Buffy burst into the crypt, stake poised and ready to plunge into his pale chest. That is...until she collided with it.

“What the?!” Spike managed, before a streak of blonde hair nearly toppled him over. He’d been just about to slide the heavy wooden plank across the door, serving as a lock of sorts, and to sleep the day away when it had flown open. He hadn’t seen his attacker, as the sunlight pouring inside had blinded, and just barely missed him. Now, as he caught a stumbling, small warm body against his own, he knew who the nuisance was.

“Slayer!” he roared. “Close the damn door before I’m able to fit into a Dirt Devil!”

Composing herself, Buffy quickly slammed the door shut. She then turned to look at a shirtless Spike, clad only in tight-fitting black jeans, who was still rubbing at his sore eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the door, stake still in hand.

“You know, I shouldn’t have done that. You could use a tan.” She said, indicating his white, muscular chest.

Spike’s only response was to narrow his eyes menacingly at her and straighten up to hook his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans, rocking back on the heels of his bare feet.

“What in the bloody hell do you want, Slayer?” he asked, irritated.

‘I want you to put a shirt on.’ She thought, her eyes once again drifting to his well-muscled arms and torso. It’d been weeks since Spike had told her he loved her. She shuddered at the memory…and at the sight of his biceps shifting under his taut skin as he braced one arm on the wall. Strong arms, she remembered. She’d been in them before…

“Uh, I...” Buffy couldn’t quite shake herself back to the present, but then the stake in her hand brought her back. “I’m gonna kill you.” She finished the last bit with a cold satisfied little smile and a nod.

Spike snorted and then leaned back against the cold wall of the mausoleum, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah? What else is new?”

Buffy pushed herself away from the door and took slow, measured steps towards him. “This time I’m serious. I’ve had a really bad day, and collected a lot pent up aggression. And since you’re the only vamp I know how to find during the day, you’re my lucky victim.”

Spike took a deep unneeded breath at the wicked grin spreading across her face as she came towards him. Did she know how sexy she looked when she was playing the arrogant slayer bit?

“Ya know, that wouldn’t be too kind of you, considering I can’t fight back without giving myself a bleeding stroke.” He said sarcastically.

“Kind? No. Easy? Very.” With that, she raised the stake and drew it quickly down towards his chest, knowing he’d stop her. She wasn’t disappointed. Spike caught her wrist and held it a few inches from his breastbone.

“Now, now Slayer, you’ve had better reasons than this in the past to kill me.” He tsked.

“Fine, would you accept PMS?” She smirked.

With that Buffy pivoted and using Spike’s grip on her wrist against him, threw him across the crypt to smash into the opposite wall. He didn’t fall over, but stumbled slightly as he massaged his back.

“Slayer, this really is pointless. You know I can’t bloody well touch you.”

“All the more fun for me!” she proclaimed, as she came at him and aimed a well-centered kick into his gut. Spike went down onto one knee with a choked grunt. Her foot once again lashed out, this time slamming into the side of his face. He went down on his back, hard, and if he’d needed to breathe he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to right then. The back of his head connected with the hard concrete floor and he protested loudly.

“Ahh! Damn it all, Slayer, that really hurt!” he roared at Buffy, who was standing at his feet, crouched in a fighting stance.

“That’s the point, Spike.” She countered and moved to attack him again.

Spike struck out with his leg and tripped her, and the pain exploded inside his skull. He held his head and cried out as Buffy landed across his lap and her stake bounced from her hand to roll across the room. Before she could regain the upper hand, he rolled so that she was beneath him. Grabbing each wrist, he pinned them on either side of her head. Both taking deep breaths, he unnecessarily, he looked into her shocked eyes. In her gaze he saw something other than the usual anger and confusion as she tried to work her way out of his grasp. He couldn’t quite pin it though.

“Spike! Get OFF of me!” Buffy raged at him.

“First, you tell me why you’re here, pet. Then we discuss bargaining for your freedom.”

“I already told you, and there’ll be no bargaining. There’ll be me kicking your ass, and then staking it.”

“You already tried that, luv. Didn’t quite pan out, did it? And as for my ass...feel free to kick it any day you like, but I doubt staking it will have much of an effect except to royally piss me off!”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I hate you.” She breathed, her breath hissing out.

“Don’t say that, ducks. You know how it breaks my heart.”

“GET OFF OF ME!” She shouted, ineffectually.

“Sorry, Slayer. I don’t feel like getting pummeled again. Not that I’m afraid you’ll stake me, of course. Like I said, you’ve had plenty of opportunities in the past.”

“Today would be the day, I swear it.” She breathed, seething from irritation at being trapped under him.

“Really, luv? I don’t think so. You want to know why?” He asked in all seriousness.

“No, I’d rather not hear your twisted opinion of how I like your ass too much to watch it turn to dust, you pervert!”

“You’re the one who’s a pervert, seeing as I wasn’t even thinking that. But do you really like my ass?” He grinned widely, chuckling.

