Sometimes The Devil Is A Gentlemen


Written by: Delia
 Author's Website





Summary: Buffy and Spike get it on. She's trying to escape the very real reality of her mother being sick and Riley being an asshole. ...Or this could be a PWP.
Spoilers: Season 5. This is happening somewhere in the muddled mess that is Riley and *sniff* Joyce.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
Special Thanks: DevilPiglet. First, you put me in a psychotic mood with "Roundabout." Then this popped out. Also to Saber ShadowKitten-A Ghost of a Chance inspired me to ship B/S.
Notes: This may seem to end abruptly, for which I'm sorry.
Feedback: Please! This is my first NC-17, so be gentle. XoDorketteoX@aol.com





He sat down next to her, hugging his coat tighter to his body. "You look like you've just lost your best friend," he said.

"You could say that." She stared at the stretch of pavement leading up to her back porch, not wanting to meet his eyes. If she did, she would be in an even more vulnerable state than she was now.

"Him? You two love birds fightin'?"

"That's part of it." She missed his questioning look, but went on with, "Throw in some Mom problems. My best week ever."

"I'm sorry." He finally turned his head to her at the exact moment she decided to look at him. Her guard was down now.

"No big deal, but thanks. I don't know if I even care right now." She cast her eyes towards the pavement again. He laid a gentle hand on her back.

"Come on. S'not the Slayer I know talking. You never give up that easily."

"Yea, well, tonight I do. I'm just..," her voice faltered, "I'm just not strong enough anymore." She put a hand over her eyes. "I feel so weak."

"Weak enough for me to sneak in a kiss?" The question startled her, but caused a fierce tingling sensation in her belly that was all too familiar when she was around Spike. She nearly said yes, but stopped herself. She pondered her situation briefly. Her mother was very sick, a reality she was desperate to escape. Her current beau seemed to be getting...well, annoying. In the way. Also something she didn't want to deal with. Her mother was spending yet another night in the hospital and Dawn decided to sleep over a friend's house. It seemed to be all too convenient.

"Weak enough for more than a kiss." She smiled to herself. Clever answer. She looked up at him, fully expecting the surprise that filled his eyes. What she didn't expect was how quickly that surprise turned to a heated look. He smiled and challenged, "Really?"

"Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper. He leaned in toward her, lifting a hand to rest on her cheek. He tilted her head upward before capturing her lips.

The kiss was soft at first, but grew with a deep intensity and passion as their need for each other took over. She opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue battle with her own. Her bottom lip was met with teeth as she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. They finally broke off, Buffy breathing for the air lost to Spike, and he breathing for no particular reason.

"You know," he spoke, after a moment's silence, "if it's more than a kiss that you want, you and I could go inside and..." He let the sentence hang in the air, but was only met with a questioning look.

"And we could...what?" The question was innocent, but her voice dripped with lust. She knew what he wanted, knew what she wanted, but wanted to hear him say it.

"You know..." his eyes roamed downward, traveling over her breasts to the crux of her thighs. He would give anything to be buried deep inside her right now. He was fighting the urge to take her then and there.

"Tell me, Spike." Her fingers lightly traced a line from his lips down to his chest. "Tell me what you want to do to me." He fixed his eyes on hers once again. Although their kiss had ended in what seemed an enormous amount of time ago, he continued to breathe heavily for unneeded air.

"Want you so bad," he gasped out. "Want to make love to you 'til you scream." He crushed his mouth to hers, tangling his fingers in her hair. He gently tugged her head away from his to break the kiss, huskily adding, "God, I want to fuck you."

She wasted no time in reacting. The tingling in her stomach had now turned to a burning sensation and was making its way downward. She grabbed the back of his head and kissed him roughly before springing to her feet. He quickly followed suit. His right arm shot out, grabbing her around the waist. Their noses were touching, leaving them nowhere to look but each other's eyes. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach. Now her whole body was on fire, desperately needing him to touch her.

"Do it, Spike," she challenged him. "Make it hurt." He grinned wickedly then released her, heading for the door.

