Title: Lay Your Hands On Me

Author: Aerin

Email: aerin@witchery.faithweb.com

Feedback: Has me jumping around my room in delight

Distribution: Archived in the near future at http://www.witchery.faithweb.com If you’d like it, let me know. I give chocolate fish to people who want it.

Disclaimer: I have no chocolate fish =)

Disclaimer 2: Joss Whedon and WB own it all, I’m a student type with no money whatsoever

Rating: PG-13-ish. I don’t know. I already mentioned nipples before I rated it. So warning … somebody in this fic has nipples.

Spoilers: None whatsoever. Set Season Four.

Summary: Light, fluffy, my-exams-are-over fic. Willow is tense and needs some helping hands. Yeah, I just want them to get semi-naked and rub each other alllll over.
 
 

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~Part 1~

“Ohhh, uhhh. I am _so_ sore.”
 

Willow moved her head from side to side, grimacing as she tried to click her neck back into place. She giggled nervously.
 

“I’d call a masseuse, but, you know, the only ones working at this hour of the night … not strictly what I’m after.”
 

Spike looked up at her with a leer. “If you call one, can I watch?”
 

“Spike, I’m not calling a stripper.”
 

He pouted, then brightened. “But if you do … can I borrow her?”
 

“You are no help at all, are you?” She focused on him, her expression confused. “And, what are you doing here?”
 

He shrugged. “I got bored.”
 

“I don’t have a TV here,” Willow warned, massaging her hands. They were sore from hours of writing and typing, but it was her neck and shoulders that were really bugging her. Every time she moved she ached. Thank heaven it was all over.
 

“I know. I’m thinkin’ of buying you one.”
 

She dropped her hands to stare at him. “Really?”

“If you call a stripper,” he grinned, winking at her.
 

“Why don’t you just call your own stripper?”
 

“Because they don’t come to graveyards. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
 

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Ohhh, Spike. You not getting any?”
 

“You don’t have to _grin_, pet. This was a strip only thing, no snacking, no f – uh, no anything else-ing. I was just bored, like bloody usual. Anyway, can I call one from here, then?”
 

“No! Big no! You are not having fun with a stripper in my room while I’m in pain!”
 

“So if we got rid of the pain, it’s an option?”
 

“You have a thing for threesomes, don’t you?”
 

“Baby, I’m a guy.”
 

Willow made a face. “Yeah, and then some girl talks about a little threesome with two _guys_ and you’re all ‘ewww’ and ‘that’s sick!’”
 

Spike grinned. “Don’t look at me, pet. Been there, done that.”
 

Willow paused. “… Really?”
 

His grin widened. “_Really_.”
 

“You know, they have guys … who do massage … and stuff …” Willow suggested idly, her finger tracing intent circles on her bedspread.
 

Spike watched her finger. “You want to do … stuff?”
 

Willow’s breath caught. *Oh yeah.*
 

“I, I mean … technically … _we_ could … do stuff. No need to bother … anyone else.”
 

“But … aren’t you all achy?”
 

“You’ve been around a century and a quarter and you’ve never given a massage?”
 

He shrugged. “Unbelievable, isn’t it. But … I could try.”
 

Willow tossed him a bottle of massage oil from her dresser.
 

“Then oil up.”
 

“Baby … you talk sexy.”
 

She rolled a large, dry towel out on her bed, and kicked off her shoes.
 

Spike was juggling the oil bottle idly, watching her intently. He had taken off his duster, slinging it over her desk chair.
 

“So … are we talking full body massage here?” he asked casually.
 

Willow swallowed.
 

“Well, it’s my neck, and back, and shoulders that need it,” she replied lightly. “But the oil can be kind of messy, so I’ll have to take off my jeans. Uh, they’re new.”
 

“Messy, huh?”
 

She slipped out of her t-shirt, then her jeans, and finally turned away from him as she took off her bra. She quickly lay on the towel, her arms resting under her head.
 

As she turned to face Spike, he slowly took off his t-shirt.
 

*Jewowee.*
 

“Wouldn’t want to get that messy from the oil,” he smirked, pouring some onto his hands and slowly rubbing them together.
 

“Of course not,” she responded, her voice breathy.
 

His hands were slightly warm from the oil, hard and large. He laid them softly against her back, and she sighed.
 

“You _are_ tense,” he said softly. “Any instructions?”
 

“Firm, but not hard … use your thumbs … go deep,” Willow replied, distracted at his fingers, circling the small of her back lightly.
 

“Deep, huh?” he repeated, his finger running to the waistband of her silk panties.
 

*I am sooo glad I wore my lucky exam panties.*
 

“Mmmhmm.”
 

“Let me know if I’m too … vigorous … pet.”
 

His hands shifted to her neck, running softly over the skin to adjust it to his touch. She wondered if he could feel the heat, radiating from her skin.
 

His hands closed over her shoulders. She gave a slight groan, and he relaxed a little.
 

“Too much?”
 

“A bit more. Feels good.”
 

“Is this all it takes to get you monosyllabic?”
 

“’Bout.”
 

He chuckled, increasing the pressure slightly and rotating the muscles. His thumbs came into play, digging deeply into the taut flesh, and Willow moaned ecstatically.
 

His fingers bit deeper, and Willow buried her face into the blankets. The thin line between pleasure and pain was blurred, the good pain of impending relief.
 

