She waited a week.

Deep in her mind she knew it was insane, but her body was in control, her body which was a mass of quivering nerve endings and forbidden desire.

It was her body that found its way to his crypt one late afternoon. Her body that made its way down the ladder to his bedroom. Her eyes which ran over his nude body barely covered to the waist by a sheet.

Her tongue that licked her suddenly dry lips.

Shaking herself out of her momentary daze, Buffy took a deep breath then loudly cleared her throat.

One crystal blue eye blinked open, then the other, and Spike watched her warily.

"Candles. Foreplay."

He blinked again, this time in surprise, and propped himself up on his elbows. "Huh?"

"Candles. Foreplay," she insisted, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

The memory hit him and a slow, sensual smile crept over his face. "Ah...yes. And you came to me to learn this? There are probably thousands of naughty websites devoted to the art of candles and sex."

Buffy could feel herself blushing. She had known the information was out there, but still she'd come to him, been unable to stop herself from coming to him.

Like a great big cat, Spike slid from the bed, muscles rolling as he moved to light several fat candles. "Just need to let these burn a bit, luv." Looking over his shoulder, he flashed her a wicked grin. "Unless you want to make a bigger mess, those clothes need to vanish."

Pursing her lips tightly, Buffy gave him a short nod and began to remove her clothes.

Spike grinned even wider and turned back to watch the candles burn, slowly melting the wax to liquid. As he listened to the rustle of her clothing, breathed in the scent of her need, his cock stirred and he patted it lovingly.

Seven days was six days, twenty three hours and fifty odd minutes too long. Now that he'd had a taste of her, going without was impossible. But, he'd held off going to her, instinctively knowing that she'd come to him.

He'd never expected this, though.

"Is this going to hurt?" Buffy asked, her voice a bit harsh with impatience.

Spike turned to find her sitting naked on the edge of the bed. His cock sprang fully erect, bouncing off his stomach, and he watched her eyes widen. "Afraid of a little pain, Slayer?"

Dragging her eyes away from his long, hard cock, she scowled up at him. "I'm not afraid of anything where you're concerned, Spike."

"Brave words, lover."

"Don't call me that," she snapped.

His eyes narrowed and he shot back, "You prefer fucktoy?"

Jumping to her feet, she reached for her clothes, spitting, "This was momentary insanity and the moment's..."

Grabbing her arms, he interrupted her tirade with his mouth on hers in a hard, passionate kiss.

Buffy melted helplessly against him, kissing him back with all the anger and lust she had for him, and forcing aside the small voice in her head crying for her to stop.

"It'll never be over," he murmured against her lips, before softening the kiss and cupping her backside to bring her against him. Her body curved into his, her stomach rubbing the tip of her erection until he groaned. "Candles, foreplay are going to have to wait, luv."

Buffy's only response was a growl and a hard shove that sent him onto his back on the bed. As she pounced on him, he grinned and surrendered.

"Like being on top, don't you."

"Shut up." Crawling up his body, she straddled his hips and smashed her mouth down on his. Spike's hands found her waist and he rocked her against his pelvis, feeling her wetness dripping down and coating his throbbing cock. With a jerk of his hips, he thrust into her, and she finished it by driving down and impaling herself.

Lifting her head, Buffy keened as passion and pain and need boiled over inside her. He was stretching her, hurting her just enough to make her even hotter. Just like that first time. She had been shocked at the size of him, at his strength to hold her up and move her, at the way her body eagerly adjusted to him, at the twinges of pain that blossomed into ecstasy.

She'd never come so fast in her life. Just a few hard thrusts and she'd been gasping and clinging to him, her body shuddering around his.

And he'd kept going and going...

Buffy cried out, slamming her hips down again and again, driving him to her core, her body one big, taut nerve. Spike's hands squeezed her bottom, his back arching off the bed as he drove into her, meeting her thrusts. His mouth was open, airless pants issuing from him, and his eyes were the color of a storm cloud. Her eyes were the roiling sea, her body bouncing with each wave.

Her first orgasm hit like a freight train and she bucked on top of him, yelling in surprise. As she shuddered atop him, her muscles clenching around his cock like a fist, Spike gripped her tightly and rolled them. Buffy collapsed beneath him, gasping for breath, and he began a series of short, quick thrusts. His lowered his head to her breasts, running cool kisses over her heated flesh before sucking a nipple between his lips.

She arched to him, her hands rising to clutch at his shoulders. As he moved in her, she felt the muscles roll beneath her fingers and her hands slid down his back, kneading his skin, until she reached his hard buttocks. Her touch elicited a growl from him which sent vibrations through her breast and desire straight to her womb. Lifting her knees, she pressed them against his sides and began to move with him.

The sound of her heartbeat filling in his ears, Spike pressed his mouth in the valley between her breasts and thrust deeply. With another growl, he let himself go, coming in rapid bursts that left him shuddering and groaning on top of her.

