Rating: NC-17 for sex
Pairing: Willow/Spike
Distribution: You're welcome to it, just let me know you're taking it
Disclaimer: All the goodness is of Joss and all the badness is from me :-)
Summary: Sequel to Something Different. More Willow/Spike smuttiness. A sexual encounter doesn't go quite as expected for either of them.
Feedback, pretty please :-)
A/N: A big thanks to Gabrielle and Femail for their betas and their friendship.
Another note: I know I haven't posted any of this series for a while, so if you want to refresh your memory or catch up, you can find the other parts at my website: http://www.geocities.com/kallierose01/p-and-p_index.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was another warm, sunny evening in Sunnydale, California, and as usual, Willow was on her way from school to the Magic Box. Giles had called a meeting, something about a new demon roaming the town, snacking on students and teachers and other miscellaneous people.
While some of the teachers could be rigid and unyielding, especially when they were in the wrong, the students certainly didn't deserve to be part of an all-you-can-eat buffet for whatever demon came their way.
Willow acknowledged sadly that she still held a slight grudge against Mr. Johnson, the so-called teacher of her Myths and Legends class. The man knew *nothing* about what he taught, and his misconceptions about Wicca and demonology were nothing short of dangerous. Hell, Giles could teach the class better than that dried up little prune of a man, she thought with a snort of annoyance.
With a deep, hopefully cleansing sigh, Willow opened the door to the Magic Box and entered her second home. Giles was behind the counter with Anya, ringing up the purchase of a New Age-y looking woman wearing clothes that were two sizes too small and about twenty years too young for her. As Willow watched, she patted Giles on the cheek in a manner that was apparently supposed to be seductive, and then pulled him over to whisper something in his ear. Whatever was said must have been of a sexual nature, because Giles immediately turned beet red and began to stammer nervously.
In an attempt to save her mentor from what looked to be a fate worse than death, Willow began to walk towards the counter, but was stopped in her tracks when a long, pale arm grabbed hers and pulled her forcefully into the storage room. She turned to give someone a piece of her mind, but her unformed words died in her throat as her eyes met Spike's.
He pulled her further into the room, until her body rested against his, which was lounging comfortably against the shelves of, her eyes widened slightly, goat testicles. Eew, who came up with the idea of using these things?
"Got something for ya," he told her, a knowing smirk on his face. Yes, he sure did, she thought, feeling the bulge of his cock locked tight beneath the denim of his jeans.
No, no, no. Not now. Giles and Anya were in the other room, and Xander and Buffy were due to be there at any minute. Not to mention the fact that a customer could come in and happen upon them.
"Later. Tonight," she whispered, her voice sounding weak and unconvincing, even to her.
"Nah, s'not that," he said, his smirk curving into a full-blown grin. "You've got a one-track mind, you do."
"I-you-what are you talking about then?"
"Follow me." He moved out of the storage area and into the store. A savage grin took his face as he saw the Watcher fending off the advances of the unfortunately dressed woman, but he passed them without comment. Willow followed curiously in his wake. He led her down the stairs to the lower level of the store, the area that was used as Buffy's training area.
Although this was a much more private area of the store, Willow still didn't think it was wise to do what she thought Spike wanted to do. Eventually someone would come looking for them, and when they didâ?¦. well, she didn't want to think about that.
Spike watched her as she considered her situation, that smirk that she was beginning to hate still on his face. He sauntered casually towards her using what Willow thought of as his 'predator' stride, his face calm, but his body taut and ready for action. As he continued to move into her personal space, she took a hurried step backwards, and then another. Soon her back was flush against the wall, and his hard body was rubbing sensuously against hers.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the mixture of aromas around him. The lingering smell of perspiration from training sessions gone by mixed with what Willow was giving off, and the combination was a pleasant one. She was a little nervous, he noted happily. It amazed him how something as simple as her scent never failed to arouse him. "Here," he said huskily as he stepped back for a moment, pulling something pink out of his pants pocket and putting it in her hand.