The second it shut, her back was up against the wall, his body smothering hers. She bit, hard, on his upper lip, provoking a groan from deep in his throat.

"Slayer," he moaned. "Love, let's go upstairs." His words were sex, as was the look in his eyes. She shared the same hunger and desire she saw there. She pushed him away and blew past him, racing up the steps. He bounded after her.

Yet another door shut behind them as they shed each other of their coats. His fingers blindly traveled their way over the buttons of her shirt. On the third one down, he gave up altogether. The rapid succession of pops as her buttons flew off rang out in the silence of the house.

"I never liked that shirt, anyway," she said dismissively. Spike smiled inwardly at the prospect of telling her that he never particularly enjoyed any of her shirts; he'd rather see them on the floor of his crypt. Or, in this case, her bedroom.

She tugged his t-shirt over his head, momentarily breaking their frantic kisses. One hand went to the small of her back and the other cupped the back of her head as he dipped his tongue into her mouth. She applied pressure to the back of his head, inviting his tongue to go deeper. Her other hand worked the zipper of his jeans. Buffy swung them around and fumbled backward onto her bed, the two landing in a tangled mess. His pants were halfway down his ass. She wasted no time in pulling them down the rest of the way, kicking them off the bed. She groped at his waist again, feeling around for the underwear she eagerly wanted to discard, only to find none. She broke away from his mouth and took in the length of his body.

"Oh," she mumbled. "You don't..? Um...no?" Spike glanced downward, momentarily confused. Is my manhood gone? What in the hell is she talking about? The he realized and smiled. No skivvies.

"No. Why bother?" Her smile was soon covered by his lips in a kiss that was soft and slow. He lifted her up off the bed in order to rest her head on the pillow. While he propped himself up on one arm, his other hand alternated combing through her hair and caressing her face. This sudden change of pace scared her. She just wanted to get away from her life for a little while, not be loved and coddled. Especially not by him.

Or did she?

She let herself be swept away by his gentleness. She trailed her fingers along his back, drawing lazy circles that caused him to twitch slightly and chuckle against her mouth. The thought of him being ticklish flickered in her mind momentarily, bringing with it the sense that he was human. No, she reminded herself. He's not. He's a monster. Then she shuddered at the thought, A monster that's going to make love to you.

"Buffy?" She looked up into Spike's eyes, wielding confusion. She realized that she had stiffened under his weight and was no longer touching him. It also occurred to her that he had called her by her name, not Slayer. The fleeting thought of his being human hit her again. She decided she liked that idea, although she knew it would never be true. She was just rolling in the sack with a vampire-again. This time, though, there was no risk of a lost soul. That was a comfort in its own.

"Sorry..this is all just kind of..."

"I know," he whispered. She leaned up and took his bottom lip between her own, gently sucking. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled over, positioning her on top. He continued to kiss her as he unclasped her bra. He cupped her breasts in his hands, letting the pads of his thumbs rub her nipples. She moaned into his mouth and was more than ready to help him when he attempted to rid her of her pants.

"Cor, Slayer, how do you fit in these things?" He persisted in pushing on her jeans even when they would go no further down her legs. She rocked back on her butt and pulled at the bottoms of them, sliding them off and onto the floor with ease. "It's Buffy," she whispered, crawling up his body. "Please call me Buffy." She bent her head to nip at his neck and continued to work her way down his chest, tending to his pebbled nipples, then poking her tongue into his belly button. She licked and kissed her way down farther, stopping at the dark curls that alluded to the fact Spike was not a natural blond. She picked her head up a bit to gain access to his most sensitive area and for the first time got a good look at it.

She faltered in her actions for only a second, but Spike could tell she had been a little more than surprised at what she saw. This amused him, but all thoughts of her staring in wide-eyed wonder were soon forgotten when the heat of her mouth enveloped him. He dropped his head back onto the pillow and gripped the sheets at his sides. "Buffy..oh God, Buffy.."

