It had been ridiculously easy to grab her. He was almost disappointed.  

After their first few meetings, the dance, the fight, fists and fangs – which had all been utter bliss in his book. He had thought she’d put up more of a fight, hell even be aware that he had been lurking in the garden listening to the angst of her break-up with the Poof and suppressing his giggles at the expression of constipated pain on Granddad’s face. The best thing being that she had a mouth on her that challenged his own for quipiness. The year had past in a haze after she'd damaged his spine and stuck him in a wheelchair. Things had gone from bad to worse, with the ultimate bloody injustice being Dru dumping him cos he was covered in her.  Covered in her? Sod that. Spike grunted under his breath as he slouched on the grey leather sofa and watched her sleep.   

So when he'd spotted her earlier, he'd figured on a nice scuffle before all naughty vamps should be in bed. He'd been on his way to grab Red and have her do a nice love spell to get Dru back in his arms when he'd seen her working out. All bronzed skin and tight breasts bouncing all over the place as she worked out in the deserted library. His plans shifted in that instant and he still didn't know why.   

And now she was in his bed.  Well, not his exactly. Spike grimaced in thought of the reaction Dru would have had if she’d woken up and found a Slayer trussed up next to her. Not a pretty sight, that would've been.  Not that he'd have to worry about that happening seeing as how his sire was a continent away, and oddly enough, the longer he spent staring at the golden beauty snoring on the bed, the less he missed her.  

The bed was a masterpiece of metalwork, all curves and loops.  It looked like it'd been a special commission. Or so the blond vampire thought when he discovered the built in drawer underneath, full of toy surprises. The dead bloke had gone up in his estimation. Pity he'd eaten the git and nicked his keys and ID, looked like he was one for sexual games that’d make a vamp’s eyes cross and Spike was always one for exchanging ideas. ‘Balls…least he tasted good.’  

After nabbing her, he'd driven them both to what turned out to be a rather spiffy condo in the posher part of  town. It was decorated in austere modernity that appealed to him after the frilly whatnots his ex had always insisted on, it was white and black through out. Until he'd kicked the bedroom door open and hoisted the Slayer onto the bed. In the master bedroom it was a study in scarlet, and it had ripped a satisfied and approving grin from his lips.  He liked it—went with his look.  

Spike lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, his eyes riveted to the soft naked form on the bed. She was out like a light and it had been easy enough to get her into the bedroom and stripped down. It'd been a pleasant surprise that the seedy guy who was currently face down in a gutter outside The Alibi Room, was a kinky bastard with all kinds of toys for him to play with. Including the heavy manacles that were attached to the head and foot of the king-size bed, holding down the supple and mouth watering form of his captive.  

He was getting bored. Never a good thing with him as it usually resulted in bloodshed and mayhem. That one time in Venice when he’d gotten bored and drunk out of his mind, Spike still wasn’t sure if he’d let that gondolier shag him.  

"Come on, Slayer.  Wake the bloody hell up, I want to play," Spike grumbled as he smoked the last of his fag and snuffed it out on the black marble floor. "Come on Sleeping Beauty by the time you wake up I'll have dusted from boredom." His eyes ran eagerly over her body and he shifted slightly as his cock hardened even more. At this rate it was going to drop off.  

'Oh shit oh shit.’  Buffy had woken up about a minute ago when the chill of the air conditioning had made her nipples tighten into dark pink buds. Instantly alert, she'd realised by the heavy grip on her wrists and ankles that she was up the proverbial creek and definitely no paddles in sight. So she'd concentrated on slowing her breathing and heart rate as best she could, waiting for a moment when she could get loose. She realised when her captor spoke that it was Spike and a flush of red had broken out all over her body, one that the inebriated vampire seemed to have missed as he paced back and forth muttering to himself under his breath.  

After the initial ‘oh my god, I’m naked’ mental meltdown, she'd managed to get herself under control. It didn't matter to her if he'd seen her in her birthday suit, as a soon to be pile of dust was so not going to be telling any tales.  Buffy consciously shut down the screaming girl inside her who was freaking out over her splayed legs, forced open by the cold manacles on her slender ankles and revealing everything that a lover should see—not a mortal enemy. She knew his artic blue gaze was travelling all over her exposed body; it was almost like a caress. Weirdly, he had not touched her, not since she'd woken anyway.  And damn if she wasn’t just a little impressed at his restraint.  

"Slayer, I know you've been awake for about a minute, now open your eyes," Spike bluffed, hoping that his demands might pull her from the arms of Morpheus.  

Busted.  

Buffy tensed, and in doing so she gave herself away.   

