Title: My Spuffy Valentine
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS characters belong to me.

Feedback: Very much needed.
Rating: NC-17




Part one...

"So...what did you do last night?" Buffy placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of Anya and took a seat across from her. "It being Valentine's Day and all."

Anya reached for the sugar bowl and dumped three spoonfuls into her cup. "He brought me roses and champagne and THIS!" She lifted the gold chain from around her neck and showed Buffy the heart shaped pendant hanging from it.

"Pretty," Buffy dutifully admired.

"Yes," Anya agreed. "And valuable as well...the gold standard being what it is these days. Always a good investment."

Buffy looked at her. "Right. I suppose it is." She hesitated a moment. "Um, Anya...I don't mean to sound critical...but do you could be concentrating too much on the value, instead of the meaning?"

Anya took a sip of her coffee, looking slightly perplexed.

"I'm just saying," Buffy plowed ahead, "that when you look at it from that...perspective...it kinda takes away from the romance."

"But there WAS romance," the other girl insisted. "Romance and jewelry."

Buffy sighed. "Then tell me about the romance instead of the re-sale value."

Anya frowned, thinking hard. "Oh! I know! He took me out for dinner...and dancing, too. Better?"

The slayer smiled. "Much."

"Then we went home and had..."

"I know," Buffy said, cutting her friend off. "Very romantic there, I'm sure," she said wistfully.

Anya continued to prattle, completely unaware that Buffy wasn't really listening, but was searching her memory, trying to call up the last romantic thing her man had done for her.

"All right," Anya said briskly. "Since this is our girl-friendly bonding ritual, you have to tell me what you did last night. Then, we compare notes."

Buffy shrugged. "Nothing special."

"No roses? No champagne?"

"Nope."

"No sex?!" Anya was aghast.

"Oh, yeah," Buffy assured her. "There was sex." Her eyes became soft and dreamy. "Incredible sex." Shaking her head to clear it, she added, "It's just that...Spike's not big on the romance...you know, the hearts and flowers stuff."

"Ohh...that's not good."

"Don't get me wrong," Buffy said quickly. "He loves me...but a hundred and some odd years of being a vamp doesn't really make for the romance."

"But the sex was good?" Anya asked about the subject second dearest to her heart.

"Oh, sure. Extremely good. Wild, in fact."

Anya leaned closer. "Tell."

Buffy shook her head. "I couldn't."

"But you have to," Anya insisted. "That's what girlfriends do...share all their juicy secrets."

"Yeah?"

"I told YOU about Xander...do you want to hear more?"

"There's more?" Buffy laughed. "You've already been pretty descriptive."

"That's what I mean. Now, it's your turn to descript."

"Describe."

"Yes. Do that."

It was a tempting idea, letting Anya know just how spectacular her sex life was. Buffy knew that, no matter how terrific Anya might consider Xander to be in the bedroom, Spike could outdo him without even trying.

Just thinking about the things he was able to do to her body made her squirm in her chair.

Sexually, Spike was a strong and demanding partner. There was nothing tentative about him.

Impetuous and wild of heart, he thought nothing of approaching her at any time of the day or night, slinging her over his shoulder and carrying her off to the nearest bed.

He had unbelievable stamina, and a practically non-existent recovery time...he was often ready to go again while she was still coming down from her climax.

Spike knew what she wanted before she even knew it herself, and he always gave it to her, making sure that her pleasure came before his...or at the very same time.

** Lucky slayer...Very lucky slayer..**

"Well," she began, leaning over in a conspiratorial way, "he's a demon, you know. In bed and out. Just a wild man...if you know what I mean." She settled into her chair and smiled. "You think you and Xander get it on in a lot of different places? You wouldn't believe some of the places we do it."

Anya's eyes grew round with amazement, inspiring Buffy to go on.

"In our bed." She began a list. "On the kitchen counter...in an elevator...in the shower...the bathtub...various cemeteries...the restroom at the Bronze...the basement of the Magic Box...the
last row in the movie theater...women's fitting room in Macy's...the men's fitting room in Macy's...on the slide in the playground...top row of the bleachers at the high school, DURING
a football game..."

Buffy was lying now, but she just couldn't help it. "Shall I go on?"

