One Good Lay: Mirror, Mirror by Ripe wicked Plum

A small smile curled Spike's lips as he surveyed his handiwork, deep blue eyes glinting in his pale, angular face. He slowly walked around the bed, fingers idly trailing over satin coverings, slipping along his fingertips like black water. Expensive black, smooth water. However, they would never last the night, mores the pity, but definitely worth the sacrifice.

Black, velvet draperies were draped over the bed, a thick, black rope holding them in place. One slight tug, they would fall into place, almost creating his own, little secret world, offering privacy and a sense of absolute solitude that was vastly appealing. Of course, the ropes could also be easily utilized in other endeavors, if he so wished. His feather pillows had been fluffed, plumped and shaped to perfection.

The scent of jasmine drifted on the air, tinged with a nearly scentless but potent herb specially mixed for him by Anya and made into candle form so obligingly by Tara. Several of the special candles were lit already, throwing his shadow against the wall, where it wavered and flickered ever so slightly. A faint, golden glow illuminated the usual gloom of his crypt. Above the bed, a shelf he had commissioned Xander to make was set up, a few more candles sitting on top of it, but high enough so that it didn't run the risk of being knocked or damaged in any way. Which was a risk that was always high.

A bottle of expensive wine that was older then him, specially ordered from his wine cellars that he still owned back home in England, was breathing in a bucket of ice near the bed. Two thinly cut crystal wine flutes with thin, graceful necks, sat on the bedside table, waiting to be used.

Spike smiled again before picking a bowl off the floor, and started to slowly drip rose petals onto the bed, the silky petals slipping through his fingers, and when the bed was covered with a fine drizzle of petals, he started to drop the others on the floor, creating a path from the ladder to the bed, so that whoever came down it would be able to walk on petals the entire time. After he finished that, he hid the bowl beneath his bed.

He straightened, running a critical eye over the entire room, absently smoothing down the black labels of his robe, shivering a bit in pleasure as the silk, deeply crimson material rubbed against his skin. It had been a gift from the Bit the Christmas before, and had immediately earned him the moniker of 'Spike Hefner,' a running joke that Harris had kept up for most of the day till Spike let slip a few tasty tidbits concerning things Anya had told him. That had shut him up right quick, and the robe had gone into one of his trunks. Till tonight. Spike found it oddly appropriate for the circumstances.

Everything was positively perfect, just the way he wanted it. There wasn't one cobweb or one speck of dust visible, and thanks to a little positive cleansing spell from Tara, it was free of any dampness or mustiness that had been cursing him since he had moved in there.

Spike did a quick inventory, looking over the items sitting on his other bedside table, taking stock. Soft, instrumental music was playing on his small CD player, and he glanced upwards, a slow smile crossing over his face as he eyed another additive to his bed.

Willow's breath caught in her throat as she watched Buffy descend down the stairs, a radiant, but somewhat nervous smile. Her golden blond hair tumbled down her almost bare shoulders in soft, wavy curls, framing her beautiful face. A red, silk dress clung to her body in all the right places, the hem stopping mid-thigh, the straps dental floss thin, and the front dipped low in the front, showing off enough cleavage to leave any man and/or woman stop dead in their tracks. She was wearing a pair of small, dainty high heels that made her several inches dollar, and gave her backside a little extra sway.

"So?" Buffy's voice wavered a bit, "How do I look?" She did a small little spin, and Willow raised an eyebrow when she saw the back of her dress was nearly nonexistent, it dipped so low, just barely above her buttocks. "Well?"

Willow smiled at her, "You look beautiful," The witch assured her, and then shook her head, "I'm just surprised Spike would buy something like that for you, and actually let you wear it out in public."

"He's not," Dawn bounced in from the other room, and then held up a leather duster that was obviously Spike's from the many battle scars that covered the somewhat worn leather. "She's supposed to wear this over top of it."

