Series: Lovers Times Two 12
Rating: NC-17 (BDSM warning)
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Spike looked at his witch. Things had been going well since the Slayer had moved in. Soon, though it bothered him to think about it, Willow and he could move on. They could have the sort of privacy they needed.
It twinged slightly that the situation would mean no more Dawn clattering through the house, whinging on about homework, boys or the unfairness of the universe where grades were concerned. No more conspiracies over breakfast foods and sneaking treats. Bollocks, he was going to miss that bossy bit of goods. 'Not,' he thought, 'that I would ever admit that to her.' But he would- miss her that was.
He glanced back over at the redhead. Time for them to disappear again. She stood at the island, teary-eyed, looking at brochures for flats. His witch definitely needed cheering up and he didn't think a trip upstairs was going to do it. He knew it wouldn't be enough for him.
"Pet."
"Yes, Spike?" Her tone was preoccupied.
'Can't have that now, can we?' he thought.
"What time's Slutty supposed to be back?"
"Buffy," she emphasized, "should be back in about an hour. Her appointment was for one, and it's quarter past now."
"Pet."
"Yes, Spike." Her eyes never left the brochures.
Spike pulled himself up, no longer leaning idolently on the counter.
"Girl, look at me!"
Emerald eyes shot up to meet piercing blue ones. Her stance changed immediately. Her back straightened, her shoulders went back and her head dropped respectfully. Her pose was subservient and bloody gorgeous.
"Yes Sir." Her voice quavered with anticipation.
"Downstairs, Girl. Now." The vampire smirked as Willow headed for the stairs. He strolled leisurely behind her, enjoying the view. Her gait was always so much more beautiful when she had given him total control. 'That's why she's so much better than the Slayer,' he thought, 'the bloody Slayer would never allow herself to give control over to *anyone*, much less a chipless vampire.'
##
Buffy strode into the kitchen. Her appointment had been cancelled and now it looked like Will had gone out. Spike's vampiric butt was, no doubt, dead to the world, upstairs. She smirked, 'Even when I'm just thinking, I got it.'
The house was silent, a rare occurence these days. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet. Opening the refrigerator, she took out the orange juice and began to pour. And then she heard it.
It was the faint sound of something hitting something. And, it came from the ... she stretched her senses ... the basement. As she listened she heard a gutteral moan. Stealthily, she opened the basement door. 'It wouldn't do to let whomever, or whatever, know I'm here,' she thought.
She heard it again, clearer this time. It sounded like ...she didn't know what it sounded like, but she knew it didn't belong in her basement. The moan repeated. It sounded like ... oh God, it was Willow. She raced quietly down the stairs, automatically avoiding the one that creaked. The main room was empty. She looked around but saw nothing out of place. Ah Ha, her eye lit on the room that Spike kept locked.
When she'd asked about it, she had been told his personal stuff was in there and to keep her nose out unless, he'd offered hopefully, 'she'd like her nose with a decorative bend in it.' She'd been curious, but had Slayerfully ignored the room.
Now, she couldn't, it was obvious something had Willow in there. Whatever it was, it was hurting her friend. She was tormented by Willow's pitiful moans.
She threw open the door and froze.
Spike and Willow were ... and there was ... and THIS was Spike's personal stuff. Spike's head swiveled to meet her gaze, his blue eyes shifting to gold.
"Get out and stay out. Or come in and play. Don't just stand there staring."
"But, Willow ... " she gaped.
The witch in question moaned as she dove down, taking more of Spike's impressive cock into her throat. Spike smiled, one hand threaded through Willow's red mane. The other slapped her upper shoulders with the end of the leather leash, fastened to the collar around her neck.
Buffy started into the room, halting when the vampire growled at her.
"Go the bleedin' hell away, Slayer. We'll explain later." His attention returned to Willow. He caressed her soft cheek, before striking her with the leash again.
"Maybe ... "
Buffy slowly pulled the door closed and retreated up the stairs. She walked through the kitchen and directly to the bar. She didn't bother with a glass, just drank the single-malt scotch straight from the bottle.