"No. No," Anya frowned, jumping to her feet. "I have to go home now."

"Oh...well, goodbye," Buffy called to Anya's back as she ran out the back door.

**Better brace yourself, Xander. You got NO idea what's heading your way.**

Smiling a little, Buffy collected the dishes and stacked them in the sink.


******************************

Spike stood in the hallway outside the kitchen, listening to Buffy and Anya's conversation.

He hadn't planned on eavesdropping, but the slayer's words had captured his attention and kept him from joining them.

**No romance? Christ...I've been falling down on the job.**

He'd had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as Buffy recited her list of their supposed trysting places, half of which were blatant falsehoods.

**You want romance, baby? I'll show you romance. I'm gonna make sure we check off every location on that list of yours.**

Clearing his throat to alert her to his presence, he walked into the kitchen. Without a word, he pulled her close, slipping one arm around her waist and tilting her back over it, then kissing her until she was breathless.

When he finally straightened her back up, she gave him a dazed look. "Wow," she said, her eyes a little glassy. "That's some 'Good Morning' you've got there."

Spike shrugged. "Want to start the day off right."

Buffy twined her arms around his neck. "Who needs vitamins when you're around?" she laughed. "Do that again."

He obliged her, keeping the embrace gentle. Pulling back after a placing a series of light kisses all over her pretty face, he smiled down into a pair of green eyes that were big with surprise.

**Romantic!** He struggled to keep a tight grip on his rampaging sex drive. **Keep it romantic, stupid!**

"Boy, you must have had some good dream last night," Buffy said, sliding her arms around his waist.

"Well sure," he replied. "I always dream about you."

She gave him a knowing smile. "So...what were we doing and where were we doing it?"

Spike cast around in his mind for a lie. "We were...dancing."

Buffy opened her mouth to make a suggestive comment, then stopped when his words registered. "Dancing? Just dancing?"

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "Just dancing. Kind of romantic, it was."

Her eyes sparkled beautifully. "Romantic? Really? Well...tell me about it."

Oh, great. Tell her about it? There was nothing to tell.

Still...he hadn't survived for over a hundred years without being able to think fast on his feet.

"Tell you about it? Right...uh...we were dressed real posh. You looked sensational in a long red dress...cut kinda low in the front."

"Yeah?" she encouraged him.

**Think...think...think...** "You had your hair all put up with...with hair things." As he warmed to the subject, he became more expansive. "We were in this big ballroom...the only ones there. And, um...there was music playing...but we were alone. I danced you out on to a terrace. The moonlight was shining in your hair...and I kissed you...and told you how much I love you."

Stepping back, he took both her hands in his and looked at her seriously. "You DO know how much I love you...don't you, baby? Even if I don't say it all the time?"

"Of course I do," she said, smiling up at him. "I love you, too."

He leaned down and kissed her sweetly. "Listen, luv...I know I forgot about Valentine's day. Let me make it up to you tonight. I'll take you out somewhere and romance you a little."

Buffy nodded eagerly. "Oh, I would love that."

"It's a date, then?"

"It's a date!"



TBC.....

 


Part two....


The doorbell rang at a quarter to five, just as she was finishing painting her toe nails a deep crimson.

Buffy hobbled to the front door and opened it to find a boy of about seventeen or so standing on her porch. He looked tired, and when she saw the long white box in his hands, she knew why.

"Buffy Summers?"

"That's me."

He handed her the box, then whipped out his pad and pen. "Sign here."

As she was signing her name, she smiled sympathetically.

"Working hard?" she asked.

The boy sighed. "I still haven't recovered from yesterday," he said. "I was delivering flowers until almost midnight."

Returning his pad to him, she grabbed her purse off the telephone table and fished out a five dollar bill. "Well, at least you must have gotten paid overtime, right?"

The boy yawned, showing a frightening amount of silver fillings. "Yeah. Scored big on tips, too. But I'm too tired to spend any of it."

Sending him on his way, she pulled off the ribbon that was holding the box closed and lifted the lid.

Roses. A dozen of them. Long stemmed and plump, they were creamy white, with a blush of pale pink tinting the soft petals. Buffy removed them from their tissue paper bed and raised them to her face, inhaling the scent.

