Handle me.
“Do you know what your bleedin’ problem is, Slayer?” Spike snapped derisively.
“As it happens yes, I do. It’s you,” Buffy replied snidely, pushing passed him to reach the bar.
He followed her, snorting, “No…I’m not your problem, pet but I’d be your solution.”
She ignored him and fought her way to the front of the crowd pressing against the bar. Quickly, she caught the barman’s attention and ordered herself a drink.
It didn’t escape Spike’s notice that the barman honed straight in on the Slayer, but then she was flashing enough tit to attract the entire staff, and it annoyed the piss out of him that she was here at the Bronze dressed like a teenage tease and obviously looking to pick someone up.
He shouldered his way in to stand next to her, growling at some college guy who thought he’d try his luck and sidle up to her. One look at Spike’s ‘fuck off’ face and the college guy lost interest.
As the guy retreated, Buffy glared at Spike. “Will you just get the hell away from me, or do I have to dust your sorry ass to get you to leave me alone?” she snapped loudly. “Coz you know I will.”
“Oh, please! Like you really want to be alone dressed like that!” he jeered, letting his eyes slide easily over her tight young body.
She was just about to reply when the barman placed her drink in front of her. She smiled warmly at him and was rewarded with a flirty wink. Spike fumed next to her.
She knew he was annoyed, but so what? Who cared? Certainly not her. She just wanted to get rid of the bleached freak quickly so she could get down to the business of hooking up with someone else. She struggled to think of a suitable way to shake him loose. If she didn’t get rid of him soon, he was going to cramp her style and scare off the potential hotties.
The flirty barman moved down the line of demanding patrons. Her smile slipped and she turned to the irritating blond beside her. “Yes I do, Spike…I want to be alone with all these other people,” she informed him. “Haven’t you got anything better to do than shadow me? Isn’t there a Passions marathon running this weekend? Shouldn’t you be sucking on a pint of piggy and sweating over bad plot back at your crypt?”
He hissed and glared at her through narrowed lids. “Fuckin’ bitchy bint!” He grabbed her hand just as she was about to take a drink from her glass, sloshing the contents over the rim and down her hand, effectively wiping the antagonizing smile off her pretty face.
Getting really mad now, Buffy yanked her arm out of his grip and slammed what was left of her drink back on the bar. Shoving him, she spun away and flounced off.
Seething, Spike followed. She made her way to the dance floor and smoothly slipped in amongst the heaving mass of gyrating bodies.
He stood at the edge of the dance floor watching her through dangerously narrowed eyes. Growling each time she moved against a male body or smiled at some tosser. She knew he was watching. She was putting on a show for him…trying to make a point by twisting and rubbing against every guy that was on the floor with her. Bitch! He lost sight of her as the sea of bodies swallowed her up.
What is she doing? She must be out of her bleedin’ blonde head if she thinks I’m going to put up with this shit.
He moved back and climbed the stairs to find a prime spot on the balcony to watch her. She was acting like a slut! Pressing her half dressed body against everyone who sandwiched her in, shooting dirty looks at the guys–laughing over enthusiastically.
Horny slut! He thought. Gotta get me some of that. He saw her glance over at the spot where he’d been standing. She frowned when she didn’t see him and he smirked when the guy she was dancing with lost her attention as she scanned the area for him. Yes pet, I know you’re thinking about me.
Not finding him on the ground floor, her eyes quickly swept up towards the balcony. He pulled back into the shadows and her eyes glided right over him without seeing him. She thought he’d left. Staying half in the concealing dark, Spike continued to watch her.
He had a good idea what this was all about. Pansy, soldier boy!
When he’d first caught sight of her as she walked through the doors of the Bronze, dressed in chilly pepper red and looking twice as hot, he’d been sitting minding his own business, drinking imported beer and tucking into a plate of wings. One look at her in those red leather pants and the equally red top she was spilling out of and he was rock hard and throbbing for it. Dropping the wing he’d been eating, he’d stared at her. Bloody hell, but she looks shaggable!
And he wasn’t the only bloke who thought so. They were like bees on pollen and swarming to her. Well he couldn’t have that, so he followed her, growling, snarling and glaring at every Joe, who thought he had half a chance. But he was obviously the last guy she wanted hanging around and she’d been her usual bitchy self, antagonizing and ridiculing him with a practiced finesse that was sharper than any stake she’d ever wielded. Spike sometimes thought getting staked would be less painful than the barbs she hit him with. Bloody love’s bitch as always.
Her ass looked like a rosy apple encased in that red leather. Spike was still hungry and a big bite of succulent apple was just what he fancied. He was sick of this charade. Soldier boy was gone and she’d been acting like a Hell’s bitch towards him ever since. He fumed and seethed over recent events. That nasty stunt in the alley, tossing that money at him and coldly telling him he was beneath her. That still chafed.
She was acting like a bitch in heat, but if she would just give him a second look... Under the cover of darkness, Spike adjusted his throbbing bulge in the confines of his jeans. Watching her bump and grind on the dance floor was fraying his very last nerve. He couldn’t stomach any more. Angry, he came to a quick decision and turned to leave. A short detour to Willy’s to purchase a bottle of brew and a trip home to fix a couple of things at the crypt and he’d be all prepared.
