Rating: NC17
Pairing: Willow/Spike (as it should be)
Spoilers: Nothing really; takes place beginning season 5, Willow's living at home, Tara doesn't exit in my world. AU, of course!
Summary: Willow needs...more.
Notes: Fluff, the whole fluff, and nothing but the fluff. ** indicate emphasis.
Feedback: It's ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don't make me beg, it's not pretty.
E-mail: spikedluv@midtel.net
Distribution: If anybody wants it, please take it. Just tell me where it goes so I can keep track...OK, so I can pull it up and just stare at it for a while!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, just borrowing them for awhile. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whoever else they really belong to, although I wouldn't mind having a Spike of my own. Who would? The story belongs to me.
Dedication: Karen, Ina, Ianthe, Alex, Anna, Danyelle, Angel, Amanda, Shannon, Suzi, Wicca, Chelsea, Aradia and Christie (now a sorta `shipper!), all of whom know that I am a feedback `ho, and feed *my* demon!
Thanks: Amanda, most supreme beta and grasshopper extraordinaire.
****************
Spike jumped silently up onto the balcony outside the redhead's bedroom. Next time, the soddin' Slayer could carry her own bleedin' messages, he thought angrily, `stead of running off with her new puppy. He wasn't her bloody errand boy. Not like he didn't have an unlife of his own, ya know.
He looked through the window of the sliding glass door and focused his eyes on the dark bedroom. He saw Willow lying on her bed and was just about to knock when he realized what she was doing.
The witch was lying naked on her bed, her body bathed in candlelight, her knees drawn up and both hands buried between her thighs. As soon as Spike realized this, the scent of her arousal hit him, almost knocking him to his knees, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before.
The sight of her made him immediately hard and he stroked himself through his jeans as he took in her naked body. Her milky white skin, the red patch between her thighs, pert little breasts with dark nipples. Who knew what she had hidden under those fuzzy sweaters and long skirts? His hand moved faster over his cock.
And then her body tensed. Spike watched in fascination as her orgasm ripped through her body. Her head rolled back and her back bowed, so that she was practically on her toes and shoulders, and animalistic noises emerged from deep in her throat. Her body jerked as her fingers quickly stroked her clit and thrust into her wet opening, prolonging her release.
Spike ripped his jeans open and wrapped his fingers around his cock, lubing it with his own pre-cum and stroking hard and fast as the sight and sound of Willow's climax sent him barreling toward his own.
He watched as Willow's hands fell away from her body and her muscles began to relax. She rolled her head to the side and buried her face into something that was lying on her pillow.
"Oh, goddess, Spike," he heard her whimper as she rolled onto her side and pulled the item to her chest, curled up around it, and fell asleep.
At the sound of his name on Willow's tongue, Spike felt the familiar tingling in the base of his spine and the tightening of his balls. His cock jerked in his hand as he shot his release all over his hand and onto the balcony. He slumped back against the wall, spent.
Bloody fuck! That was unexpected. Though no more unexpected than the fact that she'd made him hard in the first place. So, the little witch thought about him when she touched herself, did she?
After taking a moment to catch his nonexistent breath, he wiped his hand off on his jeans, tucked himself back in, and fastened them. He jumped off of the balcony and headed back to his crypt, then remembered he hadn't given Willow the message. Oh, well, no bleedin' way he was going back now! He'd take care of it tomorrow.
***
When Willow came out of her late class the next night, she stood at the top of the steps and looked around for Buffy, who usually met her and walked her home after her first patrol of the evening. There was no sight of the blonde and Willow wondered if she had been held up on patrol, starting to feel a little bit worried.
She walked down the steps, her hand on the railing, her eyes looking off into the distance, hoping to see her friend's approach. She felt inside her pocket for her stake, then started off down the sidewalk toward her house. A figure loomed up in front of her out of the darkness and Willow gasped as her fingers tightened around the stake.
"Hello, pet," Spike placed the cigarette he was holding between his lips and took a long drag. He'd watched her come out of the building and look around for the Slayer, his eyes following her as she walked down the steps and turned toward home.
He lit the cigarette the moment she stepped out of the building, needing to fill his nostrils with the pungent scent of tobacco smoke so that Willow's scent wouldn't overwhelm him. Now he placed it between his lips and sucked the smoke into his dead lungs, then blew it out, breathing it back in.