Romance wise, Spike was off to a splendid start!

After placing the delicate blooms carefully on the coffee table, she opened the small card.



'Take your love and embrace it with your
heart, giving as only you can;
It will renew in it's beauty,
As when love first began.
Growing in the warmth of your heart
As graciously as God has chose,
Showing it's tenderness to the world,
As does the beauty of the rose.' *



"I was so wrong," Buffy murmured, scooping up the flowers and cradling them against her chest. "He CAN do romance."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doorbell went off again, just as she climbed out of the bathtub. Wrapping her terry cloth
robe snugly around her damp body, she headed downstairs.

"Buffy...Summers?"

"The one and only."

Standing before her was 'David', and according to the logo on the van in her driveway, he worked for a high end liquor store with an extensive wine cellar. He handed her a bottle, then requested her signature.

She closed the door, examining the label: 'Veuve Clicquot...1996...Brut Rose'.

There was a frothy red ribbon around the neck of the bottle, with another small card attached.



"Seductive, fluid movement
Dancing close as one
Soft touches,
Your fingers brushing against my skin
Small hands cupping my back
Legs intertwined
Lost in the rhythm

Anticipating the promises of this night
Like champagne bubbles in my blood." **



"Where has THIS Spike been hiding all these years?"


Buffy felt a little sorry for Anya. She had gotten the roses and champagne, but there was no way Xander was romancing her with this kind of poetry, his preferences tending to lie in the "There was a young girl from Nantucket" form of verse.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She studied her reflection in the mirror, and was pleased with her results.

Her make up was perfect. Two different shades of shadow blended together deepened the green in her eyes. She'd used a dark brown liner to enhance their size, followed by several strokes of her mascara brush.

Still carrying the remains of her summer tan, she put nothing on her face but a slight dusting of rose blush. Her lips were a glossy scarlet red.

After washing and drying her hair, she'd curled it into soft waves that framed her face, then pulled it back on one side with a sparkly slide comb.

She stepped into her red silk dress, then fished around in her jewelry box for her garnet earrings.

The doorbell rang.

Buffy felt an excited shiver chase up and down her spine at the sound.

When she threw open the door, she was surprised when there was no one on the porch.

But...there was a box sitting on the welcome mat.

Small...black velvet...card attached.

She read the card first.



"My heart is bound to yours by golden chains forever forged to last in love's hot fire.." ***

Buffy flipped back the lid of the small box and gasped out loud. Nestled in velvet, there was a delicate gold chain bearing a heart shaped locket.

As she fastened the clasp, she smiled at the memory of something she'd said to Anya about Spike not being big on romance.

**Stupid slayer,** she chided herself.

When it came to the subject of romance, he could give lessons on it!

**Lucky slayer! Very lucky slayer!**



TBC.....
* Quotation by Sonji Rush
** Quotation by Windsong
*** Quotation by Michelle Chapman

 

 




Part three....


Spike didn't bother ringing the doorbell when he showed up. He would have felt silly standing outside a house he practically lived in himself, knocking for admittance.

Besides, he loved surprising Buffy.

Flinging the door open with a flourish worthy of Don Juan himself, he spotted the girl of his dreams standing in front of the hall mirror, admiring the gold necklace dangling between her breasts.

"Well, look at you," he murmured approvingly. "God...I'm the luckiest man in Sunnydale tonight."

She favored him with her prettiest smile, spinning in front of him to show off her dress. "You like?"

"I definitely like," he agreed. From where he had it hidden behind his back, he produced a large, heart shaped box of chocolates. "Almost forgot the sweets for my sweetheart."

Buffy's eyes grew huge. The box was deep red velvet, with a border of red lace running around it, and a red satin bow on top. It had to be at least ten pounds worth of candy!

Taking it from him, she placed it on the coffee table. "Thank you," she said happily. "For the candy, and the flowers, and the champagne....and for this." She lifted the gold locket, cradling it in her fingers. "It's just beautiful. The most romantic gift I've ever been given...and I love it. I love YOU!"

"I love you, too," he said, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her close. "I hate to ruin your make up, darling, but...I can't help it."

He kissed her passionately, not waiting for an assent or a denial.

