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Chapter 31

Buffy raced up the steps, lifting her skirts to make it easier for her to move.  She needed to reach her borrowed room before she felt the next buzzing along her neck, not wanting to make him madder than he probably was right now. 

Bursting into the room, she quickly shut and locked the door, leaning against the hard wood for a moment to catch her breath.  Not that she was winded, per se, but the confining constraints around her waist did much to impede her ability to indulge in the proper technique necessary for the deeper breathing required from her headlong flight up the stairs.  Her eyes lifted and locked with Spike’s, trying desperately to gauge his mood. 

Leaning against the headboard, arms folded across his bare chest, a fierce scowl settled firmly in place – not in the best of moods, undoubtedly.  But he wasn’t yelling, which was promising.  And, before he could, she crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed near his hip. 

“Can you help me with my gown,” she asked quietly. 

If she had been looking towards him, she would have seen the vampire’s confused expression.  The slight trembling of his fingers as they lifted silently to the stays.  Instead, she just grew nervous as his fingers practically tore her gown apart in his haste. 

When the garment barely clung to her shoulders, she pulled away, rising to her feet and crossing to the screen to lay the dress over the top.  Clad in only her numerous undergarments – which were still more than she’d wear on a normal summer day back in Sunnydale – she faced him again.  His expression was unreadable and she wasn’t quite sure what to think, or to do. 

‘You can do this, Buffy,’ she mentally told herself.  ‘Women have been seducing their husbands for centuries.’ 

Her nervous gestures came off as refreshing innocence to the vampire ensconced upon the bed.  His eyes followed her hands as she began removing layer upon layer of undergarments until she stood before him nude.  Nearly groaned in agony when she bent over and retrieved them from the floor, her bare ass pointed enticingly in the air.  Spike forced himself not to move, not wanting to spoil the moment. 

It was the first time the Slayer had willingly initiated any type of intimate contact, and he found himself curious as to what she’d do.  How far she’d go.  And, damned if he’d let his rock-hard cock dictate his actions. 

Buffy couldn’t put off looking at him any longer.  Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she turned around and confronted Spike.  Except for a slight quirk in his scarred brow, he didn’t move.  Didn’t speak. 

It somehow made it easier for her to close the distance between them.  And if her hips happened to sway a little more than normal, more power to her… 

She crawled up on the end of the bed, kneeling between his feet.  Her eyes roamed over the smooth planes of his chest and abs, the defined muscles in his arms, that were exposed to her gaze.  Her perusal caused his cock to twitch beneath the sheet, and she found that she wanted to see him.  All of him.  Hands gripped the sheet covering his waist and lower limbs, and she pulled it inch by agonizing inch down his pale, unmoving form. 

Her eyes stared transfixed at the hard cock lying flush against his stomach.  She’d touched it before.  Tasted it.  Found herself wanting to do it again.  Drive him wild like the last time.  She crawled up his body, resettling herself closer to his crotch.  His cock twitched again, as if in anticipation of her touch.  As if it knew her intent, and approved. 

One hand reached out, wrapping around his cool length, fisting it from base to tip and back again in one smooth glide. 

His hips arched off the bed and into her hand, a hoarse “Slayer” hissed from his mouth.  Spike’s hands fisted in the sheets so that he wouldn’t flip her over and pound her into the mattress as she continued her sweet torment to his shaft.  His eyes closed tight as she squeezed him, her thumb snagged the drops of precum that stole from the slit, smearing it about the head on her upstroke.  Heaven.  Her touch felt like heaven.  Then her mouth… 

God. 

He had but a moment to feel the warmth of her breath before her mouth wrapped around his shaft, searing his flesh with her heat. 

This time it was her name that was shouted. Part curse, part reverence.  He couldn’t prevent his hands from slipping into her hair, massaging her scalp as he guided her movements.  He let her set the pace, not wanting to scare her off.  This was her show. Had been since the moment she’d asked him to help her with her gown. 

But, if she didn’t stop soon, the Slayer was going to get more than she bargained for this time around… 

“Slayer…” he called out, trying to get her attention.  She just continued with her delicious torture, employing her tongue along the underside of his shaft.  Holy fuck!  When did she learn how to do that?  “Buffy…please…wanna be inside you when I come.”  His voice sounded whiney, but he didn’t care.  He needed… 

Oh fuck! 

His little goddess of a wife was deepthroating him. Relaxing her throat muscles and taking him all in. He let her take him to the hilt twice before ripping her mouth from his cock, dragging her body up his as his body heaved with exertion to keep from spilling his seed in her mouth.  His eyes bore into hers, his passion-filled gaze leaving no doubt as to what he wanted to do with her. 

~*~ 

Buffy nearly purred in delight when she felt Spike’s hands slip into her hair and begin massaging her scalp, his surprisingly gently touch leading her movements, not forcing them.  Any second thoughts she had about pleasuring him this way, fell by the wayside, allowing her to appreciate the taste and feel of his cock in her mouth. 