"I knew it, you naughty little faker." Spike's voice rose triumphantly and she mentally slapped herself. She kept her eyes firmly closed, deciding if they were shut then none of this was happening. She wasn't naked and tied to a bed with Spike ogling her. The only person who had seen her naked was Angel and now…She wanted to scream at the bleached moron for doing this to her. But something stopped her, something primal began to roll through her body, taking over and pushing aside her inhibitions. It wasn't as if she was going to be able to fight back and if she were completely honest with herself, there was something about Spike that had always piqued her interest.   

Her eyes cracked open, hazel meeting azure in a silent battle of wills between the two blonds. She was not going to let him know how her nudity affected her.  He was the horn dog that had stripped her and she wondered briefly if he’d explored her body before flushing bright red. ‘Lemme at him!’ She was going to teach him a few lessons. Or so she hoped.  Her one night fumble under the sheets with Angel had relieved her of her virginity and handed her a nightmare that had had only ended when the peroxide perv ogling her goodies had stepped in and helped. But it hadn’t taught her much, except that vampires didn't seem to have any stamina to speak of. She was sick and tired of playing the good girl, she wanted to have fun and seeing that she was still alive and all with pulse-having, Buffy figured Spike was playing by a different set of vampy rules.  

'Christ, she’s fucking magnificent. A real Boudecia, unashamed of her nudity and pinning me with a glare that would dust a lesser vamp at twenty paces.' His cock twitched as she looked fiercely up at him, her breasts heaving as she twisted her arms and tried to get loose.  

"Oh pet, wriggle a bit more. I love watching your pretty nipples bobbing around," he purred, determined to get her good and cross.  She looked stunning when she was all ready for a fight. The drink in his system was impairing what little common sense he'd held onto through his latest debacle with Dru. Spike couldn’t care less anyway, as long as her tits were doing the pretty little bobbing thing that they were.   

"Are you kidding?" Buffy yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you, Spike?" she added for good effect, determined she was going to be the one in charge, not him. Buffy smiled alluringly needing to lure him a little closer and then he was toast. By the time she was finished with him, he would be putty in her hands.  

"Apparently you," he answered cryptically and stood fluidly, shrugging off the ever-present duster and hooking his thumbs into his waistband.  

"Huh?"  

"Yeah, Dru kicked me out on my arse—said I was all covered in you. You know she shagged a chaos demon?" Spike’s voice still clung to his incredulity as he sauntered across the floor towards his wriggling prey, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. “Do you have any idea how disgusting the wet spot on the bed is after one of those things has been screwing your sire? Size of ruddy Africa and falling face first into that pile of slime after a week of tequila is not something I recommend.” He gagged at the memory of the funky smell of Dru and chaos slime on his face and realised that that was probably the final straw for him with his old tart of a lover.  

“Thought I’d make my way up here and see where the Slayer lay.” Spike smirked and licked his lips. “Oh yeah, right in front of me with her delectable body all laid out for me to feast on.” Full of bravado and lust, he had scented her arousal and in that moment realised that things were definitely looking up for him. 'When had it gone from fangs and death, to fangs and wanting to shag her brains out?' He ignored the voice in his head telling him that it had never changed; she had always been the one.   

So caught up in her eyes, Spike missed her working her slender hands out of the manacles and the wicked smirk on her lips as she waited for him to get closer. Buffy shifted her hips, trying to mask the wetness between her legs as it dripped onto the soft cotton sheets she lay on. The sound of his voice and sight of him was causing her to lose the last of her inhibitions and all she could focus on was his eyes and mouth. She wanted him – and for some reason that she so wasn’t going to investigate further, it was no surprise to her.  

'Come closer, pretty blue eyed vampy...Buffy's waiting for you.' She licked her lips and unleashed her most lethal weapon: a full pout. She’d always wondered if he was as good as she’d made him in her dreams, and for some reason he wanted her. After Angel and the not-so-happy morning after, she had convinced herself that sex and Buffy were nonmixy. Then Angel had come back from Hell all weak and with the puppy eyes and Scott had dumped her. All that led to a very unconfident Buffy and yet, Spike was interested. So her body took over the calmer, more rational part of her mind, stuck it in a box and chained it shut. Spike wanted to play and who was she to deny him? Her mouth curved from a small pout into a full on ‘gimme everything’ one and prayed she wasn’t making an total fool of herself in the process.  

Spike tripped over his feet, the booze still lazing in his system robbing him of his usual vampiric grace. The delicious sight of her full lower lip jutting out, all pink and succulent and waiting for him was his undoing. He tripped and fell onto the bed, his face mashed between her breasts. He was in heaven. She smelt like freshly baked fairy cakes and his mouth watered. Unable to stop himself, Spike licked her heated skin and moaned happily – until his throat was caught in a grip of steel and unforgiving Slayer fingers became acquainted with his neck.  