She looked curiously at the object he gave her. Objects? There were two silicone pink balls, about an inch in diameter, connected by a thin nylon cord. As the balls moved in her hand, she felt something inside them, and surmised that there were smaller balls inside, maybe metal, judging by the feel of them.
"They go inside you," he explained, leaning in close again, rubbing his body up against hers in a purely sexual manner. "Then when you move, they move. It can be quiteâ?¦stimulating."
She considered it, wondering exactly how much stimulation they could create. The balls were small enough that she could probably use them without anyone being the wiser. It felt dirty, and yet sexy at the same time, and without giving it much thought, she decided to do it.
Buffy's voice floated down the stairway, and Willow knew that Xander probably wasn't far behind. If she was going agree to this, it would have to be now. "Okay," she decided, her breath catching in her throat as she gave her approval.
Spike smiled down at her, his tongue sneaking out to lick his lips, as he grabbed the spheres from her hand. "I get to put them in," he told her, watching as a delicate blush colored her features and she looked away from him, her gaze riveted on something in the distance.
She nodded nervously, giving up any pretense at reluctance as she allowed him to push her legs apart with one of his. He knelt down before her, pulling her flowing skirt up and centering himself between her legs, before letting the skirt fall back down like a tent around his body.
As she felt the cool sensation of his hands gliding their way up her inner thighs she shivered, stifling a gasp as she felt them reach her underwear. She was already wet; he always did that to her. He never failed to make her feel deliciously wanton and yet dirty at the same time.
He dragged the underwear down as much as her spread legs would allow, and she felt the elastic dig into the sides of her lower thighs. She concentrated on that sensation for a moment, and then bit back a moan as she felt his fingers open her sex, one of his long fingers gliding smoothly inside.
She instinctively stood on her tiptoes in an effort to escape the invading digit, but he just followed her movements upward, teasing and brushing against the walls of her pussy. After a minute of this sweet torture he withdrew his finger, wiping her juices on the inside of her thigh, and then licking them off with his rough tongue, blunt teeth nipping lightly at her skin. She could do nothing to hide the resulting moan, and a knowing chuckle reached her ears, making Willow blush again at how easily he managed to play her.
He always seemed to know exactly which buttons to push, both sexually and emotionally, and it was all so very one-sided. Why couldn't *she* ever be the one in control? Then again, how could she expect to control him, when she couldn't even keep a handle on her own needs and emotions?
She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning again as he slid the first ball in, feeling her lips close greedily around it. Without too much teasing, he slid the second in as well, using his finger to push around and make sure they were secure. Suddenly she felt quite full and was a little surprised that something that had seemed so small when it sat in her hand could fill her so completely when it was inside of her.
Spike came to his feet, lowering her skirt down again, leaving her looking exactly as she had five minutes ago. Nobody would ever know what she had inside of her, she realized. She gave him a quizzical look, and then took a couple of tentative steps, concentrating on the feel of the balls inside of her.
It was nice, she decided. There was a definite sensation, but it was pleasant. Kind of like the warm buzzing of a vibrator set on its lowest setting, maybe. Pleasant, but not overwhelming.
She could feel Spike's eyes on her as she continued to test the sensations, swinging her hips a bit to see how that would feel, and then jumping up and down lightly to give that a try. The sensations varied as she tried different things, but what turned her on the most was the fact that she could keep this secret from the others, while teasing herself slowly, without them ever having the slightest idea.
Another demon or vampire would be able to figure it out. She probably reeked of sex so strongly that she would be like a smutty beacon, sending her smutty signal all over Sunnydale. But since she wasn't planning on being around any vampires other than Spike that probably wasn't going to be a problem.
A look of sudden distraction crossed Spike's face, and a second later she heard Buffy's voice as her friend took the stairs two at a time, scrambling down to the training room.
"Hey Willow," she called, her surprise showing as she realized that Willow wasn't alone. "Oh, hey," she added, throwing the greeting in Spike's direction. She looked back between the two of them curiously.
