Dodge, block, punch, kick, stake…it’s always the same with newborn vamps, Buffy thinks as she slams the stake home. She watches the vamp’s shocked expression crumble away as he dusts, sighing and turning to watch Spike finish off his vamp. She tilts her head to the side as he gracefully dodges to the left, avoiding the vamp’s fist. Finding a tombstone to sit on, Buffy settles down, swinging her feet and watching Spike fight.
‘He really is quite good.’ She thinks to herself, as Spike whirls around to kick the fledgling in the chest.
Buffy knew Spike could have finished off the vamp long ago, but he often liked to draw the fight out…to dance with his prey. He was a predator, like her. Only lately, the fight did little for her. She’d fight, pound the living daylights out of as many vamps as she could, drive stakes deep into their hearts and feel the rush of the kill…but in the end, only succeeded in getting herself worked up. The ever-present tension that had settled itself into her small frame didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon. It made her skin feel tight, made her feel caged and antsy, and made her bitchy and snarky to her friends. Wonder where it came from?
Spike finally realizes that Buffy had dusted her vamp long ago and was sitting on a nearby headstone. He quickly finishes off the fledgling, brushing stray dust off of himself as he looks over at the Slayer. She looked annoyed and bored, giving him the ‘Why do I bring you on patrol, again?’ look.
“Took you long enough. Maybe next time I should bring Xander instead.” Buffy says coldly.
Spike scoffs. “The Whelp?! Are you out of your bloody mind?”
Buffy shrugs, looking skyward in an innocent expression. “I dunno. I mean, he is pretty handy with a stake. I remember this one time, he-“
Buffy is cut off by a low warning growl from Spike. She laughs, rolling her eyes.
“Poor Spikey. Having his evilness threatened by a human, and Xander no less!”
Spike narrows his eyes, gritting his teeth to keep from strangling the tiny blonde in front of him.
“Yeah, right! If I didn’t have this damn chip in my head, I’d drain the whelp and his demon bird before they could blink! Speaking of the chip…where’s WhiteBread tonight? Have some soldier shindig, G-14 classified and all that?”
Buffy narrows her eyes, breath puffing out in an angry sigh at having the tables turned on her so quickly. She had to start remembering that teasing Spike almost always equaled getting just as good as she gave.
“*RILEY* is out on an Initiative mission tonight, and the rest of the Scoobies have plans. Why else would I put up with you for a whole evening?” she bites back at him.
“Oh, I dunno, luv…I think you might kinda like me.” Spike says with a trademark smirk, raising his scarred eyebrow.
Buffy makes a disgusted face. “Ugh, Spike! In your dreams!”
“Mmm…the wettest ones, pet.” Spike says, his voice dipping sensuously low.
“Eww! Damn it, Spike! Can’t you just NOT be a pervert for one night?” Buffy shouts.
“Oh dear, I’ve gone and offended the Slayer’s precious sense of virtue! Of course, the fact that she shags every frat boy who fancies her doesn’t account for anything.” He sneers.
Buffy’s eyes blaze pure venom. “You’re really desperate for a good staking aren’t you?”
Spike smiles lazily, sauntering a few steps towards her. “Could say the same about you. Feelin’ a bit peckish lately, pet? Captain Commando not givin’ it ya good?”
Buffy growls, or comes as close to it as a human can, withdrawing a stake from her jacket.
“I’d watch your mouth if I were you, Spike. You may be impotent, but I’ll-“
Buffy once again gets cut off as Spike growls loudly, closing the distance between them in a few strides. He stops just in front of her, leaning down and bracing his arms on either side of her on the headstone. Buffy gasps slightly as he leans towards her, jumping slightly and nearly falling off of her perch, if it hadn’t been for Spike wrapping an arm around her waist. His chest is firmly pressed against her stake, his face inches from her own. Her mind races, trying to figure out what he’s up to, when she looks up at his face, seeing pure undiluted fury blazing back at her through the sapphire blue orbs. She gasps slightly. She’d seen Spike angry before, but this…this was something different entirely. He was furious.