"Holy crap, Spike," Buffy squealed as he fell between her legs and buried his face in her cleavage. His hands slid automatically to her hips and under until her peach shaped bottom filled them. Her hands came down automatically and gripped him around the throat, stopping his fingers in mid squeeze. She needed the key for the cuffs before anything else. Buffy gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the cool puffs of air hitting her fevered skin or the soft mouth that was pressed against her. Let alone the cool tongue that lapped at her cleavage. The sensation of his stomach pressed against her soaked cleft was driving her nuts. Sex was all she wanted and she wanted it now.  

"Spike, where are the keys," she whispered coaxingly.  

"Urk." Spike began to wonder if maybe abducting the Slayer and then chaining her to the bed had not been the brightest of ideas. He could've sworn that she was turned on In fact, he could still smell her arousal and his t-shirt was getting soaked with her juices.  

He looked at her with bleary, lust laden confused eyes, his body heavy against hers. "In my back pocket, right hand one," he rasped. Trying to talk when a slayer had your throat in her hands was proving to be a wee bit tricky. He figured if she got free by his voluntary participation then maybe he’d survive with his balls still attached to his body. Spike briefly hoped that he could finesse her into being gentle with him.  He was pretty bloody fond of them and hoped she’d be gentle with him.  

Buffy kept hold of his throat with one hand and sent a very happy hand down his back to dig around in his jeans pockets for the key. 'Wow, nice and firm.' She gave Spike's left cheek an appreciative squeeze all the while drooling over the cute butt he had been hiding under that duster. Her fingers gave him another good squeeze as she searched for the key.  

Spike's eyes crossed when he felt his ass being given a good grope by the naked nymph pinned under him and tentatively returned the favour. If she hadn't been constricting his voice box he'd have purred at her. Instead he laid quiescent on her, happy to let her do anything she wanted to do to him.   

Buffy's pink tongue stuck out as she concentrated on finding the tiny key, unaware of the sublimely happy vampire staring adoringly up at her. She let out a whoop of triumph as her questing fingers found it. "Spike, be a good boy and keep very still," she ordered.  

Spike happily complied; he wasn't in any hurry to get off her lush body. His happy factor kicked up several notches when she began to wriggle around, her hands busy on the still locked cuffs. Her breasts bobbing around on either side of his grinning face and her hips working in circles against his very happy body.  

"Tha's a girl," Spike moaned. Buffy mentally rolled her eyes at the dumb ass drunk vampire currently moaning and humping the bed. He was soooo easy and by the time she'd finished with him, he would be wrung out and ready to do anything she wanted – or so he hoped, according to the books locked un Giles’s desk vamps were unlike Angel were big with the stamina. Spike with all his bad boy charm and sexy moves and walk had to live up to what he advertised? She still couldn't figure out the total lack of interest in playing stake the vamp who'd knocked her out and kidnapped her, but he was a hottie and there was no way this was ending with one of them dead.   

Snick.  

"Oi, those are for you, not me," Spike complained. He stared balefully at his imprisoned hands.  He raised a brow at her in question, wondering what she had planned, if his hands were chained then how could he tend to her.  

"Nope, my turn to play." With that, Buffy slipped out from under him, released her ankles and then flipped over the cursing black clad vampire onto his back. He was currently sporting a pout that put hers to shame. "Awww, did Spikey get caught out?" Buffy teased as she ripped his t-shirt open and immediately began to drool at the image of perfection she had at her command. "Nice," she purred as her fingers began to map out the muscles and curves she planned on getting very familiar with.  

"Thanks. I work out, y'know." Spike grimaced. 'Nice work, git, letting out the trade secrets.'  

"I can see," she whispered appreciatively. Utterly enthralled in his torso, she knelt over his hips, completely unashamed of her nudity, and sat down on his denim-covered erection. She figured that a wannabe sex kitten didn’t freak about her boobs and stuff being on display, so she brazened it out. Her hands got busy stroking his stomach, giggling as it twitched and rolled under her curious touches. She wanted to explore every inch of his pale chiselled body, preferably with her tongue. Buffy smirked at Spike, wondering how he’d react if he knew what she was considering doing to him.  

"Slayer, why aren't you staking me and running off virtue all aflutter?" Spike asked curiously.  Not that he was complaining about the heat scorching his cock, but he was all at sea over her behaviour.  

"Hey, you started it, with the hitting me on the head and tying me up nekkid." Buffy pinched the soft skin on his flanks in reprimand and, when he yelped, she raked her fingernails soothingly along the soft skin, determinedly not dwelling on the slut bomb she’d become.  

"Right." Spike shot her a smirk and wriggled his hips against her wetness. He curled his tongue against his teeth at the sight of her face slackening in pleasure, her mouth dropping open with a throaty moan of approval as she ground down on him. The sight of his mortal enemy using him to get herself off was nearly enough for him to lose control of himself. ‘Not coming in m’pants like a sweaty palmed teen.’ He started to count down backwards, trying to distract himself from what might be an embarrassing end to a potentially delicious evening.  