Buffy rolled her eyes, coming down the rest of the stairs, stopping to stoop a little and smell the two dozen long stem roses sitting on the table, in a beautiful crystal vase. Half of them were a pure white, and the other half purple, but a purple so deep, they were almost black. A white card was nestled among them, simply inscribed with the instruction, 'My place, eight-o-clock,' in sloped, elegant handwriting that was uniquely Victorian. Not exactly big on the romantics, but she knew once she got there, there would be plenty of the romance, as well as other things.

Dawn rolled her eyes, but before the usual argument of Dawn's age and her maturity level could start, Buffy bent down and kissed her sister's cheek, "All right, bed by eleven, and I'll try to be home before you leave for school..."

"Oh, no, you won't," Willow said firmly, "Go. Have fun, don't worry about Dawn. I'll get her off to school and make she eats breakfast and all that." Buffy looked hesitant, and Willow reached out, touching her shoulder, "Don't worry. You need this. You deserve Buffy fun time. Come home whenever," Willow suddenly grinned, "However, if you're not home in a couple of days, we're sending out a search and rescue party."

Buffy glanced at Dawn who was nodding eagerly, obviously excited for her big sister and her bestest friend in the world. "Go, have fun. Screw Spike till his brains leak out of his--"

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister's overly innocent look on her face, "We'll talk later. I'm already running late. Knowing Spike, he's probably already given up on me and is probably going to be drinking his cheap bourbon and watching television."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Willow replied as Dawn handed Buffy Spike's duster, and the Slayer slipped into it, and Dawn and Willow watched in amusement as she inhaled deeply of the scent clinging to the leather.

She settled it on her shoulders, liking the feel of the heavy coat on her body, and the way the hem softly brushed against her ankles. "If he thinks he's getting this jacket back, he is sooo wrong," She said before heading out the door and Dawn watched her sister practically bounce down the front walk, and the Key grinned widely, softly saying, "Have fun."

"Spike?" Buffy pushed open the door to Spike's crypt, peeking her head inside, half-expecting to see her lover lounging in his favorite chair, smoking, drinking and watching television. The faint glow of candles sent shadows dancing across the floors and walls, and she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She took a few steps forward, the usual glow of candles sending shadows dancing across the walls and floors. "Spike?"

"Almost thought you weren't comin'," Buffy jumped when cool hands dropped down on her shoulders gently, his voice purring in her ear. She whirled, simply by instinct, fist shooting out to hit him in the face, but he simply caught her hand, and then gently unclasped her fingers and planted a kiss against her palm as he smiled. "Now, now, pet...thought we were going to do this all nice an' the like..."

His lips curled up into one of his trademark, deliciously sexy smirks, skin pulling taut over his cheekbones and accentuating them. "Maybe," Spike kissed one of her knuckles, "We," he kissed another, "Should," another, "Teach you some new habits, m'pet."

"Maybe," Buffy breathed softly, her eyes fixated to his dark, burning ones, feeling as if the piercing orbs were staring straight into her soul. He suddenly let go of her hand, and straightened, breaking their eye contact, and the spell was broken, but it still left her knees a little weak.

Spike slowly walked around her, and then slipped the duster from her shoulders, and let it slide to the ground, eyes tracking it's descent, his lips parting as a muttered curse escaped as he stared at the bare expanse of her back. He laid a hand against the base of her spine, and then slowly slid it around her body to rest against her abdomen, feeling and hearing her pulse start to race. He brushed his lips against her ear before whispering silkily, "Dress looks smashing on you, Buffy," He felt her shudder and press her back to his chest when he used her true name. His other hand came up to run through her hair, fingertips brushing against her scalp as he let out a trilling purr, "You are so very beautiful...if I had breath, you would steal it away from me."