“Shall I show you just how impotent I am, then luv?” he purrs, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer to him, her stake pressing sharply into his chest, just breaking the skin. He gasps in pain, but doesn’t relinquish his hold on her.
Buffy sits motionless, her eyes huge and uncomprehending. Spike was inches away from being staked and he didn’t care?! What was going on? Her pulse beats frantically against her throat, her breathing hitching slightly as other thoughts surface in her addled brain. She first becomes aware of Spike’s fingers biting into her hip…then her calves brushing against the backs of his, her thighs splayed on either side of his hips…his arm around her back, arching her so that her stomach pressed against his…OH DEAR GOD!
Buffy hastily shoves Spike away, sending him toppling backwards onto the grass. He looks up at her as she jumps off of the tombstone to her feet, stake poised and ready. ‘Oh fuck…’ he thinks.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing? The only thing you’ll be proving tonight, Spike, is how much of an ass you are! Which, by the way, you’ve just done…so I’ll be going now.” Buffy rants, furious with Spike for his trespass and herself for her traitorous reaction. She swiftly turns on her heel, stalking away in a huff.
Spike lays flat on his back in the grass, still stunned from the Slayer’s outburst. She usually didn’t give up so easily. Not to mention…he was un-dusty. Just as he’s about to pick himself up off of the ground, the Slayer’s foot comes into contact with his chest, pinning him back down. He looks up at her in surprise, his eyes meeting her hot hazel ones.
“And another thing! Riley pleases me just fine, thank you very much! Finer than fine, in fact! The finest! And…I’m only tense because of…stuff, and other…stuff…and it has nothing to do with my sex life!” she rushes hastily, spitting out her frustration at the blonde vampire beneath her.
Spike slowly reaches up and closes his hand around her ankle. Buffy recoils, jumping at his touch, drawing her stake back. Spike raises his free hand in a gesture of surrender, gently removing her foot from his chest. She relaxes, lowering the stake, taking a deep breath as he rises slowly to stand before her. He sighs and shakes his head, glaring at her as he draws a cigarette from the inside of his duster. Lighting up, he rakes her from head to toe in an accessing gaze, taking a deep drag off of his fag, then exhaling slowly. Then he laughs. His deep, mocking chuckle makes the Slayer even more angry.
“What’s so funny?” she spits.
Spike, still chuckling, ducks his head and looks up at her through hooded lids. “You actually believe any of that rot you just threw out at me?”
Buffy inhales sharply, her eyes widening as she draws back and punches him in the nose. Spike rolls with the punch, his head snapping to the side. When he faces the Slayer again, his grin is still firmly in place.
“I don’t give a damn what you think, Spike. You’re just jealous! You can’t stand the thought that Riley pleases me. That a normal, human boy can make the Slayer come. I bet you couldn’t even come close! Vampire stamina be damned!” she shouts.
Spike tosses his cigarette away hastily and grabs Buffy by her upper arms, pulling her flush against his taller frame. She gasps, her body tensing in preparation to attack him, but Spike anticipates her, knocking the stake from her grasp, careful not to hurt her in the process lest the chip activate.
“Care to make a wager on that bet?” he says, his eyes deadly serious.
Buffy squirms in his grasp, but Spike holds fast, thankful for this loophole in the chip. ‘Holding doesn’t equal migraine. Good to know…’ he thinks.
“Is that chip affecting your rational thought processes, Bleach Boy? LET GO OF ME!” she shouts.
Spike lets her go. “Tsk, tsk, pet. You’ve made your bed, and now you have to come lie with me in it.”
Buffy looks exasperated. “What are you babbling about, Chippy?”
Spike glares at her for the nickname, but continues.
“You challenged me. And on a very personal level, I might add. My manly pride is bruised.” He smirks.