*****
When she emerged from the Bronze with a tall, good looking guy plastered all over her, Spike was waiting. He followed closely, smirking at her unsteady gait. He watched her wobble and sway as the guy tried to lead her to his car. Spike chuckled to himself. The up-tight Slayer was plastered too! Well that would work in his favour.
Dose she really think she’s going home with this pretty boy? Taking both of them by surprise, Spike stepped out in front of them. They jumped, gasping breathlessly.
He laughed at the surprised expression on their faces. And he laughed even louder when he flashed his demon at the boy, who screamed like a girl before fainting dead away. “Pansy ass,” Spike muttered derisively, chuckling and pleased with himself for managing to get rid of the competition so effectively.
Buffy tethered unsteadily on drunken legs, glaring at the boy at her feet.
“What’ss the matter with you? It’ss only, Spikie,” she slurred at the boy.
Spike chuckled.
Angrily, Buffy skittered backward, dangerously stumbling about as her head shot up too quickly when she tried to fix her glare on Spike, her arms comically pin-wheeling as she tried to steady herself.
Bloody Hell, how many has she had?
“Look what you did…ssstupid vampire,” she hissed. “That’ss my date you juss sscared. You’re gonna pay for that.”
She staggered forward, swinging at him with her fists. But with as little control over her legs as she had, she was stumbling backward rather than forward.
Sickened, Spike couldn’t bare to watch the spectacle she was making of herself and still wearing his demon, he balled his hand into a fist and hit her hard in the face.
Blinding pain gripped him…gripped him and tore him apart, frying his brain with such indescribable heat that he thought his head was going to liquefy.
When it began to recede and his vision returned, he noted with satisfaction that the Slayer was sprawled on the ground over the boy. Out cold!
Hoisting her up, he slung her over his shoulder and set off with her to his car. The boy he left where he was, and Spike really hoped some lucky vamp found him.
*****
Spike took a full sixty seconds to admire her all trussed up. She looked something else chained and hanging from the ceiling, but now that he’d finished securing her it was time to wake her up. Smiling, he lifted a bucket of cold water and threw the lot over her.
She screamed and spluttered, blinking rapidly and thrashing in the bonds. “What the Hell?” she gargled, shaking herself like a wet dog, trying to rid herself of the worst of the water.
He chuckled at the comic routine and had to admire her all over again as her pebbled nipples became visible through the wet fabric of her blood red top. No bra!
“Wakey, wakey, Slayer…” he sing-songed, his gaze still locked to her wet top and the clear define of her boobs.
Finding something to finally focus on, Buff’s head whipped round and she scowled at him. Pulling on the chains that held her, she thrashed and panted, “You bastard…let me go!” She shook her head, trying to clear it of the lingering alcohol. Quickly, she licked her dry lips in an effort to dislodge the sour taste in her mouth.
“I’m thinking–No!” he replied dryly.
“If you don’t let me go I’ll–I’ll…” she spluttered. Nervously, she took in her situation. She was in Spike’s crypt…in the lower level, chains held her around her wrists and ankles…and since he’d doused her with a bucket of freezing water, her blouse was clinging to her. Cringing, she realized Spike was fully aware just how visible her breasts were in her now very see-through top. She flushed indignantly.
He laughed. “You’ll what, luv? Stake me? That’s gonna be hard from where you are, and there’s no point you trying to break those chains–they’re enchanted.”
She continued to test the chains, rattling them angrily. “I might not be able to stake you now, but it’s the first thing I’m gonna do when I get out of here,” she raged.
Spike smiled at her. He could see she was beginning to shiver and he caught the first faint traces of her fear as she realized she couldn’t break the chains.
“Then it looks as if I’ll be leaving town before that happens.” He moved to stand close behind her and flicked his tongue over her ear. She cringed away from him. “But don’t worry, I’ll give the Watcher a call to let him know where to find you first,” he whispered.
She was panting and glaring at him as he came to stand in front of her again. Her eyes were full of loathing and anger.
He smirked at her heaving chest. Her breasts were pulled high with the force of the chain that had her arms stretched up towards the ceiling. He glanced at her feet, braced slightly apart and cuffed to a short chain fixed to the stone floor. She was at his complete mercy.
“Do you know what your problem is, Slayer?” he asked. It was the same question he’d asked her earlier.
She rolled her eyes and heaved a tortured sigh. ”Didn’t we have this conversation already?” she mumbled under her breath. Then looking at him she said, “And I suppose you think you’re qualified to tell me?”
He grinned at her as he reached out and trailed a finger around a pert nipple. She gasped and flinched back, her eyes going wide at his daring action.
“More than qualified, pet.” He pinched the nipple gently, watching in fascination as it reacted to his touch. “Your problem is you need a good rough seeing to, which is something I’m willing to bet that neither soldier boy nor Angel ever did for you. Not that that surprises me–neither of them were able to handle you.”