When he finally released her lips, she looked up at him with starry eyes. "I can always redo my make up."

"Oh, well...in that case..." Swooping in again, he kissed her even more thoroughly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You look nice," she said, as he led her down the porch steps to his car.

He really did, too. That suit he was wearing looked like Armani. Black silk. Seriously expensive.

His shirt was crisply white and tailored for him. Gold cuff links set with stones of jet black onyx held the french cuffs together, and his tie was a heavy silk splash of deep pewter against his shirt.

He seated her in the passenger side of his black Jaguar, and as she sank into the plush upholstery, Buffy couldn't help but compare it with the car he'd driven into Sunnydale years ago.

Although he had cleaned it up considerably, Buffy had never liked riding in his De Soto. It just reminded her too much of Drusilla. So, when his first book hit the New York Times bestseller list, he had taken her out and had her choose a proper car for him.

A year later, when his publisher had paid him a fortune for the sequel, he bought a townhouse close to the ocean. The rest of the money was put into a high interest bearing account, and that interest produced more than enough money to live well on.

With his third book in the series very close to completion, the money he'd be expecting would send his account through the ceiling.

Their massive popularity with both critics and readers made them a mother lode of cash, far outselling anything Anne Rice had ever even dreamed of. Actually being a vampire allowed him to include details in his stories that had never been heard of before.

Literary critics applauded his "breathtaking imagination", never having a clue that imagination had almost nothing to do with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are we going?"

"Out to dinner...then, maybe some dancing..."

"And then?"

He grinned at her. "Home for champagne and chocolates."

Spike deliberately kept silent about any other possibilities. The evening was about romance, not about sex. Although, with her looking the way she did, that would be a hard thing to go through with.

Pulling the car into the parking lot of the Chart House, he gave it over to the valet and walked Buffy inside. He'd greased his last minute reservation with the the promise of a heavy tip, and they were seated immediately at a corner table overlooking the harbor.

The candlelight danced in the waves of Buffy's hair, and he mentally kicked his own arse for not doing this sooner. Just look at what he'd been missing!

Champagne was ordered and poured, and appetizers were chosen. After the waiter headed to the kitchen with their dinner order, Spike re-filled the champagne flutes and handed one to Buffy.

"You know, luv...I don't think I say it as often as I should, but...I do love you. You're my whole world. You always will be."

Buffy tilted her head and smiled. "You may not say it often...but you sure do say it well."

After their glasses touched lightly, they threw back the wine in one swallow and then laughed.

"Having fun, kitten?"

"Oh, god yes! It's all so...so...."

"Romantic?" he ventured.

Buffy nodded. The champagne was making her a little fuzzy and warm. Slipping her shoe off, she trailed her toes up the front of Spike's leg. "Romantic....and sexy."

Spike just looked at her calmly. Buffy so rarely had anything alcoholic to drink, that he sometimes forgot how cute she could be when she got a little buzz going.

"Where you going with those little toes, Slayer?"

"Ohhh...just slliiiding 'em up the front of your pants. Does it tickle?" she asked hopefully.

"Terribly," he affirmed. "Go higher."

She placed her foot on the chair between his thighs, then inched up a little further. "My," she said, locating the bulge behind his zipper. "Someone wants to come out and say hello."

Thankful for the long tablecloth, Spike leaned back in his chair and allowed the foot job she was giving him.

The waiter suddenly reappeared, carrying a tray. As he began placing plates in front of them, Buffy started to retract her foot.

Spike had other ideas. Grabbing hold of it, he rubbed her sensitive instep against his erection, refusing to release her.

Buffy yelped out a high pitched giggle, then turned bright red when the waiter looked at her. "What?" she asked, hoping to forestall any comments. "I'm okay."

Well accustomed to patrons being slightly intoxicated, the young man didn't reply beyond a murmur of he "hoped they enjoyed their meals" and to "please let him know if they required anything else."

"We're fine," Buffy said, fanning one hand at him and peering owlishly at his name tag, "...Scott. Oh, wait," she added, giving Spike an appealing look. "Can we have more champagne?"

He nodded. "Anything you want, luv. S'all for you tonight."