"Hi Buffy," Willow replied, trying not to look nervous and failing miserably.
"Thought I might show Willow some of my moves," Spike explained, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against and coming to stand next to the redhead.
She didn't look like she believed a word of it as she watched the two of them together, Spike looking calm and emotionless while Willow seemed on edge, shifting nervously from foot to foot. But Buffy was in a hurry, so she didn't press it. "Well do it quick," she ordered, turning and heading for the stairs again. "Giles looks like he's getting into 'meeting mode' and you know how he hates any tiny interruption when he's trying to be in-charge man."
"We're right behind you," Willow called, listening with relief as she heard Buffy's footsteps fade away.
As she headed for the stairs, a new sensation crept into her awareness, and she stopped for a moment as she tried to figure it out. It was a slightly warm feeling inside her, more than just the excitement of the situation would warrant.
The longer she concentrated on it, the stronger it seemed to get, and she began to panic. Something was wrong, and she didn't know what. Her eyes sought out Spike's, only to see another one of those damn smirks on his face. "What did you do to me?" she hissed, anger flashing as she advanced on him.
He laughed at her then, a throaty chuckle that made her clench her hands into fists, her sharp nails cutting half-moons into the skin of her palms. "It's just a little cinnamon oil, pet. It'll warm you up and keep you payin' attention, but it won't harm you. It'll just make thingsâ?¦interesting."
"Interesting? What the hell do you mean? You, you-," she ran words through her mind, trying desperately to find one that would describe the level of anger she felt towards him at that moment and coming up empty. "Creep!" she muttered, pulling at her skirt in an attempt to push it down and take the balls out herself.
He came at her then, his eyes hard and cold, as he pushed her back up against the wall. "Not until I give you permission, pet. You'll leave those in there, and you'll shut your pretty little mouth about it, until I take them out myself and shove my cock in there to cool you down." He grabbed her scrambling hands, holding them high above her head. She continued to squirm against him, but he pushed back against her, pinning her body against the wall as securely as if he had tied her there, forcing her to submit to him.
"Are we understood?" he asked, his voice quiet but filled with an intensity that made her feel nervous and hunted.
She said nothing for a moment, her eyes flashing with anger and discomfort as the sensation of the cinnamon oil gradually became even stronger. "Fine," she spat the words at him, earning herself another amused smile from the vampire.
"Good, then get your sweet little ass upstairs before someone else comes down looking for us," he commanded, releasing her wrists and stepping back, allowing her to pass by him. He gave her ass a hard swat as she passed, and grinned again at her swift intake of breath.
~Part: 2~
Willow walked up the stairway slowly, noting the feel of the balls within her as she moved her pelvis. This was a different kind of motion than what she had used earlier, and it seemed to create a stronger sensation. She felt her temperature begin to rise again, and this time it had nothing to do with the cinnamon oil. Her teeth held her tongue immobile as she attempted to ignore the sensations and the little sparks of lust that simmered between her legs.
And then there was the heat, the burning, itching heat of the oil. 'It'll warm you up,' Spike had said. BASTARD, her mind screamed. It was doing more than warming her up; it was making her almost insensible.
All she wanted to do was rip off her clothes and sink into a warm, cool bath. Or, and she hated to admit this, have him push deep inside her and wipe all of this away.
Finally she reached the top of the stairway, stopping to look into the shop. As the balls settled and stilled, she took a quick breath of relief. As long as she didn't move things seemed to be okay.
As long as the burning and itching didn't get any worse, of course.
"Get a move on, pet," Spike grumbled from behind her, nudging her with his knee. She turned and shot him a venomous look, itching to scratch that smile off of his face, and took a small step into the room, trying to decide what to do next.
Giles had just finished putting up the 'closed' sign, and was coming back into the rear part of the shop, where the others gathered around the wooden table, curiosity painted on their faces.
Anya sat on Xander's lap, distractedly winding a lock of his brown hair around her long fingers. The boy seemed oblivious, his gaze fixed on Buffy, who was painting her nails a particularly obnoxious shade of pink.