“What did you say?” she snapped. “Handle me!” Buffy tried to hide her extreme anger, but she wasn’t very successful. She pinned him with a heated gaze. “Just who in the hell do you think I am? Demented Dru or hare-brained Harmony? I’m the Slayer! No one…but no one handles me!” she choked.
“Exactly my point, Slayer! None of the blokes in your life were fit to handle you the way you need to be handled. Lucky for you that I’ve stuck around long enough for you to exhaust yourself on pansy assed boys and broody wankers.”
“Riley was not a pansy ass…” She paused thoughtfully for a second. “Well, okay, maybe he was–but Angel’s not a wanker,” she snapped defensively.
He chuckled. “Sure he is, pet…unless of course he’s sticking it to the cheerleader these days just to get a little light relief, which I doubt, coz he’d never live with the guilt. No, Buffy you can be sure Angel is wacking off on a daily bases…brooding his sorry existence away. And as for soldier boy! Well, he’s only been gone five minutes and you’re already tarting up and trawling for a replacement to fill his inadequate ass.” Unable to resist her luscious curves any longer, Spike reached forward and fondled her breasts through the damp fabric of her blouse, rubbing his thumb repeatedly over her taut nipples.
“Shut your mouth, Spike, and WHAT! Do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. That last comment was a bit too close to the truth and his hands were having a terribly shocking effect on her awareness.
“Now, now, pet…none of that.” He smirked and arched a brow. “We’re only chatting for now and I should’ve thought it was bloody obvious what I was doing. You know me, Slayer, I like to keep my hands busy especially when I’m edgy and you hate it when I smoke in your exulted presence. A guy’s gotta have something to do with his restless hands,” he whispered, pinching and kneading her breasts and nipples by turn.
He could hear her heart beating…the blood rushing through her veins. She might be protesting now, but a part of her liked it. “Of course if you really want me to stop…I can always find something else to do with my hands.”
“I am SO going to kill you–you bleached, fangless freak!” she ground out. She tried to twist out of his hands but only succeeded in aiding him in his fondling. Annoyed, she glared at him.
He shook his head, smiling. “Not fangless, pet,” he said softly.
Immediately, she stopped struggling against the chains and held very still, alert to his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She didn’t like the way he was looking at her neck. “Stop trying to scare me, Spike…it won’t work. We both know you can’t hurt a human without the chip exploding, and I saw it zap you with my own eyes when you hit me earlier. If you hadn’t surprised me with that lucky punch, I would’ve kicked your ass and I still will when I–”
His laugh cut her off. “Surprised you with a lucky punch! Oh, that’s bleedin’ rich. You were drunk off your ass and looking like a gin soaked light-skirt to boot–Xander could’ve dropped you.”
“I was not drunk…I–I was just a bit tipsy,” she wailed, licking still dry lips and trying to work some moisture into her fuzzy mouth.
“You were stinking drunk!” he stated. “But what surprises me, is why you’re not wondering why you’re still not drunk,” he said, gazing at her quizzically.
She looked at him as if he were stupid. “Well duh, dumb ass…if I had been drunk–which I wasn’t–then I guess I must have slept it off,” she hissed.
“Not in an hour you wouldn’t have, pet.” He smiled craftily.
Frowning, Buffy twisted her neck up and glanced at her wrist watch. She was surprised to see how early it was. Then she wondered why she wasn’t still feeling the effects of the all alcohol she’d drunk. There’d certainly been enough of it, and at the time she’d needed every drop of it to help fortify her courage to leave with that guy.
God! She couldn’t even remember his name now. But he’d been good looking and she’d been desperate. She’d only drunk to help her relax. Shamefully, she realized that by the time she was ready to leave the Bronze, she’d been so relaxed she’d even let him stick his hand down her top. Something she’d never have done under normal circumstances. But after weeks of total and frustrating sexual abstinence, she was ready to do the first guy who dropped in her lap. Riley was gone…Angel was gone and even that sleazy dick-head Parker hadn’t wanted to stick around. So she’d finally figured it out–she was going to be the one to do the leaving in the future. She didn’t need some long haul guy or a flowery romance. She was the Slayer, she could be dead tomorrow. So all things considered, it was probably best to just live in the moment, or even for the moment. She was a modern woman, she could do anonymous sex. It didn’t have to be about anything deeper than wanting a few hours of sweaty satisfaction. So going against her previously stringent rules on acceptable behavior, she’d said ‘screw morals’ and donned her red leather pants and freed the inner slut. And she’d been so close to getting what she needed too. But then Spike had stuck his stupid annoying nose in and scared off the pony. She was gonna make him pay for that. Just as soon as she got out of these chains.
Lost in her angry thoughts, Buffy suddenly refocused on the biggest annoyance of her short life. The blond freak was smirking at her–and what was he holding in his hand?
“What’s that?” she asked staring at the small bottle he was gingerly holding between a finger and thumb.
“This, Slayer is my long sought after retribution,” he told her smugly.
“Huh?”