“NO!” she denied vehemently.

“Ok, whatever you say, luv.”

He chuckled some more. That stupid grin. She wanted to wipe it off his face. Or kiss it off…what?! Where had that come from?

“Spike, please get off me…” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Spike’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of her voice breaking. He noticed she was avoiding eye contact with him and the beginnings of a blush was creeping up her neck. Staring at her neck proved to be a bad idea when he saw her pulse jumping wildly. He nearly groaned.

“Begging now, luv? I think I might grow fond of hearing you ask me ‘please’.”

Buffy bucked hard under him, her face flaming and her eyes wild. Spike grunted at the strength of her struggles and tightened the pressure of his knees on her thighs, pinning her motionless.

“Bloody hell, Slayer! You’re going to give yourself a concussion!”

Buffy continued to struggle, bucking with all her might, trying to throw him off of her. His arms were like steel when she tried to push against them. Heat flooded into her body as he straddled her. She gasped as her lungs constricted, her face flaming red with embarrassment. She couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. She lay motionless, gazing up at him helplessly as her body responded to the very intimate position he held her in.

“That’s more like it. Jesus, Slayer, what in the hell was that about?”

“Spike.” she said slowly. “Let me up right now, or...”

“Or what?” he asked, his eyes going carnal with rage. He was sick of hearing this same old broken record when he knew it wasn’t the truth. She wouldn’t kill him, because she needed him. And it was about damned time she admitted it. “You’ll kill me? I don’t think so, luv. Know why?”

Buffy took a deep breath, feeling helpless against the foreign feelings invading her. This was Spike! How could she be feeling like this? “No. Please...” she whispered shakily.

Spike noticed that she was about to break and took advantage, loosening his hold on her thighs and leaning down so that his chest brushed hers. “It’s because you can’t.” He said softly.

“No!” she denied strongly.

“Yes.” He insisted gently. “Because if you did, then it would be over. And you wouldn’t have anyone to turn to anymore. To fight with, to curse at, to threaten to kill, to pretend to hate. It’d all be gone and you’d miss me. You need me, and you won’t admit it. Because I excite you…”

“No!” Buffy grated out, as she realized that he knew her secret. The one she wouldn’t even admit to herself. A tear trickled down her cheek. Spike dipped his head and gently kissed it away, tasting the salt.

“It’s true, Slayer. You forget I’m a vampire. I have a very acute sense of smell. And as soon as I got you under me, I could smell your...excitement.”

Buffy stiffened beneath him, her face flaming hotly as embarrassment set in. The moist heat pooled between her legs became even hotter as her lower abdomen throbbed at his words. She gazed up at Spike, her eyes confused and scared, but also pleading with him: to let her go, to kiss her, to make the ache stop. Anything but the helplessness she was feeling right then.
“Spike...” she murmured shakily.

He understood and growled as he took her mouth with his. The deep, guttural, animalistic sound snapped the remainder of Buffy’s control. She kissed him back, hard and passionately as his lips moved over hers. He ran his tongue along her sensitive bottom lip and she arched her back, making him groan in frustration. She opened her mouth and gasped when he sucked on her lower lip, before slipping his tongue into her mouth. They both moaned at the same time as their tongues battled for dominance. He gently traced the column of her neck with his lips, then slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt to find the smooth, soft, hot skin there. She shivered at his cool touch on her over-heated flesh.

Spike felt as though he were dreaming. He had to be. He’d imagined this, wished for it, dreamed of it for months and now it was happening. He ran his hand further up her shirt to find she was not wearing a bra. He gently stroked his thumb across a hard nipple and nearly combusted when Buffy moaned and arched into his hand.

Buffy was on fire. His cool touch made her writhe beneath him as he plucked one of her nipples. She bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from crying out from the heat building between her thighs. She’d dreamed of this. Private, sweat-drenched dreams that had her waking up panting, her body screaming for him. And now the dream was reality, and the reality of it was that he was driving her insane!

Spike used his other hand to wrench Buffy’s shirt over her head. He shuddered when she lifted her arms to help him, thrusting her breasts forward in a silent command. He obliged by dipping his head and licking slow circles around her areola. Buffy whimpered, clutching his head to her breast with her hands. When he finally flicked his tongue over her nipple, she gasped then whimpered for more. Spike, losing control after hearing the small sweet sounds she made, sucked her nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth over the swollen bud. Buffy arched, writhed and sobbed out her frustration, her hands grasping at the button of his jeans. Spike removed his mouth from her breast, soothing the tender nipple he had just feasted on with smooth strokes of his thumb.

“Now, now pet. We mustn’t get greedy.” He cooed at her.

Buffy response was to grab the front of his pants and yank hard, sending the button flying off and the zipper halfway down. Spike jumped from the strength of her need and captured both of her wrists in one hand with a growl, using his other to quickly peel Buffy’s tight leather pants from her legs and over her ankles.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve stared at your ass in these and nearly gone mad with wanting you?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

Buffy gazed up at him, her impatience blazing in her eyes. “Then have me.”

