Chapter 3

Buffy and Spite, or whatever his real name was, checked the number on the outside of the house – 1630.  The windows were dark; whoever was inside had gone to bed.  Buffy stopped before she reached the door, dropping her voice to a whisper as she turned to her companion. 

“I think this feels familiar, but I kind of don’t feel right going in the front door.”

“Well, love.  Not sure how else you want to get in.”  He nodded towards the yard.  “You fancy a tree climb?”

Buffy reluctantly let go of his hand as she wandered towards the large tree abutting the house.  She touched the bark and glanced up; there was an open window above an overhanging half-roof.  Turning to Spite, she beckoned him towards her.

“Look!  Up there; we could get in that way.  You up for it?”

The blond sauntered towards her, eyes glinting with merriment and his expressive tongue curling behind his teeth.  “I think you’ll find, pet, that I’m always up.” He finished his assertion with a raised eyebrow.

Buffy felt her insides quiver at the implied meaning of his words.  They must be a couple, she wouldn’t get that delicious deep down tingly feeling with just anybody, would she?  She rolled her eyes at his antics and made to climb the tree.  Firm hands were suddenly at her waist hoisting her upwards to grab the lowest branch.  She dangled there momentarily as he let go of his grip on her, the imprint of his fingers burning her flesh with their loss.  Buffy looked around, seeking him out – a nip at her ass cheeks had her squealing then squirming as heat flooded her groin.  “Hey!  No fair!  I can’t defend myself like this.”

“Yeah, love, but I just couldn’t help myself – all pert and round and just, well, edible.  Firm peaches, all juicy like.  Can’t blame a bloke for having a nibble.”

“Hmm.  Well, not helping though with the getting into the house.  Can you give me a leg up?”

“I’d like to give you a leg-over.”

Buffy blushed.   What was it about him that had her insides all turning to goo with a glance or a word?  She swung gently on the branch until she felt her feet meeting upward pressure.  Spite boosted her upwards until she managed to swing her legs over the branch and hop onto the half roof.  From there she scrambled through the window.  She found herself in a typical teenage girl’s bedroom complete with pop band posters, stuffed animals and bling bling jewellery.  It felt right; felt like hers.  She spotted a number of photographs of herself with two other people, a red haired girl and a dark haired boy and that clinched it.  Must be her room.   Reaching into a drawer she pulled out the handful of crucifixes she found there together with the sharpened stakes and bottles labelled holy water.  What the……

A rustle and a thud dragged her attention back from her musings and she let the strange items drop back into the drawer.  Where was Spite?  She moved over to the window, leaned out hands braced on the frame.  The said blond was sprawled on the floor at the foot of the tree, arms splayed out at his sides.

“Spite!  What are you doing?” she hissed at him. 

“Oh, you know.  Thought I’d take a nap.   What do you think, you silly bint?  I fell, didn’ I?”

“Well, hurry up – I’ve found some pictures and weird stuff.  Come on!”

Muttering about ‘bloody women’ he quickly shimmied up the tree and scrambled onto the roof.  Buffy stood back from the window, arms crossed and little booted foot tapping.  Spite didn’t move.

“Well, what are you waiting for?  Come on in!”

“Thing is love, I think there’s a barrier or something; I tried to get in before and bounced off.  Look!”

Spite leaned forward, hands upright, palms to the front – he gurgled in surprise as he found no resistance and tumbled headlong through the open window.  Buffy cringed at the sound; surely somebody would come and check out the noise.  She fell to her knees besides the prone figure of her maybe boyfriend, hissing at him to be quiet.  He clawed at the leather coat covering his face revealing a pissed off scowl.

“I swear!  I couldn’t get in before!  Bounced right back!”

“Well, maybe you just don’t remember it right.  Cos look – you’re all in now!”

“Yeah, seems like.  Weird.  So, where’s this stuff you’ve found?”

“Here, in this drawer.  Crosses and bottles of Holy Water.  Sharpened sticks like the one I had before.  What’s it all for?”

“Don’t know, love, but I’m not anxious to find out.  That stuff gives me the willies.”  Spite shuddered.  

Settling back on the bed and kicking off the cluster of stuffed animals he found there, Spite shrugged off his duster and slapped it down on the floor.  Arms bare and extremely well muscled as they forced their way out of the sleeves of the black t-shirt he wore, Buffy couldn’t take her eyes off him as he flexed one bicep and beckoned her to him with a finger.  Without conscious thought Buffy’s feet began to eat up the distance to the bed, her eyes unable to break contact with his blue orbs.  The bed dipped as she crouched over him, her hair sweeping down to brush the toes of his doc martins.