Right at that moment, he was finding her so completely adorable that had she requested he go to France and harvest the grapes himself, he'd have given it serious consideration.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"How's your dinner, kitten?"

"Oh," Buffy nearly groaned. "So good. I haven't had lobster in ages." She dipped a forkful into the drawn butter, then offered it across the table. "Taste."

Spike leaned over obediently and ate the morsel, staring straight into her eyes as he let the fork slide slowly out of his mouth. "Hmm. You're right."

He looked down at the prime rib on his own plate, then cut off a bite that wasn't quite as blood rare as the rest of it.

Buffy opened her mouth and his fork slipped in. When it came back out empty, she licked the juices off her lips and let her eyes drift shut. "Mmmm...yummy."

"All right, you win hands down in the sexy eating portion of the evening," Spike observed, tugging at the knot of his tie.

Opening her eyes, she tossed him a sassy grin. "I wouldn't say that just yet. The evening's still young."

Her comment fanned the flames of the lingering arousal he'd been maintaining ever since her little foot had crept up between his legs. "You almost finished?"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Aren't we having dessert?" Buffy asked, trotting behind him as he dragged her into the area of the restaurant set aside for dancing.

Since it was the day after Valentine's day, they were nearly alone on the dance floor.

"Sure, we are," Spike said, stopping in the middle of the floor and pulling her close. "After I dance with you."

The music was soft and sexy, and the lights were turned down low. The romance factor soared to a new high.

He took Buffy's hands and kissed each one, then slipped her arms up and around his neck. His own hands traced lingeringly down her sides before coming to rest on her hips.

This was something he absolutely loved doing; dancing with Buffy. The first time he'd seen her had been on a dance floor, an image that was burned indelibly into his memory.

Even then, on that long ago first night, he'd wanted her. And not just to kill.

He remembered circling the dance floor, his eyes glued to every movement of her supple body. The sway of her hips had fascinated him, and every time she'd shaken back that thick mane of honey brown hair he had wanted to plunge his hands into it and hold her still as he devoured her tasty looking mouth.

How a sixteen year old girl could have such natural sensuality, he hadn't been able to comprehend. But she had it in spades and he'd wanted it...wanted her...with a fierce craving he'd barely been able to control, and he'd come very close to asking her to dance with him.

Now, holding her slender body as it moved seductively against his, he wanted her with that same urgency. They swayed to the mellow beat of the music, hardly moving their feet at all.

She moved her arms up behind her neck, lifting her hair and then letting it tumble down, knowing well how much he enjoyed the sight. When she heard a soft growl issue from his throat, she turned in his embrace and pressed her back to his front.

Purposely rubbing her bottom against him, she pulled his arms tighter around her waist and let her head lean back against his chest.

Spike lowered his head, nuzzling the silky column of her throat and whispering in her ear. "You're making me hard."

"I know," she replied, cupping the side of his face with her hand. "What are we gonna do about it?"

Despite what he wanted to do about it, he clamped down firmly on the urge. This was supposed to be about romance, and dragging her outside in order to screw her up against a back alley wall didn't really qualify.

"Let's..." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Let's go and have dessert."

After a long moment, she sighed. "And then can we go home?"

"You can count on it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the table, they ordered chocolate cake and an Irish coffee drink that came in glass mugs rimmed with a crust of heated sugar.

Buffy drove Spike nuts by licking the edges of the mug and staring right at him while she did.

Since he was rapidly reaching his own personal meltdown point, he reached over and grabbed her hand. On their way to the door he caught hold of their waiter and shoved three one hundred dollar bills into his hand, and a fourth one into his shirt pocket, not even hearing the boy's babbled thank you.

Following up by over tipping the valet as well, he drove back to Buffy's house in half the time it had taken to get to the restaurant.

Romance was all well and good, but he wanted sex...and he wanted it soon.



TBC......

 

 

 

 
 
Part four....
 
 
"Spike!  Slow down!"
 
"I can't, baby. I'm almost there."
 
"You're too tense!"
 
"Can't help it. I'm soooo damn close."
 
"Yeah, but...oomph!...watch it with the speed bumps, will you?!"
 
"Sorry. You all right?"
 
"Yes....and will you STOP taking corners on two wheels!  You're gonna get us killed!"
 