The boy had the hots for the Slayer, Spike was pretty sure. He knew that there had been talk about it back in the days when she was with Angel, but let's face it, the whelp never stood a chance up against the great broody one.
He wondered if Anya knew. The woman seemed relatively comfortable in her relationship, yet he suspected she knew more than she let on. Maybe she didn't care for him quite as much as she pretended. With those ex-demon types it was always hard to tell. Even though they were human once again, they always seemed to hold back a small piece of who they were, never really trusting anybody except themselves. He knew she had seen enough of the world and the nature of humans that she probably thought that was the best course. He couldn't disagree with her.
"Come on, Willow, don't dilly-dally," Giles insisted, watching with a frown as Willow moved to a chair and sank slowly onto it. She seemed distracted, which was completely unlike her.
"Are you quite all right?" he asked, taking in the way she sat cautiously on the chair, as if afraid to put all of her weight on it.
'Oh shit, oh shit, I'm trapped,' she thought. What the heck was she supposed to say now?
"Did Spike do something to you downstairs?" Buffy asked curiously, her manicure forgotten for the moment. "Because if he did, I bet Giles would let me stake him," she added hopefully, looking around the shop for something sharp and wooden.
Willow began to shiver, despite the heated distraction between her legs. "I-no-what do you mean?" she squeaked nervously, her eyes darting from Buffy to Giles and back.
"She means," Spike drawled as he came to stand behind her chair, "did the big bad vampire hurt you when he was showing you those self-defense moves." He rested his hands on the back of her chair, his thumbs brushing calmingly on the backs of her shoulder blades. Nobody else could see the gesture but Willow felt it, and immediately relaxed into it, just a bit.
"Oh, well, yeah, there was a bit of an incident," she muttered, her face flushing red. "But I'm okay Giles. I just need to be careful."
"You're quite sure?" he asked, his eyes willing hers to meet them as he took her measure.
"She said she's fine," Spike growled, tired of this discussion. He had other things, and people, to do, and wanted this meeting to be over so he could take the witch somewhere quiet and fuck her until her screams rang in his ears and were all he could hear.
One last glance at Willow, who nodded in agreement, and Giles motioned Spike towards the chair next to Willow, waiting for him to sit.
"So why are we here, Giles?" Buffy asked curiously. She had been hoping for a quiet evening with her mother; no apocalypse had been seen on the horizon, and usually that meant a light night of patrolling and then a trip home.
"Oh, well--" he stuttered. He had planned on leading up to this. A little background, a little history, a couple of minutes to work through the details. But no, these youngsters always wanted to 'get to the point' and convention be damned. "I suspect that there is another vampire in Sunnydale," he sputtered.
"Well duh," Buffy agreed, giving him an odd look. "I mean, there's generally a new one every night, right guys? That's why I do the patrols and the-" she made a motion with her hand, pantomiming the staking of a vampire and the explosion of dust.
"Yes, quite," Giles muttered, looking extremely English and also a little put out. "If you would give me a moment to tell you why I think this is important." he trailed off. Looking around at the assembled faces, he continued. "I was doing some local research, nothing in particular, just passing the time. I came across a death in the paper that looked suspicious, and then another similar one a couple of days later, and it started me thinking. I went down to the library and pulled some back issues of the paper, and a pattern emerged."
He had them now, Giles saw. Although Willow still seemed off. She was squirming in the chair as if uncomfortable and he was finding the movement rather distracting.
"So what is this pattern," Buffy asked, her attention fully on Giles now.
"Well, if taken one by one, the deaths don't seem terribly unusual. Just the hellmouth at work. But the way that these people were killed seemed odd. Some of them had simple ripped out throats," he paused for a reaction, feeling a little smug when Xander turned slightly green around the gills. "But from the reports it sounds like the others were drained of blood or exhibited twin puncture wounds in various parts of their anatomy. Words like 'tragic forking accident' and 'local pack of wild dogs' are spread liberally throughout the reports."
"Classic vamp M.O.," Buffy agreed.