"Yeah, right. So time to pay the price." She rocked her hips against his. Her inner tension and fear of being too inexperienced for him was fast disappearing with each jolt of pleasure that shot to her womb.  She wondered if she was going to have her first orgasm just being rubbed by his jeans. Buffy hadn't had one before in her life with anyone but herself, so this was a first she was really looking forward to.  

"Look, love, truce yeah? Won't do anything you don't want, right? So lets get rid of these." Spike rattled the manacles hopefully. "And we can have a bit of fun?" he asked with a cautious smile.  

Buffy pouted down at him. "But I was having fun."  

"I know, love.  But just think of the fun we can have if Spike has his fingers free." He wriggled the aforementioned digits hopefully.   

Buffy humphed quietly before reaching over his head and fumbling with the locks, muttering under her breath how it had better be worth it. Then her toes curled and her eyes crossed.  

"Oh," she squealed as Spike's lips latched onto a very happy nipple and sucked it hard into his mouth.  

Spike was in heaven.  He had a mouthful of plump Slayer tit and the taste of her skin was like the finest champagne. ‘Sod the fairy cakes taste; she is pure sex’. His teeth teased the tight peaked nipple that she had unconsciously shoved in his face before he set about laving the soft under side of her breast with his tongue.  He wanted to lick her from head to toe, taste every nook and cranny of her body, before laying her back and sliding between her thighs and into her wet, sweet welcoming quim.  

He wanted it all, the whole Slayer Buffy package. Now he understood what Dru was wittering on about; this is where he was meant to be. Covered in her? Like hell he was, he was drowning in her and never wanted to be saved.  

Both of them were caught up in each other’s spell, beyond rhyme or reason.  All they saw, smelled and felt was each other. Buffy sat up and stared down at Spike, her brow furrowed as she flexed her fingernails into his pecs and waited for him to pay attention to her. His mouth was partially open, almost as if he were seeking the succulent breast he’d been feasting on. She waited, grunting softly with each surge of his hips.  Her clit was in a constant state of arousal. Something she’d never experienced before and could see that fast becoming an addiction.  

“Spike?” she panted, finally giving up on him saying anything.  

He looked up at her, his pale azure eyes filled with confusion and tempered with lust. “Slayer?”  

“What’s going on here?” Buffy gestured at her nude body and his partially clad one.  

Spike bit back the urge to tease her about her innocence and if she didn’t know what was going on then she shouldn’t be doing the exciting wriggles on his raging hardon. But for once the cautious side of him pushed forward and he smiled. “Looks like we’re being nice a friendly, yeah?” Last thing he wanted was for this to end – ever.  

“But it’s wrong,” she whispered. Buffy mentally slapped herself for being a goodie two shoes and saying what she had.   

“How can anything so good be that bad, love?” He cocked his head. For the first time in his unlife, Spike prayed to a deity that had forsaken him the moment Dru had drained him as dry as the Sahara and then fed him from her poisoned chalice. “Nowhere else I would want to be except here.” He waited for her to either snog his face off or for the stake to fall. He’d learned the hard way never to underestimate her when it came to hiding stakes on her delectably body. ‘But if she pulls one out of her scrumptious arse, then I owe Angelus a grand.’  

Buffy blushed bright red, the pink flush spreading down her neck and spreading over her bobbing breasts. Spike watched the change in her skin, fascinated and enchanted by her shyness. The minx was riding his dick like a jockey at the Derby and yet was flustered by it all. He’d never been so turned on in his unlife and his cock was still in his jeans. She was a sexual siren and he was helpless, enthralled by her and surprisingly right where he wanted to be. But everything hinged on her reply, so he was uncharacteristically silent, waiting for her decision.  

Buffy’s hips stilled.  He’d done it – made it real and not just a mindless night of screwing before going their separate ways. She stared at his belly button and tried not to drool—even that was cute. She had never, ever in all her wildest imaginings thought this would or could happen.  

“Slayer? Ummm…Buffy?” Spike winced at the sound of his voice breaking.  

‘Oh god, this was for real.’ Buffy gulped and then glanced up. It took just one look and she was lost in his eyes.  

“If I take those off, you’ll play nice?” she asked weakly, silently damning herself for being so easy, but who could blame her with a hunk of cuteness between her legs nervously waiting for her to say yes or no. She could see it in the Big Bad’s eyes. He was worried about her saying no and just because of that, she took a leap of faith.  

“As nice as you want me to be, for as long as you want me,” he managed to rasp out, barely controlling himself. He inhaled deeply, taking it all in.  Her scent was the purest ambrosia and his entire being ached to bury himself in her for all eternity.  

