Dr. Spike
by Spikeskat
“Paging Dr. Spike. Dr. Spike, please
report to the E.R.,” a singsong voice chimed out from the upper level of the
house, the melodious tones drifting to the occupant sprawled on the living room
couch. Spike and Buffy had the house to themselves. Dawn had left
with the two witches to spend the day shopping and watching movies, with plans
to spend the night at their house since it would be late when they finished
their activities. Spike was currently stretched out on the couch, thoroughly
engrossed in the latest episode of Passions. When he had turned the
program on earlier, Buffy had just rolled her eyes at him before leaving in a
huff to take a shower upstairs.
Hearing Buffy’s voice call out once more, his mind drifted back to when he had
first arrived this morning.
~*~
Spike had left the safety of his
crypt, braving the early morning rays to head out to Buffy’s house.
Buffy had called him less than fifteen minutes ago, giving him the
“coast-was-clear” sign. The woolen blanket he had pulled tightly around
himself was just starting to smoke as he slipped thru the kitchen doorway.
He ignored it, gladly willing to risk getting a little singed if it meant he
would be able to spend his whole day with her.
He had just stepped through the kitchen threshold, tossing his smoldering
blanket onto the floor and shutting the door, when a blur of naked blonde
attacked him. He instinctively held out his arms, grabbing her around the
waist as she launched herself up his body, the force of her onslaught shoving
him hard up against the closed door. Her arms went around his neck as her
legs wrapped around his hips, locking her bare body in place against his.
A muffled “ummpfff” escaped his lips as he slammed into the door, but her
lips settled quickly over his to smother the sound. Her tongue took
advantage of his open mouth, slipping inside to tangle with his.
The feel of his burning skin caused him to tear his mouth from hers, muttering
to her about the deadly rays coming through the uncovered window on the kitchen
door. Pushing himself away from the hazardous door, he carried her into
the living room, which he noticed was much darker than usual due to the extra
coverings she had placed on the windows. Crossing swiftly to the couch, he
kneeled, letting Buffy’s bare back touch the cushions as he followed and
covered her naked body with his own. He made quick work of the fastenings
on his jeans, hastily lowering them just enough to allow his cock to spring
free. A quick shimmy of his hips and he was sliding into her slick quim.
A moan escaped both of their mouths as he sheathed himself within her hot, wet
pussy. His lips found hers, delivering soft little nips to her lower lip
before he sucked it into his mouth and nibbled lightly. He released her
bottom lip then allowed his tongue to slip inside her welcoming mouth, mimicking
the action of his cock as it pumped in and out of her depths. Slowly.
The drawn-out movement did nothing to abate the tension coiled tightly within
her body.
‘The man is evil to tease me like this,’ she thought vaguely. He’d
probably get off on the fact that for once she did think he still was.
Evil, that is. She could just see the smirk now--
Buffy couldn’t take it. She needed him to move – hard and fast.
Needed him to pound into her so hard that she would be in danger of sliding up
and over the arm of the couch. Trying to convey her desperate thoughts
with her body – as her lips were otherwise occupied – she shifted her legs
higher on his back, increasing the depth of his thrusts. He groaned into
her mouth as he slipped that much deeper inside her slick passage.
She splayed her fingers in his hair while she kissed him. His tortuous pace
never wavered; the slow, measured strokes making her arch towards him, begging
for the release he denied her. Fisting her hands in his unruly peroxide
locks, she pulled his head back, breaking their kiss so she could trail her
tongue down his neck in one long lick.
And still, he maintained his damned exquisitely slow pace.
She narrowed her eyes in concentration, determined to break that inflexible
control of his. Trailing her tongue back and forth over his jugular, she
teased one of his most sensitive erogenous zones with hot, wet licks. His
guttural moans and slightly faster thrusts told her that she was getting to him
- just like she wanted. Then she went for the slam-dunk and bit him.
Hard. Her teeth clamped down on the skin over his jugular with enough
strength to break the surface.
Spike’s control snapped. Eyes flashing yellow, he let his demon come to
the fore and pounded into her for all he was worth. Buffy’s head butted
up against the arm of the couch as the force of his thrusts moved her backwards.
“Oh God, yes!” she cried. Finally.