Buffy turned in his arms, a small, almost timid smile on her lips as she looked up at him from below lowered lashes, "You don't look all that bad yourself," She told him quietly, fingering the label of his smoking jacket, and then smiled coyly as she slipped on of her hands inside it. Spike closed his eyes as her warm hand explored his bared chest beneath the fabric, her fingers gently scraping against one of his flat, dusky nipples. She leaned forward, her heels offering her an few added inches so that she could easily reach his face, and she playfully started to kiss along his jaw till she reached his ear, "Hmmm...yummy."

Spike's eyes shot open at her husky whisper, and she giggled when she heard a low, rumbling growl tumble from his lips in response. He suddenly yanked her hard against him and smashed his lips against hers, hungrily delving into her mouth, and her arms came up to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling herself even closer to him. Abruptly, Spike broke the heated kiss and let go of her to take a step back, trying to regain control of himself. Buffy was panting lightly, puzzled, half-dazed hazel eyes shining in her face as she watched him close his eyes and take several deep breaths. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Spike opened his eyes again, and smiled at her, a real, genuine smile that she didn't see enough of, "Just want to do this right, luv." He reached out and cupped her chin, planting a light, chaste kiss on her lips, "Tonight's all about you, Buffy. And as much as I want to throw you on the ground so we can shag like two rapid wolverines..."

Buffy's pupils dilated a bit at the imagery, "I like wolverines," She replied, two high spots of color appearing in her cheeks, "Wolverines sound good right about now..."

Spike chuckled, "I promise, pet," He took her hand and started to lead her towards the hole in the floor, "Later, we'll do the wolverine bit...but right now...nice an' slow...make it last," He gently gave her a push towards the ladder, "I'll be done in a moment. Just sit on the bed and don' move an inch," He instructed firmly.

Buffy pouted, but obeyed him with a sigh and roll of her eyes, and Spike smiled as he listened to her mutter about 'insufferably cocky vampires and how she always seemed to get stuck loving them.'

Buffy went down into Spike's bedroom, and as soon as the scent of the jasmine candles hit her nose, she felt her knees weaken a bit, and it felt as if her insides had melted into warm, gooey mush. Aphrodisiac candles...she thought, what is he trying to do? Kill me?

She made it to the bottom with smile, looking around the room till her eyes fell on the much-altered bed. She went towards it, walking on rose petals the entire way, and ran her fingers along the satin coverings and fingered the heavy, black velvet draperies, much as Spike had done when he had been waiting for her. Wow...he's really gone the whole nine yards, she observed before remembering Spike's instructions.

She sat down on the edge of the bed covered in red rose petals, facing the ladder. She crossed her legs at the ankles and rested her hands, folded, demurely in her lap, trying to appear innocent, as if she hadn't come there for a night of screwing her boyfriend silly.

After several moments, she started to grow impatient, and considered going to look for Spike, but then he started to come down the ladder. Spike turned to face her, and she watched as his lips parted slightly as he stared at her, his beautiful eyes widening a bit. He swallowed a few times, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down before he was able to move once more, trying to mentally talk down his arousal vainly. Just when he seemed about ready to succeed, one glance at his Slayer just set him off again. Not that he was completely complaining, but the girl was hell on libido control, especially in that dress, and especially in the way it rode up when she crossed her legs, one over the other, exposing her golden tanned thighs even more. He was never going to make it.

Spike chuckled softly, "Just lockin' everything up. Didn't want to be interrupted," He said as he started stalking towards her slowly, his steps sure and measured, eyes glinting darkly in his face, and Buffy felt a shiver run down her spine at the predator stalking her. The flickering candles just seemed to accentuate the angles of his face, making them appear sharper and deeper. Buffy wet her lips as she watched him 'hunt' her, the Slayer side of her both repulsed and drawn to the demon at the same time. He was what she was born to kill, but he was also her perfect match. It had taken her nearly a year to come to terms with that fact and to finally allow him to break down the ten-foot thick wall that had been built around her heart after her father, Angel, Riley and Giles had all broken it.