He was smiling and frowning by turn. “You see…I’ve had a lot of time on my hands to do some serious thinking. And I’ve come to the conclusion that since I had this chip shoved in my noggin, stopping me from hurting humans, I’ve had no choice but to resign myself to getting my jollies off with fellow demons.” He smiled at her and brushed a stray lock of damp hair away from her cheek. “Now don’t get me wrong, Slayer…I don’t mind that too much, coz I can still beat the crap out of any demon or shag any female vamp or human girl that takes my fancy. But what I’d really like to do is beat the crap out of you, fuck you silly and sink my fangs into your neck, which I can’t do because of this chip…or…if you’re human…”
He stood back and looked at her slowly, his eyes drifting over her as if she was some long lost treasure.
Buffy really didn’t like where this was going. Where was the punch line?
“But thanks to this…” he waved the bottle at her. “You’re no longer human.” He smiled softly at her and added, “Is there by any chance a strange taste in your mouth, Slayer?”
Fear slammed into her. She swallowed back on the sour taste that had been there since he’d so rudely woken her. She stared at the bottle. “What have you done, Spike?” she whispered horrified.
He chuckled. “Given you a potion to make you just a little less human, pet,” he told her calmly. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Something that brings you more down to my level, thus enabling us to have a little fun.” Grinning, he tossed the bottle away and suddenly grabbed her hips to grind against her lewdly.
“Are you NUTS? You disgusting…evil…sick pig…get your hands and body parts off me…” she was getting a bit frantic. Worried that the potion he’d given her might have horrible side effects or worse–be permanent. “What have you done to me?” she demanded angrily.
Spike laughed sardonically. “I told you…I gave you a potion to make you a little less human so we can have some fun.” He rolled his eyes at her look of horror. “Oh, don’t get a knot in your thong, it’s only a magical cocktail, quite harmless really–it’ll wear off in a day, maybe two if I’m lucky, but until it does your ass is mine, Slayer–literally, and can I say what a nice ass it is too.” Grinning at her, he squeezed her butt cheeks and thrust against her, groaning happily. “Oh, baby I’m gonna start with this delectable ass of yours and finish with it,” he promised her, smirking dirtily.
An unaccustomed heat flared in her belly, but stubbornly Buffy ignored it. “You bastard I’ll kill you slowly for this–you pathetic freak–y-you disgust me,” she panted, futilely trying to dislodge him.
“Liar, liar pants on fire,” he mocked. “I turn you on something rotten, not that you’ll let your-uptight-self admit it. But fortunately for me, I don’t need you to admit how much I turn you on–I can smell it, sweetheart.”
She opened her mouth to refute him, but he stalled her.
He gripped her chin firmly in his hand and jerked her face up to his. Their eyes locked and a powerfully message leapt between them. Buffy struggled to still the sudden restlessness that stirred her body. Her nipples tingled where he rubbed against her and her thighs grew heavy and tense. She became horribly aware of a spreading warmth at the juncture of her legs and a slow deep throb started to pulse through her.
Spike gazed into her eyes. “I see it in your eyes, Buffy…that blazing fire you’ve always held in check with others, all because you were afraid it would frighten them off if they got a look at the real you. And even though you always acted like a good girl with all of them, they still left. They weren’t good enough for you…you couldn’t even be yourself with them.” He stared at her earnestly, breathing hard with the effort to suppress his desires. “They were the ones who were lacking, not you. There wasn’t enough monster in soldier boy for you, and Angelus wasn’t enough of a man for you. But lucky you…coz you got me and I’m enough man and monster to handle all of you.”
Stunned, she stared back at him. “You are a grade A, arrogant son-of-a-bitch!”
He ignored her jibe. “How many more brooding wankers and pansy boys are you willing to let into your bed before you admit you want me?” he asked, grinding his crotch against hers.
Buffy was frozen immobile. Her mind numb as she listened to him. Her body wouldn’t respond the way she wanted it to…it was urging her to something she thought she really shouldn’t want. Him! “Why you–”
He cut her off sharply, “You were acting like a slut this evening…flashing your tits and sashaying your tight ass at every bloke in the Bronze. Looking for a fit body and a hard cock…isn’t that right, Buffy?”
She didn’t answer. He saw the pulse pounding in her throat.
“Cat got your tongue, pet? I know I’m right. But you were wasting your time with that pretty boy…he wouldn’t have been up to the task of handling you.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips, whispering huskily, “But I know how to handle you, pet…handle you good. So here you are, Buffy–one fit body with a very hard cock attached, and they’re all yours. The thing is, pet are you able to handle me?” he challenged.
He was gazing at her, waiting for an answer.
Unsure of herself now, Buffy answered hesitantly, “I told you…no one handles me and you’re the last person I’d want to handle,” she told him weakly.
“You mean I’d be too much for you?” Arching a dark brow at her, he chuckled. “What are you afraid of, Slayer? You need to learn to let that dark side of yours out to play once in a while.” He released her chin and quickly moved behind her. He gripped her hips and pressed his hardness against her ass, grinding slowly. She moaned and he leaned close to her ear. “What were going to do with the boy when you got him home? Let him take you in your sweet little girl bed? Or were you planning on something a bit more unconventional than a simple poke in the puss? I doubt he’d have been up for much more…he was drunk off his ass as well.”