Both of them knew he was talking about more than sex -- it was all about the future.  

Buffy leaned over and released his wrists.  That was all that was needed to be done, no words were necessary. That silent acceptance was enough for both of them. In a few hours they’d gone from mortal enemies to lovers-- and it suited them both.  

~~~~~~~~~  

Spike teased her with each snap of his fingers on the buttons of his fly, his tongue curled against the back of his fangs as Buffy sat up with the sheet clutched against her breasts. Totally agog, her only time had been in the dark and Angel had not wanted her to see his cock; he’d been unwilling to freak her anymore than she was already freaked. But now she was so ready to have a look at – ‘Oh my god, It’s humungous…how the hell  is  it gonna fit?’ Buffy gulped, staring wide-eyed at Spike’s groin, her eyeballs drying with her inability to blink since he’d dropped his jeans.  

“Luv?” Spike ran his hands down over his chest and idly circled his cock, pumping it slowly. “You alright?”  

“Huh? Wha… yeah, I’m okay.  It’s big—” Buffy slapped her hands over her mouth, her actions causing the sheet to drop down to her waist and revealing her breasts to his appreciative gaze.  

Spike looked down at the object of discussion and shrugged. “Might be an inch or so bigger than Peaches, but you must’ve seen…Oh—” He paused at the shine of innocence in her eyes. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair and sank down on the bed next to her.  

“Bigger?”  

Spike grinned. “Yeah, but don’t fret yourself, love. I’ll look after you.” He reached over and ghosted the back of his hand over her cheek and down her body, tracing her soft curves. He was unused to a woman with body temperature. She was burning him up already and he’d not even slid into her silken depths. But more importantly, a woman with some flesh on her bones was a new experience to him. As much as he’d loved Dru, she’d been skeletal. ‘Bit like shagging an ironing board,’ he though irreverently, all sense of respect gone for his sire at the sight of her kissing the slime covered freak with antlers. Spike suppressed his gag reflex, not wanting to traumatise the fiery little bundle of slayer sweetness staring at him with solemn eyes.  

Buffy looked down and watched as he cupped her breast and ran his thumb over her puckered nipple. It felt so different than when she did it to herself.  His calloused thumb circled the tight nub, sending bolts of arousal to her already soaked cleft. With each sweep of his thumb her stomach clenched and Buffy moaned quietly. Her hands gripped each other, her knuckles turning white under the pressure of trying to control herself.  

“Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?” Spike purred, leaning over to sweep her hair off one shoulder before beginning to place delicate kisses along the column of her neck. A passionate shiver made its way down her spine, actually making her shake in fear that a master vampire was making love to her neck with his lips and blunt teeth. Instead of giving in to the panic, though, Buffy leaned into his mouth and curled one hand around his wrist.  Holding on, she tried not to quiver noticeably.    

Spike slid over onto the bed and gently pushed her onto her back.  He slid over her supine body and commanded, “lie back . There, all comfy now?” he whispered against her pulse point.  

“Yeah, now kiss me again,” she demanded huskily with a pout.  

Buffy sighed into his kiss.  Her arms drifted over his shoulders and she gently scratched his back with her nails. Spike purred and arched into her touch as his lips danced over hers and his tongue lapped at them, demanding entrance. Her full lips parted and Buffy groaned as his tongue tangled with hers in a mock battle. They curled around each other’s tongues, exchanging soft sibilant kisses that curled both their toes and made them both forget previous loves, quickly losing themselves in each other. Her thigh muscles quivered as she rocked against him, his cock nestled between her wet lips, the tip nudging against her swollen clit with every twitch of their bodies. All this intimacy was new to her, something she’d never experienced and wanted to explore.  To her surprise, she wanted to explore it with him, Spike – William the Bloody. Her life was getting weirder by the day.  

He slipped free of her questing hands and began to mouth soft kisses down her throat, lapping delicately at the hollow of her throat. Buffy whimpered as she felt his face shift and the slow scrap of his fangs on her heated sensitive skin made her hips buck up against his. Spike smiled against the top of her chest.  So, the slayer liked a little monster in her man, who was he to deny her.  

“Hold onto the headboard, Slayer,” he ordered softly, part of him wishing she were still cuffed to it.  

“Wahh, why?” Buffy looked down between her breasts and stared quizzically at Spike.  

“Hush now, sweet girl.” Spike reached up, both of them moaning at the loss of contact as his cock slithered free from her cleft. It bobbed against his stomach, glistening with her juices in the flickering candlelight as he slid his hands up to hers and loosely held her wrists. “Can I?” He indicated with his head to the empty cuffs still chained to the headboard.  

Buffy gulped and stared at him, then looked overhead at the metal bands glinting beguilingly at her. She was so tempted. The idea of surrendering completely to him was irresistible. The moment seemed to stretch into eternity as they both waited for her to say yes. Finally, she nodded.  Mentally shrugging, she reasoned to herself that if she had to, she could tear herself free.  

