Rating: NC-17 for sex, including kink, and all-around naughtiness
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 Deeper Thoughts, Darker Thoughts. More Willow/Spike smuttiness. Spike teaches Willow a lesson.
Feedback, pretty please :-)
Big thanks to Feen and Knightie for the beta - you guys do such wonderful work. I also wanted to thank everyone who's given me feedback for this story - you guys are the ones that make me keep writing more parts to this :-)
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It had been over a week since she had seen more than a glimpse of Spike, and Willow was beginning to wonder if she had done something to annoy him. Even during the nightly research sessions he was nowhere to be found. Occasionally he'd jet into the Magic Box while she was there, but he would rarely say a word to her, only give her that cocky smirk of his, before heading out and tending to 'other business.'
None of the others seemed inclined to say anything about his absence, simply grateful for a break from his annoying presence. But because of their extra-curricular activities, Willow took his absence a bit more personally, of course. It would be just her luck if she finally decided to let go and enjoy what they did, only to have Spike lose interest.
The more she thought about it, the more she decided that that was the
way her life usually worked, so why would this be any different?
Willow sighed with boredom, stretching out on the couch and reaching for the remote to switching off the TV. The house was quiet now; only the sound of the occasional car passing interrupted the silence. Buffy was still out patrolling and Dawn was spending the night with a friend. She wasn't sure where Buffy's mother was, but she knew that Mrs. Summers was gone for the evening.
She wanted to call Spike; make up some feeble excuse to get him over here and then let him take it from there. But girls like Buffy called guys and invited them over; girls like Willow stayed home alone and watched TV or read a book. That was just the way it was.
Then again, girls like Buffy tended to be involved in tragic romances and die young at the hands of vampires and demons, so maybe she *had* gotten the better end of the deal. Besides, as far as she could tell, Spike didn't seem to have the slightest interest in her these days.
The clock struck ten, the loud chime startling in the quiet of the late
evening. Well, she could go to bed now and try to get some sleep.
Although a full eight hours of sleep might just send her body into shock,
she thought with a quiet giggle.
She had tried to sleep, she really had, but after over an hour with little or no progress, Willow finally came to the realization that it was just not going to happen. Every time she closed her eyes, they popped open. Every time she tried to relax, her ears would catch a sound and her senses would go into overdrive. She was just about to get up and go back downstairs, when she heard a soft knock on her door, and the whispered word, "Pet?"
"Ummm-hmm," she answered quietly, her eyes taking in the blond in the doorway. He looked scrumptious as always, his black pants and red shirt emphasizing his pale complexion. "How did you get in?"
"Evil vampire and all that. I've got my ways," he answered with a smirk. "Now close your eyes like a good little girl," he added as he began to stalk towards the bed.
Willow responded eagerly, doing exactly what Spike had requested. She had been waiting for him, for this, for over a week. There was no point in protesting or making small talk now.
He watched her for a moment through hooded eyes. She was lovely; her tousled hair painted the white pillowcase a coppery red, a perfect frame for her pale, delicate face. While she waited for him to make the next move, the beginnings of a frown formed on her lips.
'Quit wasting time, you bloody git,' Spike told himself, dragging his eyes from her face to her small hands. He walked to the head of the bed, taking one of her pliant wrists and quickly tying it to the headboard with a scarf.
He had expected some sort of a reaction from the redhead when he did that, but she stayed perfectly still, eyes still closed. "What a good pet," he said affectionately, as he crossed to the other side of the bed, tying her other wrist to the headboard as well.
Her eyes stayed closed, even when he threw the bedding back and away from her body, leaving her naked beneath his hungry gaze. Spike sucked in a silent breath, amazed again at her simple beauty. At the same time, the demon clamored within. The sight of her, submissive, spread out before him like an offering, was making him harder than he could remember being in a long time.
"Not big on nightgowns anymore?" he asked teasingly.
She blushed enticingly, the delicate rose color suffusing her body. "You never know when it might become an…inconvenience," she admitted softly. "Spike?"
"Yes, pet?"
"Um, no biting, okay?" Willow said the words in a nervous rush, unsure what kind of a reaction she would receive. At that moment, there was no reaction but silence. She thought about opening her eyes to see what he was doing, but mindful of her instructions, she kept them closed. "It's just that, well, Buffy would start to wonder if I had bite marks, and it's kind of hard to hide them from her, living together and all, and I don’t want her to think that…" she trailed off uneasily, waiting for some sort of response.
Spike's demon raged within him, demanding that he show her who was in charge here. He fought to keep his more impulsive side in check, glad that her eyes were still closed. If she could have seen the anger in his eyes at that moment, then she would surely have screamed bloody murder.
Finally he brought his demon under control. Affecting a slightly rebuking voice, he spoke at last. "A girl bound to the bed isn't in much of a position to be making demands," he reminded her.
Willow frowned. She didn't like the subtle reminder of her vulnerability. "It's just that sooner or later someone is going to see the bites, and I don't quite know how I could explain it. I mean, I could always tell Buffy that I was a victim of some random vamp attack, but I don't think she'd buy that. Because, well, random vamp attacks would tend to leave me dead and all."