"Too late for that one, Slayer."
 
"Okay, you're gonna get ME killed!" 
 
"Come on, now. You're tough. Little thing like a car accident can't stop the slayer."
 
"I'm also mortal, you know. Flesh?  Blood? A full set of breakable bones?"
 
"Darling, I've seen you fall off a four story building without breaking a nail."
 
"Fine. It's YOUR seventy-three thousand dollar car you'll be wrapping around a tree."
 
"You're to blame for it if I do."
 
"I'm...I'M to blame. Me?"
 
"Bloody RIGHT, you are. Rubbing that gorgeous little ass of yours against my dick, getting me all worked up.  The least you could do is to..."
 
"Just keep your eyes on the road, pal!"
 
******************************
 
 
After waiting impatiently for Buffy to find her house key, Spike grabbed her purse and upended it on the porch swing. He snatched up the key ring and unlocked the door himself, leaving Buffy to refill her purse.
 
Muttering under her breath, she closed the door and then gasped out a surprised "Yeeks" when Spike scooped her up and headed for the stairs.  "Still speeding, I see."
 
"Oh, hush up," he teased. "You're ruining my 'Gone With The Wind' moment here."
 
Halfway up the staircase, Buffy wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. "I just hope you're not going to rush through..."
 
"Hey!  Have I EVER rushed through THAT?"
 
"Yeah!" she pointed out. "When we were in that bar down by..."
 
"When YOU weren't rushing right along with me, I mean?"

 

"Oh. In that case, no."
 
Crossing the hallway into her bedroom, Spike set Buffy down on her feet and kissed her. She gasped again, which made it easier for him to slide his tongue into her mouth.  It licked over hers, teasing and tasting.
 
She placed her hands on his shoulders, plastering her body against his from chest to toe, feeling the urgency
of his need.
 
The kiss became even more intense. It was hard and deep, and extremely possessive. 
 
Buffy could feel herself becoming slightly lightheaded, and she whimpered softly under his touch.
 
Spike slanted his head, holding her even closer with one hand on the back of her head and the other splayed over her lower back.
 
When he felt her nails digging in, he finally pulled away and allowed her to pant for air.  Gaining a small amount of composure, he held up one hand. "I'll be right back."
 
"Be right back?  Be right back from where?" she mumbled, still dizzy from the heat of their kiss.
 
Spike didn't state his purpose. He just grabbed her face and planted another hard kiss on her lips, then walked out of the room, leaving Buffy disoriented.
 
Blindly, she felt behind her for the bed and dropped down onto it. Shaking her head to clear it, she tugged off her shoes and dropped them onto the carpet with a soft thump.
 
By the time she'd crawled backwards into the middle of the mattress, he was back.  The bottle of champagne
was in his right hand, and the glasses in his left. The candy box was wedged under his arm.
 
He had taken off his jacket and tie while he was gone, and unbuttoned his shirt. It was a sight that never failed to make Buffy a little muddled in the head. He was dead sexy in everything he wore, but there was just something about this particular look that really pleased her.
 
Barefoot...no jacket...his shirt unbuttoned AND untucked...hair mussed as though he'd been running his hands through it to calm himself down.  Combining all those ingredients with his laser blue eyes and the slight smile
that tugged at one corner of his mouth, made for a potent recipe  of male sexuality, brazenly on display.
 
And it was all for her!
 
With a wicked grin, he knelt on the bed in front of her. He dropped the candy box to one side and handed
her the glasses.  "You're gonna love this," he said, pouring the sparkling wine.
 
They stretched out on the bed, lying on their sides and propped up on their forearms.
 
Although Spike was anxious to get on with getting it on, he reined in his thundering libido in an effort to keep
things as supremely romantic as Buffy wanted them to be.
 
Placing the empty glasses on the nightstand, he reached for the candy box and opened it.  The air became sweetened with the aroma of dark chocolate.  Spike selected one and held it up to Buffy's lips.
 
She bit into it and nearly moaned with happiness. A chocolate covered cherry lay within the sweet, it's pink cream oozing from it.  "That is heaven," she said, her words slightly garbled.
 
Spike ate the rest of it, then slipped one hand behind Buffy's neck and pulled her close to kiss her.
 
