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Chapter Twenty-Six: Made For Each Other

His duster fell to the floor, and he quickly pulled off his t-shirt, enjoying the way her eyes traveled down his body. He leaned back down, nipping at her lips. “Is this what you want?” He asked, grinding his swollen, jean clad member on her covered center.

“Yes.” She replied in a whisper.

He slid the sweater from her, and her nipples were apparent through the white camisole. He groans, and his head went down to gently bite the hard buds through the fabric.

She moaned aloud, her hands making their way into his wet tousled hair. He reached for the hem of the small covering, and pushed it up, revealing her bare breasts. He began tasting them, savoring them.

Buffy pulled the camisole from her body and tossed it to the side. She then kicked off her sneakers, as Spike worked on her breasts. Her body lifted from the bed in pleasure.

“Please, Spike…just do it.” She needed him.

“Are you sure, Buffy?” It was rare that he spoke her name, and it was music to her ears.

She nodded slightly, and Spike stood and took off his boots and socks. Buffy sat up on her elbows, and watched and he reached for the button on his jeans. She sat up all the way, and reached for it herself, anxiously. She unbuttoned the metal button, and slid the zipper down in anticipation.

The moment she worked the jeans down, her hands grazing his ass, his cock sprang to life, nearly hitting her in the face. She loved that he always went commando. With a smile, she wrapped her hand around the thick and long member, and kissed the tip.

“You don’t have to love…” His words were breath, pleasure taking him over.

“I know.” She said, looking up at the lust and love of his face with a smile, then her tongue darted out, and licked him. Soon she was pumping him while taking him in and out of her mouth. His moans filled her ears, and it was like music. His fingers went into her hair, but he didn’t try to control her, he just ran them though her wet strands.

“Buffy, love…please…stop.” He ordered, and she looked up at him in surprise.

“Sorry, was it not good?” She asked with a smirk.

“You know very well it was bloody fantastic, but, I’d rather be inside of you.” He reached for the button on her jeans, and soon, she was before him, bare. He studied every curve, every beauty mark, and she blushed under his gaze. “No need to be embarrassed. I never want to forget you beauty.”

She moved so her head was resting on the pillow, and Spike slid between her legs, awaiting her acceptance. She spread her legs, and his chest was against hers. The head of his dick pressed her slick outside, struggling with its entrance.

“So…bloody…tight.” He fought to get in, but gently, and soon with a small gasp from the petite blonde, he was inside.

He rocked in and out, slowly at first, allowing Buffy to adjust to his side. “So…fucking…big. Is that…normal?” She questioned, obliviously.

He quickened his pace, and Buffy began moaning aloud. “Buffy, God…” He breathed.

“Spike…I’ve never…felt so…perfect.” She said between each groan. Her legs went up at his thrust into her, her feet pulling him closer by his ass, and she returned every thrust. “Need you…to…fill me.” And he did, causing her to whimper, and sigh louder.

His lips went back to hers, but their eyes were open, pouring love into one another. He felt himself tighten as she did, and together they climaxed.

“Spike…oh…” She moaned.

“Bloody hell…perfect.” He collapsed onto her chest, and she held him tightly.

They caught their breath in each other’s hold and Spike lay beside Buffy.

“That was amazing.” She said.

“You’re the best at what you do.” He said.

“Funny thing is, I barely knew what I was doing. I just followed my instinct.” She turned to her side, pulling the quilt over her and Spike’s body.

Spike moved to spoon her, and with a little wiggle of her hips, he was hard again. “Bloody hell.” He said.

Buffy lifted her leg, stretching it until it was behind him. This gave him easy access to pound into her once more. Holding her leg in place, Spike entered her with less difficulty reveling in the feel of her sex engulfing him.

Their moans filled the room, once more. Spike’s hands found Buffy’s breasts, and he massaged her gently.

She moaned, and met each plunge with equal urgency. They were made for each other.





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