"Come on, Spike," Buffy whispered with a lazy seduction, letting her lips graze the curve of his ear, "Give me a show."

Spike smirked and leaned back again her, using his right hand to deftly unbuckle his belt. With the left he unzipped his jeans and watched with satisfaction when the pale shaft sprung out at full-salute. He glanced slyly back at the blond behind him before letting his eyes fall shut and allowing his left hand to slip around the rock hard column.

Biting his inner-cheek to suppress a moan, he began to slowly pump in and out of his hand. Behind closed eyes, he imagined Buffy behind him - how she looked, what she was feeling. He saw her flushed pink cheeks. Her slightly glaze-eyed look of wonder and lust as she observed him. The tiny gasps and groans that escaped her swollen red lips as she felt the pressure build within her while watching him work towards his release. He could feel the rhythmic grinding of her hips again his back and it drove him to pump harder, faster.

He was gulping deep breaths of the musky air around him now. Could feel more than hear her panting behind him, then she leant forwards, her lips brushing his ear again,

"Spike..." hearing her voice drove him on. He bucked his hips up again, tightening the pressure around his twitching cock and he could feel the whit-hot ache build inside his belly, "...I love you."

With a strangled howl of ecstasy, he slammed his hand down his shaft once more, spilling his seed over his bare stomach and the pants he still had pulled up to his thighs and then collapsed against the back of the chair.

His eyelids drooped, and tired yet sated, he slowly pulled himself out of the chair.

Allowing his jeans to drops the rest of the way to the floor, he stepped out of the remaining clothing and sauntered over to the bed. He slipped underneath the sheets and sighed.
He had always loved that fantasy.

Turning to his side, he drifted off into sweet dreams of his slayer.




THE END