They blended together perfectly, each one tasting chocolate on the other's lips and tongue as well as their own.
 
"Mmmm..." Buffy pointed to the piece she wanted next. "That one."
 
They emptied five more of the little brown pieces of paper that held the chocolates,  feeding each other bites.
 
"I've heard it said that chocolate is a powerful aphrodisiac," Spike said, setting the box on the floor. "What's your opinion on that?"
 
Buffy licked her lips. "I believe every word of it."
 
"Want to test the theory?"
 
"You bet I do."
 
******************************
 
They undressed at the speed of light, then fell together in a feverish embrace.
 
As they kissed, Spike wedged a thigh between hers, grinding it against her.  Buffy's head dropped back, breaking their oral contact.
 
But he wasn't finished. "More," he murmured, taking her mouth once again.  It was a soft kiss, gentle on her mouth. 
 
Leaning on his left forearm, he brought his right hand up, seeking her breast.  It filled his hand, and he applied pressure, squeezing it firmly. 
 
When he broke their kiss, Buffy's eyes opened and she saw that he was watching her face intently as he fondled her.  His thumb brushed over the hardened tip, eliciting a soft gasp from her.
 
"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his eyes locked on her. "You like my hands on your breasts.  You like me playing with them." 
 
These weren't questions, and she had no need to answer him. Her body was doing all the talking.
 
Thrusting her breast more firmly into his hand, she maintained eye contact when he lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her nipple.
 
"And when I lick them," he added. "And suck on them. You love it when I do that."
 
Closing his mouth around her, he began sucking, gently at first, then with more enthusiasm.
 
He gave both her breasts equal attention, licking the surface of them and tonguing the nipples before he suckled.
 
Buffy worked herself against his thigh, creating more of the pleasurable friction.
 
Spike sent his free hand down, easing it between her legs.  He pulled his thigh away, replacing it with his hand, caressing her swollen labia.  She whimpered when he worked one finger up inside of her.
 
"You're so wet," he said, her nipple popping from  his mouth. "Slick and hot."
 
Moving her onto her back, he watched as her legs fell apart and she lifted into his touch.  He promptly added a second finger, studying her face for her reaction.
 
He could tell that she was close to coming, so he started to pump his fingers in and out more rapidly, finger-fucking her.
 
Buffy arched her back, clutching the sheets to keep herself anchored.
 
His hand was suddenly bathed in wet warmth.  He waited until she calmed down, and then began sliding down her body. Gently, he pushed her thighs further apart and settled himself between them.
 
"I've been wanting to eat this all evening," he said, bending his head and lapping her sex with his tongue.
 
She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from screaming at his first touch. Holding her legs open, he stared at her pussy.  The dark pink flesh was shiny with moisture and clit was engorged.
 
A ragged gasp from her encouraged him. He began licking her, starting at the bottom, then gliding his tongue over her ultra sensitive spot.
 
"Spike," she cried, lifting her hips and trying to close her legs around him.
 
But he wouldn't allow it. He kept her still, her legs spread wide for him.  Pushing his hands beneath her, he cupped the cheeks of her ass and brought her up to him.
 
The scent of her was driving him wild, sweet and spicy at the same time.  He pressed his face between her thighs again, thrusting his tongue in as far as he could force it to go.
 
In and out, in and out, his tongue was relentless, repeatedly flicking over her clit again and again, drawing out her fluid for him to drink down.

 

Buffy was quivering all over, vibrating like a tuning fork.  Then, he closed his lips around her clit and sucked hard.
 
Her cries urged him on, and he continued eating her.  Grinding his stiff cock against the mattress, he concentrated on not coming all over the sheets.
 
When he body relaxed, he looked up and saw her watching him. She opened her arms and whispered, "I
want you inside of me."
 
His patience and control shot to hell, Spike covered her.  Chest to chest, they sought each other's mouths
and exchanged deep, tongue thrusting kisses.
 
Using one hand to position his cock, he plunged into her hard and fast.  He slipped that hand behind her bottom, lifting it for deeper penetration.
 
Buffy was writhing and moaning, trying to match his wild rhythm.  She wrapped her legs around him, keeping
him from withdrawing as she gyrated her pelvis against his.
 