Moments later she came, screaming his name as the pleasure overtook her body;
her bellowed “Spike” reverberated throughout the house. Her inner
walls clamped down on his dick, squeezing him towards his own release. He
needed no further prodding and quickly joined her, a choked “Buffy” escaping
his lips as his cold seed shot into her, cooling the fever raging within her
body. Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her.
“Again,” Buffy said as his body draped limply over hers.
“Gimme a sec, luv. I’ll get right to that,” Spike replied, sarcasm
dripping heavily from his voice. ‘Damn! Where were the tender
words, the blissful thoughts of completion, the… Hell, who was he kidding?
Again it is!’
Buffy cracked one eye open at the sound of his sarcastic voice. ‘God he
was adorable when he looked all disgruntled,’ she thought.
Spike braced himself slightly up off her body and allowed his semi-hard cock to
slip from her body. Another moan left his lips as he felt her inner
muscles clamp down in a failed effort to stop him from leaving. He wanted
nothing more than to sink back into her warmth, but he’d rather take their
little sexcapades up to her room. Her bed was a hell of a lot more
comfortable. Shifting up to his knees, he tucked himself back into his
jeans and refastened his zipper. His gaze slid over Buffy’s sun-kissed
body, laid out resplendently before him. Her eyes were once again closed
in post-coital bliss and her arms lay limply at her sides.
“C’mon, luv, ‘again’ is gonna be upstairs. Preferably stretched
out on your soft bed.”
His words caused Buffy’s lips to turn down into a slight pout; her body felt
way too languid to move from her current position on the couch. It was much too
far a walk from the couch to her room. If Spike wanted her upstairs, he was
going to have to carry her.
Sensing that she wasn’t going to move on her own, he slipped one arm
underneath her upper back and the other one beneath her knees, scooping her up
into his arms. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck as he made his way
swiftly upstairs. She giggled softly at his eagerness to get to her room.
~*~
Spike smiled, remembering how they had spent the three passion-filled hours in
her room this afternoon. They’d made love several more times: in the
bed, on the floor, and even up against the bedroom wall. Any flat surface
available, and even a few that weren’t so flat. They couldn’t seem to
get enough of each other. Finally, several hours later, they’d drifted
back downstairs to settle in front of the television.
Spike had channel-surfed while Buffy dozed; she was worn out from all their
“activities” earlier. After spending about an hour flipping through
the channels, Spike saw that Passions was finally coming on.
“Dr. O’Malley finally realizes his love for Nurse Betty. Will he have
time to tell her before she takes the job out of town? Find out on
today’s episode of Passions,” the TV blared. Buffy had groaned upon waking
up to hear the opening credits announced, pulling out of Spike’s arms and
telling him that she was going to take a shower.
‘Honestly! Why a grown vampire would sit and watch this crap is beyond
me,’ she thought to herself as she made her way upstairs to the bathroom.
Spike heard the shower turn on and debated as to whether or not he should join
her. Then, the commercials ended and Passions was once more on the screen.
He settled back down to watch his show, decision made. He could join her
during the next commercial break.
Unfortunately, the water shut off before the next round of commercials. He
heard the floors squeak upstairs as she went from the bathroom to her bedroom.
Then it got quiet. ‘What is she doing up there?’ he wondered. He
was just about to get up and go after her, even though Passions wasn’t over,
when he heard her voice.
“Paging Dr. Spike. Dr. Spike, please report to the E.R.”
Grinning, he shut off the television and bounded up the stairs.
Role-playing time. Pushing open her bedroom door, he stopped dead in his
tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at Buffy leaning against the
bedpost. Her hair was pinned up, exposing her neck, and she had on a
frilly, white creation that barely covered her tempting curves from his
lecherous gaze. A stethoscope hung around her neck.
Buffy gave Spike a knowing smile as she spotted his shocked expression.
She’d secretly bought this outfit over a week ago and had been waiting for an
excuse to wear it. The Passions introduction had given her the idea, and
she’d rummaged through her closet until she found the stethoscope – a
necessary instrument purchased when she had needed to keep an eye on her mom’s
blood pressure after her surgery. Pushing that slightly maudlin thought
aside, she regarded the blond vampire before her.