She continued a smooth up and down motion, stopping momentarily to swirl her tongue around the head of his cock, only to take it all into her mouth in one swift movement. He gripped the sheets until his knuckles turned white as she began to follow her mouth with her hand, gently twisting as she went. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch her, a waterfall of gold cascading over her face onto his stomach, preventing him from seeing anything. He reached out and swept her hair to one side. What he saw nearly startled him to orgasm. His blond beauty was finally here with him, engaging in one of the most intimate acts one could know. And she looked damn beautiful doing it. He wanted to cry.

Instead, he threw his head back and fought down the demon as he came, hips jerking slightly and arms going out from underneath him. He groaned in protest when he felt cold air come rushing back around his cock in place of her heat.

She straddled his stomach, leaned in, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He looked up at her through hooded eyes, a smug smile on his face. Then he was on top of her, nipping at her right ear, making his way down to her chest. He caught one nipple between blunt teeth, biting and sucking. He did the same to the other as his hand snaked its way down to Buffy's core. Fire met ice as he slid first one finger, then two inside her. He gently pumped them in and out, never taking his eyes away from her. Even as he traveled the length of her body, fingers still at work, their gaze never broke. He finally lowered his eyes to the nest of curls (Dark curls, mind you, he thought) that thinly covered her sex. His tongue darted out, barely a whisper across her clit. She whimpered and raised her head to shoot him a look that usually meant the stake was about to come out. So he obliged. Not out of fear, but simply having a desire to do so.

His tongue flicked over her clit, picking up pace. His fingers still worked inside her, but now there were three. He pressed a hand to her stomach, keeping her hips from bucking too wildly. Moans, hisses, and his name escaped her lips at random intervals until she finally let it all go with a short "Oh!" and the clamping of her legs around his head.

She rode out her orgasm, squeezing her legs tighter still. Thank God I don't need to breathe. She finally settled onto the bed, stretching her arms and legs out, letting the peaceful calm that is the aftermath of orgasm wash over her. He withdrew his fingers (met with a weak moaning protest) and came to rest on top of her.

He nudged her legs apart, eyes silently asking. She accepted him with no hesitation and held his eyes with hers as he thrust into her for the first time. Both inhaled sharply at the new wave of sensations that washed over them. He buried his face in her neck as he continued an age-old rhythm he was sure the both of them would know over and over again that night.

Buffy raised her hips to meet his every thrust, nails leaving thin lines of blood behind them as they trailed his lower back. He began peppering kisses along her neck, then stopped, thinking he'd heard something.

"Spike?" Faintly, he heard her whispering between hitched breathing. He lifted his head up.

"Yea, love?"

"Don't ever...stop touching me. Just...don't...please.." And she was lost in a string of OhGodSpikeDon'tStopOhGodSpikeSpikeSpike as her body tensed, nails digging in completely. He watched her squeeze her eyes shut, lips now silently forming his name over and over again. He felt her tighten around him, sending him spiraling into orgasm with cries of her name muffled against her neck. He thrust in and out of her, more savagly now. Both continued to mumble and moan until the first climax of the night wore off, stilling them both.

Buffy let her head flop back onto the pillow, nearly crushing Spike's nose in the process. "Ok, ow," he said, beginning to laugh. She turned her head to face him and smiled. He slowly pulled out of her, then he was beside her, arm wrapped around her midsection. She was amazed at his gentle nature. She expected mindless, lust driven fucking. What she actually received was a pleasant surprise. Buffy had enjoyed her time with Spike. Even craved more of it. She in fact did forget about her troubles tonight, but subconsciously she knew she had just added one more to the pile.

But that was nothing to think of now.

Her head rolled in the direction of his chest and nestled there. He stroked her cheek with his hand. "Tired?"

"Mmm...yes." He lay there, fascinated by the rise and fall of her chest, until he finally realized that she was asleep. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek, careful not to disturb her slumber, then settled down with his head resting beside her, partly covered by her hair. "I love you, Buffy," he whispered, seemingly to no one at all.

What he didn't see was the smile on her face.
 


THE END


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