know where she was heading off to.

 

“I have classes,” she explained patiently, rubbing her hand soothingly over his brow and taking a blanket to cover him. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

“Okay.  Be good, baby. Love you.”  And he slept, his body stilling as in death.  She refrained from squealing, her heart so full of emotion that her body trembled.  ‘He called me baby again’, and she almost floated out of the apartment on a dreamy cloud of achievement.  She finally had all she wanted, and nothing upon nothing would take it from her now.