Part Thirteen.....
No Matter What
~~~~~~~~~~
"No matter what they tell us
No matter what they do
No matter what they teach us
What we believe is true..."
~~~~~~~~~~
Three weeks passed, and they were together
nearly every night.
The hours Buffy spent in school dragged on
endlessly. When the final bell went off, her
stomach would tighten with nerves as she
wondered if he would come to her when the
sun went down, or if this was night that Drusilla
would reclaim him.
Would he come to her bed, or had he had
enough of her naive teenage self?
She found herself praying under her breath,
calling in favors from God. She'd saved a fair
amount of his children here on Spaceship Earth.
Shouldn't that count for something?
Yes, it should. So, she prayed. Made bargains.
Offered deals.
And every night, for the past three weeks, her
prayer had been answered.
She would watch the sunset anxiously, prowling
the house like a caged tiger, until the doorbell
rang.
Literally flying across the room, she would throw
open the door to him with a welcoming smile, and
he would cross the threshold, kicking the door
closed behind him, then reach for her and kiss her
until she felt faint.
Some nights, he would take her out to dinner and
a movie, or to a jazz club where she was unknown.
They would slow dance, clinging close to each other
as the music moved through them.
In the back row of a movie theater, he would
feed her popcorn, and would let her do the same
to him, although he spent more time licking the
butter off her fingers than he did eating the pop-
corn. Halfway through whatever movie they were
seeing, they would start making out so intensely
that they were nearly ejected from the theater twice.
Other nights, they would stay at her house and
spend the evening with her phone off the hook. He
cooked dinner for her, amazing her with his talent
in the kitchen. He'd give her some chore to do...
chopping vegetables or making salad, and would
entertain her with the cooking pans, tossing things
he was sauteeing up in the air and catching them.
She would sit on the counter and applaud every
thing he did, rewarding him with kisses.
He was endlessly inventive when it came to
romance.
Sometimes he would read poetry to her, sometimes
he would tell her dirty jokes that made her blush
from head to toe.
He would light candles and run hot baths,
dumping in a goodly amount of bubble bath, and
plopping her down in front of him. Then, with
his hands slick with bath oil, he would move
them over her body, not missing an inch, lingering
on her breasts and between her legs.
And one night, he brought her champagne....
~~~~~~~~~~
"No matter what they call us
However they attack
No matter where they take us
We'll find our own way back.."
~~~~~~~~~~
"Is that...."
"It's champagne, the finest there is. And it's
for my beautiful bride."
Buffy was almost jumping up and down in ex-
citement. The only alcohol she'd ever tasted had
been the sips of champagne she'd had on their
first dinner out, and the couple of beers Xander
had smuggled into the basement for her and Willow
during one of their all night movie marathons.
The beer, she despised. The taste was nasty and
it made her feel fat seconds after she drank it. But,
she never admitted this to her friends, although she
suspected that they felt the same way.
The champagne from the restaurant William had
taken her to, she hadn't really tasted. She'd been
too nervous about being caught at first, and then
she'd been in too much of a hurry to get to the
ladies room after their impulsive encounter beneath
the tablecloth.
Tonight though, she was determined to enjoy the
experience to it's absolute fullest measure.
She swept through the living room, turning the
lights down low, while William took the bottle into
the kitchen. It had already been chilled, but he
wanted it perfect, so he placed it in the refrigerator
for a few minutes.
Buffy searched the back of her mom's china cabinet,
drawing out two crystal champagne flutes. She took
them into the kitchen, nearly dropping them on the
floor when he followed her and snagged her around
the waist, hauling her body against for a long, wet,
deeply penetrating kiss.
He took the glasses out of her hand and set them
on the counter, then pushed her up against it.
"Maybe we should save the champagne for later,"
he whispered in her ear, nibbling the lobe and teasing
her gold hoop earring with his tongue. "I want you now!"
Buffy pushed him away and laughed. "I want you, too."
Calling up the memory of one of her romance novels,
she selected a proper quotation. "But wouldn't it be
delicious to trickle the champagne over me and drink
it from between my thighs?"
"What?" He took a step back, pleased but still
surprised by her question. "Is that my bashful
little bride saying such naughty things to me?" he
asked, nudging her thighs apart with his hips as he
pressed her against the counter. "Say something else,
love," he begged.
She cleared her throat, happy that she was managing
to control her blushing. "Shower me with golden liquid
and catch the drops that fall from my breasts on your
tongue," she said, running her fingers through his hair,
mussing it into unruly curls. "Make my navel your cup
and lick...and lick the..." She clicked her tongue impa-
tiently, trying to remember the rest of the sentence. "And
lick...the sparkle...the sparkling..."