Spike hadn’t bothered to dress earlier, obviously very comfortable with his
nudity. She eyed his jutting cock, which had sprung to attention as he
opened the door to her bedroom, getting a good look at her outfit. White
stocking feet attached to garters covered her legs. A white, lacy scrap of
a triangle, loosely termed a thong, covered her mound. Completely
see-through, it allowed him to view her luscious dark curls. A matching
white lace corset completed the ensemble. The only problem being: the
corset didn’t cover her breasts. Instead it wrapped around her waist
leaving her breasts bare. From the way Spike was looking at her, Buffy
didn’t really think he saw this as a problem.
His eyes glazed over, Spike took long, purposeful strides into the room.
His goal: to reach Buffy, throw her on the bed, and ravish her for the next
several hours. Seeing the lustful gleam in his eye, she held up her hand
in front of her in “traffic-officer” style.
“Ah, ah, ah…” she chastised, waggling a finger at him. “Nurse
Buffy needs some help, Doctor.” Spike stopped in his tracks. He
cocked his head to the side, his trademark smirk in place as his tongue came to
rest behind his teeth.
“What kind of help, Nurse Buffy?”
She twirled around the post, giving him her back as she slowly climbed up the
end of the bed. She slipped the stethoscope off from around her neck and
glanced over her shoulder, giving him a come-hither stare.
“I seem to be having some heart problems, Doctor,” she replied huskily.
She dangled the stethoscope before him. “Think you can assist me?” she
questioned breathlessly, glancing down at her ass and leaving him with no doubt
as to how she would like to be “assisted.”
He couldn’t respond vocally; he just moved towards the bed and took the
stethoscope from her outstretched hand. It took him a few tries to
actually grab the thing since his eyes were locked on the white globes of her
smooth bottom. Once he finally grabbed the scope out of her hands, she
climbed on the bed to lie on her side, facing him. Giving him her best
“come-and-get-me” stare, she crooked her finger at him in invitation.
Spike stared at the stethoscope for a minute before tossing it aside. He
damn sure didn’t need the thing; he could hear Buffy’s heartbeat slamming
against her chest without it. The sound was driving him crazy.
Smiling knowingly, Buffy waited for him to advance on her. She rolled onto
her back so he could kneel on the bed between her legs. He spread his legs
wider, forcing her thighs even further apart to accommodate him. Reaching
down with one hand, he ripped her poor excuse for knickers right off with a
flick of his wrist. Pausing, he lifted the scrap of cloth to his nose,
inhaling her tangy scent while she watched.
His obvious pleasure in breathing in her scent made moisture pool on her curls.
God, she needed him inside her already!
Spike impatiently tossed the white lace aside. Using both hands, he
stretched her legs up to rest on his shoulders, allowing her ankles to lock
behind his head. Grabbing his cock with one hand, he teasingly slid it up
and down her hot pussy, lingering over her moist entrance, where her juices
instantly saturated the head. Positioning himself at her slick opening, he
grabbed her hips and pulled her smoothly forward onto his hard length, holding
her flush against him. The curls at the base of his shaft brushed against
her exposed clit, causing her to bite down on her bottom lip as she held back a
moan. After a moment he began flexing his hips, pulling back so that just
the head remained inside her, before he pushed his way back inside. Over
and over he kept up the torturous rhythm.
Buffy was mindless from the intense pleasure. Her head was thrown back,
exposing her vulnerable neck; Spike could see the blood pumping swiftly through
her veins. The sound of it pounded in his ears. He could feel his
balls tightening up, ready to let loose their load inside her. Moving one
hand from her hip, he brought it forward to thumb her clit. Back and
forth, around in a circle, he brushed his hand across the sensitive bundle of
nerves until she finally exploded. Her release triggered his own, his hips
continued to thrust as he shot his load inside her.
Vaguely, Spike recalled releasing her legs from his shoulders before he
collapsed on top of her. Realizing that he was probably crushing her, he
slipped out of her wet channel and twisted to fall backwards on the bed beside
her. Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close to him.
Soundlessly, he listened as her heart rate slowed to a normal rhythm.
“Did the doctor make it all better?” he asked once the post-coital haze wore
off.
“Mmmmhmmmm,” she mumbled before drifting into sleep.