Chapter 3. Sentimental Journey
Sitting in the Dining Car of the Trans-American Railroad car making its way from New York to California, Buffy stared down at the huge emerald and diamond ring glinting under the lights. The very beauty of it took her breath away, and she wondered why Spike had made such a big gesture on his part.
Just two mornings before, he had almost frog-marched her into Tiffany’s on Fifth Avenue. He had given her little choice in the matter as he had demanded to see the biggest emeralds they had. Tray after tray of glittering jewels had blurred in front of her eyes as he had summarily dismissed ring after ring. He had finally settled on the square cut emerald surrounded by small diamonds she wore on her left hand. It had fitted perfectly, and she had to admit that the ring suited her small elegant fingers.
With great care, and a look on his face that she had never seen before, he had kissed the ring before threading it on her finger. Once in place, he had lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the ring again. His eyes had never left hers, and she swore he almost looked at her with love in his eyes. It had been so fleeting that she thought she had imagined it.
Now there were on their way, back to Sunnydale and her family. She had told so many lies over the last three years, and it had become harder and harder to keep up the pretence her life had become. As she looked at Spike watching the passing scenery, she suddenly remembered how they had met
###
His was the third club she had auditioned in that day. Her legs were tired and her feet sore, but some of the other girls she had auditioned with that day told her that they were heading for a new club downtown. The boss of the club was a guy called Spike, and he had a reputation of treating his ‘girls’ well. Several of her new friends were heading there after their current audition, and they invited her along for the ride.
They had arrived together and made their way to the side entrance down a dingy alley. They tinkle of an upright piano had wafted out to greet them as the door opened to allow their entrance. She had been surprised at the clean smell of the place; the other clubs she had auditioned in that day had smelled of stale cigars and spilled gin.
Quickly changing in the chorus dressing rooms, the girls stood in the sidelines nervously waiting on their names to be read out. She stood for over an hour when her name had finally been called. Her stomach clenched tight, and she wondered if it was with nerves or hunger. Both were her friends these days.
The heat from the strong stage lights made the sweat trickle down her back. Her dancing shoes felt tight on her feet, and her stage tights were clinging to her legs. As she walked towards the centre of the stage, she turned her head slightly towards the audience area. Blinded by the bright lights, she could see no further than the front few tables.
Out of nowhere a deep Southern accented voice spoke to her. The man introduced himself as Clem Johnstone, the musical director. Through the glare of the lights, she noticed he was sitting alone and smiled at him.
“Do you want me to dance or sing, Mr Johnstone?” she asked.
From the depths of the club, Clem’s voice penetrated the gloom. “Could you sing for me, Miss Summers? We have enough dancers to keep us going. We’re looking for someone who can sing, and I need their voice to hold the audience.”
Stomach churning with nerves, she handed her sheet music to the pianist. Xander Harris, the club’s chief piano player had given her a small wink as he placed the music on the stand. Talking for a few moments, they decided on her key and she smiled at him.
Standing behind the microphone, she lifted both hands to hold it tight. It helped with the nerves, and kept her focused. As Xander began to play the introduction, she pulled the mike towards her.
She put her soul into her voice as she sang. Desperation made her voice quiver in just the right places, and she knew she had done well when she heard applause. Her eyes had been closed with emotion as she sang, and when she opened her eyes at the end of the song, she noticed the top of a bright white head whispering in Clem’s ear.
Shading her eyes with one hand against the bright light, she looked directly at Mr Johnstone. The owner of the white hair had disappeared and she really hoped she managed to get a job.
“When can you start sweetcakes?”
Excitement replaced nerves when she heard the question. “Whenever suits you Mister Johnstone” she replied, trying to keep her voice calm.
“We need a few days to get things set up and to get some routines rehearsed, so why don’t you come back tomorrow morning at ten and meet the boss.” She could see him glance quickly at his watch before he continued. “I need to get things set up for tonight. Leave your address with Xander as you leave honey, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Giving a small dance of joy, she turned back to Xander giving him a huge smile. From nowhere he produced paper and a pencil, and handed it to her. Filling in her details, she handed it back and almost ran from the club.
She had not felt so happy since leaving Sunnydale over a month before.