She built up a steady rhythm, her tongue flicking over the veins along the underside of his shaft, silently thrilling as she felt his control slipping.  It gave her a sense of power that she did that to him.  Drove him to the brink.  Experimenting a little, she relaxed the muscles in her throat and tried to take him all in, pleased when found she could.   

A moment later her mouth was ripped from his cock, and she was forcefully dragged up his body. 

Had she done something wrong?  She’d thought he was enjoying himself.  Her eyes filled with tears…worried.  She lifted her eyes, uncertain, towards his, and nearly cowered at the lust-filled gaze she encountered.  A smile transformed her features.  She’d done it.  Made him lose control.  That’s why he’d pulled her away.  Not because of any misstep on her part. 

She leaned down, their lips almost brushing against one another, before she veered off and moved towards his ear.  Her tongue darted out, licking a wet path along the shell then teasing the orifice.  Warm breath became a sharp contrast to the cooling moisture, and she felt him tense beneath her, hands gripping her waist hard enough to bruise.  Her mouth closed around his lower lobe, teeth nibbling softly at the pliant flesh. 

“Playin’ with fire, pet,” he growled close to her ear. 

Oh, god, she hoped so! 

Buffy moved away from his ear, trailing kisses and the occasional nibble along his neck, her body sliding down his as she continued her path.  When her moist opening brushed against his cock, she mewled in delight.  She couldn’t wait any longer to feel him inside her.  Her tongue flicked along the hollow above his collarbone and she reached between them to grasp his cock, positioning it at her opening and quickly sheathing him within her body.  Joint cries of pleasure permeated the room when he was fully seated within her slick channel. 

Spike pushed away from the pillows, sitting up straight and pulling the Slayer’s body flush against his.  Twin peaks ground into his chest as he lowered his head to hers, a groan escaped his mouth to be caught by hers, and their parted lips fused to the others.  He lifted one hand to the back of her neck, holding her in place as his tongue plundered her mouth. 

As much as she enjoyed being kissed by Spike, and she had to admit, he was way better than Angel ever thought of being, she needed to move.  Using her knees as leverage, she lifted her hips, not stopping until just the tip remained inside her.  The position nearly disrupted their kiss, but before she could lower herself back down on his length, Spike shifted his hands to her shoulders and hauled her back onto his cock. 

Over and over it went.  Buffy lifting off his shaft.  Spike slamming her home.  When they could stand it no more, when they needed to increase their pace and reach their pinnacle, Spike flipped their bodies and rammed his cock into her body.  Buffy lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as she strained against him.  The bed creaked from his violent thrusts.  Neither cared.  Both were caught up in each other. 

Their lovemaking was different than before.  As if the wall separating them this past week had been crumbled.  They were like Elizabeth and William, only they weren’t.  The emotions the two shared were present, only this time it was the Slayer and Spike feeling them.  Expressing them.  Bodies saying what words could not.  At least not yet, anyway. 

“Spike…I need…” Buffy whimpered.  Her hands struggled to pull him closer, urging him to give her body that final release. 

“Who do you belong to?” he rasped in her ear, blunt teeth nibbling along her neck causing goose bumps to pepper her flesh. 

“I’m yours, Spike.  Only yours…” she answered without hesitation. 

“Mine!” he growled possessively and he allowed his features to shift, burying his fangs in her neck and sending the Slayer spiraling into orgasm.   

“William!” she gasped as she came, arms and legs tightening reflexively around his body.  His eyes nearly crossed as he felt her inner walls milk his shaft, and he thrust maybe a handful of times more before he spilled his seed within her womb. 

When the last shudder left his body, Spike quickly released her neck and licked the fresh marks closed before collapsing on top of the Slayer.  Not wanting to burden her too long with his weight, he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him, his cock still buried inside her juicy quim.  His hands roamed over her slick back, soothing her while her breathing and heart rate returned to normal.   

~*~*~*~*~ 

“’m sorry about last night,” she whispered some time later.  Probably not the wisest thing to say when she felt him stiffen beneath her.  But, better to get it out in the open.  A fresh start for them.  Before he had a chance to blast her for her foolishness she blurted out, “I just…I needed to talk to someone…and…and Renee…only…I couldn’t remember where she lived.” 

“Shhh…’s alright, luv,” he murmured.  He was still angry.  Rightly so.  Wanted to paddle her backside so that she couldn’t sit down for a week.  But he wouldn’t.  Part of the reason why he was so angry was because he’d been so damn scared.  Scared that she’d been hurt.  Or worse.  When James had told him what had happened, his first instinct had been to kill the bastards that had dared touch his woman.  His demon had howled in rage at being denied his vengeance…but that had quickly subsided, leaving in its wake a fierce need to see the Slayer, reassure himself that she was alright.   

His unstable emotions were part of the reason that he wasn’t going to do anything.  On some level he knew his anger was irrational.  His growing feelings for the Slayer making him subject to rash judgments, and even more reckless actions.  Also, things had changed just now between them.  She’d placed herself in his hands, freely acknowledging his claim over her.  And, this moment was too fragile to ruin it by exacting penance for her misdeeds.

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