His large thumbs stretched up her neck, and she could feel their slight roughness against the slick oil. He was not gentle, but nor was he rough. Just intense.
 

Her neck and shoulders were jelly as he manipulated them, and then slid to her back to continue. He moved over her upper back with the same natural touch, his hands circling firmly. She started slightly as his fingers brushed near her breasts, and she felt her nipples tighten.
 

His hands moved on her spine and to the small of her back, then lower to almost touch her butt. He paused, and she heard him pour more oil on his hands.
 

Suddenly, he straddled her, and bent low. She felt his stomach against her back as he returned his hands to her shoulders, rubbing the fragrant oil deep into her skin. His hands moved lower, and her body wiggled at the sensations.
 

He stopped suddenly, and she heard him force a tight breath from his lungs.
 

“Might pay to stop moving so much, pet,” he warned.
 

“What if I order the full Monty?” she breathed, then blinked in horror as she realized what she had just suggested.
 

He laughed, and traced her butt suggestively.
 

“You don’t want to call some company?”
 

“I … I think I can handle just you.”
 

Spike flipped her over quickly, and covered her body quickly with his.
 

“You only _think_ that,” he whispered roughly.
 

~Part 2~

His mouth enveloped hers, his kiss insistent.
 

She gave herself willingly to it, her newly limber body arching into his arms. His chest was cool and hard against her, flattening her breasts. His legs lay between her thighs, pushing them apart so she could feel the bulge in his jeans against her core.
 

“Uh … air,” she murmured, as breathing became an issue.
 

Spike tore his mouth free to lick and suck at her neck. Willow gulped in air, then zeroed in on his touch. The intensity drove little waves of pleasure through her, and she whimpered as one hand moved down to her breast.
 

He cupped her in his palm, softly kneading the flesh even as his blunt teeth scraped down her tingling throat. As his finger and thumb took hold of her swollen nipple, she gave a breathy cry, lifting her hips to rub against him.
 

His other hand slid into the waistband of her panties as his tongue delved into her mouth again. His possessive kiss meant that she only dimly realized he was pulling her panties free from her legs. Yet once the scrap of silk was tossed to the floor she threw her legs around his waist, trapping his hardness against her.
 

He ground his erection into her pussy and his tongue into her mouth simultaneously, both of his hands now on her breasts. He twisted her nipples and she moved her hands eagerly to his belt. His cock sprung into her hands, and she ran her fingers over its cool length.
 

Spike lifted his mouth from hers, groaning as she stroked him. His face rippled into his demon visage, and he thrust himself against her fingers. She made an involuntary gasp as she looked into the wrinkled skin around his closed eyes, and they snapped open, gleaming yellow.
 

He pulled away from her, pushing her legs free from his back and moving off the bed. Willow’s mouth fell open in disappointment, and she rose quickly to her knees, her pussy wet and throbbing in unfulfilled anticipation.
 

“Where are you going?!” she asked in panic.
 

Spike gave her a slow grin, the dimples of his changed face even deeper than normal. He shucked off his jeans, baring his pale body completely. He tilted his head at her, his hands on hips as she looked hungrily over his body. Finally, he spoke.
 

“Nowhere at all.”
 

He was back against her body in an instant, and she barely had time to bless vampiric speed before he thrust deeply into her. She groaned as he filled her, and locked her arms around his neck, melding him against her body.
 

His hand squirmed in to touch her clit, rubbing the slippery bud between his fingers. She bucked into his touch, and he slid from her pussy before slamming in again. His rhythm was fast and hard, and she felt unbelievably stretched by his large cock.
 

Spike licked hungrily down her neck and upper chest, then his mouth covered her nipple. She shrieked and clamped tightly on his cock as his fangs brushed her, then his cool tongue.
 

His fingers moved faster on her clit and he glanced up from her breast, his face taut.
 

“Willow?” he questioned tensely.
 

She nodded at him hard, unable to speak. He dropped his head back to her rosy nipple, sucking on it intensely as he thrust harder into her pussy. Willow cried out as her core began to throb, and her nipple popped free of his mouth as he let out a shout. He drove deeply into her one more time, then his fangs closed back around her nipple.
 

A second wave of pleasure rushed through her as her breast was lanced with pain, and her walls hungrily milked him of his cold seed. He relaxed into her as her limbs lost their tension, and her arms were loose around his neck as he gently lapped at her breast.
 

Spike’s now smooth face was buried against her skin, and she brushed her fingers lightly through his hair. After a moment or two he lifted his head, fixing a blissful smile upon her.
 

“That was _nice_,” he said dreamily.
 

She studied him curiously, looking at the dazed and beaming expression on his face. “What are you so moony about?”
 

He continued to smile. “I’m drunk on you, I think. You’re _yummy_.”
 

Spike lapped again at her breast, the twin drops of blood that had slowly welled up to close over the wound.
 

Willow raised her eyebrows, not sure if that was a good thing. “Uh, yay me?”
 

He raised his head, looking at her with a content smile. “You taste good, too.”
 

“Oh,” she answered shyly.
 

He began to stroke her stomach lightly.
 

“Your exams are all over now, aren’t they?”
 

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured, distracted by his cool touch.
 

“And Slutty’s over at the soldier’s?”
 

“Uh-huh …”
 

“Then … I wonder … if you’re yummy all over …”
 

His cool tongue touched against her clit and she felt a flood of wet heat between her thighs.
 

“Oh Goddess …”
 

End
 

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