Buffy Summers slammed her front door closed so hard that the glass shook in its frames.
She threw the sword she had been carrying into the living room, not paying attention to where it landed and therefore did not notice when it thunked into the wood of the fire surround.
She stomped upstairs, her boots echoing eerily in the empty house. Buffy paused on the stairs, wondering why it was so quiet in her house.
When she was dead, her best friend Willow Rosenberg, and Willow’s girlfriend, Tara Mclay, had moved into the house on Revello Drive to look after Buffy’s sister, Dawn. It had never occurred to anyone for them to move out again after Buffy was brought back.
With her house usually so bustling with people, Xander and Anya were normal here as well, Buffy wondered where everyone was.
But as she looked down at her shirt, she remembered. The latest big evil had hit Sunnydale, and it was of course up to the Slayer, Buffy, to deal with it.
Xander had invited Dawn to stay at his apartment for the night, bribing her with various movies, board games, ice cream and pop corn. With so many tempting treats on offer, and knowing that Buffy needed no assistance, Willow had joined in the impromptu slumber party.
Buffy had been glad when the red head and decided to tag along. Ever since her relationship with Tara had ended, Willow had been less than her usual self.
Now, as she finished climbing the stairs, Buffy relished in having her house all to herself for the night. Ever since her friends had torn her out of heaven, she wasn’t really one for crowds.
Without bothering to undo the buttons, Buffy tore off her black shirt, and threw it against the wall as she headed for the bathroom. The blood soaked cloth hit the wall with a wet fwap, and started to slide towards the carpet, leaving a glistening red trail in its wake.
None of the blood belonged the Slayer herself. It was from the demon that had bled out on top of her where it collapsed after she had stabbed it in the chest.
She was just about to close the bathroom door, when the front door opened and slammed closed again, and his voice floated through the house.
“Buffy? Love, are you here?”
She sighed loudly and left the bathroom, crossing the hall to her own room. He would find her even without her saying anything.
Sure enough, within a few seconds, she could here him climbing the stairs, and then he was outside her door.
“You okay, pet?”
She gave a bitter laugh as she crossed to the window, looking out at the darkened street below.
“I am so far from okay, it’s not even funny.”
Spike stepped into her room proper, but stayed as far away from her as the confines would allow.
“Wasn’t your fault he was there, pet. You couldn’ta done anything.”
She laughed again. “Spike, that boy died because I was too slow. Because I wasn’t fast enough to stop the demon.”
Spike cocked his head and looked at her where she stood, still looking out the window.
“This isn’t the first time a kid has been killed in this town, love. What makes this one different? You didn’t know him, did you?”
Buffy shook her head. “No, I didn’t know him. I just…” she sighed again. “I don’t know. I…I never know anything.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and finally realized that she was wearing nothing but the lacy black bra that had been under her shirt. She should have run to the closet and put something on, God knew she wanted to.
Spike had seen her a lot more naked than this, and on more than one occasion, but she hoped that the presence of the demon blood she was covered in would stem any urges the vampire was feeling.
“You still thinking that you came back wrong?” Spike shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you, love. Maybe there’s something wrong with the chip, maybe that’s why I can hurt you.”
Buffy laughed again. “We both know it’s not that. You said so yourself, Spike. I came back wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong about you, love.”
Spike voice seemed closer now, and Buffy wanted to see where he was.
When she turned, her eyes were level with his chest. He had been standing right behind her.
“You sneaking up on me without my noticing seems evident to the contrary.”
“You just tired after the fight.”
“I’m not tired.”
When Buffy tilted her head up to look at him, she hadn’t realized that he was looking down at her, and now their lips were less than an inch apart.
Both vampire and Slayer froze, each waiting to see who would be the one to close that final distance.
It shocked them both when Buffy became that one.
She stood on tiptoe to close the space between them, and pressed her lips against his.
But he broke the kiss before it grew into what she was looking for, and she gave a small cry of protest.
“Not here, love. Dawn will be-”
She cut him off as she turned to face him fully. “Dawn will be at Xander’s all night. And so will Willow.”
“I wasn’t talking about the Li’l Bit.”
She looked back out the window and sensed that sunrise was still a few hours away. Looking back at him, she gave him a seductive smile. “I don’t care.”
Grabbing the labels of his leather duster, she pulled him back down to her level, and kissed him again.
This time, the kiss was what she had been looking for, full of probing tongues, both of them desperate for what the other provided.
Buffy pulled his coat down past his shoulders and he assisted her by shrugging out of it, letting it fall to the floor, forgotten until they were finished.
Pressing his mouth against hers, he groaned when she bit down on his lower lip. It was a new thing she had discovered, something she knew he enjoyed. She tugged at his black T-shirt, untucking it from the waistband of his black jeans, and pulled away from him, just for the time it took for her to get his T-shirt over his head, then she was back on him, the shirt discarded like the coat.