Buffy rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry. I’ll let you borrow my Ben-Gay.”
She starts to walk away, but Spike catches her in a few quick steps, his legs being longer than hers. He stops in front of her, causing Buffy to draw up short.
“Wha-“
“I’ll let you stake me.” He rushes, cutting her off.
Buffy gazes up at him as though he’s grown a second head.
“What?” she asks, stunned.
“You heard me, pet.” Spike nods. “I’ll let you stake me. You don’t get off…I’m dust.”
Buffy’s eyes fly wide, looking everywhere but at the vampire in front of her. A light brush spreads over neck and cheeks as she sputters.
“What? NO! No, no! I’m SO not going to..to…”
“To what?” Spike interjects. “Be proven wrong?”
Buffy looks up at him, her mouth hanging open in shock.
“NO! You couldn’t! I mean…I wouldn’t!” she stutters.
“Which is it, luv? I couldn’t, or you won’t let me?” he asks, practically purring.
Buffy shrivels under his intense gaze. She starts to panic slightly as she backs away from him, his closeness affecting her more than she’d like to admit.
“Both!” she shouts, her voice breaking shrilly.
“Mmmm hmmm.” Spike rumbles, his voice low and seductive. He steps closer, backing Buffy up against the gravestone she’d been sitting on previously. “Afraid to let me try, Buffy?”
Buffy tries to dodge left, escape his nearness, but Spike is swifter and catches her against him. Buffy whimpers softly, panic flooding into her as her body goes slack against his. She closes her eyes and shivers, his cold fingers causing delicious sensations as they pressed into her spine. She’d never admit it, but she’d dreamt of this. Private, sweaty dreams that had her waking up unfulfilled and aching. Riley was a nice boy, and she loved him as much as she was able to at this point. But lately it had been the same thing. They’d kiss a few times, he’d climb on top of her, pound her into the mattress for a few minutes, and then roll over and go to sleep. Spike was right, Riley was definitely a cardboard cut-out, steak and potatoes kind of guy. But Spike…she’d lay money down that he was just the opposite. She’d daydreamed in class the past month or so, coming up with all the different positions and ways that they could…NO! Not going there! Have to get away from the sexy evil undead!
Spike grins down at her as Buffy opens her eyes. He can smell her arousal and dips his head down so his lips are an inch from hers.
“What do you say, Slayer? You gonna back down? Seems odd, since you’re so confident that I’ll lose, and all.”
Buffy glares up at him. “If I win, I get to stake you?”
Spike nods.
“And if I lose?” she asks defiantly, as if it’d never happen.
“You ditch the Soldier Boy.” Spike demands.
“No! No way! I won’t break up with Riley! Buffy shrieks.
“But I thought you wouldn’t lose, pet?” Spike raises one eyebrow in challenge.
“I wouldn’t! But I’d still have to…let you…” she stammers.
“But if you stake me afterwards, no one will ever know but you.” He reminds her.
Buffy considers this. She could finally get Spike out of her system AND be rid of him forever? But there was only one problem…what if she lost. There was a very good possibility that Spike could make her come. Especially with how aroused she was right now just thinking about it. Buffy shifts uncomfortably, feeling the slick wetness between her legs. She looks back up at Spike, considering. He senses that she’s about to give in and adds fuel to the fire.
“Don’t worry about it, pet. If you’re afraid you’ll lose, then I understand.” He smirks, tongue in cheek.
Buffy’s eyes fly wide with determination. Spike knew her all too well. She couldn’t resist a challenge; especially one where, if she wins, she gets to be rid of a long-standing thorn in her side. The fact that she could have done so at any point didn’t seem relevant at the moment.
“Fine! I accept your bet. Prepare to lose!” Buffy says with a grin of satisfaction.
She holds out her right hand and Spike does the same, shaking on the deal. Both determined to win. After a moment, an awkward silence falls heavily upon the vampire and slayer’s shoulders. Buffy looks up at Spike uncomfortably, tucking her hands into her back pockets like a nervous little girl.