“Ewww!  Boots, Spite – this is a silk coverlet!  Off, take them off!”

“Demanding little chit, aren’t you?  You trying to seduce me, kitten?”

Buffy rolled her eyes; but still she crawled up the bed, mesmerized by the light in his eyes, the moist kissable lips, the chiseled angles of his cheekbones.  The boots hit the floor during her climb and she came to a halt with her arms braced on either side of his chest, her lips mere inches from his and her breath coming in short gasps.  The connection between them was electric; as she breathed out, Spite breathed in, eager to drag the air she exhaled into his lungs so as not to waste any part of her.  He was completely bewitched by this young girl, knowing deep within himself despite the loss of memory that they were linked and that she belonged here in his embrace. 

In a rush of movement, he grabbed her upper arms and crushed her lips in a bruising kiss.  Buffy gasped as his tongue flicked along her mouth, embarrassed when she felt a gush of moisture between her legs.  Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was erratic, and she was finding it increasingly difficult to think.  She was here.  On her bed.  Her mother was probably next-door.  She didn’t have a clue who this man was really, and she was about to do………what she always swore she’d save for her wedding night.  Had probably already done it in fact because look at him!  Oh, she was under no illusions; he was older than her and liked to play up the bad boy image.  A quick peck and a fumble wouldn’t be enough for him.  But strangely, she felt that if she wanted to stop now he wouldn’t fight her, would do whatever she asked of him.

But she didn’t want to stop him.  She needed to touch him.

Shyly, and without breaking the kiss, she sneaked her hand under the tight top he wore, panting with pleasure as she felt the ripple of muscles beneath her fingers.  Abs to die for……..she could count them just by running her hand across his flat stomach.  She was desperate to look at him now so sat up and straddled his waist with her legs either side.  A surge of female pride raced through her as she saw the look on Spite’s face. 

He swallowed nervously and wriggled a little in an attempt to ease the ache in his groin caused by the jailbait vixen presently gyrating on his family jewels.  God, he was about to shoot his load and he was damn sure this wasn’t his first time with a woman.  He wasn’t sure whether this was his first time with this woman, however, and he wanted to make sure that if it was, it wouldn’t be his last.  She was special; he knew that.  Knew bugger all else, but he knew that.  So he’d better do this right then.

Hazel eyes nervously watched azure blue as they darkened with lust.   Did she know this?  Had they done this before?  She still wasn’t sure.  She stayed astride him as he sat up and cupped her jaw, mesmerised as his lips drew ever nearer.  The first touch was feather light, just a glance of lips on lips that left her aching for more.  A mewl of need left her and as her mouth opened to vocalise the loss the lips were back, firmer this time with a tentative sweep of his tongue along the sensitised flesh before he slid it inside to wrap around hers.  More mewling as he sucked her tongue and rasped it with his teeth, the pleasure she was feeling heightened as one hand had now left her jaw and was moving oh so slowly down her back to find the hem of her top.  Deliciously cool fingers drew icy paths along her heated flesh; that felt very familiar.  The difference in their skin temperature set off alarm bells somewhere at the back of her mind but she was too far gone in the moment to care.

Buffy felt the material of her top bunch up at the back as the cool fingers gripped it and pulled it upwards.  In a daze, she pulled away from his lips and lifted up her arms to help him ease the top from her shaking body.  The neck of the shirt got caught on her necklace and it took a bit of wrestling to untangle the two.  Buffy dropped her arms and let her golden hair bounce down around her now naked shoulders stopping Spite in mid-reach for the front-clasp of her bra.  Outlined as she was from the light of the moon streaming in from the window her hair took on a halo-like effect that had him penning poetry in his head.  Was he a writer?  Seemed that way, the thoughts he was having, but he doubted his mental scribblings would make the transition to written verse.  What the buggering hell was ‘effulgent’ anyway?

He continued undressing her, unhitching the bra to allow her small, pert breasts to fall into his waiting hands.  His eyes flicked back from her face to the perfection of her breasts noting with delight the puckering of her nipples as he did so.  His thumbs hovered above the hardened nubs until Buffy arched her back to force the contact she was desperate for.  Her mouth opened in a silent ‘o’ of pleasure, eyes closed, head thrown back as she delighted in the sensations rippling through her.  From just his hands.  On her breasts.  The blush started again but she shook it off.  She had other things for her blood to be doing……..