He fluidly sank to his knees in front of her and lightly rested his hands on her knees, leaning forward to capture her lips with his, slowly and deeply exploring her mouth. Her hands fell onto his shoulders as she attempted to draw him closer, but he resisted her attempts to do so, instead breaking the kiss to rock back on his haunches. She made a little sound of protest, and then she watched as he slid his hands down her legs, pulling her feet into his lap. He began to undo the straps on one of her heels, and then slung the small shoe over his shoulder before working on the other one. Buffy sipped the red wine, the sweet liquid slipping down her throat smoothly and then closed her eyes with a murmur of pleasure as Spike began to rub the soles of her feet.

He massaged her feet for several moments, listening to the lovely little subdued moans escaping her sweet lips and the way she closed her eyes, the lashes fluttering against her cheeks. He eased her feet gently off of his lap, and then stood, pulling her into a standing position, removing the wine glass from her hands and setting it aside. "Time to lose the dress, pet," He purred quietly, tracing the edge of her collarbone with one finger, till it slipped beneath one of the thin straps holding it up. He flicked it so that it slid down her shoulder, and he dropped his head, kissing her shoulder, and Buffy shivered as his cool lips slid along her skin.

She tilted her head to the side as his lips approached her throat, and Spike slid behind her, and his mouth softened over her throat, and he nearly groaned as he swept his tongue along her throbbing artery, her taste exploding on his tongue. He slid the other strap off of her shoulder, reluctantly taking a step back as the red silk slipped down her body and pooled on the floor at her feet. His mouth went dry as Buffy was clad in nothing but a pair of white lace panties, and his eyes swept up and down her back and he nearly fell to his knees as she turned to face him, head ducking a tiny bit, tendrils of golden hair falling into her eyes.

"One of us is wearing way too much clothing," Buffy observed coyly, cocking her head slightly as she started to reach for the belt of his robe, but he captured her wrists, kissing her heatedly for several minutes, till she melted against him with a low moan. She broke the kiss this time to breath, and she panted heavily as Spike smirked at her cockily.

"Not quite yet, luv," He told her, and Buffy giggled as he swooped her up in his arms and then he dropped her in the center of the bed. The satin and rose petals felt exquisite against her ski, soft, smooth and fragrant. She smiled as she watched Spike crawl up onto the bed, and he moved over her, face hovering inches from hers. "I have a surprise for you," He told her in the soft, husky voice he knew drove her wild, and he had to swat her hands away from his robe once more. "Hey, stop that."

"Look up," He instructed, and then reached over her head, pulling on a red cord she had failed to notice before, and she raised an eyebrow as the black velvet over the top of the bed fell on top of them, covering her head.

"No offense, but smothering to death in velvet..." She tugged the black material away from her head, making a face, "Sucky present. " Spike rolled his eyes at her, and then a smirk grew on his face as he watched Buffy's eyes go wide as she stared up at the ceiling, "Oh...my God."

"Like it?" Spike's cool breath fanned against her throat as he nuzzled her throat with a small sigh of pleasure, just at being so close to her, and lifted his head when Buffy didn't answer right away. She was still staring upwards, still looking a little stunned, and a worried frown crossed over his forehead, "Too much? It's too weird..." He asked her worriedly, "If you don't like it, I can..."

"No, it's just...wow..." Buffy continued to stare upwards at the gilded mirror above them. It was huge, about the size of the entire bed, the border a carved, gilt frame filled with intricate whorls and hoops. She could see herself in it, lying on Spike's bed, clad in nothing but her underwear, her entire body looking flushed to her, which it probably was, since it felt like her entire body was on fire. Spike, of course, wasn't visible in it, but she could see her hair moving aside by itself, and the indent of the mattress beside her. "I mean...okay, wow..."