Not used to the passion that Buffy was showing, Spike finally allowed himself to join in the fun, letting his hands run over the smooth body he had come to know so well over the past months.
He pulled her to him with such force that she stumbled and he had to hold her to him, to keep from falling to her knees.
'Second thoughts, maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.'
Instead, he picked her up in his arms, his hands under her butt, and carried her to her bed.
Laying her down, he kneeled above her, and looked down at the woman he loved more than he thought was possible, and imagined all the things they had done together, down in his crypt and in the abandoned house that had bore witness to their first night together.
But as he looked into her green eyes, Spike knew that there was something about tonight that was different.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something in her eyes that told him that tonight would be the night that things between them changed.
“Spike…” she whispered, her voice full of need, and wanting. Wanting of him.
He put all thoughts of change out of his mind as he worked at the buckle of her belt, then at the zipper of her black leather pants. They flew in the direction of his shirt, and he was left gazing at his girl as she wore nothing but the black bra and the thong that matched.
He didn’t even bother to slide the lacy piece of underwear down her milky thighs. Instead, he tore at the satin with his teeth, until the material snapped and fell away, leaving her exposed and beautiful before him.
Spike kissed that delicate area, then worked his way up her body, kissing his way up her flesh, and over more black satin, pausing for just a moment, to suck at her nipples through the bra. Then he was past her breasts, and her chest, and back to her full beautiful lips.
He kissed her again, as she writhed beneath his touch, his lips exploring her mouth the way he had done a thousand times before.
She opened her legs for him, and he slid between her, knowing what she was expecting.
She reached down on him, her hand sliding over his crotch, where he was stretched hard against the tight fabric.
He shivered under her touch, but he batted her hand away as she began to work at the zipper of his jeans. If there was something different about tonight, then Spike wasn’t going to let it finish so quickly.
He pulled her hands away as they tried again for his zipper, and held them above her head, as he rubbed himself against her, as if he was already inside.
Buffy groaned, both with the pleasure he was causing her, and with desire of wanting more.
She closed her eyes with intensity as he grinded his body against hers, rubbing the hard material across her. He knew it must have been hurting her in some way, but the look on her face told him she didn’t care.
He kissed her again, and positioned her wrists, so that he could hold both with one hand.
With the other hand, he pushed her blonde hair away from her face, so that he could see her clearly.
He slid his hand down the length of her body, tearing her bra away in one swift movement, cupping her breast, running his thumb across her nipple, making her cry out.
He continued down the smoothness of her skin, past her hip, and came to rest on the top of her thigh, just at the point of where her buttocks began.
He moved away from her mouth, to kiss along her cheek and down her neck, licking at her pulse, beating just below the surface.
When he was sure that she wasn’t expecting it, he moved back from her, so that he was on his knees before her again, and slid two fingers inside her.
He watched with a wicked smile as her eyes flew open with surprise and other feelings as he worked at her. She turned to look at him, that look in her eyes again that told him everything and nothing at the same time.
He leaned forward to kiss her, watching as she closed her eyes, then opened them again when she realized that his fingers and tongue where in perfect sync, both working together to bring her to that wonderful place.
When he had worked her to her peak, she screamed her orgasm into his mouth, but he always liked to hear her scream, so he tore his mouth away from her, and listened as she screamed her release. The fact that they were in her room, in her own house, only added to his own excitement.
Still inside her, he stilled his fingers as best he could and waited until she had finished, until she had settled before him once more.
She smiled at him. “You’ve never brought me like that before.”
Spike grinned. “Thanks for the compliment, but the ride isn’t over.”
He flexed his fingers again, and again, she writhed for him, her body tightening.
Just at the point of where he would bring her again, Spike pulled out.
This time, when she looked at him, Buffy’s eyes were unfocused, lost to the pleasure.
It took her three tries before she found her voice. “No more games. Please, Spike. Please, just…oh, God.”
She moaned with excitement and pleasure.
Happy to oblige, Spike let go of her wrists, and her hands went straight to his fly, finally managing to unzip his jeans, and he spilled out into her hands. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his pants, and suddenly he was as naked as she was.
She held onto his shaft, until she was sure he was ready. He gave a quivering laugh and she let go, laying back on the bed, waiting for what was to come.
He didn’t make her wait for long, as he plunged inside her. She was tight, even after the foreplay. She always was. He worked at her, moving in and out of her three times before he made himself enough room and he found his rhythm.
His body moved above her like he was dancing, rhythmically pounding her, and making her make noises she didn’t even know she could make.
Although she never said it, something about the way Buffy moved for him made Spike wonder if he was the best she’d ever had. He knew she’d only spent one night with Angel, and somehow he doubted that Captain Cardboard had his experience at pleasing women.
He grinned as she reached up to grab hold of the headboard above her, gripping it so hard the metal bent and twisted under her hand.