"Spike!" Willow yelled as he scared her, then reached out and slapped his chest as he stood in her path. "Don't *do* that!"
"Scare ya?" he smirked.
"You know you did, you big...jerk!" she walked around him and continued on her way, trying to ignore the fact that he was there. The fact that the sight of him was enough to make her body tingle, that the scent of him, smoke and leather and earth and iron, made her hot all over, that the sound of his voice made her core weep.
Goddess, she could barely walk, now! To her utter horror, Spike turned and paced her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to sound firm, probably sounding as nervous as she felt.
"Walking you home," he said as he took another drag.
"Why?"
"Slayer couldn't make it," he said after blowing the smoke out.
"Oh. She didn't tell me," Willow looked away from him. Great, she thought, he was going to be with her the entire walk home. She hoped she didn't break down and attack him. She could just imagine his reaction to *that*! Little mousy Willow Rosenburg having the hots for the big bad vamp. Yeah, what a laugh he'd get out of that one.
"Uh, what?" Willow asked, suddenly realizing that Spike had been talking while she had been cursing her fate.
"Said, Slayer asked me to give you the message last night, but you were already asleep when I got there, and I didn't want to wake you," Spike watched closely as Willow flushed a deep crimson at his mention of last night.
"Oh," she squeaked, "yeah, went to bed early." Thank the goddess she *had* already been sleeping when Spike arrived or he'd have seen more than he bargained for. Willow felt hysterical giggles building in her throat and pushed them back.
She was silent the rest of the walk home. She had no idea what she could talk to Spike about. They rarely spoke. In fact, she rarely saw him. The only times he was around was when they needed information or had some big evil to fight.
Spike finished his cigarette and tossed it away, considered lighting another one, then decided to live, er, unlive, dangerously. He breathed in deeply, filling his nostrils with the scent of Willow. Vanilla and cinnamon, mixed with the heady scent of her arousal. Oh, yeah, he thought, witch wanted the big bad.
After twenty agonizing minutes, they reached Willow's house. She stepped up on the porch and looked back at Spike, who leaned against the railing, one booted foot on the bottom step.
"Uh, thanks," she started nervously, then paused. "Are those *blue* jeans?" she asked in amazement.
"Yeah, what of it?" he asked defensively.
"Oh, uh, well, nothing," she stammered. "It's just, I've never seen you in anything except your black jeans, well, except that one time, actually, two if you count the Hawaiian shirt and the, which, of course, we won't," she finished as his eyes narrowed.
"Everythin' else is in the wash," he growled.
"Sure, of course...I didn't mean...I mean, I like the blue...you know, I'm just gonna go inside now. Wouldn't want you succumbing to the urge to bite me after getting me home safe and all," Willow quickly unlocked the front door.
"Want me ta bite ya, witch?" he asked softly.
"Uh, no, of course not," Willow lied unconvincingly. Not that she wanted him to drain her, but she'd read about other kinds of bites in Giles' Watcher's Diaries, and on the nights when thoughts of Spike brought her body to orgasm, she'd imagined him giving her one of those other kinds of bites.
"Th-thanks for walking me home," she nervously stepped inside the house and looked back at the blond vampire, who hadn't moved from his position.
"No problem," he said, the fresh scent of Willow's arousal giving lie to her words. Oh, yeah, Red had thought about being bit. And he was just the vamp ta do it.
"Goodnight," Willow started to close the door.
"G'night, Red," Spike said. "Sleep tight," he added just before the door shut, smirking to himself. He listened to her footsteps as she moved into the house and started up the stairs. With a swirl of black leather, he pushed himself away from the railing and walked around the house. He stood beneath Willow's window for a few seconds before jumping up onto the balcony.
Oh, goddess, Willow thought as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. She needed relief from the heat spreading between her thighs. For the second time in as many nights, the obnoxious blond vampire had stirred her up. She hadn't needed to pleasure herself to images of Spike touching her in a while. Since the last time she'd seen him, three weeks ago when he helped Buffy with that slimy demon.