The sinful glint in Spike’s eyes filled her with anticipation.  Her thighs flopped open as a rush of moisture as Spike laid over her and reached for the cuffs and chained her down for the second time that evening – but this time she was a willing participant. He brushed kisses over her face and throat, his tongue tracing the faint blue lines of her veins as he hummed in pleasure at her acquiescence to a vampire. His respect for her hit a new high. Spike smiled against her damp skin as he lapped delicately in the hollow of her throat.  

Buffy curled her fingers around the cold links of the chains holding her down, anchoring herself in the maelstrom that he evoked in her mind and on her body.  She threw her head back, offering her throat to the slayer of her kind. A sphinx-like smile curled the edges of her full mouth as Buffy let her senses and body be filled with him.  

Her vampire.  All hers—something innate within her was telling her that she was now the proud possessor of one slightly damaged vampire. ‘But hello, what a vampire! He was so hot,’ Buffy mentally squealed, allowing herself a moment of utter ‘oh my god, is he a hottie’. A heady excitement filled her as Buffy realised there was nothing she would change, not now she was experiencing this side of him.  

Spike raised his head and watched Buffy writhe on the sheets, her arms taut above her head and fingers knotted in the silver chains as she offered her body up to him. “Absolute Bloody perfection,” he whispered against her heated skin as he watched her muscles ripple and tighten.  

Buffy blushed at his quiet words and raised her head, her unfocused eyes making contact with his. She watched as his blue orbs faded to a deep umber and the planes of his face shifted and raised, she locked gazes with him without any fear in her stormy hazel orbs.  

Spike smiled at her and then without any preamble, sank his razor sharp fangs into the sensitive underside of her breast. Buffy shrieked at the sudden sting of his bite as it pierced her tender flesh, and then her entire being seized as an orgasm shook her from the tip of her toes to the tips of her fingers. It was nothing like the time the Master or Angel had bitten her; both of those bites were meant to either release or heal the vampire in question. This bite—this tempestuous man cradled between her thighs with his teeth embedded in her soft flesh—was evoking feelings within her that she had never dreamed of. His bite was erotic, painful, and yet it was still sending aftershocks of bliss through her system. It was amazing and she wanted more.  

Spike pulled back and stared at her flushed sweating face, his amber eyes quizzical. “Liked that, did you?” he whispered.  His fingers painted abstract images on her breasts and stomach using the blood that seeped from the twin holes he’d marked her with. Her tanned stomach flexed as he tickled her bellybutton and anointed her with nonsensical sigils and signs.  He wanted to map all of her with his hands and mouth and so he began with laving the wounds on the tender pale skin, the red marks a startling contrast to the white.  

“God…” Buffy hissed against a stinging pain every time she inhaled shakily, but instead of being turned off, her arousal increased. “That kinda puts a different slant on ‘bite me’, doesn’t it?” She giggled and placed her feet flat on the bed and thrust her hips up against him.  

“Not scared?” Spike frowned, wondering why she’d not flipped out and torn him a new one or at the very least, shoved a stake where the sun didn’t shine. He smirked at her, ‘so she liked a bit of a monster in her man.’   

“Not gonna hurt me, are you?” Buffy whispered trying to hide the tremor of worry in her voice. Spike blinked at that and realised that no, he wasn’t going to hurt her—he the Slayer of Slayers was making love to one and not plotting her demise.  

“Bloody well not going to,” he smirked and leant down and began to lap off the blood he’d painted on her body. His demon was satiated by the power infused in her crimson sweetness, but his fangs ached as Spike lapped off every small droplet. His hands remained busy on her breasts, tweaking and pulling her nipples until they were a deep red from his amorous attentions. Buffy’s head was thrown back and her hands held onto the cold metal bars as she moaned and shivered with each swipe of his rough tongue.  

Spike’s cock throbbed and ached with each taste of her blood and skin. The heat of her skin added to his excitement as it increased with each lick. He brushed his hands down her flanks and then let his fingers grip her hips and steady them against the mattress as his head ducked down further. He let his tongue dip into her belly button, his actions evoking a chortle of laughter from her. He slowly ground his erection down onto the silky sheets in small circles— anything to try and relieve some of the pressure.  

“That tickles,” Buffy squealed and half-heartedly tried to wriggle free of his hold. Her soft belly flexing as she moved. Spike looked up and smirked at her and then for one breathless moment, hovered over her willing body and then struck.  

“Ohhh…” Buffy screamed as his tongue licked her slit in one languorous move. Spike’s toes curled at the first taste of her – she was a combination of sugar and spice and was blissful, as close to heaven as a damned soul as him would get. Spike sank his mouth into her, his tongue exploring the saturated folds with such intensity that he had Buffy screaming and thanking the gods that he’d chained her down. Otherwise she was positive she would be plastered to the mirrored ceiling.  