The harder she tried to think of the right words, the
broader his smile became, and when she finally
pushed him away to go in search of the book, he
fell into one of the dinette chairs, his shoulders shaking
with helpless laughter.
Buffy stood over him, hands on her hips, ordering
him not to snicker at her, whereupon he stood up
and grabbed her around the waist.
"God, I love you, girl," he declared extravagantly,
lifting her into the air and spinning her around
and around.
He carried her into the living room and tossed her
playfully onto the sofa, then went back into the
kitchen for the champagne and the glasses.
Buffy sat and watched as he pulled the cork
effortlessly from the bottle with a festive "pop!"
The champagne sparkled in the dim light, fas-
cinating her with it's fizzing and snapping bubbles.
"Take a sip," he instructed, "and hold it against the
roof of your mouth...that's right. Feel the bubbles?"
She nodded, then swallowed the mouthful of
wine. He brought the glass back to her lips again
and she took another sip eagerly. "Mmmm...this is
good," she said, rolling her eyes up with pleasure. "It's
SO much better than beer."
"Someone's been giving you beer?" he asked, raising
one eyebrow. "Care to tell me who?"
She tipped her glass up again and emptied it. Hold-
ing it out for him to refill, she giggled. "Xander sneaks
beer down into his bedroom when we spend the night
with him."
Busy drinking down the champagne, Buffy missed
the brief flash of gold in his eyes. "You spend the night
with...Xander?" he asked quietly.
"Well...me and Willow," she explained, shaking her head
a little. "It's just for fun...you know...we watch movies and
we..."
"Drink beer?" he supplied, peeved for some reason. He
knew perfectly well that there was nothing between
Buffy and Xander but friendship, but he also couldn't forget
the night he'd seen her for the first time.
She had been on the dance floor with the boy, and he
remembered well just how her "friend" had looked
at her...tried to touch her.
Recalling the sight of Xander's hand resting on Buffy's
hip, he couldn't suppress a slight growl. His jealous
nature was rearing it's unattractive head.
"Well," he said firmly. "You can tell "Xander" that you
won't be attending any more slumber parties with
him."
Looking up at him, Buffy blinked slowly, catching
his tone. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Are...are you
mad about me sleeping with Xander?"
"SLEEPING WITH HIM?" William repeated loudly. "You
surely don't mean THAT the way it sounds...DO YOU?"
The champagne was confusing her. She was almost
certain that he was yelling at her.
"Umm...no, I guess I don't. I mean...sleeping at his
room...with him there, too. That's all I mean...meant."
She smiled at him brightly, holding out her glass. "More
champagne?" she asked.
Frowning, he poured her glass half full, then emptied his
own in one swallow. "So...where DO you sleep...when
you stay at his house?"
She concentrated. "Well....he has a really big bed in
the...the basement of his house...and Willow and I
use that and...and...um..." She snapped her fingers
and giggled. "Xander! That's his name...he uses a
sleeping bag...a Charlie Brown sleepy bag...and it's so
funny cause Willow always teases him and asks
him to Snoopy dance...it's funny."
Now, he was beginning to feel a little embarrassed. There
was no way he could be jealous of some teenage boy
who slept in a room with two girls, and did it in a sleeping
bag decorated with cartoons.
Buffy squinted at him. "Are you...are you jealous?" she
asked suddenly. "Cause you should NOT be!"
William smiled. "No, darling...I'm not jealous. I know
you love me, and not...Xander."
She shook her head. "THAT'S not what I meant!" she
announced, pointing one finger at him. "YOU can't be
jealous of what I do...who are YOU spending the nights
with...when you're not spending them with...me? Huh?
Answer THAT one!"
He stared at the glass in his hand, wondering how in
the hell the evening had taken this wrong turn.
"Buffy...I haven't slept in the same bed with
Drusilla since the night I made love to you for the
first time," he said quietly. "And I haven't had sex
with her in months."
"Ohh," she sighed, holding her glass against
her breast. "Really?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Really. I love YOU, sweet-
heart." He set his glass down on the table and
pulled her into his arms. "You're MY girl," he said,
kissing her cheeks, and the tip of her nose. "My
beautiful little slayer."
Buffy pulled her arms free and flung them around
him, dropping her empty glass on the carpet. "I
love you, too," she said, holding on tightly and
hoping the room would stop spinning soon.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I can't deny what I believe
I can't be what I'm not
I know I'll love forever
I know, no matter what..."
~~~~~~~~~~
His hands on her body were gentle
and bold at the same time. He easily found
all the pleasure points, making soft sounds
of approval when she sighed agreeably.
Unbuttoning her blouse, he trailed his lips
down her throat and over the beginning
swell of her breasts, his tongue going on
daring little forays beneath her lacy bra.
Buffy tilted her head back, sinking into the
plush sofa cushions with little moans and
gasps.