He wasn’t surprised when he felt her push back. It was just fractionally, but it was enough to confirm his suspicions. She was trembling and breathing hard. He let his hands start to drift over her. She had a nice firm bum and he fit so snugly against the crevice. He cupped her breasts and groaned, they were just as he remembered them from when Red had done her ‘my will be done’ spell.
Buffy couldn’t help herself…she moaned, soft and low, but she knew he heard when he growled at her ear. She shivered as the sound flowed through her. “I-I’m sure I’d have managed,” she said breathing fast.
He kissed the side of her neck and slipped a hand between her legs, caressing her firmly. “No doubt you would have, pet. But I doubt his performance would have been memorable. Mine on the other hand will be spectacular…” She hissed as he pushed his fingers against the seam of her pants. “See, pet…I can handle you…” She moaned torturously and bucked against him.
He laughed loudly.
The sound of his mirth stirred her anger and she twisted on the chains, calling him foul names and yelling every threat and curse she could think of at him.
“Why, Slayer that’s a nasty mouth you’ve got there. I might have to fill it with something to stop your caterwauling.” He tweaked a puckered nipple and ground his fingers against her crotch. “Though it’s interesting how you’ve yet to actually tell me to stop. Is it possible that you don’t want me to stop–that you actually like the way I handle you, pet?”
That gave her pause, and she thought about what he’d said, struggling to recall if she had in fact told him to stop. But surely I did…didn’t I? Confused, she couldn’t think properly, his fingers felt so damn good, and her body felt as if he’d lit a small flame under her and was gradually turning up the heat.
“You keep making all these threats, pet, but you haven’t once said ‘stop’. Why is that?”
It was a damn good question. Pity she didn’t have an equally good answer for him. His fingers were writhing against her, pressing the tight seam of her leather pants against her clit, sending tiny jolts of sensation ricocheting in the depths of her needy core. She stilled and relaxed in the chains letting them hold her weight as she dropped her head back to rest against his shoulder, gasping and panting softly as he worked to bring her off.
Then unexpectedly, he pulled away from her. She cried out and looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes flashing angrily.
“Sorry, pet…were you enjoying that?” he cooed at her ear.
She glared at him but held her tongue.
“You’re a stubborn bint, Buffy someone should have beaten that particular trait out of you long ago.” He undid her pants and pushed them down over her hips to her knees, leaving her wearing a red thong with a little bow detail on the back. Saucy bow. Playfully, Spike pulled the bow away from her bum and let it snap back painfully.
She gave a little squeal of pain. Spike laughed at the idea of her being hurt by that little twang of elastic, and with a big grin on his face, he slapped her hard on the ass with the flat of his hand.
He took a moment to enjoy the sound of her indignant yelp and the total absence of pain in his head. And just at that very same moment, Buffy realized he wasn’t screaming in agony. Biting her lip, she anxiously gazed back at him.
From behind her he said, “Oh, don’t worry, baby, I don’t really want to hurt you,” he rubbed his hand over the smooth curve of her ass, cooling the heated area. “Much…”
Gripping the chain, she yelped and danced on her toes as a sharp smack landed on her rounded cheek. The sound rang loud against the stone walls of the crypt before echoing away. “That’s for being a bleedin’ stubborn bint.”
He slapped her again. “That’s for parading your red leather ass down at the Bronze like a dirty little slut.”
The next one landed just as sharply. “That one’s for flirting with the barman.”
One more, well aimed palm connected with her rapidly heating flesh. “And that’s for deliberately teasing me on the dance floor with all those other blokes.”
Yet another stinging slap slammed into her, making her gasp and jig on the points of her toes. “And that’s for picking up strange blokes.”
Slap… “And that’s for acting like a drunken prom date.”
Slap… “And that’s for being a total bitch to me.”
Slap… “And that’s for lying when you say I don’t turn you on and that you don’t want me.”
Slap… “And…” Slap… “And…” Slap… “And…”
Gasping and moaning, silent tears slipped down her face as he continued to spank her. And as humiliating and painful as it was for her, it was her own dirty desire to feel his touch on her throbbing core that caused her tears. By the time he stopped, Buffy was convinced she’d come with one simple caress.
Oddly, Spike was breathing hard behind her. Buffy wondered if it had turned him on too. Cautiously, she glanced at him over her shoulder. The light of desire filled his eyes as he gazed back at her. Swallowing, she tried to control her clenching stomach muscles. Quickly, she averted her gaze before he could see her struggles.
“You’re such a stubborn, bint…” Gently, he caught her hips and whispered next to her ear, “But I knew you’d like that.” He nuzzled her neck, nipping a slow path to her ear and sucking on the lobe.
Shuddering, Buffy shook her head. “No I didn’t,” she denied, panting breathlessly.
Spike stopped sucking on her lobe long enough to ask, “Then why didn’t you tell me to stop?”
Buffy didn’t have an answer for that.
“I’d have stopped any time you asked me to, pet…and I always will.”
She risked a quick look at him and saw the truth in his expression. Silently, she nodded her understanding.
He smiled at her. “And the next time we do that, I’ll use a paddle, you’ll enjoy that even more,” he whispered huskily. “Does it hurt much?” he asked softly, caressing her flaming cheeks with a light touch.