“Oh god—just there—harder, Spike.  Bite me there. Oh god… YES!” she howled as she came over and over. Without realising, her legs lifted and she slid smooth calves over his shoulders and curved her hips upwards, offering herself to his talented mouth and tongue. Not being one to deny himself, Spike dropped his head and pressed a kiss to her mound and then without preamble, sank his fangs shallowly into the tender raised area. He pulled back and kissed the curve of her cleft.  Spike could see her puffy nub pushing out of her labia and demanding his attention. He pressed a soft light kiss onto it and gave it a little nibble. Unable to resist, for a brief moment he let his fang slip into the soft flesh and watched as her back arched and Buffy screamed her release to the rafters.  

“Jeez, not a chew toy here!” Buffy panted. She peered down at the impish grin he was wearing on his glistening face and watched wide eyed as he stuck his tongue out and lapped at the blood seeping from the wounds in her brown curls. He turned his attentions to her clit, latching on and suckling hard, feeling her body tense and release again and again as mini orgasms shot through her. “Ahh – little warning, Spiiiiike!”  

Spike lifted his head and laughed.  He watched fascinated as her precious blood trickled down and coated her cleft, his mouth watered in anticipation. “Vamp here, pet.  You’re fighting a losing battle with the oral fixation and the teeth.  Be grateful I know how to use ‘em to make you scream in lots of very good ways.” He winked and proceeded to devour her soaked pussy. Buffy twined her shaking fingers into his hair, pulling free the curls she had suspected hid under all that gel. Her only focus was to hang on and pray that her brains didn’t dribble out of her ears.  

Spike was in paradise.  

He was soaked in her juices, his tongue curling in and out of her tight shuddering opening and lapping her up. The sweet combination of her blood and juices made his mind swim in bliss. His fingers cupped the soft round cheeks of her shivering backside as he held her up to his oh so appreciative mouth. He knew she was an innocent in most forms of foreplay. Spike snorted at the memory of Angelus’s ideas of foreplay.  The blundering poof would usually just throw Dru or Darla’s skirts over their faces and get them to spread their legs. Spike doubted that Peaches getting a soul had taught him how to get things humming along with his lover, so he knew that for Buffy, all this was new territory. Spike was amazed, and pretty chuffed at how happily she was taking to it.  

“Spike, y’know as much as a girl likes foreplay – ohhh just there, that’s just… wow…” Buffy groaned and twisted her hip as she rode his wriggling tongue; she’d never in her wildest dreams imagined that sex could be like this. Even the books paled in comparison to Spike.  She squeaked when his tongue slipped down and explored somewhere she was so not ready for, slamming her butt down hard on the mattress. “Ewww…”  

Spike chuckled and pressed his hands flat on her inner thighs to spread her legs as far as he could .  He lapped at her engorged nubbin before nibbling on her swollen labia.  His attentions were making her inner lips puffy and deepen with colour as blood rushed to the area. He sighed against her opening and pressed a soft kiss to it, mentally promising to be right back. Now that he’d supped from her sweetness and witnessed her face and eyes as she came, it would take the combined forces of good and evil to tear him from her.  

Buffy wriggled around, starting to get nervous with the stillness of his face. It was the look of concentration as he slid two fingers into her sheath and began to pump them that stilled her tongue. Her eyes were riveted between her legs as she saw his hand moving in and out of her.  No one had ever done that to her and she could already tell she more than liked it. Her mouth slackened as slowly Spike built her overwrought body up to another climax. Briefly she wondered how many she could take before slipping into a coma. Buffy could feel her entire body shaking under the sensuous assault on it and her inner thighs and cleft were aching from all the attention.  

He began to speak, his words timed with each slow thrust of his busy fingers. “Love, I’d never do anything you didn’t want to do.” He returned her tentative smile with a crooked one of his own. “But have to tell you, pet, you’d probably enjoy it.  Best wait though, yeah?” He twisted his fingers around and curled them up against her inner walls and rubbed hard, watching as her face relaxed with pleasure as she came undone on his hand. Her legs shook and her mind seized onto his words that were ringing in her ears, his promise that there would be a later.  

She looked up at him. “Oh my god, what the hell was that?” Buffy panted and twisted her hips, trying frantically to escape his still moving fingers. Her eyes were riveted to his cock that was purple with need and seeping at the tip as it curved up and to the left slightly. “Um…doesn’t it hurt when it goes that colour?”  

“Yeah, but it’s a nice burn, builds the anticipation.” Spike pulled his fingers out of her twitching channel and used the slickness of her arousal to pump his hand smoothly up and down his aching cock. Buffy licked her lips, her eyes focused on his dextrous fingers, pale and lean as they moved up and down his cock. Buffy let her foot rest on his thigh and slid her toes around and under his heavy balls. She tentatively tickled them. The Slayer was surprised at the sensation of them moving and twitching against her foot as she explored the rough textured skin and massaged them. She watched as Spike’s fangs disappeared and his face took on a goofy blissful expression due to her tentative ministrations.   