"Exactly!" Giles exclaimed excitedly, warming to the subject. "The odd thing is, this vampire isn't keeping to one particular neighborhood, he's feeding all over the city, and even in the next town over. And he's being very careful to cover his tracks."
Spike felt a sinking feeling as he listened to the words. He *had* been very careful to keep his feedings from being detected. The urge to kill and wreak havoc had been strong, but he had done his best to keep his kills quiet and unspectacular, even traveling outside of city limits on occasion to vary his pattern.
And the bloody Watcher with his bloody soddin' research had brought his actions to light in spite of his precautions. "So why do you think this is just one vampire, instead of a couple of fledges?"
"Because," Giles said, turning to look at Spike, "whoever this is has taken great care to mask his kills. Fledglings wouldn't do such a thing. They revel in the fear that their attacks cause. In point of fact," he added, "the only type of creature I can think of who would do something like this would be a master vampire who was trying to lay low and stay out of the spotlight."
Was there an accusation in those words, Spike wondered? He eyed the other man, contemplating his motivations.
"Well I haven't heard anything," Spike told him, relieved to notice that Giles didn't seem to be accusing him, merely seeking information.
"So that means a slaying party is in order, right?" Xander asked, eager to get out, slay, and go home. Anya had whispered earlier that she had bought some new lingerie, and he was eager to see exactly what she had come up with. Her purchases lately had leaned towards the leather and the crotchless variety, and he had high hopes for the evening.
As long as Giles and his new pet master vampire theory didn't keep him out all night, that is.
"Giles and I will take the north part of town," Buffy said, Slayer mode showing clearly in her tone of voice and stance. "Xander and Anya, you take the middle of town, and Spike and Willow, you take the south part of town. If you're up to it, Wills?" she asked, shooting the redhead a questioning look.
Willow looked back at her friend and gave her a quick nod, trying to look like she was in complete control of her body and her faculties, when nothing could be farther from the truth. The fire that burned between her legs had her so frustrated and distracted that she could barely sit still, much less think logically.
She had listened to Giles diligently, but even now, just minutes later, all she could remember were the words 'master vampire' and 'forking incident.' And the only reason she remembered the latter comment was because it had struck her as so damn funny. Well, that and the fact that the word 'forking' had a certain similarity to the word 'fucking' which was what she desperately wanted to be doing right now.
Her need for relief was so strong that she could barely keep her mind clear. What she really wanted to do was rip off her panties and pull those damned balls out, and force Spike's tongue inside of her until all she could feel was something cool and soothing. She cast a look at the vampire, but he seemed to be ignoring her, his gaze distracted, as if something was bothering him.
Buffy and the others were getting ready to go, so Willow stood up and moved to join them. That movement set the previously still balls into motion again, and Willow bit back another moan at the sensations she began to feel between her legs. The little balls inside of the larger balls began to move back and forth, forcing one of the balls to rub up against her g-spot just a bit, and taking the breath from her chest again.
"Ready, pet?" Spike asked. Noting her distraction, he simply walked by her, knowing that she would follow him quickly in hopes that he would provide her with some relief soon. The thought brought a smile to his lips, as he considered the proper place for their rendezvous. The south part of town held mostly industrial buildings and offices, and at this time of night they would be mostly deserted. He would play it by ear, stopping her when he felt her reach her breaking point. It might be interesting to see how long she could hold it together.
Willow raced to catch up with him, her shorter legs having to work twice as fast to keep up with the vampire as they headed south. He seemed to be setting a quick pace, which she appreciated, but she wished he would slow down just a little bit, so that she could catch her breath. Then again, while she was moving quickly and concentrating only on keeping up with him, it seemed like the fire raging between her legs abated somewhat. Or maybe she just wasn't paying as much attention to it. Either way, it was a bit of a relief.
After walking at break-neck speed for over ten minutes, Spike stopped suddenly, and then moved silently to stand behind a small group of trees, his finger to his lips as he pulled Willow to a stop with a hand on her upper arm. She stood next to him, her eyes roaming the parking lot before them in an attempt to see what had caused Spike to stop so quickly.
