"Buffy?" Spike asked hoarsely, his eyes locked on the flushed skin between her breasts.

"I know it's terribly trite," she said, unfastening her pants and kicking off her shoes.  "But we could die tomorrow.  We probably will die tomorrow, and I don't want to die without being with you again."

"You were never really with me," he said sadly, then gulped as she shimmied out of her pants, revealing a red spandex and silk thong.

"I know, but I will be tonight.  I...need you, Spike.  More importantly, I want you, really you."

He swallowed hard again as she reached him and pressed her hands to his chest then slid them down to tug his t-shirt from his jeans. "Are you sure?"

"God yes," she half growled, half moaned in longing as her hands slipped beneath his shirt to caress his chest.

"No regrets after?"

"Spike?  Do want me or not?" she asked, a bit exasperated at his lack of response.

With a growl, Spike grabbed her hips and jerked her against him to let her feel just how much he wanted her.  As she sank against him, he dipped his head and kissed her--gently, hesitantly at first, then with the hungry passion with which they were both familiar.  Passion quickly spun out of control, and Spike turned them, urging Buffy backwards to the cot.  They fell together, still kissing, and Buffy pulled him between her legs, wrapping them around his hips.

They broke the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head and again to wriggle her out of her bra.  Spike's fingers danced across her nipples and she arched against him, her own hands going to the snap and zipper of his jeans.  As Buffy's hand pressed against his constrained erection, Spike groaned and slid down her body to suckle her nipples into hard buttons.  With one hand he tugged on his jeans, while with his other he touched her face, her lips, until Buffy moaned and sucked one of his fingers into her mouth.

Spike grunted as she caught his wrist and guided the finger in and out in a parody of sex.  He felt his toes curling and his cock throbbing, and tugged harder on his jeans, finally freeing his erection.  Sliding back up her body, he replaced his finger with his tongue and she sucked on that just as avidly.  Her hands ran down his back, cupped his ass, pushed his jeans to his knees. Her hips rocked against him, and her panties were soaked with desire, wetting his cock and balls as they rubbed together.

"Hurry," she panted as she tore her mouth from his and arched her head back into the thin pillow.  "Please...now..."

Rising to his knees, Spike reached between them and yanked her thong aside, baring her entrance.  With a powerful thrust, aided by her hands on his ass tugging at him, he drove into her, making the cot rock and creak.

Buffy bit back a cry of pleasure, her whole body tense and throbbing with desire.  It had been too long and her body was hot and wet and ready.  As Spike began a quick pace of deep thrusts, she wrapped her legs back around him and lifted her head to fasten her teeth in his shoulder.

Spike growled helplessly and fondled one breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching her nipple, as he used his other hand for leverage to fuck her harder.  When her head fell back, he kissed her hard, groaning into her mouth against her clenched teeth and then dipped his head and ran hungry, nipping kisses over her throat and shoulders.

Her fingers scraped down his back, her heels pounded against his hips, and she rocked with him, keening low in her throat as she drove her body against his.  Body humming with need, she bucked her hips upwards, meeting his thrusts, nearly bouncing on the cot.

Burying his mouth in the notch of her throat, Spike freed her breast from his grip and fell forward onto her.  His hips churned harder, his hands going down to lift her ass off the cot, as he drove deeper and harder into her hot, clenching body.  His cock ached, his balls tightened, and he angled himself to brush her clit.

As her body shuddered, Buffy cried out and tightened every muscle she had around him.  She opened her eyes in time to see his eyes roll back in his head and  his nostrils flare.  With a loud grunt he came, bucking into her.  She held him to her, hips still rising to meet him, and trusted that he'd see to her own pleasure.

As Spike panted into her neck and his cock slipped slowly in and out of her, he slid one hand between them and thumped his fingers against her swollen clit, knowing just how much pressure she needed.  With a sharp, hoarse cry, she spasmed and shivered in orgasm.

Slowly her arms and legs fell away from him, and Spike angled to her side, his cock slipping from her.  Buffy half-turned to face him and gave him a gentle kiss.

"No regrets?" he asked hesitantly, holding his breath needlessly.

She smiled sleepily.  "Not a one.  This felt right."

"You look happy."  It was disconcerting--she'd never looked happy after sex.

"I am, weird as it sounds."  Snuggling against him, she slipped one knee between his and pressed a kiss to his chin.  "What about you?"

"You know I am," he replied, his voice choked with emotion.

She looked up and saw the love shining from his soulful eyes, and smiled again.  "I'm glad.  Glad we could make each other happy."

His concerns dispersed and he gave her a wolfish grin.  "Want to try for a second happy?"

"We probably should get some sleep," she protested feebly, her voice rising to a gasp when three of his fingers drove into her. "Or not."  Grinning back, she kissed him as she began to writhe with renewed desire.

The End