Spike increased his rhythm until the Slayer started screaming again, getting close to that point once again. He knew the point when it took hold of her completely. She looked up at him with glassy eyes, staring at him as if she had just realized it was him.
He used to wonder, back when they had first started with this little thing they had, who she was seeing when she looked at him with those eyes, who she was seeing as she rode that wave.
But lately, he knew exactly who she was seeing. He didn’t know what had changed, but now, when he brought her to orgasm, the only person Buffy Summers was seeing was him, Spike. There was something uniquely satisfying about that.
She cried out again, and Spike realized that he had been too busy thinking to realize that he had brought her again.
Smiling to himself, he didn’t see Buffy’s hand reach between his legs, to touch that spot just behind his testicles. Spike shivered and it was her turn to smile, even as another orgasm hit her.
She ran her fingers ever so lightly over that spot, and Spike knew that they had been together for far too long, when she knew exactly the spot to touch, the spot that would make him loose his rhythm.
She screamed his name one final time.
“God, SPIKE! Please! PLEASE!”
He granted her request.
With one last thrust, his shaft bumping the end of her body, he brought them both, their juices mingling as
Buffy collapsed back onto the bed, completely spent.
He fell on top of her, his lips, as always, landing on her breast. He gave her left breast one last kiss before he rolled himself off of her to collapse beside her.
Both of them were breathing heavily, and, as always happened after one of their bedroom sessions, both were unable to talk for several minutes.
“At least we made it to the bed this time,” Buffy said finally.
Spike laughed. “Good for us, bad for the bed.”
Buffy turned on her side to look at him. “Thank you. I really needed that.”
Shocked, Spike moved back slightly so that he could see her clearly. “Wait, you’re thanking me?” he shook his head. “You really are different tonight, aren’t you.”
Rolling her eyes, Buffy pushed him further away, and rolled off the bed. “I’m gonna take a shower. Feel free to let yourself out.”
He let her get as far as the door before he pounced on her, turning her to slam her against the wall.
“You sure you want it to be over that quickly, love?”
Buffy glared at him, anger lighting up her eyes. “Spike, I don’t have time for any of your games right…” She trailed off as he ran his hand over her opening, but not inside. She closed her eyes and tried to fight off the feeling.
“What was that you were saying, Slayer?”
With her back still against the wall, Buffy looked up at him through her thick lashes.
And then she disappeared.
Spike didn’t know what had happened, she moved so fast. And then he felt her take hold of him, wrapping her hands around the length of him.
“I think it’s time I had some fun.” Still holding onto him,
Buffy wrapped her mouth around his shaft, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could, before pulling back and starting all over again.
Spike’s eyelids fluttered and he had to steady himself against the wall. She had gotten good at this in the last few months.
Buffy rolled her eyes up to look at him, and smiled, as she worked her mouth over him again, this time, biting down slightly as she slid her mouth back up.
He knew she enjoyed the noises he made when she did this.
But he was already excited. If Buffy kept working him, he was going to come here and now, and they had learned once that that was not one of Buffy’s favorite experiences.
When she had worked her way back to the tip of him, he pulled her away by her hair, and she looked up at him, puzzled.
“Not really ready for it to be over just yet.”
She nodded her head, but gave him one last squeeze before she allowed him to pull her back to her feet.
When he kissed her, it was her tongue that forced its way into his mouth, and he picked her up again, ready to carry her back to the bed.
But she wrapped her legs around his waist, reminiscent of their first time, locking her heels together at the small of his back. Her arms around his shoulders, she pulled herself up far enough to slide over him.
Spike took a sharp intake of breath, and she gazed into those blue eyes.
“Like I said, it’s my turn to have some fun.”
He shook his head. “I can’t hold you.”
Buffy grinned as his legs buckled and he guided her back towards the wall, willing to use that for support.
Before he had taken more than a step, Buffy flexed herself over him, using his body as her support, moving over him, making his eyes loose their focus.
His legs lost the battle to hold him and he fell to his knees, just the way she wanted.
With Spike sitting on his knees and Buffy straddling him, the angle was deeper, sharper somehow.
Her eyes never left his as she began to sway above him, her hips moving for him, and for herself.
Looking into those blue eyes as she moved above him, Buffy could feel the start of her first orgasm of this session. But she also felt something else, something she never expected to feel for Spike.
As she rode him, she could feel him inside her, deep inside, as if he had grown impossibly long and was touching things no one should have been able to touch.
As she crested that wave and that first brightness sparked across her vision, Buffy wanted to put voice to the words she had just realized were true.
“Spike,” she gasped as she reached her peak.
“Buffy,” he breathed against her breasts.
Her hips were loosing their rhythm as she screamed his name again.
“Spike! I love-”
Buffy Summers woke up, tears in her eyes.
She looked around her cold room, at her empty bed.
Spike was gone, having sacrificed himself to save the world. He never knew that her last words to him were true.
She finished the sentence her dream self had started.
“Spike, I love you.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Porn with a tiny bit of plot