"Vampires," he whispered, his lips next to her ear.
Soon she saw them, three fledglings who looked like they were barely out of their graves. Their movements were unsteady and uncoordinated; if it came to a fight, Spike could probably take them without too much trouble. With any luck they would simply pass on by and a confrontation wouldn't even be necessary.
Ordinarily, if their numbers had been a bit more even, Spike might have engaged them in battle. It would have been quick work, but a bit of violence was always satisfying. However, he had a redhead to shag, and he wasn't interested in sharing.
Willow watched the vampires make their way across the parking lot, cursing her awful luck. All she wanted right now was to have those damn balls out of her, and Spike's cock sheathed deep within her. But no, vampires had to show up. Damn vampires were always ruining her fun.
When fledges stopped suddenly, sniffing the air in confusion and then smiling in satisfaction, Willow became nervous. And when three pairs of inhuman eyes changed course and stared directly at her, panic clutched her heart in a vise grip.
"Fuck, it's that damned cinnamon oil," Spike swore softly. "You smell like the vampire equivalent of catnip. Should have just doubled back and snuck you into the training room. Could have fucked for hours there and the Watcher never would have known."
Having already come to that exact same conclusion, Willow started to panic. Sex with one vampire was nice, as long as that vampire was Spike. Well, maybe 'nice' wasn't exactly the word she was looking for, but it would do. But sex with three fledgling vampires who would probably kill her in the process was something that made her limbs limp and her wits numb with terror.
Her brain raced with possibilities and plans, discarding each one as its flaws became evident. Running away was usually a safe bet, but these vampires were fast, even though they were uncoordinated. Staying and fighting was their best option, but it wasn't a particularly good one.
Spike had already come to the same conclusion. Reaching up to one of the low tree branches, he broke off a limb and handed it to Willow. He repeated the process several times, until she had a half-dozen improvised stakes, in addition to the two that Willow carried in her purse.
She pulled them out nervously, watching with dismay as half the contents of her purse scattered to the ground below her. "Leave it for later," Spike muttered under his breath when she looked like she might try to gather it together. "Concentrate."
Space would work to their advantage, he decided, so he shot out of the trees and ran towards the middle of the empty parking lot, pulling Willow along behind him. The other vampires saw this and changed their course accordingly. They would be upon their prey in a matter of seconds, and Spike put Willow behind him as he faced them.
The fledglings were smarter than they looked; as Spike watched, the three spread out and formed a triangle around the two of them, their eyes riveted on Willow. He could feel her trembling behind him, trying futilely to mask her terror. Her efforts were inadequate; every vamp in the neighborhood could probably smell her fear. After these three were dust they would have to move quickly to make sure that nobody else came upon them. Fortunately there were no cemeteries in this part of town, so vampire activity was fairly low.
"Such a pretty little morsel," one of the fledglings called out, his fangs making the words distorted. He wore an old high school letterman's jacket, and Willow wondered if he had been one of her classmates. He didn't look familiar, but it was kind of hard to tell when a vamp was all ridges and fangs. They were all in game face, mouths slobbering in their excitement. "I don't suppose you'd like to share with us?" These words were directed to Spike, who merely growled and shook his head, shooting the vampire a look that was full of menace.
"Oh well, we can always use a little practice," he replied. "Right boys?" The others nodded back eagerly, clearly thinking that the posturing was a waste of time. They smelled fear and sex oozing from the redhead and were eager to get their fill.
"Right, then, let's get this started," Spike said. He spun them around a bit so that he now faced the two vampires, and Willow only had the one to deal with. She would still have to deal with that one, but at least he could improve the odds against her somewhat.
The talkative fledgling lunged at her, a quick move forward and then back, more a test of her reflexes than anything. She darted backwards as her eyes looked for an opening, for some way to slow him down. The letterman jacket was leather, and she knew from experience that she would have to punch extra hard to get the stake through that and into his heart.