When he sat up suddenly, she whined her
disapproval.
"Unfasten your bra," he demanded.
The champagne had definitely made her a little
loopy, and she grinned devilishly. "No!"
His eyebrows arched in amazement at her
tone. "No?" he repeated, his own hands moving
to accomplish the task.
But she swatted his hands away. "You heard me,"
she said, pointing one finger at him. "Now...I'm
in charge."
Grinning, he sat back. "Well, please, by all means,
order me around."
She closed her eyes briefly, wanting the slight
fuzziness to clear up. "Umm...unbutton your
shirt," she requested, trying to sound as determined
as HE always did. "And..um..take your shoes off."
Removing the shoes first, he looked up at her
for her approval. "Socks as well?"
"Of course," she said, waving her hand about
grandly. "Hurry..." she hiccuped. "...up!"
Trying to hide his smile, he did as he was told.
He left his shirt on after it was unbuttoned, exposing
a narrow patch of skin from his neck to his beltline.
Buffy sighed, staring at his very attractive chest
and the hard muscle ridges on his abdomen.
"What next?" he prompted her.
"Hmmm? Oh! Uh...well, I guess...your belt?"
He held out his hands questioningly. "What about it?"
"Undo it!" she waved her hand airily. "Undo it!"
"Yes ma'am." He brought his hands slowly up to
his waist, watching the way her eyes followed every
movement. Unfastening the buckle, he left it hanging
open. "And now?"
Buffy licked her lips. Without taking her eyes off
him, she reached for the champagne bottle. "Unzip!"
Controlling his urge to laugh out loud, he did so, then
waited again.
Buffy poured champagne onto the table. When he
pointed at it, she dragged her eyes away from his body
and saw what she was doing.
Emitting a small "yikes!" she corrected her aim. Once
the glass was full, she picked it up and took a sip, then
carefully placed it back on the table and reached for the
sides of his trousers. With a firm yank, she pulled them
down and let them slip to the floor.
"Now," she said, swallowing hard and laying back
on the sofa. "Please me."
He stepped out of his pants and shrugged his shirt
off, then knelt beside the sofa and removed her
skirt. "Allow me."
Leaning forward, he kissed her inner thighs and
tugged off her underwear. "Does that please you?"
Buffy nodded shakily. "Yep."
Smiling, he lifted one of her legs until it rested on
the back of the sofa. He trailed his fingers down
her thigh, tickling her slightly.
"Tickling doesn't please," she stated.
"Yes, it does." He did it again, then followed
the path of his fingers with his tongue.
"Oh! I was wrong," Buffy gasped, caressing his
hair.
He kissed her along the neatly trimmed edge
of light brown curls. "Mmm...so sweet and soft."
Her eyes drifted closed as she lifted her hips
slightly. "More," she moaned.
With a wicked smile, he leaned over and dipped
his index finger in the champagne, then painted
her with it.
"Eeek!" she squealed at the cold sensation, her
eyes opening wide. Prepared to scold, she was
thrown completely off kilter when she felt his
tongue licking up the champagne.
He grinned at her and winked. "Just trickling it over
you and drinking it from between your thighs, love."
His tongue moved over her, darting in and out
like the serpent in the garden, tasting her.
Continuing to drink the champagne by annointing
her with it first, he lapped and sucked it off and
out of her.
Buffy dug her nails into the sofa cushion as his
tongue moved faster, soon joined by his probing
index finger.
Over and over, he dipped his finger into the
wine, then spread it over her yearning sex.
Over and over, he drank it from her.
His tongue slid gently back and forth, urging
her, pulling at her until she clamped her thighs
shut around his head. Panting and sobbing, she
ground herself against his hungry mouth and
then collapsed in a heap of orgasmic satis-
faction.
Then, keeping his gaze locked squarely with
hers, he picked up the glass of champagne
he'd been dipping his fingers into and drank
it down.
"Mmm..." he said, licking his lips. "Nectar of
Buffy."
~~~~~~~~~~
"If only tears were laughter
If only night was day
If only prayers were answered
Then we would hear God say..
No matter what they tell you
No matter what they do
No matter what they teach you
What you believe is true..."
~~~~~~~~~~
Upstairs in her bed, they moved against
each other, rolling all over the mattress.
He nuzzled and licked her breasts, making
her squeal, and she fondled and stroked
his dick, making him moan.
At one point, she lay stretched out on
top of him, grinding her center against
his rigid cock and they kissed and deeply,
their tongues darting into each others mouths,
leaving wet trails of saliva on their faces.
His hands skimmed down over the smooth
skin of her back, fingers curving over her
rump and squeezing it firmly.
There was nothing gentle or tender in their
lovemaking this time. It was wild and rough,
and equally demanding on each of them.