Spike, needing no other encouragement, grabbed the front of her delicate underwear and ripped them from her, causing her to gasp.

“Fair’s fair, pet. You’ve ruined my favorite jeans. You’re going to pay for that.” He chuckled with menace.

Buffy stared up at him, confused as to why he wasn’t removing his jeans. When his fingers flitted lightly over her stomach, and then dipped between her thighs, her eyes flew wide, then closed as fire coursed through her veins. Spike’s nimble fingers quickly found her clit and she moaned, tilting her head back and baring her throat in submission. Her act of trust fueled Spike’s need to make her his. He watched her face contort in pleasure as he pinched and rolled her swollen nub. At that moment he had to know. That she wasn’t imagining the poof…that she knew who was doing this to her.

“Say it, Buffy.” he demanded roughly. “Tell me why you never killed me. Why you never put a stake through my heart and spit on my ashes. Why you treated me like a man, and not just another demon. It’s the same reason I never killed you. Say it, Buffy. Tell me you want me. Me, and not that nancy boy, Angel. Say it!”

Buffy felt the tears coming again, even through the haze of pleasure. He was right. But if she admitted it, if she gave in, then there was no going back. She opened her lust-glazed sea-colored eyes and stared into his deep blue ones. She saw the passion there, the emotion, and gave up the fight.

“I want you Spike.” she breathed, trembling.

With a feral growl, he smiled in triumph and continued his torture with his fingers.

When she started to shake, he slid down her body, removing his hand. Buffy whimpered from the loss but let out a long, low moan as his tongue replaced his fingers. He flicked his tongue rapidly over her clit, making her gasp. As he sucked the bud into his mouth, she cried out. Suckling her while massaging her clit with his tongue, he felt her tense, her body readying itself for release. He abruptly removed his mouth, reaching up with his hand to slip a finger inside her wet warmth. Buffy whimpered, caught on the edge, and rolled her hips in an effort to slide his hand back to her clit.

“Oh no, luv. Not yet. You’re going to beg for it.” Spike told her with absolute certainty.

Buffy’s eyes opened and flashed at him, the slayer in her coming out. “I won’t-ooh.” she finished on a moan, as his index finger flickered over her clit in punishment for defying him.

Three times he took her to the edge, holding her there then backing off. She made small mewling sounds in the back of her throat, weeping from the tension racking her body. Finally as his tongue was circling her clit a fourth time, she threw her head back and screamed.

“Please! Spike...please!”

Spike lifted his head and grinned, purring low in his throat from hearing her beg him for release.

“I knew you’d see it my way, Slayer.” He said triumphantly.

Buffy, not one to take defeat easily, threw him off of her and onto his back. Kneeling next to a shocked Spike, she unzipped his jeans the rest of the way and ripped them down to his ankles. Climbing astride him, she looked down at his stunned face. Smiling with self-satisfaction, she ground her hips down and slowly impaled herself on him, sliding him inch by torturous inch into her warmth. Spike’s eyes rolled back and closed as a groan escaped his clenched teeth. Buffy’s blood heated impossibly more to see her effect on him and she moaned as she took him deeper into her tight sheath. When he lifted his hips and ground his pelvic bone against her clit she cried out and increased the pace. Spike gritted his teeth and went limp against the hard concrete floor.

“Now who’s going to beg?” Buffy smiled wickedly and took him deep, pulling him almost all the way out, then taking him in deep again.

Spike opened his eyes and grinned like a devil. “You still, pet.”

With that he slipped his hand between their joined bodies and rubbed her clit. Buffy threw her head back and cried out in ecstasy as her long-awaited orgasm slammed into her. Spike continued rubbing her nub roughly, drawing out her pleasure until it was excruciating.

“Oh god...Spike! Please...it’s too much!” she managed to gasp out.

He decided to finally relent and removed his hand, letting himself concentrate on his own release. Buffy continued pumping him in and out of her tight heat. He felt his body tense up, the pleasure unendurable as her moist fiery inner muscles squeezed him tightly. Finally, with a cry of pure elation, he came deep inside her, her muscles still clamping him, milking the last he had to give. As she fell limply onto his chest, he ran his fingers through her hair and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of it.

“Buffy...” he managed softly, squeezing her tightly, afraid it was all a dream.

Buffy sat up slightly, looking at his face, into his eyes. “That’s the first time you’ve said my real name today. Well, when you weren't...um...”

Spike grinned like a devil.

“Really? Sorry, luv. Must’ve slipped my mind between you trying to kill me and damn well nearly killing me.”

Buffy giggled. “Well, you’d better get used to using it.” she said matter of factly.

“Why’s that, kitten?” Spike asked, purposefully not using her name to get a rise out of her.

But she just grinned and leaned close to lick his earlobe, sending a shudder through him. “Because you’ll be screaming it from now on.”

THE END