"Not necessarily," Spike laid his hand on her stomach, "Remember the whole Invisi-Slayer thing?" Buffy flinched at the reminder, but Spike kissed her forehead reassuringly, "No worries, pet...that's all forgotten..." He grinned, "Sort of, anyway." She swatted him, and he chuckled, continuing to stroke her stomach lightly as she still stared up at the mirror. "'Member the way you threw me up against the wall...started tearin' my clothes off? Once I got over the whole worry 'bout my virtue bein' compromised by a spook thing, had me really turned on..."

"Fine, I'm easy," Spike shook his head, "Point is..." he slid his hand up her body and cupped a breast lightly, and Buffy watched in the mirror as it seemed to move by itself, and she exhaled a soft 'oh'. "Just thought you'd like to know what it feels like when your partner can't be seen." He lifted his head abruptly, "Not that we're goin' to be knockin' down any nerds doors and stealing invisible rays anytime soon..."

Buffy laughed softly, rolling to her side so that she faced him, "I think I know what you're getting at," She replied softly, and then cocked her head when she saw Spike frowning. "What?"

Buffy blushed and Spike smirked, "Elizabeth Anne Summers...watchin' dirty movies...what? Were they the whelp's? Did you find his stash? Oh...no...I bet it was the Watcher's...he had a nice collection..."

"Pet, I got news for you...every male on the planet bloody well has porn...unless he's gay...but then they have gay porn. Hell, I bet even the Wiccans have a nice selection of Playboy..."

She covered her chest, shuddering, "God, Spike...way to kill the mood..." She reached over and grabbed her still half-filled wine glass and drained the rest of it swiftly, still looking a bit green around the gills, "I sooo did not need to know that about Giles."

"He's a Watcher, pet...not a cloistered monk, for God's sake," Spike sat up with her and started to kiss the back of her neck and shoulder blades, "Come now...don't be a spoil sport, eh?" He ran his hands down her arms and slowly moved them so that they were no longer covering her chest, "Make you forget all about the nasty Watcher images."

Spike smiled when he saw what she was doing and he moved from behind her and eased her back down to the bed, "Just watch the mirror, pet," He told her with a grin as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties and drew them down her legs, smiling as he watched her body flush a rosy hue as she blushed furiously, but the smell of her arousal was permeating the air and driving him nearly mad. He tugged on the sashes holding the curtains of his bed closed, and Buffy watched as they fell into place, feeling a thrill run through her body. There was something definitely erotic about watching an unseen person undress you and the way the curtains fell into place made her feel as if she was being hid from the world's view, almost protected.

Spike felt all of his borrowed blood rush down to his netherparts, and he bit his lips as he looked down at his Goddess sprawled on the bed in front of him, golden hair spread across black pillows and dark curls glistening in the candlelight. "So very beautiful," He breathed as he stuffed her panties into the pocket of his robe, and Buffy looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Watch the mirror, pet," He instructed, unfazed. He already had a nice collection of her underwear building up, and she already bloody well knew it. Still, she always felt obligated to give him a little teasing about it, but it didn't bother him. She still wasn't going to give them back anytime soon. Buffy rolled her eyes but looked back up at the mirror, chewing on her bottom lip a bit, and Spike grinned as he finally shed his robe and opened the curtains long enough to toss it out, and then turned to the business at hand.

He leaned over her to reach beneath one of the pillows, and Buffy watched as an unseen hand withdrew a dark purple rose from it's depths, and she hazarded a glance at Spike, and barely resisted the urge to jump him then and there. He was holding the rose in his hand, fingering the stem almost lovingly, his gaze on her. His eyes were filled with such tenderness, longing, and love that it made her feel as though her breath was being sucked from her body. "Watch the mirror," He practically croaked out, and then cleared his throat, his voice coming out without cracking this time, "Just watch, kitten."

She turned her eyes back upwards, but closed them as the rose trailed down from her forehead and down her nose. She opened them again when the soft petals caressed her lips, watching as the seemingly floating blossom danced across her collarbone, stroking and touching, whispering against her skin, seeming to electrify every nerve ending it touched.