They circled each other uneasily, testing the other's abilities. The fledge would attack suddenly, and she would jump back, just in time to escape his grasping hands. His hand disappeared into a pocket, and when it reappeared something shiny was in its grasp. A knife. It was only the size of a pocketknife, but Willow knew that it could do some damage.
"Knife, Spike. Knife!" Terror made her unable to form complete sentences, but the words were clear enough.
"Just hold him off a bit longer. You're doing fine." The words were said calmly and reassuringly, and a small measure of confidence returned to her. She risked a quick look back at Spike. He had already managed to dust one of his opponents, and had the second in a headlock.
A sudden noise to her left brought her attention back to her attacker, but it was too late. With a sudden move forward, knife in hand, he slashed at her forearm, drawing blood and a soft scream. A feral smile covered his face, his nostrils flaring as the scent of her blood hit them.
Willow was in shock, staring dumbly at the sharp slash on her arm. Blood began to well up from the stinging cut as she watched. Noting her preoccupation, the demon pushed her down to the ground easily, and even as she tried belatedly to wriggle away, he was on her, straddling her hips, his face staring down at hers as he brought the knife to her throat.
"Stay still and this will only hurt a bit. Struggle against me, and I will use this," he promised her, waving the knife threateningly in front of her wide eyes. She stilled her movements immediately, watching in horror as he laid the blade of the knife lightly against her cheek.
And then he was gone, and a shower of dust rained down on her.
Spike was at her side instantly, his arm grabbing hers as he examined the cut carefully. It was about two inches long, but not terribly deep. The blood oozed slowly from it, and he bent down and ran his tongue over the length of it. "Clotting properties. It'll make you stop bleeding faster," he told her when her eyes accused him of taking advantage of the free food. "Tastes vile," he insisted. "That other moron's dust is all over it. Believe me, I'm not enjoying this any more than you are."
"Good," she muttered, her eyes becoming glassy with shock. "'Cuz I'm not enjoying it at all."
"Sorry, pet."
The strange thing was, she believed him. He really wasn't getting any enjoyment out of this. It certainly wasn't how they had planned to spend the evening, she thought bitterly.
That reminder brought her thoughts back to the balls that were still within her, and the throbbing between her legs. The feeling of the cinnamon oil had dissipated somewhat. Perhaps it wasn't meant to last much longer than a half an hour, she thought. The whole experience had been meant to be fun and slightly naughty, but now she just felt tired and weak. Their 'fun' had almost gotten them hurt, or worse.
Spike must have sensed the direction her thoughts had taken. His fingers delved under her skirt once again, pulling her underwear down roughly to gain access to her sex. He pulled the balls out, not gently, but quickly. There was nothing teasing or sensual about it at all, and even though it was silly, she still felt slightly disappointed. She had been a good girl, damn it, and after all of that she thought she deserved at least a bit of a reward.
"Gotta get these away from you before someone else decides you smell good," he told her. Grasping the pink balls in his fist, he stood and hurled them as far away as he could, watching until they disappeared from view. Hopefully that would confuse anyone else who had caught her scent.
"C'mon, let's get you back to the shop," he said quietly, pulling her to her feet, his hand on her uninjured forearm. "Get you bandaged up and all that. You okay to walk? I can carry you if you want."
This was a different Spike, she thought with surprise. He was still practical and commanding, but there was a bit of softness to his voice now, a hint of a genuine emotion. Certainly he had expressed emotions before, but usually they were of the sexual variety: frustration, lust, passion, need. This seemed to be something else entirely. She had sensed shades of gentleness, maybe even affection in his voice. It was more than a little disconcerting, not to mention confusing.
"I'm okay. Thanks, Spike," she said softly. They began to walk back to the Magic Box, their pace slightly slower now than it had been earlier. Spike glanced over at her every couple of seconds, just to make sure that she was okay. She chanced a look at his face, not surprised to see that he seemed to be bothered or preoccupied by something.
She had to agree. It had been a troubling night all around.
The End
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