The following day she arrived at the club well before ten. She didn’t want to be late; this was too good a job to pass up. As the doorman bid her enter, he pointed the way to the boss’s office, and told her Spike was waiting to meet her.
As she approached the door it opened and the owner of the white hair stepped through. His air of authority and confident walk told her immediately that this was her new employer. Her eyes quickly appraised him as he walked towards her; his sharp cheekbones, made prominent by his smile, helped to accentuate his ocean blue eyes. Dressed in the height of fashion, his double breasted suit tight across his chest, gave him a superior look.
Closer and closer he walked towards her, his smile never leaving his face. Finally he stood so near that she could feel the heat of his body and smell his spicy scent.
“Hello cutie”
Her mouth ran dry. A cut-glass English accent was not what she expected, and she just stared at him in response.
“You must be Buffy Summers.” A slender long fingered hand was held out before her. Like an automaton hers rose to clasp it. As his warm hand enclosed hers, she felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach. ”Pleased to meet you, kitten. My name’s Spike Giles and I own the place.”
“Yes” was all she could think to reply.
He continued to smile as he pulled her hand through his arm and led her to his office. Seating her on a comfortable chair, he moved behind his desk to sit. For a long time he simply stared at her, a smile ghosting around his lips.
She jumped slightly when he moved and started to go through the papers on his desk. “Keep calm, luv” he said. “I’m just finding your contract.”
Finally he handed her a two page document outlining exactly what he expected of her. Shaking slightly under his scrutiny, she read the document over. Her weekly salary was over a hundred dollars a week. A huge smile stole over her face; she would be able to send money home for the first time in weeks.
A frisson of unease ran down her spine when the euphoria of the huge paycheck sank into her brain. She had been in New York long enough to know that this man was grossly over-paying her. He was going to pay her more money a week than she expected to make in a month. Suddenly she realised that she was in some sort of danger.
Dry-mouthed she questioned him. “The salary’s a bit more than I expected, Mr Giles.”
Piercing blue eyes stared at her. “I expect a lot from my employees, Buffy. I expect total loyalty and respect.” Smiling slightly, he continued. “I expect you to turn up for all your rehearsals and never be late for a performance.”
Raising her chin, she smiled a cold smile. “I will never be late, Mr Giles. In fact, I’ve come prepared for rehearsals today.”
“Good,” he replied as he rose from the chair and moved round the desk. Handing her a pen, he motioned to her to sign the contract. Quickly complying she signed the contract, smiling at him when she returned the pen.
“Call me Spike, Buffy” he said, as he opened the office door. “Follow me pet; I’ll take you to meet Xander.”
#
It had taken him a week to persuade her to go to bed with him, and only another few days to persuade her to move in with him. The lifestyle he promised her was beyond her wildest dreams, and he was generous with his wallet. So much so that she found she could send enough money back to her mother and sister that they would never starve. But her conscience plagued her every day.
She had known on the first day of rehearsal that Spike wanted her. He had made his intention very plain, and the girls in the chorus had congratulated her on managing to fix his interest. Some of the girls, who had worked for him for a while, told of his prowess between the sheets and how well he looked after his current ‘bed-mate’. Some bragged of how the lucky object of his affection wanted for little while she was with him. They told her that he rarely lasted more than a few months with a girl, but the benefits were well worth the sacrifice.
Buffy had thought long and hard about letting him take her to bed. She would lose her virginity, but a few months of letting him touch her might provide enough money to help her destitute mother and sister.
Was she capable of whoring herself to help her family? It would seem that she was able to do just that when he finally made his move and offered to take her back to his place for a nightcap. She knew he would try and persuade her to sleep with him, and she knew she would let him; but it would be on her terms only, never his.
Back at his apartment, he surprised her by pouring a drink and setting her on the sofa while he took a chair on the other side of the room. He asked her questions about her family, and she lied through her teeth by telling him she was an orphan with no family. No way would she tell him that the only reason she was in the same room as him was to help her mother and sister. She had already decided that the less he knew of her life, the less he could use against her.
She trembled with trepidation as he slowly rose from his chair and made his way across the room to sit by her side. Her cold hands gripped the glass he had served her as if it was a lifeline, and she could feel her mouth run dry. Would he expect her to be experienced in the art of sex? She had to tell him the truth.