She shook her head, unable to trust herself to speak.
He kissed her neck and smiled. “Just stings and throbs a lot…right?”
Still unable to trust herself to answer, she nodded her head.
“Don’t worry, pet, I know how to make you feel better,” he whispered. Smoothly, he slipped his hand inside her thong and dragged a long finger over her pulsing flesh.
Squealing, Buffy bucked against him as his touch ignited a powerful orgasm. She thrashed in the chains, taken by surprise as he continued to draw her out, his fingers pumping into her again and again, his thumb dancing over and circling her clit.
Spike was happy to note that her cries of pleasure were much louder than her yelps of pain had been. He smiled in satisfaction as she gradually slowed and eased against him…spent and lax.
Sagging in the chains, Buffy was vaguely aware of him moving away from her. She jumped a few moments later when he kissed her softly, his tongue dancing slowly over hers.
Dazed, she blinked at him as he pulled back.
He smiled at her. “Close your eyes again and open your mouth,” he told her.
Expecting another kiss, she did as he asked. His mouth covered hers once more, but instead of pushing his tongue into her mouth he transferred a cube of ice from his mouth to hers. Gratefully, her mouth closed around it. He smiled at her again and she noticed the small bucket of cubes he was holding. She looked at him quizzically.
He shrugged and smiled. “It’ll soothe the worst of the stinging,” he told her as he moved behind her and fell to his knees in line with her reddened ass. “Tell me when you’ve sucked that cube, luv and I’ll replace it.”
She flinched in pleasured surprise when she felt him apply the first of several soothing chunks of ice to her heated skin. Three times, he knelt up to pop another cube into her mouth.
*****
Spike watched her doze in her chains, pleased that she was beginning to yield to him.
Back in front of her once more, he dropped to his knees and taking each ankle in his hands, he unlocked the shackles.
Her head lolled forward lazily as she watched him.
“I need to take your pants off, luv,” he explained.
She blinked at him uncomprehendingly.
The chains gone, he eased the tight leather pants off her legs. His fingers didn’t stop with her pants and before she could think about raising a protest, he hooked his fingers around the string sides of her thong and pulled it off her legs.
At eye level with her sex, he stared at her for a long time. Slowly, his hand came up to cradle her soft mound in the expanse of his palm. A wanton groan was ripped from deep in her throat. It was answered by a softer, huskier groan from Spike.
The sound did something to Spike. Quickly, he stood up to face her. “A good rough fuck…that’s what you’ve always needed, Buffy and that’s what you’re bloody well gonna get,” he told her gruffly. Twisting his fist in the flimsy fabric of her blouse, he ripped it away from her breasts, leaving her fully exposed to his gaze.
Her small frame juddered with the force of his gruff statement. Angry excitement filled her. “I’m not afraid of you, Spike,” she brazened.
“That a fact, Slayer?” He smirked crookedly at her. “Well that’s a mistake I will take great pleasure in rectifying, pet.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Aggressively, he reached for his jeans and quickly stripped down until he was standing in front of her totally naked.
Buffy couldn’t help the garbled whimper that escaped her lips. Her eyes sparkled and danced with sudden need as they lit on his exposed body. His alabaster flesh…his impressive erection…very impressive…his defined abs and flat stomach, his powerful shoulders and arms, his sleek toned thighs…the amazing length and girth of his penis. The sight of Spike left her feeling weak…but the intense gaze that he levelled her with left her feeling even weaker.
He advanced on her, an arrogant light in his eyes daring her to voice any objections she might have. As he suspected she remained silent–breathing hard, flushed with mounting arousal.
Standing before her, he arrogantly stared down into her face, inhaling her spicy musk. A low undefined sound bubbled up from the depths of her throat. Smirking, he cupped her sex and pushed a finger into her silky liquid, his mouth claiming hers in a violent kiss–tongues clashing.
She felt him nestle his hard length against the curve of her hip. She groaned into his mouth secretly longing to sample that hardness deep inside her. She sucked hard on his tongue, drawing it deep into her mouth. His finger was joined by another, pumping her, stretching her. He set a teasing friction at her hip, rubbing provocatively against her.
Robbing her of clarity, he continued to kiss her. He shifted slightly removing his fingers and letting his pelvis slide into the cradle of hers.
Low moans escaped her as she protested her lack of air. He pulled away enough to let her breathe, but immediately reclaimed her mouth once more…unwilling to relinquish her lips for too long.
“Release me…” she groaned.
He lifted his head and smirked at her. Her eyes darted to the bed. Spike shook his head.
“No, pet…I got you just where I want you for now,” he whispered huskily.
She arched a brow at him, puzzled. Surely, he meant for them to move to the bed?
Shaking his head, he stared at her steadily. “Forget the bed–we’ll use it another time–”
“There won’t be another time,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
A sinister smile danced at the corners of his sexy mouth. “Sure there will, pet.” He looked at her thoughtfully, his head cocked at a mocking angle. “You know, Slayer I was going to confine myself to just the once tonight…but just for that I think I will put the bed to good use…and possibly these chains too. I promised you a good rough ride and that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.”
