She was frozen, a rabbit in headlights. He clenched his hands at his sides, the compulsion to touch her almost overwhelming. His nostrils flared as her vanilla perfume, coated with the scent of her undeniable arousal closed around him. Her eyes widened as she scrambled for the blanket to hide her body, it not occurring to her that he had already seen everything. A flush crept up her face from her neck.
Spike noted her evident embarrassment. The blush made her even more adorable. Eyes locked, each taking shallow breaths. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he studied the scene before him. An open fire, an almost naked Buffy and a blanket. His blanket. His blanket which she had been rubbing her face into while she... He groaned, low and deep. He couldn’t help it. His cock jumped, straining against the zipper of his pants as his eyes travelled up her legs, her partially obscured body and her mussed up hair falling in loose waves over her face. She had twisted to face him, her breasts bared to him but shielded by shadows. He licked his lips at the sight, thinking of how her nipples would feel on his tongue, how the weight of her breasts would feel resting in his hands. She realised his eyes had dropped and squeaked when she realised she was exposed to his stare, gathering the blanket around her tighter.
“Bit late for modesty, love.” He stepped into the room, each step slow and purposeful.
She sat up, hunching her limbs together and pulling the cover up around her neck. “Why are you here?” Her voice was low and quivering. He had to leave, he shouldn’t be seeing her like this – so broken, so useless.
“To make some apologies of my own.” He crouched next to her, his eyes levelling with hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to speak.” He brushed his hand through her hair, sighing. “I’m sorry that I told you to leave.” He rubbed the thumb of his other hand across her swollen lips. She leaned her head into his touch, enjoying the soft caresses. Her eyes flickered shut as he traced the contours of her face. His other hand moved from her hair, down her neck, softly outlining her shoulder blade. He slowly pulled at the blanket revealing more of her smooth tanned skin.
Her eyes snapped open then, filled with hesitation, fear and renewed embarrassment.
“Hush, love.”
“No, we – I can’t.”
He studied her carefully, trying not to let the weight of her words crush his heart once more. He had overreacted last time and look where that had gotten him. Granted, she was half-naked in front of him but it was still far from a happy-ever-after scenario. He cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face towards the light of the fire. His fingers traced the tear tracks on her flushed cheeks and he tilted his head again, this time in question.
“I can’t, I couldn’t…” This time, her voice was barely audible. A hoarse whisper. Her eyes lowered, her body trembling under his close scrutiny.
He looked at her, still bewildered at what she was trying to tell him. “Pet, I know you lost your words before and I could bloody kick myself for losing it with you. I didn’t mean to shout, I just thought you were blowing me out. Again. I mean, you’ve done it before and to be honest, I don’t think I could take it again – not after we kissed and we…” Another tear slipped down her cheek and rolled onto his thumb. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just came to finish off what we started.”
She looked up at him then and he would swear that if it has heart had been beating it would have stopped right then. He didn’t know what she was going to say next but her mouth was moving and words were forming and all he could hear was static echoing in his ears. Please don’t kill me, love. He silently pleaded to all the gods he could think of, despite the fact he had turned his back on them all long ago.
“Spike, I couldn’t…” Her eyes met his, unwavering. Defiant but vulnerable.
Another wave of her scent teased his nose as he fought to keep his composure. Then it hit him like a train. She had come home and found herself needing comfort… and had found his blanket, using it as a way to bring herself… but she hadn’t been able to. She couldn’t. He swallowed hard. The scene before him took on a whole new colour. He had thought that she had merely been frustrated by their encounter and her pleasuring herself had been a way of releasing the tension that had built between them earlier that night.
“I couldn’t go to sleep because I knew I would dream of you. So I lay awake and all I could do was think of you. And I needed you so badly, Spike, I tried to feel how you made me feel before in the graveyard… but I couldn’t… it wasn’t enough.” She blinked at him, eyes shimmering with yet more tears. “And I can’t have you, Spike. I can’t let myself have you if all you are going to do is leave me. I can’t let myself feel you if I’m going to wake up one day and you’ll be gone.”
His lungs constricted as he absorbed the words that fell from her mouth. If he had needed oxygen, he might well have been hyperventilating about now. His jaw had dropped open as he fought to process her speech. God help him if this is what happened to him when she found her words. She wanted him. She needed him. She longed for him for Christ’s sake. But the reason she had been keeping him at bay was her fear. Her fear that he would be like the others, Captain Cardboard and the poofter. Not to mention that pimply freshman, Parker. He gave himself a mental headslap. William the Bloody, never much of a thinker.
This time, it was his silence that hung between them. Taking it as acceptance, she moved to stand. She had to get as far away from as possible. Whoever said that confession was good for the soul was a liar. The humiliation and the mortification of admitting her feelings to Spike was enough to make her want to hide. Forever.
Before she could gain her balance, a hand clamped around her wrist.
“Oh no. No more running for you.” He gave a sharp tug and pulled her back down until she was half lay in front of him. She was mad now, her chest heaving as she fought against his grip. He opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind but the flash of rage behind her eyes along with her scantily clad body, now almost fully bared to him after he had unceremoniously yanked her back to the floor, served as too much of a distraction. He was sick of words and trying to find the right ones. They only got misunderstood. Tonight had proven to him that the age old adage might be well true. Actions speak louder.
Her eyes searched his as he gaped at her, panting. What was left to say? There were no words left.
It was the first time they had been in agreement all night.
He leaned forward, so close that he could feel her breath on his lips. He was consumed with the pleasure of her sheer proximity. It was almost too late. He communicated his emotions to her with his eyes, so full of emotion, an unspoken askance of permission to continue. He couldn’t continue if she wasn’t going to be right there with him. He released her wrist. If she truly couldn’t give herself to him then he couldn’t make her. But with every fibre of his being he hoped that she would.
She looked down, her anger subsiding. Free. Automatically, she went to reach for the blanket. He moved back slightly, waiting for her to shield herself from him once again. But instead, she tugged it from underneath her and tossed it to the side, exposing the full length of her body to him. He gasped as she stretched out in front of him, lifting her hand to the back of his neck drawing him closer. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. Before he could suppress it, a growl rumbled in his chest. Permission granted.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Please review :) All the ones I've received so far have been lovely and are the very reason that I have stayed up to complete this chapter, even though I have work in the morning. Grr. I hate Sunday's. Review and make my Monday a bit brighter!!