“So…um…how do we…start?” she asks, blushing fiercely.
Spike grins and holds out his hand. Buffy takes it slowly, hesitating.
“My place.” He commands simply.
Buffy follows as Spike practically drags her through the graveyard towards his crypt. She digs her heels in as much as possible, only serving to have him tug on her arm impatiently. She was sulking like a scolded child and she knew it. But she was also panicking. ‘Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.’ is a mantra in her head as fear settles in the pit of her stomach. What was she doing?! Had she really gotten herself into this?
Buffy’s terrified musings caused her to slam into Spike’s back as he stopped short in front of his crypt. She jumps back as if scalded, giving him her best glare before glancing at the crypt door. ‘Home sweet home.’ she thinks inappropriately.
“Here we are, Slayer. Ladies first.” Spike smirks with a sweep of his arm.
Buffy’s eyes shoot back to the blonde vampire, wide as silver dollars. ‘An excuse…make up and excuse!’ she thinks frantically. She glances back at the door, then at Spike.
“Well…er, I…you…uh, here…” she sputters, desperate to find a way to back out of this with her pride still intact.
“Not sure I followed you around that bend, luv.” Spike deadpans, raising an eyebrow mockingly.
Buffy’s eyes widen even further, her frenzied brain trying to drag up something, ANYTHING, to get her out of this.
“I-“
She looks at the vampire in front of her and flails an arm out, indicating the crypt.
“I…think I heard something.”
Spike cocks his head to the side, giving her a contemplative look. Buffy rushes on, phrases tumbling out of her mouth like word salad.
“HARMONY! I- I heard Harmony. She must be…in…there. Cause’, you know…she, um…lives there. With you. And you two are, uh-”
“Over. And you’re stalling.” He observes calmly, if not impatiently.
“I SO am not- ” Buffy begins, then catches his look of disbelief, his cool blue eyes mocking her, challenging her. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
With that, Buffy hauls the crypt door open with a decisive flick of her wrist and tosses her hair defiantly, leaving Spike to wonder at the many different sides to this girl. He follows her inside, taking a moment to wince at the lack of comforts of his crypt. Then, realizing this is his mortal enemy and he shouldn’t care whether or not she’s comfortable, he shakes it off. But then again, he shouldn’t be fantasizing about making his mortal enemy scream his name either. At least not in pleasure…
The moment Buffy stops in the center of the crypt, panic overwhelms her once more. Fidgeting nervously, she wrings her hands in front of her, shuffling her feet with her back to her mortal enemy. The same old mantra picks up where it left off in her head. ‘Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.’
‘Great!’ Spike thinks. ‘Now she’s shy again. Damn Slayer and her bloody mood swings.’
Walking over to her, he plants his hands on Buffy’s waist and hauls her up to sit on top of the sarcophagus, her legs trapped between his thighs. Buffy gasps loudly, hauling a stake out of the space between the small of her back and the waist of her jeans, drawing it up sharply. Spike reaches up to grab her wrist, holding it in midair.
“Ah, ah, ah.” he scolds her.
Buffy glares and shoves him away from her.
“Don’t touch me!” she shouts angrily.
Spike raises and eyebrow and chuckles menacingly, taking a step closer.
“Dunno how that’d work in light of our little bet, pet. But I’m willing to lay odds that it won’t be in my favor.” He grins.
Buffy continues to glare at him, still clutching the stake tightly.
“I want out. This is ridiculous. I don’t know why I even accepted this bet to begin with.” She spits at him, moving to hop off of the sarcophagus.
Spike is on her in a second, pinning the hand holding the stake at her side with one hand and grasping her chin with the other. Holding her struggling body securely, he forces her to meet his gaze.
“Now, now, Slayer. Never thought I’d live to see the day when you’d be too afraid to finish something you started.” He almost singsongs this, taunting her.
Buffy rises to the bait.