Spike smiled as he watched Buffy's reaction to his playing, taking in every little moan and whisper that tumbled from her swollen lips, eyes drinking in the way she arched her body upwards as he trailed the rose across the tops of her breasts. Buffy clenched the bedclothes in her fists, lips parted as she watched and felt the rose playing across her breasts, Spike teasingly circling the very outside of her nipples, but never touching the pebbled mounds. "Spike...please..." She said pleadingly, eyes turning down to his, "I need..."

Spike smiled as he tossed the rose to the side and slowly moved over top of her, lips brushing teasingly against hers, and he pulled back when she attempted to deepen the kiss, and chuckled when she let out a frustrated growl. "Patience, Buffy," He said quietly, "It'll all be worth it, I promise..."

She closed her eyes, letting out a sound of frustration when he slid away from her, and then watched curiously as he grabbed a pillow and slipped it beneath her butt. He then took her hands in his and placed them on her own breasts, eyes shining mischievously. He moved back down her body and rested his hands on her knees, and parted them slowly as soon as she turned her eyes upwards, and Buffy immediately moaned as she watched her legs being spread by her 'invisible' lover. She began to knead her own breasts, biting her lip as she tug and rolled her hardened nipples, breath escaping from her in heated pants.

Spike lowered his head, keeping his eyes on her expressive face, wanting to see everything that she was feeling, not wanting to miss one second of emotion that could cross her face. Buffy gasped when she felt his mouth fasten over her sex, finding it hard to concentrate on the images above her as his tongue slid inside her, and then curling around her clit before diving back inside her. She arched her back, still playing with her nipples. She started to thrash beneath his mouth, on the very edge of cumming and Spike started to saw a finger inside her, and then two, and then three, till he was having a hard time keeping her still, even with his hands holding her hips firmly. Spike rubbed his cheek against the soft skin of her inner thigh before turning his face towards it and vamping out.

Buffy suddenly screamed as his fangs sank into her thigh, back forming a near perfect arch as she lifted off the bed, eyes slamming shut as she cried out Spike's name in a breathless litany. As soon as he had bitten her, he had withdrawn his fangs, and then her thighs had slammed shut around his head, trapping him there, and he took advantage of his not needing oxygen to feast on the sweet release that was pooling between her legs. Buffy's eyes shot open as she stared up at the mirror and she cried out again as she came once more, simply from the image of an invisible entity between her legs, supping on her eagerly, tongue flicking out to catch each and every drop that leaked out of her.

Spike nuzzled his face against the somewhat rough, wire-like hair covering her mound, and as Buffy slowly came down from her high, her legs relaxed, allowing his head to escape it's very pleasant prison. He slid up beside her, bringing the pillow with him. She panted harshly, trying to catch her breath, entire body glowing from the aftereffects of her orgasms, and he couldn't help but smirk a bit as she seemed oblivious to everything around her as she fought to regain control of her mind and body.

Spike propped his head up on his hand, the other combing through her hair gently, and he whispered softly to her, telling her she was beautiful, that he loved her, that he would never leave her side, as long as he lived. It took several moments for her to regain some semblance of control, and she glanced towards Spike, who was smiling down at her tenderly. "Wow..." She breathed, shaking her head a bit, "That was...wow."

"I'm not sure," Buffy smiled at him wickedly, absently picking up a handful of rose petals and dripping them along the side of his body, "We might have to do further testing. Just to be sure. Giles is always telling me to be thorough in everything I do."

"Oh, yeah," Spike smirked at her lightly, moving to nuzzle her cheek with his nose, and taking her right hand in his, "We should be very, very thorough, I think. We wanted to miss a single detail, now would we? Could be disastrous."

Buffy smiled up at him as he gracefully rolled his body over her, watching as the taut muscles in his arms rippled with the movement. He still clasped one of her hands, and he took her free one in his other hand, entwining his fingers with her, and pinning her hands beside her head with them.