Grasping her hips, he pulled her up. Automatically her legs locked around him. Grunting, he impaled her swiftly. His hard length embedded fully into her hot, wet depths in one powerful thrust. Screaming, Buffy flung her head back, suspended from the chains hooked into the ceiling, her legs wrapped firmly over his hips, she panted and gasped at his sudden invasion–stretched tight on his thick length.
She lifted her head to look at him as he remained unmoving. He was watching her.
Their gazes clashed. Slowly, he eased her back, letting her slide off his cock and just as slowly he pulled her back, immersing himself once more in her tight sheath. He repeated the action several more times…silently watching her as she watched him.
As their hips met in another intimate kiss, she thrust up slightly, tightening her already tight passage and eliciting a strangled groan from him. His eyes dropped to where they were joined and he watched, fascinated as he re-emerged from her honeyed pocket, slick and bathed in her perfumed oil.
He glanced up. She was studying his slow movements, her eyes glazed over in feminine admiration of his generous proportions.
Her heels locked at the small of his back and she tried to apply subtle pressure to force him forward. He groaned.
All at once the tension between them snapped and without warning, his restraint was gone, replaced with rough need. He surged into her, taking her with force and determination. A groan burst from both of them and everything speeded up.
Harsh grunts and breathless gasps filled the chamber. The chains creaked repeatedly as Spike pulled her body onto his. Powerless, Buffy let him have control of her as he swung her back and forth, slamming in and out of her with ease.
He called encouragements to her–lurid and dirty–his hips working hard, aching to unload into her. “That’s it, Slayer…take it all…fuck you’re tight…gonna go at you all night, pet…use you again and again…stretch your juicy cunny until only my cock will ever be enough for you.”
Her pretty mouth twisted into a sneer. “A bit full of yourself…aren’t you, Spike?”
“Now how can you say that, when it’s me that’s filling you, pet?” He thrust into her again, filling her. She gasped, shocked at the force behind each new thrust.
She tried to match him…meet him with equal strength but with his feet braced solidly on the floor and her swinging in her chains, he had the better vantage point. His thrusts were commanding…powerful…exquisitely painful, filling her lower belly and womb with a dragging tension that was growing to mammoth proportions, the likes she’d never experienced before. And yet, his rough handling thrilled her and filled her with the urge to…
“Let it go, Slayer…”
The urge to come…
“Oh, GOD!”
“YES! Fuck yes!”
The abrupt clenching of her muscles had him screaming in surprise. He came hard. Gasping in shock, he thought he was in serious danger of choking on his own tongue.
Buffy’s shrill shriek split the darkest crannies of the cave like chamber. Slumping slightly, the sound started to die down…fading away in the dancing darkness, until he morphed and on a renewed burst of demonic strength, he resumed his thrusts as he sank his fangs into her neck…sucking hard at the throbbing vein. Her shrill scream rent the dark again. Her eyes flying open in terror even as her body started to convulse and contract with a deeper orgasm that continued for the same length of time that his fangs were buried in her neck.
Fearfully, she felt each bruising pull of his mouth. She thrashed in her chains as his groans of ecstasy blended with his savage growls.
Spike pulled back…bellowing and snarling his final triumph.
Shocked and weakened, Buffy gazed at him, trembling in his arms. Carefully, he withdrew from her spent body and swiftly he unlocked the cuffs around her wrists…freeing her at last.
The bed was soft and smelled of Spike. He placed her among the covers, even draped her quaking flesh with a cool sheet.
*****
She wasn’t sure for how long, but Buffy dozed again, only to stir when she felt his weight dip the bed next to her. Whispering to her, he rolled her onto her stomach and pulled her to her knees. She twitched and moaned as he used his hand to glide his now fully aroused shaft along the puffy folds of her sex…coating himself in her silky cream.
“Well?” He kissed her shoulder softly.
She nodded breathlessly.
Smiling, he pushed in firmly.
His pace this time was just as hard, just as punishing. She screamed and moaned and groaned and whimpered as he fucked her hard…fucked her rough.
His fingers found her clit, wet and throbbing. Her voice reached a crescendo, high-pitched and filled with her intense orgasm as he twisted her clit, sending her over the edge.
He joined her…spilling hard into her, screaming and growling his own intense pleasure.
Spike collapsed over her, pressing her into the bed. He nuzzled her neck softly before sinking his fangs back into his mark. She quivered before softly sighing his name.
She rolled over when he moved back, and this time she thought he was done with her, but when she felt his tongue licking her she groaned, and with a torturous effort, lifted her head off the bed to look at him. She gasped. His head was firmly buried between her thighs, his hands pushing her wide open as he sucked and lapped at her. The room was filled with his pleasured slurps. “Bloody gorgeous you are, Slayer…taste like…” he mumbled drunkenly before dropping his head to tongue more of her.
Shocked that she could be so swiftly aroused again, Buffy let her head flop back against the bed, too exhausted to protest.
He slid up her body, hard and ready. Easily finding his own way into her pliant heat. Harsh ragged breathing surrounded them as he thrust into her…she groaned…he growled. Their climax was wrung from them, both their bodies bathed in sweat and musk.