“I am NOT afraid of you, Spike.” She says, her voice low and deadly.
“No, you’re not. Just the things I can do to you--” he purrs.
Buffy’s eyes go wide as he moves in closer, his chest brushing hers and his lips almost grazing her ear. He turns her wrist, forcing her to drop the stake.
“Things I can make you do…make you feel… ” he whispers huskily.
Pulling back slightly, Spike slides his hand from Buffy’s chin to her throat. His fingers drift lazily down over the smooth skin, tracing her collarbone. She makes a little gasp and he raises his eyes to meet hers.
“Stop that.” Buffy whispers.
“Stop me yourself.” He counters.
Buffy shivers as his cool fingertips dance down her side, sliding underneath her top to the warm flesh underneath. He flattens his palm over her abdomen, dipping his index finger into her navel. She arches into Spike’s touch, pressing herself to him. Spike grins at this white flag and dips his head, bringing his mouth down on hers. Buffy makes a startled sound in the back of her throat, reaching out to latch onto his shoulders to brace herself. After all, the floor HAD moved hadn’t it? It had to of, because suddenly she wasn’t so steady, and she felt dizzy.
Spike sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, savoring the gloss she’d applied. What was that flavor? Honey? Sugar? Oh dear God…it was vanilla. Sweet, succulent, heady vanilla. Nipping her full lower lip, he pulls Buffy roughly to him, sealing every inch of her to his frame. Buffy moans into his mouth, giving him access to the inner recesses within. He takes advantage, dipping his tongue into her mouth. Buffy kisses him back tentatively, slipping her tongue out to dance with his. The meeting of hot and cold causes both partners to gasp and break apart, panting.
“Lay back, luv.” Spike commands her.
Buffy’s eyes fly up to his, panic rising again. She shakes her head vehemently, beginning to struggle against him. Spike holds fast, grasping her upper arms and tugging her forward so that her thigh splayed apart and her hips were cradled against his. Buffy gives a small “eep!” and goes perfectly still.
“N-no. I told you. I want out. Riley…” she stammers.
“Forget Riley for one night. You’ll be telling him to hit the road soon enough, anyway.” He taunts.
Buffy twists an arm out of his grasp and smacks her hand hard across one elegant cheekbone. Spike’s head snaps back with the blow, but his expression remains passive. When he looks back up at her though, his eyes are anything but passive. Buffy feels the passion behind that gaze down to her very toes and feels the bile rising up in her throat. ‘Gotta get out now!’ she thinks frantically. Spike reads her panicked gaze and anticipates her, stopping her with his words before she even makes a move.
“Don’t even think about it, Slayer. Like I told you earlier, you made your bed. This is it.” He says, indicating the sarcophagus. “Now. Bloody. Lay. Down. On. It.”
Buffy holds fast, not budging an inch, giving him her patented Slayer Stare, crossing her arms over her chest. Spike smirks, doing the same.
“What’s the matter, pet? Afraid I’ll make you scream?” he purrs.
Buffy gasps and balls up a fist, taking a swing at him. Spike knows her too well though, and blocks her fist inches from his nose. He uses his height advantage as leverage and presses her down onto the cold stone surface of the tomb, covering her body with his as he pins her wrists over her head. Buffy squirms underneath him, making small panicked noises. She suddenly bucks wildly, giving Spike the perfect opportunity to slide between her legs. Buffy gasps, going deadly still as she feels a familiar weight pressing into her belly. Spike lowers his head slowly until his lips hover just above hers. He grins, raking her face with lustful eyes.
“Oh yes, luv. I do believe you’ll beg.”
Buffy’s sound of protest was muffled by Spike’s lips as they crashed down to claim hers in a deep, rough kiss. She struggles for a few moments before going limp beneath him, her hands linking behind his neck, dragging him in closer, deeper. They fuse their mouths together, kissing passionately as they arch and grind into one another. Spike’s hands begin a lazy exploration of Buffy’s body, gliding down her sides, hips, the outsides of her thighs. She sighs against his mouth, fighting the urge to run her hands up under his shirt. Buffy’s mind races.