“I’m a virgin” she blurted, as his hands covered hers. Spike didn’t even hesitate at her declaration, and continued to remove the untouched glass from her hand.
Smiling slightly, he gently moved his hand under her chin and lifted her scared face to his. “Just how much of a virgin are you, Buffy?”
“On a scale of one to ten, then I would say an eleven.” Her voice quivered and there was a hint of tears in her eyes.
Gently his hand caressed her face as he lowered his head, his lips on a collision course with hers. “Then I’ll be your teacher, luv” he whispered against her lips before his generous mouth met hers.
Her last boyfriend had never kissed her like this. Warn lips teased and slid over her mouth until she pursed her own in anticipation. Teeth nibbled gently at her top lip, and she opened her mouth in surprise. Taking advantage, Spike gently pushed his tongue into her welcoming mouth. Tickling the roof of her mouth with his talented tongue, she moaned in response and her body shifted closer to his. Strong arms enfolded her as he slanted his mouth over hers and tasted her fully.
As the kiss went on, she shyly touched her tongue to his. She was over-whelmed by his reaction. He groaned against her mouth, and held her tight. His kiss changed from soft teasing to hard and demanding. His lips dug into hers forcing her mouth wider and she revelled in the power she felt over him. She didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly she found herself lying prone on the sofa with a very aroused male holding her down. Surprised at how much she was enjoying his passion, she raised her hips slightly against his and her body went rigid with shock at the hardness she felt pressed against her.
She may be a virgin, but she not so naïve that she did not know when a man was aroused.
Spike finally raised his lips from hers, and stared down at her. “I want you, pet” he rasped. “If you don’t want to come to bed with me, tell me now Buffy. If we kiss much longer then I won’t be able to stop, and I don’t want you to feel that I forced you.”
Buffy stared up at the man above her. She could not believe that he was offering to stop. In her very limited experience, she believed that a man like Spike would just take what he wanted and consequences be dammed.
In that small moment, she knew she would stay.
“Take me to bed, Spike” was all she could think of to say.
Lifting her gently into his arms, he carried her into his bedroom kissing her mouth with renewed intensity. Shifting in his arms, Buffy tried to press her whole body against his. Warm tingles started in the centre of her being and spread throughout her body. She knew this was physical desire, and was surprised she could feel this way without love.
Her last coherent thought before Spike slowly removed the clothes from her aroused body, was a warning her mother had given her at eighteen. Sex is a function, love is an emotion; unless the two went together, it didn’t mean a thing. How true that saying seemed be now that she was about to give her body to her boss; but he would never have her heart.
Not while she was his whore.
As he has undressed the golden goddess in his arms, Spike could not believe his luck. He had found a woman that could so easily warn his cold heart, and his mind reeled with the thought that he would be the first to possess her. If he had his way, he would also be her last. He knew he was an excellent lover, yet he felt like a green youth as he stared at the beautiful body displayed before him. Each part of her was perfect in his eyes, from her golden mane to the pink painted toes on her graceful dancer’s feet. Her pert breasts, their nipples pointed in arousal, made him want to feast on her forever, and he wasted no time at all in pulling one into the warm heat of his mouth as his hand found its twin.
When her body arched from the bed as if trying to push her breast further into his questing mouth, he fought the urge to rip off his clothes and plunge into her depths. His head told him to slow down; his dick told him to stamp its possession on this woman. Finally lifting his head from her breast, he stared down into her passion-filled eyes.
For a few seconds, guilt wracked his soul. He was about to take something from her that could never be returned, and he could never offer her a permanent place in his life. He knew his own track record when it came to women, and although she might hold his interest at this moment, he was sure that the intensity of his current feelings would diminish in time. Maybe they would last a few weeks or a few months at most. Soon a new member of the chorus, or a pretty woman in another nightclub, would capture his interest and he would cast Buffy aside. However, at this current moment in time, he wanted to make her his.
“Tell me you want me, Buffy” he huskily asked. He needed to hear from her own lips that she wanted this; he knew that once he heard her acquiesce, his guilt would disappear.
Buffy was almost incoherent with need. She could not believe that an almost stranger could make her want him as she did at this moment. Her body felt on fire for his touch, and he hadn’t even removed his clothes yet. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that this was only a physical reaction to his practiced touch, yet he seemed to want more from her. If it meant he would continue to make love to her, she would agree to almost anything.