She shut her bedroom door behind her, set her book bag on her desk and took her jacket off, hanging it on the back of the desk chair. Without turning the light on, she lit the single candle that sat on the bed stand. She stepped into the bathroom and removed her clothes, tossing them into the hamper, and slipping into a red satin robe that she didn't bother to tie.
She walked out of the bathroom slowly, wanting to savor every moment of this experience. She let her mind drift back over their silent walk home. The scent of him, the creaking of his leather duster, the way he looked with the moonlight shining off of his hair, the sound of his voice, want me ta bite ya, witch?
She shuddered at the memory of his words, and the images they provoked. She moved over to the bed stand and pulled out the top drawer. She lifted a piece of black material out and held it to her face, breathing deeply. It was one of Spike's old t-shirts, discarded that time the Volarti demon had clawed him and he'd needed to be fixed up.
It was torn where the claws had shredded it, and it was stained with blood, but it still smelled like Spike. She tossed it onto her pillow, then reached back into the drawer, pulling out her small vibrator. She had a feeling that her fingers weren't going to be enough tonight.
Spike watched Willow's movements as she took her coat off, lit the candle, then walked to the bathroom. He impatiently waited for her to reemerge, almost moaning out loud when she did. She was wearing a red satin robe that swung open as she walked, giving him glimpses of her porcelain skin, the curls between her thighs and her high breasts.
He adjusted himself in his jeans, stroking his growing erection as he watched Willow open the drawer of her bed stand. She pulled out what looked like a piece of material, held it to her face, then tossed it on her pillow. Her hand slipped back into the drawer and emerged with, Spike squinted in disbelief, a vibrator?
Bloody hell! He unzipped his jeans and freed his erection.
Willow crawled onto the bed and lay on her back, the satin robe falling around her. She uncapped the tube of lubricant she'd also retrieved, squeezed some onto her fingers and spread it over her clit. She tossed the tube onto the bed and picked up the vibrator. She picked the t-shirt up and, rolling her head to the side, breathed deeply, filling her nostrils with Spike's scent, before flicking the vibrator on and placing it against her clit.
Willow moaned, deep and loud, as the vibrator touched her already swollen nub. Being near Spike, and the naughty thoughts she'd entertained about him, already had her hot and wet. She rolled the vibrating tube over her clit, her body jerking each time she hit the most sensitive spot, as she thought about Spike. What it would feel like if he kissed her, touched her, filled her.
With images of Spike thrusting into her, Willow slid the vibrator into her weeping slit, buried it deep, and pressed it against her front wall as her other hand dropped the t-shirt and moved to her clit. Within moments, her body was tensing. Her back arched and she lifted off of the bed as the orgasm rocked her.
"Spike!" she cried as her body jerked.
Spike placed one hand against the wall for support as the other stroked his cock, slowly, deliberately, spreading his pre-cum along the length of it. The smell of her, the thought of her naked, touching herself and thinking about him, had him hard long before they'd even reached her street, but he didn't want to cum until she did.
He watched as she spread herself upon the bed, the candlelight flickering over her bare flesh, as she prepared herself, then held the material to her face as she placed the vibrator against her. He heard her breath quicken, the blood rushing through her veins, her moans of pleasure.
He stroked faster, a little harder, when he saw her toss the material aside, slide the vibrator inside her and place her fingers on her clit. And then she was tensing, arching off of the bed, screaming his name. He loved the way her whole body responded as her orgasm slammed into her. Then he was cuming, shooting his release over his hand and the wall.
Willow didn't pause in her ministrations, rubbing her swollen, sensitive nub and holding the vibrator against her nerves until she'd cum three times, only stopping then because she was too exhausted to continue. She dropped the vibrator onto the bed, rolled to her side and pulled the t-shirt to her face.
She breathed in Spike's scent, then hugged the t-shirt to her chest.
"Spike," she whimpered, a tear sliding out of her eye and running down her nose as she wished she had more. More than his t- shirt, more than images of him in her mind as she pleasured herself. More.
***
After Willow had fallen asleep, Spike cleaned himself off, having thought to bring a rag for that purpose this time, tucked himself back into his jeans and fastened them. As he walked back to his crypt, he came up with a plan. First step, getting into Willow's house to see what she kept in her bed stand.