“Baby…….lift up……need to get these off you…..”

His voice was like liquid satin, his husky tones caressing her just as his hand continued to brush over her sensitised skin.  Without conscious thought, Buffy did as he asked, scrambling off him to ease his access, watching his face as he undid the button of her jeans and pulled the material towards him to get tension to lower the zipper.  His fingers dipped beneath the waistband as he did so and she shivered when the delicious pressure left her as he started to drag the denim down her legs.  The jeans stuck at her boots.  Stupid boots.

“Oh………sugar!”

Spite laughed at her affronted face.  “I really will need to teach you some swear words, love.  That was pathetic.”

“Help much?  Are you just gonna lay there or give me a hand?”

“Gonna give you more than a hand, pet.  Ok, give me your foot.”

It wasn’t really what Buffy had envisaged as her first time…….although really, this could be any time at all!  But as she didn’t remember anything prior to waking up with her hand splayed possessively across the chest of the hottie presently unzipping her boots, she was wiping the slate clean in her head and erring on the side of caution. 

The boots were tossed to opposite corners of the room and the jeans soon joined them to leave her clad in only a tiny pair of white panties.  The contrast between the white cotton and her sun-kissed skin was stark in the moonlight, and the darker patch where her curls showed she wasn’t really a natural blonde drew Spite’s eyes.  Gorgeous.

“Hey!”  She slapped his chest; his totally clothed chest.  “Why am I sitting here in the altogether when you’re all with the clothes having?  No fair.”  She stuck out her bottom lip in a delicious pout.  Spite nearly creamed his pants.

“Fair do’s, love; shift up a bit and I’ll join you.”

Buffy scooted backwards, eager to see him reveal the treasure that was his chest.  Spite stood at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on her as his clothes disappeared.  First came the shirt – ripped off, quite literally, by his eager and shaking hands.  Buffy’s hungry eyes zeroed in on his pink nipples; his pale skin; the muscular, yet spare, physique.  He was breathtaking.  Pale hands moved to the button fly of his jeans, and she lived every single pop of the material as inch by tantalising inch the masculine beauty of his groin was revealed.  Flat tummy, defined hips, line of dark hair that drew the eye down to the tangle of curls wrapping his manhood in a sinuous embrace.  She licked her lips and swallowed, hard.  Grin on his face, Spite pulled the jeans down his thighs to reveal his swollen cock, bobbing as he bent over to drag the garment off his legs.  Then he stood up; proud, naked – glorious. 

She hadn’t realised she’d gasped, but his chuckle broke the moment.  “Like what you see, pet?”

“Vain much?  I’ve seen better…..”

“And you know that…..how?  What with the mind wipe and all?  And anyway…….I doubt it.”

He was right.  She knew it.  He knew she knew it. 

His smirk was infuriating; and sexy.  Very, very sexy.

Buffy patted the bed, eyes never leaving him but unable to settle on any one part.  He prowled towards her making her breath hitch in her throat, the predatory look in his eyes making her shiver.  Her heart felt as if it would break her chest it was pounding so fast and she was aching to get her hands on him.  Surely this was something she was used to?  And if not………why not?

The bed dipped as Spite knelt on the mattress, naked as the day he was born.  “Hey, love. You’re cheating!”

Buffy gasped as the smack of the elastic forming the waistband of her now shredded panties left welts on her hips.  God that felt good!  He’d just reached out a finger and flicked them away from her body. All caveman-like.  And now she was bare to his gaze.  And wet, oh boy was she wet!

“That’s better; don’t want nothin’ between us, Buffy.  Gonna make you feel so good.”

She didn’t reply, couldn’t – her mouth was too dry and anyway her brain had lost the ability to form words.  Her eyes, however, said everything. 

Cool lips descended on hers in slow motion; she watched him move towards her until he was too close to focus on then closed her eyes to savour the moment.  Buffy whimpered as the expected contact didn’t come, eyelids fluttering, mouth opening to bemoan the loss.  The whimper was swallowed up when Spite bridged the last gap and softly brushed his lips against hers.  Buffy arched against him bringing her bare breasts into contact with his chest, the feel of flesh on flesh sending tingles through them both and galvanising Spite into action.  His eager hands gripped her shoulders and dragged her down the bed, his body following to cover hers, knee nudging her legs apart so that he could lie between them.   They fit perfectly, Spite’s hips aligned with hers, his cock resting at her opening and straining to gain entry to her moist depths.  