‘It’s just kissing. Just kissing. It doesn’t mean anything. Kisses are like…pretzels! They’re all alike. Except for the broken ones, and the bendy ones, and the ones that were melted together, just like her and Spike’s lips were- NO! Bad thought!’ She thinks.
Spike strokes his hands back up Buffy’s body, slipping them underneath the hem of her shirt and drawing it up and over her head, revealing that she wore no bra. Buffy rears back, tearing her lips from his.
“NO! No undressing! That wasn’t part of the bet!” she screams.
Spike gives her one of his patented ‘You’re joking, right?’ looks.
“Luv, how do you expect me to get you off if I can’t even get you aroused? Not much I can do with all these barriers.” He says, indicating her clothes as though they were offensive objects.
“I’m aroused!” Buffy yelps, realizing too late her diversionary tactic wasn’t the best one in the world.
Spike smirks and looks down at her bare chest, sliding one finger down her right breast and over the nipple. Buffy gasps and arches up slightly off of the sarcophagus, her pupils dilating.
“Really? And here I’ve barely touched you. You sure you’re not keeping something from me, Slayer?” he says in a low, husky tone.
Buffy moves to turn away from his touch, only to gasp as Spike dips his head to her breast, licking slow circles around the areola. His cold tongue spirals up torturously slowly, making her wait in breathless anticipation for what she really wanted. When he finally reaches his zenith, he sucks her nipple into his mouth, rolling it back and forth between his teeth. Buffy makes a small mewling sound, closing her eyes and arching into his mouth. He grins against her skin, moving to bestow the same attention on the other breast as Buffy writhes beneath him clawing her hands through his hair. Sliding his palm down her stomach, Spike unfastens her jeans, tugging the zipper down slowly as he nips sharply into her nipple, causing Buffy to buck strongly, her hips leaving the stone slab. He takes the opportunity to slide her jeans down her legs. Pulling away from the temptation of her soft skin to gaze down at her body, he’s shocked to find that she’s wearing no underwear. Buffy blushes a deep shade of crimson, turning away from the sight of a very amused Spike.
“All the, uh- high kicks. If I wear…you know, it…bunches.” She mumbles, embarrassed beyond measure.
Spike nods, his grin spreading as he looks over her nude body with a look of feral hunger. “Don’t mind a bit, Slayer.” He growls, lowering his mouth to her throat.
Buffy closes her eyes once more, her hands moving of their own violation up under his shirt to roam the muscled expanse of his back. As he kisses and licks the line of her throat, his hand drifts down between her thighs. A familiar mantra picks up once more in Buffy’s mind. ‘Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.’
At the first tentative sweep of Spike’s index finger along her slick cleft, Buffy’s hips arch sharply off of the sarcophagus. Spike chuckles, rearing back to look down at her face, his sapphire blue eyes meeting her desire- clouded hazel ones.
“Oooh, naughty Slayer. So wet.” he taunts, his voice low and gravelly.
Buffy closes her eyes, turning her head away from him and offering her throat once more. Spike growls, knowing she was unaware of her gift or what it meant, but bent to nip gently at her jugular anyway. He begins to make slow, light sweeps of his index finger into her slippery folds, feeling her body start to tremble beneath him. ‘Goodbye, Captain Cardboard.’ passes through his mind as he hears Buffy’s breathing hitch and catch in her throat.
‘Think of something else, ANYTHING else!’ Buffy commands herself, as Spike’s fingers begin to drive her crazy. ‘Crosses…holy water…slimy demons…sta-aaa-aah! Oh God! Just like that!’