He settled the lower half of his body between her legs, his erection straining to be joined with his Slayer, but he ignored the thrum of pulsing need between his legs, instead capturing Buffy's lips and kissing her deeply, wanting to be just as thorough in this as in the mirror testing. Buffy tugged her hands loose from his in order to explore the smooth planes of his back, palms flat against it, skimming along the hard surface. Spike broke the kiss, and Buffy's gaze slid back up to the mirror, and she moaned softly when as she watched her hands exploring the body of her non-reflective lover. Spike smiled at the sound as he braced himself on his arms, watching her face as he slid within her slick channel, pausing as he was struck forcibly by the heat of her body. No matter how many times he made love to her, he would never get used to the feel of her hot body against his cold one, and frankly, he hoped he would never get used to it.

At that one, exact second he slipped into her body, the heat of her encasing his cold shaft, he could swear, just for an instant, that he felt what it was like to be alive once more. At that one instant, his chest tightened, as if he had trouble breathing, a sharp exhalation was jerked from his lips, and his entire body would go rigid and still, but still humming with a primal energy that would surge up and down his body from where he connected to his love.

Buffy watched his face always at that one moment; feeling as if that was the one-second his entire being was ever truly exposed to her. His facial bones always shifted beneath the skin, his lush lips parted as a shuddering breath was drawn from them and his dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks. If his eyes were open, like they were now, there was always an expression of wonder or even awe visible in the dark orbs, almost looking shocked at the feeling of joining her or maybe it was the fact that he was doing it at all, she couldn't quite tell. He was never more beautiful then he was in that brief moment. She reached up to cup his face and drawing his head down to hers to kiss him languidly, the mirror forgotten for the moment, and then the spell was broken, and Spike started to move within in her slowly, even though his body was taut with need, every nerve ending singing within him, desperately wanting to seek his own release, but he held off.

Buffy lifted her eyes back up to the mirror as she hooked her legs around Spike's torso, fingers digging into the hard flesh of his back. Harsh pants were torn from her lips, her eyes wide as she watched him moving unseen between her thighs. Spike's growls filled her ears as he slipped a hand between their bodies, and fingered the small, hard bundle of nerves between her legs, and Buffy arched her body up into his, crying out his name loudly, eyes closing as her head thrashed on his pillows. Then, before Spike could find his own release, Buffy threw him off of her, and the shock of losing his connection with him paralyzed him, and he could only stare up at the mirrored ceiling in shocked confusion, his cock throbbing painfully, having been on the verge of release that was now denied him.

"Wha--?" He crooked, still stunned, and then Buffy moved over him, taking his cock in her warm hand, positioning herself over him and sinking down on him with a low groan. "Oh God," Spike gasped out as Buffy smiled at him wickedly, resting her hands on his hard chest and started to move against him slowly, stopping when she saw his face tighten in what looked like pain.

"Don't...bloody...well...stop..." He gritted out through clenched teeth, feeling as if his entire body was on fire, and his prick felt like it was about ready to explode and not in the fun way. Buffy only wrinkled her nose at him, and then set a slow, torturous pace that was sure to kill him, and he watched as she slowly slid up his shaft, breasts bouncing enticingly, bathed golden in the light of the candles, her hair looking almost like a burnished gold. He tried ineffectually to get her to speed up her pace, but she grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head, giving him a pout.

"Just watch the mirror, baby, and let me take care of you," She said in a husky voice, and he let out a little defeated moan, head dropping back down on the pillows as Buffy completely stilled her movement, waiting several moments for him to calm down some, even though she had to be very much well aware of the torture she was putting him through. She slid her hands down his arms, watching the twisted, pained look on his face, and lowered her face down to his, her hair framing his face.

"Calm, love," She said softly, raining small kisses over his face, across his closed eyelids, along his sharp cheekbones. He wriggled beneath her impatiently, making little mewling sounds that touched her straight to the core, and she was finding it hard to remain in control. When he finally stilled a bit, she straightened and began to move against him, swatting his hands away when he tried to reach for her. "Just watch the mirror, pet," She said with a smirk, using his own words against him.