Silence awaited her explanation. "Okay," Spike finally replied, his voice devoid of expression.
Although his two-syllable word certainly wasn't a promise, Willow chose to interpret it as such, and her body relaxed slightly against the bed.
"Can I open my eyes now?" she asked timidly.
"If you like," he said, his voice cold.
'Oh great,' she thought. 'He's going to be pissy all night because I asked him not to bite me. Just what I need.'
As she opened her eyes, Spike climbed onto the bed. He sat between her legs, inspecting the auburn curls at the apex of her thighs with such seriousness. Willow watched his face curiously as he trailed a finger down the length of her slit, her body beginning to tingle as he teased her folds with his nimble fingers. He seemed so engrossed in what he was doing that Willow wondered if he even realized that she was still in the room.
She moaned quietly as he continued to play with her body; stroking her one minute, unexpectedly plunging a finger deep inside her the next. The unpredictable nature of his assaults left her on edge and slightly nervous.
"Close your eyes, lay back, and relax," came the command, and she hastened to obey, losing herself in the feelings he provoked.
Spike changed his tactics, his fingers going from unpredictable attacks to slow, sensuous movements. Two fingers glided inside her, exploring her, widening her, stroking her walls. She felt her orgasm begin, the tension building to a peak before exploding outward.
"Spike!" the words left her lips in a strangled cry as her body writhed on the bed. She felt a hand on her stomach stilling her movements, as his fingers continued to work inside her.
He kept stroking his fingers into her in long, deep movements, gliding against her overly sensitive tissues. And then, slowly, as he continued to touch her, she felt the discomfort fade away, and another orgasm begin to build.
Before long she came again, this release smaller and gentler, but no less pleasurable.
Willow waited for Spike to stop his movements, but just like last time, he kept his fingers deep within her, working her towards yet another release.
"Spike?"
"Yes, pet?"
"Please, no more teasing. I need you inside me," she insisted, her body squirming on the bed in a vain attempt to escape his manipulations.
"What?" He asked mockingly, his fingers coming to a stop within her. "Are you tired already? Want to end this so soon? Last time you were upset because I wouldn't let you come. This time, you're upset because I'm making you come. Such a contrary creature you are," he teased.
Sudden understanding flared behind her closed eyes. This was her
punishment for their rendezvous in the park. He would make her cum
until her until she could stand it no more, his way of punishing her for
complaining about not being able to cum. There was nothing to do
except enjoy herself until he got bored with his little game.
"Tired, Spike," she whimpered, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. It had been hours since he had started his attack on her body and she had cum so many times now that she had lost count. The initially pleasurable orgasms had eventually become colored with pain, as the muscles in her arms and legs cramped in discomfort. Now, every movement of her tired and aching body brought forth fresh protests from her spasming muscles, and she had decided that she was no longer too stubborn to beg him to stop.
"I know," he whispered back, smiling down at her helpless form, watching her body tense as it prepared for yet another orgasm.
"Please?" she asked, her green eyes focused beseechingly on his crystal blue ones.
Spike stopped, pretending to give the matter some thought. "All right," he finally said, "But only because you've been such a good pet tonight. You've learned your lesson, yes?"
"Yes, Spike," Willow agreed breathlessly, wanting nothing else but to sleep for about a week. A soft sigh of relief left her slightly parted lips as his fingers withdrew from between her legs, her eyes following them as he brought them to his lips. She watched in rapt fascination as he licked them clean, seeming to savor the juices that coated them.
"Just one small bit of advice, pet?" he growled softly, the sudden change in the tone catching Willow's attention and drawing her eyes to his. She saw the anger and tension there and felt a sudden burst of fear.
"Don't ever try to tell me what I can and can't do. Tends to piss me off," he said, his eyes boring into hers.
Willow watched in confusion as Spike crawled up her body, his movements languid yet predatory. When he stopped, his face was directly above hers. Moving tantalizingly slowly, he began kissing the marks he had left on her neck previously. After a moment, his demon face glided smoothly to the surface, and without warning his head dipped down, his razor-sharp fangs piercing her skin easily.
Willow thrashed wildly in her bonds, her agonized muscles trying to dislodge the vampire from her throat. He snarled at her, his grip on her throat tightening slightly in warning.
She finally stopped thrashing about when she realized that the only thing her movements were doing was making the bite more painful. Unlike the last time he had bit her, this time it was not at all a pleasant sensation. Before, the removal of her blood had been a slow, languorous, sensual affair. This time he sucked the blood out in harsh mouthfuls as quickly as he could, not caring if he hurt her in the process.
Before long her vision became spotted, and then blackness enveloped her.
Spike sensed that he was quickly approaching the point of no return. He could continue to gulp down her sweet blood until her life was a thing of the past, or he could stop now and leave her still breathing.
After giving the matter careful thought, he decided that he wanted her alive for just a bit longer, if only so that he could see the look on her face when she realized what he had done to her. He knew that she would be angry, and couldn't wait until the next time he saw her.
Her reaction would be amazing and beautiful. He could see it as if it was happening right now: she would be standing there in front of him, her hands on her hips, wild red hair framing her face, green eyes flashing with fire.
He couldn't wait to see it.
The end