The next night he waited outside the Watcher's apartment for Willow to emerge. He knew that the Slayer was still on patrol and that the moron and demon girl wouldn't be there, so she'd be leaving alone. He leaned up against the outside wall of the apartment and lit a cigarette to keep his hands busy while he waited.
The door opened, finally, and Willow stepped out into the courtyard, calling `goodnight' to the Watcher before pulling the door closed behind her.
"Red," Spike said when the door was closed and she had taken several steps into the courtyard.
"Aahh!" Willow screamed as she jumped, then turned around to glare at the blond vampire. "Why do you *do* that?!" she looked at him with wide, angry eyes as her chest heaved.
Spike closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "`Cause I love that smell," he said.
"Wh-what smell?" she asked guiltily.
"Fear," he smirked as he pushed himself away from the wall and walked toward her. Also, the faint scent of her arousal that perfumed the air around her when she looked at him. Yeah, he was really starting to like that smell, too.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked nervously.
"Walking you home," he took her arm and turned her around.
"Why?" she asked as she allowed him to lead her up the steps.
"So no other nasty takes a bite of you `fore I've had a chance to," he smirked at her, referencing their conversation of last night.
"That...that's not funny," Willow said, hoping he didn't see the blush spreading up her neck.
"Not joking," Spike said and watched with satisfaction as the blush deepened. "Besides, was hoping you'd do me a favor."
"Favor?" Willow asked suspiciously. "What kind of favor?"
"Got any hot chocolate?" he asked, his blue eyes staring right at her, and Willow felt her stomach flip.
"H-hot chocolate?" she asked stupidly.
"Yeah," he said. "And marshmallows."
They made the rest of the walk to Willow's house in silence, as Willow attempted to digest Spike's request. When they reached the house, Spike followed her up onto the porch and waited patiently while she fumbled with the key and unlocked the door. She swung it open and stepped over the threshold, then looked back at the blond vampire.
"Uh, come in, Spike," she said as she stepped away from the door. She dropped her book bag on the floor at the foot of the stairs and took her jacket off, tossing it over the banister. "I, um, I don't know if there's any hot chocolate in the house. I don't have milk, `cause I eat most of my meals at the college, and my parents haven't been home, I don't know if we have the mix kind, but I can check," she babbled, then turned and fled toward the kitchen.
Spike followed at a slower pace and reached the kitchen to find Willow digging through the cupboards. After searching for about five minutes, she turned around and looked at him.
"I don't think I have any," her face scrunched all up. "Sorry."
"That's okay," he waved his hand at her. "Just one of those last minute things. I appreciate your looking though."
"Oh, sure, anytime," Willow responded politely, then frowned, wondering if it was a good idea to see Spike any more than necessary. She didn't have any spare batteries for the vibrator, she thought madly, before tuning back in to what Spike was saying.
"Well, I'll just be goin' then," Spike turned and headed back toward the front door.
"Oh, right," Willow followed him and held the door open after he stepped through. "Thanks, um, for walking me home," she said.
"No problem," he repeated his words from the night before.
"Goodnight."
"`Night, Red," Spike waited until he heard the locks clicking before he turned and jumped off of the porch and headed `round to the balcony. He climbed up and stood outside the windows and watched as Willow got ready for bed. She pulled the sheets down and got into the bed, then pulled the material out of the bed stand and held it to her face. After taking a deep breath, she held it to her chest and fell asleep.
Spike waited until she'd been breathing deeply, evenly for almost thirty minutes before vaulting over the railing to land lightly on his feet on the ground. The hard part, getting invited into the house, was done. He just hoped she didn't think to do the de-invite spell before the next night.
***
As soon as the sun set, Spike headed toward Willow's house, knowing she'd already be at the Watcher's, researching. He jumped up onto the balcony and jimmied the flimsy lock, pushed the door open and put his hand into the room. No barrier.
He stepped into Willow's bedroom and carefully closed the door. He stood still and listened, double-checking to make sure that the house was empty, before moving over to her bed stand. He pulled the drawer out and reached in, his fingers touching the vibrator.
He withdrew his hand and held the vibrator to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Beneath the scent of the cleanser she had used was the lingering scent of Willow. He dropped it back into the drawer and reached in for the black material he'd seen Willow holding, the reason he was here.