His left hand gripped hers, fingers intertwined and resting by the side of her flushed face.  His right hand stroked her hair down from her crown, lingering at her cheek then ghosting on past her shoulder to cup her breast and caress her aching nipple.  Buffy moaned into the kiss that threatened to take her breath.  The cool fingers continued their trail down her side rubbing circles on the silken skin of her thigh before hooking her knee and bringing her leg up to wrap around his waist.  Her heart raced as his cock slid along her pussy lips and over her sensitised clit; he shifted slightly to reach between them, his fingers quickly becoming coated with her juices as he ran them along her slit and teased at her swollen nub. 

“Open up for me, love.”

The whisper against her lips had her eager to comply and she threw her other leg around his hips, suddenly desperate to have him close to her.  Spite guided his hard length to her entrance, sliding easily over her slickened skin.  He fought the urge to thrust into her and fuck her hard, couldn’t quite forget the flowery poetry that had invaded his mind earlier and which now had him thinking of similes for her golden skin and sinuous limbs.  No – this time would be gentle and memorable; next time he’d show her how raw it could be. 

And still he fought the urge to bite her.  What kind of kink was that?

Slowly, he pressed forwards, his cock disappearing inside her heated depths inch by tantalising inch….until he encountered a barrier.  Shocked, he stopped – drawing back from the kiss to look at her.  She was a virgin?  Buffy’s eyes were wide as she blinked up at him.  He’d stopped – why had he stopped?

“Love…..I…we haven’t …this is your first time…..”

“I don’t care………I need you, Spite……….I’m dying here!  I want you…..”

“But love…….”

All protests died on his lips as Buffy seized his ass and pulled him towards her; he felt the pressure pop as her maidenhead was breached and he was sheathed fully inside her tight pussy.  Buffy cried out in pain and he smothered it with a kiss, not anxious to be caught in such a delicate position should her mother decide to come and investigate what was hurting her little girl.  Buffy was tense with the pain and he stayed motionless, continuing to kiss her gently to calm her.  When the need to move was overwhelming, he started rocking gently, feeling Buffy’s body relax as the pain became less and pleasure started to build. 

“Ok, love?” he murmured and she answered him with a nod and by tightening her legs again behind his back.  Instinctively, she met his tentative thrusts by bucking her hips to meet him, her hands playing with the curls at the nape of his neck and her tongue battling with his as their kiss deepened.  The pain had been white hot when he’d first slid fully inside her, but now she felt a thrumming through her veins and a rising pleasure that centred where they were joined.  She wanted more.

Spite felt the change in her body that signalled the end of the pain and moved accordingly.  He withdrew almost entirely then slid back inside her, her tight muscles gloving his cock and bringing him rapidly to the point where he’d have to pound into her.  He was only human after all………..

Buffy surprised him by thrusting up towards him, wordlessly asking him to go deeper, harder.  Who was he to disappoint a lady?   His actions became more frenzied, the mattress bowing beneath them as he set a steady rhythm.  His mouth left hers to trail moist kisses along her heated skin and down her neck; again he found himself fighting the urge to bite her – not gently but really tear into her – but he settled for nipping at her and soothing the marks with his strangely cool tongue.  The combination of his cock stretching her almost painfully and the tiny bites at her neck had Buffy going into sensory overload and with a cry that was quickly swallowed by his kiss, she orgasmed, her body arching off the bed as she gave herself over to the pleasure.   Spite allowed his self-restraint to dissolve and he buried himself inside her with hard, fast strokes to climax seconds after she had and while her pussy was still rippling around him. 

Man, that was the best fuck of his life………..that he could remember.  But somehow, he thought even if he did remember, it would still be number one. 

“That was………wow………did you…I mean…was it….okay?”

Buffy was terrified that her inexperience – which there was now no doubt she had – would have disappointed him. 

“Love, it was amazing.  Honestly.  ‘M feeling all top dog right about now – special, you know?  Don’t know why we were waiting but can’t say I’m sorry we did, would hate for me to have forgotten that moment.  You alright, not too sore?”

“Bit tender……….but I think I know how to fix that……”

“That right?”

“Uh huh……..wanna help me?”

The sun was rising as the two fell into an exhausted slumber, peeping round curtains hastily drawn together in their attempt to keep the night.

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