Finally he came to rest…laughing and chuckling in turn as he pulled her towards him, fitting her against his replete body. His arms curled around her, cradling her softly as he nuzzled her neck.
They slept for hours and when Spike next opened his eyes, he knew it was well into mid-afternoon. He looked down at the woman in his arms.
She was awake, but only just. He smiled. She looked glorious, her hair all tousled, her lips puffy and bruised from his loving. Spike was certain her mouth wasn’t the only part of her bruised, her ass, wrists and ankles would no doubt be bruised too. His eyes sought out the wound on her neck. And that was the most wondrous bruise of all–the Slayer wearing his bite mark. Forever scarred by him.
Dazed, she blinked at him. “You bit me–twice! You bastard,” she groaned weakly.
Spike chuckled. “Well yeah…of course I bit you. Don’t tell me you actually thought I’d pass up the one chance I’ll ever get to taste you? And don’t even think about telling me you didn’t like it.”
She glared at him, defiant and angry.
Spike could see she was already trying to gather her considerable Slayer ire. Kissing her, he released her and climbed off the bed to retrieve his clothes and dress.
Dropping her leather pants and a loaned T-shirt next to her, he sat beside her and waited for her to stir herself. He knew he hadn’t taken enough to really weaken her, but with the potion still flowing through her system and the energetic sex, she was spent despite the hours of sleep.
Grimacing, Buffy pushed herself up and quietly began to dress. Once she finished, Spike handed her, her boots. She stood awkwardly glancing around her, unsure what to do next.
Spike smirked at her and the urge to smack him on the nose was very strong for a moment, but then she remembered other things–dirty things and the urge was replaced with a different kind of desire. Spike saw it and his smirk grew wider.
He turned from her then and retrieved a bag, which he placed in her hands.
She looked at it puzzled.
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “That’s for you, Slayer…inside you’ll find some clothes and an address. In three days time be at the address wearing those clothes…and don’t be late or I will punish you,” he told her softly.
Brushing his hand aside, Buffy glanced inside the bag and swiftly clinched it shut, blushing profusely. “You’re deranged if you think I’ll wear t-that thing…” she spluttered. “Or meet you anywhere to–to…” she glared at him hard. “In your demented dreams, Spike–I won’t do it,” she said firmly.
“Oh, yes you will, pet. Now go on home and I’ll see you in three days,” he said softly.
Infuriated, Buffy stomped over to the ladder. “When I get home, I’m burning these,” she yelled at him.
He chuckled at her as she began to climb the ladder. She was groaning with all her little aches and pains, her red leather ass on perfect display.
“No you won’t, Slayer–not unless you really want me to paddle that ass of yours?” he threatened quietly.
“No, Spike it’s done. Once that stupid potion wears off we’ll be back to how things used to be–how they should be and–”
His full throated laugh cut her off. She froze halfway up the ladder and turned to glare at him.
“Oh, Slayer that’s bleedin’ sweet that is. But the truth is, I don’t need the potion to bring you to heel. You’re wearing my mark, Slayer–my claim, and that means your ass is mine–permanently!” He sauntered over to her, all swagger and attitude, smirking at her for all he was worth.
Buffy clamped a hand over the small wound on her neck, disturbed that it tingled as he drew near. She gazed at him horrified.
Still smirking, Spike reached out a hand and fondled her red leather bottom. “Told you, I was going to begin with that ass of yours and finish with it…and I’ve not finished yet…not by a long way.” She growled indignantly and tried to swat his hand away. “Now you be at that address in three days time, dressed in that costume and I might be persuaded to go easy on your ass…but make no mistakes that’s one little treasure I will be claiming with a paddle next. Now bugger off, before I change my mind and claim it right now.”
Buffy sprang into action and vaulted up the ladder at speed. But Spike followed her closely. She was just about to wrench the door open when he slammed his hand against it, preventing her from leaving.
Nervously, she turned her face up to his sardonic gaze. She could feel his breath against her face and slowly her heart began to pound. “Now what?” she whispered.
Leaning into her, he raised his hand and caught a lock of her gold hair, twirling the silky strand around a finger, his blue eyes smiling down at her. “You’ll be there…won’t you, Buffy?”
Buffy’s heart faltered, stuttered and skipped as her throat went desperately dry. She had to force her cords to relax in order to swallow.
Her eyes danced over his face. Slowly, she nodded.
His smile dissolved and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Good girl.”
She looked at him, a quizzical expression in her eyes.
“What?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
A mysterious gleam came into her eyes, and she gave him a slightly lop-sided smile. “No…I just wanted to know, when do I get to handle you?”
Patent smirk in place, Spike arched a dark brow at her. “Buffy pet, you can handle me any time you like,” he chuckled before leaning down to kiss her passionately.
When he freed her, she ducked quickly under his arm and escaped, dashing off through the cemetery. All the while clutching the bag he’d given her, tightly to her chest.
THE END
*~*~*~*~*
Just a one off piece that has been waiting six months to be posted. Thanks to Tahmoe, she did yet another fab job as beta on this. YAY Tahmoe!!