Closing her eyes against the intense feelings he created, she whispered to him. “Please don’t stop.”
“Never” he replied, wondering why he had said such a banal thing. He knew this was not a long term relationship, yet it seemed important to make her think it was. Inwardly shrugging his shoulders at his own pomposity, he lowered his lips to hers. Kissing her soundly, he stroked his hands over her breasts and down her body, making their way to the triangle of dark blonde hair between her legs. Feeling her tremble at his touch, he lifted his head and allowed his lips to follow the path of his hands.
Gently he nipped and kissed his way down her torso, and the thought that no man had ever touched her like this made him feel a million dollars. Leaving small love bites in his wake, he moved his mouth lower and lower until his nose nestled against the juncture of her legs. He could feel her legs tremble with the effort not to open to his silent pleading, and he blew a soft breath over her clit.
Immediately her legs opened to allow him access, and he moved quickly between them to kiss his prize. Soft pink petals opened beneath his experienced touch, and he gently pulled her clit between his lips as he pushed a finger into her tight opening.
She was going to die, she was sure of it. His mouth was doing sinful things to her body, and his finger was fast becoming her lifeline. The touch of his fingers and mouth on her most private place was sending her rocketing into heaven. Already she could feel her body convulse under his, and she wondered if all women felt this much when a man made love to her. All thoughts of why she was doing this flew from her mind as Spike brought her to the first climax she had ever had in her life.
Lights, bright and shining, sparked beneath her closed lids as her head flew back against the pillows. She could feel her toes curling towards the souls of her feet as they beat a tattoo against the bed, and thud of her heart seemed to be loud in her ears.
Slowly Spike brought her out of her climax by licking and petting her mound. She was more than ready for him now, wet and slick with her own juices. Rising from the bed, he looked down at the satisfied woman lying witless on his bed. She was glorious in her passion and he could not wait to be inside her.
With deft movements, he removed his clothes and threw them on top of hers. Staring down at the mound of tangled fabric on the floor, he was suddenly struck with the thought that soon their limbs would be as close. For a split second, he wondered how much this woman would come mean to him.
Finally he moved his eyes to hers, and almost laughed at the look of shock on her face. She was staring at his very prominent erection with wide eyes. If he had any doubts that she had told the truth about her virginity, it had been banished by the look on her face. Lying down next to her, he pulled her into his arms.
“Touch me, Buffy” he almost begged. “Give me your hand sweetheart and I’ll show you what to do.”
Tentatively she lifted her hand from her side, and deliberately placed it in his. She was scared of touching him in case she displeased him. Why she should care about his feelings did not enter her head at that moment; she wanted to please him as much as he had pleased her.
Taking her hand gently, he placed it firmly around his girth. Keeping his hand on top of hers, he showed her the amount of pressure that pleased him and he soon taught her the rhythm that would satisfy him best.
Buffy was fascinated by the feel of him. Steel tempered with warm velvet seemed to grow beneath her touch. Soon his hand moved from hers, and she continued on her own. The rhythm he had taught her seemed to become second nature as she stared at him. When a small amount of liquid appeared at the tip, she moved her hand around the head and squeezed gently.
Spike’s reaction was swift and unexpected. He thrust hard into her hand and his head flew back in pleasure. Scared that she had hurt him, she immediately stopped and shrank back on the bed. His body was still thrusting into empty air, when he begged her to keep touching him. Quickly she placed her hand around him once more, moving it up and down in time with his thrusts.
Suddenly he begged her to stop. As she removed her hand, her confusion was written all over her face. If he was enjoying it so much, why did he want her to stop?
As he looked into her eyes, Spike knew that she did not realise how close she had come to bringing him to climax. He did not want to come over her hand; he wanted to be inside her, long golden legs wrapped around his body in pleasure, when his climax hit.
Reaching behind him, he removed a condom from the top drawer. He hated using the things, their thickness dulled the pleasure he would feel when her vaginal walls spasmed around him, but the last thing he needed was a pregnant mistress. With practiced movements, he covered his erection before gently pushing her legs apart.
“I’ve never made love to a virgin before Buffy, but I promise I will be as gentle as I can” he whispered against her cheek before taking her mouth in a bruising kiss. “If the pain gets too much, tell me and I’ll slow down a bit luv.”