Buffy clenches her teeth and digs her nails into the cold stone beneath her as Spike dips two fingers into her tight heat, making her muscles clench around him. She had to stay focused. Don’t come, and win a dusty vampire in a nice Spike-shaped pile! ‘Spike shape….Mmmm, NO! Bad Buffy! Focus! No thinking of sexy undead demons with incredibly well defined arms and MY GOD are those his abs or is he toting a washboard under his shirt?!’ she thinks as she runs her hands up over his stomach and chest.
Spike grins as Buffy’s indecision plays out before him. One minute she’s nearly biting a hole in her cheek and wearing her nails down on the slab of rock underneath her, the next she’s caressing his chest and gasping beneath him. Giving her neck one last nip, he moves slowly down her body, kissing and licking along the way until dipping his head between her thighs.
Buffy bites her lip to suppress a whimper as Spike moves away from her roaming hands. Then she remembers that her hands shouldn’t be roaming in the first place and curls her fingers into her palms to form small fists at her sides. As Spike kisses and caresses his way down her body, she clenches her fists, nails biting painfully into her palms. When she feels cool breath gliding over her thighs, she gasps, knowing what’s to come. At the first long, languid stroke of his cold tongue over her fiery clit, Buffy clenches her fists so hard blood trickles out from between her fingers. Determined not to make a sound, she takes up her unsavory line of thought again to distract her from the unimaginable pleasure of Spike’s tongue. “Xander naked-- Giles in a tutu-- Willow using magic-- Angel losing his soul--’
The list continued as Spike’s tongue pressed even more firmly over her clit, licking roughly. ‘Mom dying-- kitten poker-- Dawn skipping schoo- oooooh! Oh, yes!’
Spike fastens his lips over Buffy’s sensitized clit, sucking hard, pulling the hard, distended flesh into his mouth. Buffy moans harshly, and he revels in the first real sound he’d gotten out of her so far. Determined to make her forget her inhibitions and wail with pleasure, he suckles her even more fiercely. Buffy keens, panting and ending each small breath with a tiny whimper. Soon she’s clamping her thighs around his neck and arching into his mouth. When he feels her muscles begin to quiver beneath his mouth, he thrusts his fingers back into her, curling them to stroke her front wall in a lazy caress. Buffy arches completely off of the tomb, her head flying back as a harsh scream is torn from her throat. Spike nearly giggles giddily as he feels her orgasm flutter all around him, lapping her juices up greedily.
Buffy pants heavily, shaking all over from the force of her orgasm. ‘Wow.’ She thinks dazedly as she settles back down onto the blissfully cold stone beneath her. Suddenly Spike’s face is hovering above her own, his mouth slick with her come and she reaches up and cups the back of his neck, pulling him down into a deep, passionate kiss. Tasting herself she, smiles and stretches languidly underneath him, pulling away from him to smile up into his shocked face. She frowns as his eyes cloud and he pulls away from her, sitting up. She grabs his hand and tries to tug him back down, but he resists.
“Sla- Buffy. I just want you to know that…you don’t have to- I mean, you don’t have to ditch Soldier Boy. If he means a lot to you then, you should be with bloody Riley.” He says, avoiding her eyes.
Buffy sits up slowly, taking his chin in her hand and turning him to face her. She smiles and once again Spike is confused…again. Buffy flips him over expertly so that he is pinned beneath her, kicking her jeans off from around her ankles to allow her to spread her legs further and provide her more room for leverage. Spike’s eyes darken as a frown settles over his features.
“I see. So it’s the staking then, is it? Don’t play by the rules, do you pet?” he growls.
Buffy shrugs nonchalantly, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
“No, I guess I don’t. And Spike?”
Spike glares at her.
“What? Look, just bloody get on with it, would you? At least give me a PROPER staking, don’t drag it out.”
Buffy grins, reaching down for his belt buckle, working the leather with nimble fingers. She nearly bursts out laughing at the sight of his confused face.
“Actually Spike, I was thinking more along the lines of you staking ME. And I’d just love it if you dragged it out as long as possible. As a matter of fact…I double dare you.”