"Harder," he begged, pressing her more firmly
against his crotch, humping her tightly closed
thighs. "Let me in, dammit!"
Buffy's terminal shyness was on vacation, and
her slayer persona was peeking through. She
shoved him down prone on the bed and lifted
her upper body, tempting him with her breasts.
He lunged upwards immediately, his mouth
reaching for her flesh, but she teasingly moved
back, not allowing a full connection, although she
did let him touch her nipple with the very tip of
his tongue.
"Temptress," he grinned, redoubling his efforts
to capture her in his mouth. "Come on, baby...give
me some," he said gruffly.
Buffy smiled. Being in charge was fun...and
incredibly arousing. "Give you what?"
One of his hands moved up and tangled in
her hair, yanking her head back. "Let me suck on
those luscious tits of yours!"
His words almost destroyed her resolve to play
the tease...but not quite. She shimmied her
shoulders, making her breasts sway alluringly.
"Why should I?"
"William" was trying desperately to keep "Spike"
at bay, but it was becoming more and more
difficult to do with her behaving in such a way.
"Because...I'll kiss them and lick your nipples
until you scream for me to suck them hard. Let
me do it, baby...I'm hungry for them..." he panted.
Placing one hand beneath his jaw, she teased
his lips with her thumb, giggling when he took it
into his mouth and sucked it thoroughly.
Grinning up at her, he bit down on her thumb,
shaking it like a dog with a bone. "Not good
enough, babe...I want your tits."
Unwilling to wait another moment, he flipped
her over onto her back and took her right breast
in his hand, lifting it to his mouth.
"Mmmmm.." he moaned, covering her flesh
with his tongue. "Come on, baby," He nuzzled
her, opening his mouth over her nipple. "Feed
me."
The pleasure rocketing through her body
finally relaxed the tight clamp of her thighs,
and his lean hips fell into that cradle made
just for him. He ground his hard dick against
her wetness as he continued to feast at her
breast, grunting and panting lustily.
She plunged her fingers into his silky curls,
forcing his mouth down harder on her needy
flesh.
"Please," she whispered, wanting him inside
of her in the worst way. "Oh...William...please
love me....love me big...."
He released her nipple with a loud "pop" and
smiled into her dazed eyes. "I do love you," he
said. "And I have something very big to show
you how much."
And with no more warning than that...he reached
down and aimed, then fired himself into her like
a missile searching for her hot, wet core.
No gentle preliminaries were needed or given,
and he began thrusting into her hard and fast,
eliciting soft "oofs" from her every time he slammed
his hips between her legs.
"So good, baby...." he panted. "So hot and wet...the
tightest little pussy...creamy and sticky and warm...I
want to stay in you forever, lover...forever...yeah, that's
my girl...do it back, baby...fuck me hard...show me who
you love...who's your man...."
Buffy was incapable of responding coherently. All she
could do was push up every time he pushed down, meeting
each one of his thrusts with her own strong response.
"Gonna make you come hard, little girl," he said, licking
her ear. "Gonna make you give up all that cream, pussy-
cat...sweet kitty cat...you wanna come, kitty? Huh? Want
me to make you come?"
"Yah-huh" she nodded convulsively, her nails digging
into the churning muscle of his ass.
He shifted upwards a fraction, changing the angle
of his entry. "Gotta rub it against you right there...ohh,
that's good...so tight...feel it rub your clit, love? Feel
me rubbing my cock against it?"
'Yes," she said on a ragged breath. "I'm gonna...do it.
I am...I really am....oh God...."
"Do what?" he asked harshly. "What are you gonna do,
kitten? Tell me...tell me...ohh, FUCK!...say it!"
"Come," she moaned, feeling it begin down deep
in her vitals. "Right now...now...now...oh...oh...."
Clutching at him, she lifted her hips one final time,
soaking him with her creamy essence, as her face
contorted with agonizing pleasure.
Her hands caressed his shoulders and the
small of his back, touching him lightly as she
told him how much she loved him.
As her body relaxed beneath his, she thanked
whoever was responsible for making this beau-
tiful creature her lover...her mate. She didn't
care about anything else in the world right now
except for him.
And, as always, he was completely in a like
frame of mind. He was just able to articulate it
better than she was.
"Oh, sweetheart....I love you so much. No matter
what happens..I'll always love you. Promise me that
whatever else you think of me...don't ever believe
for a moment that I don't love you completely. Pro-
mise me that...and tell me you love me."
"I promise....and I love you. Forever...."
~~~~~~~~~~
"And I will keep you safe and strong
And sheltered from the storm
No matter where it's barren
Our dream is being born..."
~~~~~~~~~~
TBC....
Feedback is appreciated.
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