With a sigh, Spike pulled away from her and crawled over her waiting body, his eyes scanning every inch of her from her pretty little toes to the tips of her fingers.  He deemed her read and gently lowered himself down. His cock nudging at her entrance as his hands slid up her arms and she let his fingers twine with hers. They were nose to nose as Spike gave her a slow, sensuous wet kiss and whispered sweet nothings into her open mouth. His erection nudging against her swollen clit as his hips surged against her slowly.  

‘Oh my god, this is it.’ Buffy bit her lower lip and worried it with her teeth. If she let him do this then it was all over with Angel.  No more waiting and hoping for a miracle cure for his curse, no more longing looks and daydreaming. This was the turning point of her life, something deep inside her knew this and accepted it.  A sense of calmness came over her as Buffy made peace with her past and stared up through her lashes at what she hoped would be her future.

"Serious thoughts, pet." Spike cupped her face in the palm of his hand and let his body relax over hers. His cock rested impatiently against her swollen clit and she could feel his pre-cum seeping against her folds, anointing her with a precursor of what was to come. She gulped and let herself look deep into his eyes.

"This is real," she whispered hoarsely, a question on her countenance that made him blink and smile sweetly at her. Her overwrought nerves finally gave voice to her worries. "You won't turn me?" She stared owlishly up at him and mentally winced at the almost Victorian expression affronted disapproval on his face.

"Never!  Why would you think that now…after all we've done tonight?" Spike sounded slightly affronted at her softly spoken question.

"Sorry, it's just, well...you know, with us always with the fighty mortal enemies and stuff, and now this." She gestured with her chin to the way their bodies were melding together.

"Can't say I'm not tempted to take another nibble at the right time. I want to taste you as you come over and over, all that excitement and lust in your delectable blood." He licked his lips in anticipation and pecked a soft kiss on the tip of her nose before continuing. "But I like you just the way you are. All warm and toasty with a heartbeat and all." Spike smirked at the shocked and aroused expression on her face; he'd not missed the rush of moisture that coated his balls as she'd listened to his promises.  "Does my little bundle of Slayer sweetness like the idea of being bitten as I make love…I mean—" he faltered at his inadvertent admission.

Buffy stared up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Love?" Her voice broke slightly.
Something inside her leapt up and squealed in excitement.  Someone loved her, all of her—not just the idea of her. She didn't care what the others said anymore. She wanted this dichotomy of a vampire in her life. Hell, she wanted him inside her and was beginning to wonder if he was going to tease her to death. She knew she didn't love him, not yet. She barely liked him up until the moment she woke up naked and chained to his bed. But there was something there inside her heart, something that had woken earlier and was not going anywhere. She was open to hope, to prospect and that for once changed the way her mind saw him. So for once she decided to take a leap before she looked.

"Don't you dare," she growled, wrapping her legs around his waist to stop Spike from getting up. "Spike, please, look at me," she coaxed him into opening his screwed up eyes. His entire body had gone rigid at his slip and he'd clamped his eyes shut. Waiting for the mocking laughter and the denial of lovemaking--but it hadn't come. He'd tried to escape but was held prisoner by some very determined slayer legs that were currently holding him captive; he could feel her heat burning him.

"Why not, just made a git of myself." He trailed off at the genuine smile on her lips. "Or not?" He titled his head quizzically at her, hope flaring in his long dead heart.

"Lovemaking?" Buffy whispered, her heart in her throat and her eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't quite understand.

He ducked his head and then peeped up at her with a surprisingly boyish grin on his face, his heart in his eyes. "Surprise! Spike, William the Bloody, namely me, loves the Slayer, namely Elizabeth Anne Summers, and he is rather hoping you won't stake him for it." Buffy blinked at the curiously formal timber his voice had taken and realised in that moment that Spike's heart was in her hands to either cherish or crush. Spike tried not to start shivering with worry and fear of rejection.  He'd finally voiced something he'd never really admitted to himself; it was something Dru had seen and in her crazy rambling way had tried to tell him, only to be met with blanket denial until now.

An eternity hung in that moment, both of them holding their breath waiting.

"Make love to me." Her voice was soft but confident and her gaze unwavering as she undulated her hips against his, rubbing his cock against her wet folds as she purred and twisted against his hard body, eager to feel him slide into her.

So he did.

 

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