He pulled it out and held it up, unfolding it. It was a black t-shirt. He turned it around in his hands. There were four tears down the front of the shirt. His hands shook as he remembered the night the Volarti demon had slashed his chest and Willow had bandaged him up. She'd kept his t-shirt.
He stumbled back and fell into her desk chair. This was what she held to her face, breathing the scent of him as she pleasured herself. This is what she held to her chest when she fell asleep. He held it to his face and breathed in the scent of Willow that now clung to the material, enjoying their mixed scents.
***
Spike was hidden in the shadows outside the Watcher's apartment, waiting for Willow to leave. When she and the Slayer finally came out, Spike followed them at a distance far enough back that the Slayer wouldn't sense him. He waited until they had said goodnight and the Slayer had moved off, before slipping around the house and up to the balcony, where he had left the doors unlocked.
After Buffy dropped her off, Willow wearily carried her book bag upstairs and set it on her desk, then took her jacket off. She was on an emotional overload, having seen Spike three nights in a row, more times than she'd seen him in the last three weeks! She lit her candle, then went in to the bathroom to change.
She came out wearing the red, satin robe, her hands rubbing her eyes as she walked toward her bed.
"Red," Spike said and Willow's head jerked up
"Spike!" she squeaked, then grabbed her robe and pulled it together, hastily tying the belt as she blushed in a color eerily similar to it. The blond vampire was lounging in her desk chair, his legs spread, his thumbs tucked in his jeans.
"What, um, what are you doing here?" her eyes roamed the room anxiously, wondering if there was anything he shouldn't see.
"Wanted to talk," he said.
"Talk?!" her voice was almost shrill. "You could have knocked," she said.
"Wanted ta surprise ya," he gave a half-smirk, half-smile that made Willow wet.
"S-surprise me?" she asked.
"Yeah," he pursed his lips and Willow almost moaned out loud.
"What, um, what did you want to talk about?" she crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted nervously on her feet.
"I was just wondering," he stood and removed his duster, tossing it over the desk before sitting back down, "at night, when you're all alone in your room," his eyes locked on hers, "when the candlelight bathes your naked flesh, who do you think about, when you touch yourself?" He watched the confusion in her eyes as she tried to understand what he was asking, then opened his hand and saw the confusion change to an embarrassed indignation when she realized that he held her vibrator.
"Spike!" she tore across the room at him. "That's mine...what do you...you have no right!" she reached for the slim tube. Spike tossed it onto the bed behind her, grabbed her hips and pulled her between his legs.
"Let me go!" she squirmed, her struggles only serving to excite him more as the satin beneath his hands slid over her skin.
"You know who I think about?" he asked as he rested his forehead against her, just below her breasts, then rubbed it against her, liking the feel of the satin as it brushed across her body. Willow pulled on his hair, futilely trying to get his head off of her. Goddess, she was so hot and wet. The way he'd been slouching in the chair, the sound of his voice, his hands on her hips.
"You," Spike tilted his head back far enough to see her eyes, then opened his mouth, lowered his head, took one end of the belt between his teeth and began to pull on it.
"No! Spike!" Willow cried, hands that had been pulling on his head suddenly pushing his face into her stomach so that he wouldn't untie the belt. She shoved one hand between them to try and pry the belt from his mouth, but Spike pulled his head out of her hand and tugged the belt free.
The robe fell open, aided by his hands on her hips, and his lips were immediately on her bare flesh as he licked and sucked and kissed her.
"Spike," she moaned. "Spike, stop."
In response he lowered his hands to her thighs and lifted her onto his lap so that she straddled him, his erection pressing against her. He shoved the robe off of her shoulders, licking and kissing and sucking them, working his way down her chest to her breasts.
"Tell me," he coaxed as he closed his lips over her nipple, sucking it, tonguing it, as his hands kneaded her hips, her bum, pressing her tightly against him.
"You!" she gasped as she felt moisture seeping from her, as her body responded to his touch, his words, the feel of him against her. He pulled back and looked at her.
"Is that how you want it to be?" he asked. "Just thinking about me as you touch yourself?" She silently shook her head `no'.
"What do you want?" he asked. She stared at him for several long seconds, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths.