"Fuck...yeah, like that..." he muttered, pushing down harder.  "Do it harder....fuck yourself on it."
 
Buffy dug her nails into his back, leaving long red scratches as marks of her ownership.  They came together frantically, hard and fast.
 
She placed her feet flat on the bed, meeting every downward thrust he pounded into her.

 

Spike closed his eyes tightly, focusing all his senses on what was happening between his legs.  He buried his face against the side of her neck, resting his full weight on top of her, knowing she could take it with no discomfort.
 
Every muscle in his body was straining to make her come.  His hips rose and feel between her soft thighs, bodies slapping together and pulling apart.
 
"Oh, god...oh, yes...Spike..." Buffy moaned in a fever of delirium. "Harder...fuck me harder..."
 
He redoubled his efforts, grunting with every thrust.
 
"Buffy...fuck, baby....do it...fuck me...ahhhh, god, yeah...so good...so tight....sweet little pussy. Gonna fuck it...fuck it all damn night...that's it...that's my good girl...give it to me...it's mine...you're mine..."
 
"....yes..."
 
"...mine!..."
 
"Yours...yes..."
 
Ramming in and pulling out, his cock serviced her, satisfying every aching need she had.
 
"You...belong...to me....all of you...every...part...of you...is...is mine..."
 
She was so close, the pleasure was so intense, that there simply WAS nothing else.  The entire world had
collapsed in on itself like a telescope, leaving only this bed...this man.
 
"Come for me, baby," he grated harshly in her ear. "I'm gonna come...I want you with me when I do it. Come...come all over my cock...fuck!...can you feel it...feel it get harder?"
 
Buffy whimpered an assent. She DID feel it, felt his hard cock become tempered steel as it slid in and out of her tight warmth.
 
Her orgasm hit like a tsunami, pounding her body senseless.
 
Spike was with her. He threw his head back with a feral growl as he ejaculated his load into her.  Spurts of semen drenched her, making things slick and slippery.
 
Tearing himself away, he dropped down between her legs again and draped them over his shoulders. He
pushed his face into her, licking her clean with voracious strokes of his tongue. He located her clit and sucked
it roughly, wanting her to have one more orgasm.
 
Stimulated nearly to the point of pain, she ground against his pleasuring mouth, flooding it with her juices.
 
"Spike...Spike!  Yes...oh!...oh, yes!"
 
As far as speaking was concerned, it was the best she could manage at the moment, so she pushed him over and took his cock into her mouth to repay him.
 
She sucked hard and fast, working him with her lips and tongue, fondling his sac with her fingers.
 
Completely taken by surprise, he lay prone as his organ became fully erect again. "Christ, baby...yes! Oh, fuck...do it!  Suck it!  Uh!  Harder...suck my cock...yeah...yeah...oh, bloody hell...that's good, luv...ahhhh...make me come...in your mouth...hot little mouth...sucking me...sucking my come...I'm gonna do it, baby...now...now...stay still...let me do it...yes...yes...here it comes...BUFFY! OH, YEAH!!"
 
Slightly less explosive this time, but every bit as satisfactory.
 
******************************
 
"Where are you going?"
 
"I have another present for you. Where'd you throw my pants?"
 
"Um...not sure. I just wanted to get them off you."
 
"Well...oh, here."
 
"What's that?"
 
"What does it LOOK like, Slayer?"
 
"A little black box."
 
"You have good eyesight.  You gonna open it?"
 
"Oh, god...Spike?"
 
"D'ya like it?"
 
"It's beautiful...perfect. Is it a...I mean...YOU know.  Is it?"
 
"Yeah.  Will you?"
 
"I will."
 
"Really?"
 
"Mm-hmm. Here. Put it on me."
 
"I'm sorry that it wasn't a more romantic proposal."
 
"Hey, it sounded good to me."
 
"Well, that's all that matters, isn't it?  I...why are you crying?"
 
"I'm not."
 
"Uh-huh. What's this, then?"
 
"Maybe I am...a little. Why don't you kiss me and make me stop?"
 
"Happy Valentine's Day, luv."
 
"Happy Valentine's Day."
 
 
 
 
The End...