She could think of nothing to say, so simply nodded her head. Her mouth was dry with nerves, but she knew she could not wait much longer for his possession. When she felt the first probe of his erection against her, she instinctively shrank back on the bed.
Spike felt her slight resistance, and moved his hand back between her legs to play with clit. He needed her to want him as much as he wanted her, and he knew just how to make that happen. Within seconds Buffy relaxed against his hand and her legs opened wide in welcome. Settling himself between their tanned length, he pressed forward into the honeyed warmth he had so carefully prepared.
God she was so hot and tight. Never in his life had he ever experienced anything like this. Even through the thickness of the rubber barrier between them, he could feel how much she was ready for him. As he pressed through her maidenhead, he stilled and allowed her to become used to his girth. Drawing her tongue between his lips, he kissed her until he felt her body stop trembling and her hips give a small shift of welcome.
Slowly he thrust in and out of her. When she started to rise from the bed to meet his thrusts, he knew he had done his preparation well. Lifting his upper body from her, he stared down into her eyes and continued to push inside her. When her head started to thrash on the pillow, he smiled a small smile of satisfaction. She could not fake how she much she was enjoying this when she had never experience sex before.
Buffy could not believe how much this man could make her feel. There had been a brief stab of pain as he had taken her virginity, but that had soon been replaced by the need to feel him deep inside her. With each stroke he made her want him to get deeper inside her. Her body seemed to know exactly what it wanted as she met him thrust for thrust. Faster and deeper he moved within her body, and she could feel her body start to climax around him.
Spike was surprised he could feel her walls flutter around him signalling that she was ready to come. Normally the sheaths he used were too thick to let him have any sensation, but he was too close to climax to care. Determined to bring her with him, he quickly found her clit with his fingers as his teeth found a tempting nipple to bite. Coming together as one, both cried their release.
Collapsing heavily on the wonderful woman beneath him, Spike rested for a few seconds before gently removing his dick from her still twitching vagina. Lying next to her he pulled her into his arms, and kissed every bit of her face he could reach. Never had he known such pleasure with a woman, and he knew this affair would last a considerable time.
Lying replete in his arms, Buffy wondered if sex was always this good. Memories of the words spoken by the chorus girls flitted through her mind. He was indeed good between the sheets, but she would have to learn quickly how to please him if she wanted to keep his interest.
She needed his money….badly.
Over the next few months, he taught her well how to keep his interest. With each new ‘pleasure’ she learned at his hands, her disgust at being his whore ate at her soul. What killed her most of all was how much she enjoyed the things he made her do, and how she would beg for him to continue. Surely no normal woman enjoyed the type of sex they had together.
As the weeks turned into years their pleasure in each other had intensified, but her feelings of using him for money had become all-consuming. She performed for him whenever and where ever he desired, and she relished in it. Never had she been left wanting under his skilled touch, and with each coupling she felt her resentment increase.
How could he make her do the things she did?
###
Crashing back to reality, Buffy seemed to feel each bump in the railroad track. The steady rhythm of the wheels against the steel, reminded her of the rhythm of their love-making. Maybe it was the fact that a ring now graced her finger that made her feel differently toward him. He had gone to so much trouble to make sure her mother thought well of her, and his lie of being her fiancé would explain where the money had come from for years.
Staring down at the hand holding tightly to hers, she didn’t know what to say. They could not sleep in the same bed under her mother’s roof, even if she was in hospital. Dawn would know, and she could not have that.
Wondering how to tell him that he would have to find a hotel room, her hand involuntarily clasped his tighter. At the feel of her small hand grasping on to his, he raised a querying eyebrow.
“Spike” her voiced faltered on his name. “You have to find a hotel when we get to Sunnydale.”
Understanding her completely, he smiled as he nodded his head. “No problem, kitten. As long as you promise to visit me now and then.”
Smiling back at him, she whispered. “Of course, and I suppose I will need to introduce you to mom and Dawnie.”
“Looking forward to it, pet” he murmured as he drew her into the crook of his arm.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm sorry it took so long to update my friends. For a change I actually had a social life for a few weeks, and work has just been mad. Please forgive me and review - maybe the fingers will go faster if you do......