Breathing hard, Buffy blinked open her eyes and stared down at the head pillowed on her breasts. She frowned and shoved at Spike's shoulders.

Her body was on the edge of release, and he'd stopped.

"Hey."

She could feel him grin against her breasts and her nipples hardened, causing her to moan helplessly.

Spike levered himself off of her and the bed. "Candles, foreplay, luv."

"Kinda late for that," she groused, sitting up and gnawing on her lower lip in agitation.

Knowing full well that he had finished without her, Spike smirked and reached in the drawer of his night stand for a length of silk rope.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat and she stared at the rope. "You're going to tie me up?" she squeaked, feeling her desire renew itself.

As he turned back to her, a serious expression wiped out the smirk on his face, and he softly said, "You know you can break this at any time, right Buffy?"

Buffy nodded, eyes still wide, as desire tightened her stomach.

Kneeling on the bed, Spike gently took her wrists and wrapped the rope around them, then tied them over her head to the bedframe.

A sense of helplessness washed over her, as she surrendered her control to him. She knew that she could easily free herself, but the idea that she couldn't, stayed at the forefront of her thoughts.

And made her hotter.

Spike watched the passion flitter across her flushed face, her breathing quicken, her hands pull lightly on the ropes as her hips squirmed, and his cock responded hungrily.

"Beautiful," he murmured, reaching for the first candle.

"What..." She licked her dry lips, trying again, "What do you do exactly?"

"You really don't know?" As she shook her head, anticipation mingled with fear of the unknown in her eyes, amazement filled him, along with a bit of smugness at the knowledge that he was truly the teacher in this. "It's the hot wax, luv. When the drips hit there's pain, but if you let it, that pain can lead to such pleasure."

The sensual way he described what he was going to do sent a bolt of lust through her and she squirmed.

"Okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "'K."

As Spike straddled her thighs, a candle in each hand, Buffy took a shuddering breath and steeled herself.

Spike grinned down at his brave little Slayer, and tipped one of the candles.

Two red drops of wax splashed onto one of her breasts, and Buffy moaned, arching her back into the sting. She panted hollowly, her eyes wide and unseeing as the pain increased her need, and her pulse began to throb between her legs.

A few drops anointed her other breast, and she hissed softly. As one hit her nipple, it hardened sharply and she whimpered.

The aroma of her arousal growing with each touch of the wax to her taut flesh, Spike watched the red drops spreading across her breasts, watched her nipples harden to painful peaks, watched her face flush even more with pleasure. Gently he rocked against her, rubbing the underside of his cock against her belly.

Buffy groaned and wrapped her fingers around the rope.

"More?" he asked huskily.

"Yes," she whimpered, arching her head back and thrusting her breasts into the air.

Grinning, Spike obliged, scattering more hot wax across her heaving breasts. He felt her legs rise, her knees pressing into his back as her stomach clenched beneath his cock, and he aimed the next drop at her nipple.

As it hit, Buffy spasmed, climaxing without any stimulation on her clit. She cried out softly, desperately, her body wriggling as the ecstasy continued to build through the orgasm.

Blowing out the candles, Spike tossed them negligently on the floor and raised off her enough to grab her legs and pull them over his shoulders. Her body overflowing with her own hot juices, his cock slid effortlessly into her, thrusting deeply, driven by his own lust for her.

Buffy cried out, clenching her inner muscles around him, as another orgasm rolled through her, leaving her breathless and clinging to him. Spike leaned forward, driving the base of his cock against her hard clit on each stroke, and Buffy arched her back, her heels thrumming on his shoulders, trying to quicken the pace.

"Fuck me harder," she demanded hoarsely, sweat beading on her forehead, her body on fire.

Gritting his teeth, Spike obeyed her, slamming into her, pounding her into the mattress, his pelvis slapping harder and harder against her upturned bottom.

As another climax rapidly approached, Buffy's eyes flew open in shock and she ripped her hands free of the ropes, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him deeper inside her. A wordless cry tore from her and she went wild, body bucking and twitching beneath his.

Sobbing, Buffy collapsed limply against the pillows, tingling from head to foot. Spike raised up, taking a hold of her ankles and pushing them back towards her head. On his knees, he thrust hard, his teeth clenched, his nostrils flared, as his need for her became unbearable. With a howl, he let himself go, exploding into her in spastic thrusts, until he collapsed next to her, gasping loudly.

Letting her quivering legs fall to the bed, Buffy sighed softly, her body nearly glowing with repletion, her mind dull and empty except for vague remnants of desire.

Slowly Spike turned on his side, propping his head on one hand, while the other idly picked at the dried wax littering her body. "You look like you have the measles, luv."

"Pervert," she managed to groan.

"Who was the one who came here with the idea?"

"Who gave me the idea?" she pointed out.

Leaning down, Spike licked gently along her earlobe, then whispered, "Next time, luv, shave your quim and we'll try the wax there."

Buffy shuddered in anticipation, lust and just a hint of fear.

The End

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