"More," she finally said as she lowered her face to his and kissed him, her arms going around his neck. He ran his hands up her back, pressing her close to him as he angled his head, allowing her to deepen the kiss. Then he stood and carried her to the bed. He put his knee on the bed, leaned forward until she was lying on the bed, then lowered his body until he covered her, never breaking the kiss.
"Me, too," he said when Willow finally had to break away for air. "Me, too," he licked and sucked the sensitive skin of her neck, then crawled down her body until his head was between her legs.
He'd wanted to taste her ever since that moment, three nights ago, when the scent of her arousal had hit him like a brick wall and he'd watched her pleasure herself for the first time. He pushed her thighs apart, then spread her lips with this thumbs and pressed his tongue against her.
Willow bucked at his touch. She wondered if she was dreaming. She couldn't believe that Spike was in her room, on her bed, between her thighs, touching her. And then he swept his tongue along her weeping slit, lapping up the juices that her body was already spilling, then pressed it against her clit.
Willow grabbed his hair and pressed his head against her as she lifted her hips. He slipped a finger inside her as his tongue stroked her clit, feeling her velvet warmth close around him.
Oh, yeah, this was real, she thought.
"Spike," Willow was panting. "Spike!" she came, coating his face with her juices, which he drank as fast as her body released them. While Willow was still recovering from her orgasm, Spike stood and removed his clothing. He climbed back onto the bed and crawled between Willow's legs.
He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth, letting her taste herself on him. He lifted his head and looked down at her as he pressed his head against her entrance.
"More?" he asked.
"More!" she cried. "More, oh, goddess," she arched her back as he slid into her. "Yes, more," she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his head back down to her, kissing him as she lifted her hips.
Spike growled into her mouth as he began to thrust into her. She felt so bleedin' good around him, so hot and tight.
Willow wrapped one arm around his back, her nails digging into him, as the fingers of her other hand tangled in his hair. Spike rested his weight on his elbows, his hands cupping her face, his fingers in her hair as he pumped harder, faster.
Willow pulled away from the kiss and her head went back. Her body tensed and she began a wordless keening deep in her throat. The sounds she was making and the way her body tensed in preparation for her orgasm made Spike crazy, and he drove into her, slamming against her, until she screamed his name, her body clutching at him as she came.
"Willow!" he roared her name as he spurt his release into her.
Spike fell on top of her and they lay like that for several minutes as they both recovered from their orgasms. Then Spike rolled to the side, pulling Willow with him so that she was cuddled up against him.
He ran his hands over her back, reveling in the feel of her, and almost cried out when he felt Willow's warm hands on his chest. He kissed her forehead as her tiny hands explored his arms and shoulders. Spike reached behind Willow and pulled out the t-shirt he'd laid on the pillow before she came out of the bathroom.
"Can we get rid of this?" he asked. Willow looked up to see what he was talking about, then reached out and grabbed the shirt out of his hand and held it to her chest.
"No! I can't...h-how did you know about this?" she asked.
"Remember the night I was supposed to tell you that Buffy couldn't walk you home from class?" he asked softly.
"Uh huh," she responded, even softer.
"Well, when I got here, you hadn't fallen asleep yet," he kissed her forehead again, his hands rubbing her back soothingly.
"I...I hadn't?" she asked, her blood running cold.
"No."
"Oh, goddess," she moaned. "You saw me...,"
"Yes," he brushed his fingers over her face, which she promptly covered with the t-shirt.
"That's so embarrassing! Also, kind of a turn on," she paused, her voice muffled by the shirt. "Nope, embarrassment definitely winning out. I'm mortified, humiliated...,"
"Stop!" he spoke firmly, pulling her hands and the t-shirt away from her face. "No embarrassment," he kissed her. "And we're going to have to clean the balcony off."
"Why?" she asked, confused at the change in topic.
"`Cause you made me cum," he lifted her leg over his and slid into her.
"Ahh...really?"
"Mmm, really," he licked her neck. "Twice. Next night, too."
"Next...," she suddenly remembered the vibrator he'd held in his hand when she came out of the bathroom. "You saw...?"
"Mmm hmm," he smirked at her with a raised eyebrow. "We're definitely keeping that."
"We are?" she dropped the t-shirt on the bed behind her and wrapped her arms around him, pressing down as he thrust into her.
"Yep. Ready for more?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," she moaned.
The End