Spike let out feral growl, blue eyes flashing yellow briefly, "Buffy..." He let out a choked gasp as she suddenly squeezed her inner muscles as tight as she could around him, "Oh...God..." Buffy watched as his eyes rolled back into his head, and then she smacked him on the cheek, bringing him back to her.

"Watch," She ordered firmly, bracing herself against him, and Spike bit his bottom lip and turned dazed, lust-filled eyes up to the mirror. Buffy smiled down at him, laying prostrate beneath her, his arms above his head, gaze on the mirror just as she had ordered him. She started to run her fingers along his chest, fingertips barely brushing against his skin, making the muscles quiver in her wake as she lightly tickled him, and Spike's eyes closed, his head turning to the side as he moaned.

"Just watch," She ordered, and then braced herself against his body, closing her eyes as she raised herself up on his erection, and Spike stared up at the mirror, watching as Buffy hovered over empty air. She suddenly dropped down on him, and a snarl was ripped from his throat at the force of the connection, his hips arching off the bed to fuse with hers. Buffy let out a small strangled cry of her own, and then she started to furiously ride him. She tossed her head back, eyes slitted so that she could watch the mirror as well, the sight of her bouncing on nothing incredibly erotic.

Spike's eyes were slightly crossed as he watched Buffy instead of the mirror. Vampires didn't enjoy mirrors that much, the fact that they didn't reflect bothering them on a mental level, and he was uncomfortable watching it, but that wouldn't deter him from enjoying the way Buffy's breasts were vigorously jiggling above, almost hypnotizing him. He brought his knees up against Buffy's back to support her and sat up, bracing himself up with his arms.

Buffy tensed as his mouth fastened over one her nipples, and then he was suckling at her breast furiously, and she clutched his head to her ches, holding him by the shoulders, starting to mutter his name over and over again as the sensation of his cool lips playing around the sensitive peaks. She watched the wanton scene in the mirror, eyes widening as she felt the heat building in her womb. Spike felt the tightening of her muscles and released her nipple, looking up at the mirror now so that he could see her face.

Her eyes were now closed, and she slammed onto him a final time before everything broke apart. She tensed around him so tightly, it felt as if his dick was about to be sliced off, and he roared, facial bones shifting and eyes flaring golden as his demon sprung to the fore, and Buffy looked down at him at the sound. She suddenly tightened her grip on his shoulders, fingernails bursting through the pale skin. She felt the bursts of his cold seed filling her, and she threw her head back, letting out a loud, shrill scream that echoed off the walls of the closed chamber, stars bursting across her vision. Spike continued to thrust up into her furiously, hands now on her hips, holding her against him tightly as she milked him for all that he was worth, and then he collapsed back down on the bed, harsh pants ripped from his dead lungs.

Buffy fell forward onto his chest, still intimately connected to him, listening to his unnecessary breaths. Her body felt limp, completely spent and sated, and she lifted her head, feeling as if it weighed about a thousand pounds to look up at Spike. His eyes were slightly wide, his lips parted, looking completely stunned. "Spike?"

He lifted his head slightly, looking at her with dazed eyes, obviously struggling to recognize her and his mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he was having trouble forming words.

Buffy started to giggle, remembering Dawn telling her to 'screw Spike till his brains leaked out of his ears.' There was no brain matter staining the pillow, which was good, cause...ew...but the effect was pretty much the same. She playfully waved a hand in front of his face, "Anyone home?"

"Not bloody likely," Spike mumbled, and then shifted a bit so that he could nuzzle Buffy's throat tenderly, "I just think you broke my bleedin' spine...again. Can't feel anything below my neck..."

Spike groaned against her skin and then rolled them so that she was below him and began to shallowly thrust into her, a mock-exasperated look on his face. "Bloody well tryin' to kill me, pet, aren't you?"