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Spike woke up slowly the next morning, feeling extremely relaxed. He grinned into his pillow as the reason for his relaxation returned to him in full Technicolor, proving that at least one part of him wasn’t relaxed. He heard the shower cut off and a now-familiar voice singing something from down the hall. Spike slipped into his pants, eager to find his Buffy and see if some morning lovin’ was a possibility…because he knew without a doubt that last night hadn’t been a one time thing. He wanted more. Much more.

He walked down the hall, grinning like an idiot in love.

“So kiss me, and smile for me…tell me that you’ll wait for me. Hold me like you’ll never let me go-o!” Smirking, Spike knocked lightly on the door. “Come in.”

Spike slouched against the door frame, pushing the door open with one hand. His girl was wrapped in a fluffy towel, her hair up in a turban. She was looking at him with wide, green eyes. A flush started traveling down her neck, under the collar. Spike wanted to rip the robe off of her right there.

“Um…Sorry, I didn’t m—“ Spike silenced her with a kiss, delighting in the heat that passed between them. A man could easily get lost in feelings like this. He heard her startled squeak, a laughed, picking her up and putting her against the counter.

“Not a problem, luv,” he murmured. He kissed her again, loosening her robe so he could feel the skin underneath. He left her lips free while he explored the smooth column of her neck, nibbling at the skin. There was something different about her taste now, fresh out of the shower, but he reveled in it none the less.

“I…I don’t—Oh God! You don’t undejesus!” He chuckled against her neck as one hand pinched her nipple, rolling the hard nubbin between the pads of his fingers. She moaned, forgetting whatever trivial matter she’d been trying to bring up. Probably some nonsense about the morning after conversation. Well, he figured this would sum up his feelings on the matter quite nicely.

“I’m so hard for you, pet.” He ground himself into her just in case she doubted his sincerity. “I want you so badly, from the moment I laid eyes on you. You’re beautiful, perfect, my goddess.” He released her hair from the turban, her water-darkened locks falling around her shoulders. But he was captivated by her lust-dilated eyes that commanded him, begged him to take her. Spike pulled her to the edge of the counter, settling his jean-clad hardness against her.

“What do you want?” he asked her, his eye boring into her soul. He saw a moment’s hesitation before she yanked his mouth to hers, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him close.

“Good answer,” he gasped playfully, nipping at her lower lip. He pushed his pants down around his knees, giving himself enough room to move. He pulled her hips towards him, rubbing his cock up and down her slick slit. He took himself in hand, and rubbed the blunt tip across her clit, one hand holding her squirming hips in place.

“Oh my God!” she gasped out.

“I’ve been called worse,” he quipped, before slipping the head of his cock into her. He entered her slowly this time, wanting to draw the sensations out. Using short, shallow strokes, he sheathed himself in centimeters, listening to her increasingly colorful language as he teased her. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he silenced her with a passionate kiss, and drove fully into her silken heat, shuddering at the feeling.

She flailed, searching for purchase, and bottles crashed unnoticed to the floor. They were too wrapped up in one another to care bout anything else. She braced her hands against the sink, raising her hips to meet each of his thrusts, but she couldn’t quite get the angle right. With a sexy growl, he picked her up, still buried deep inside, and settled on the floor, his heated back against the cool tile.

“Ride me, gorgeous,” he whispered. Those devilish muscles clenched around him, strangling his cock. “G’damn!”

She started slowly, quick twitches of her hips that had him panting and pleading with her for more. She slowly lowered her head, long hair trailing lightly over his chest.

“That’s what you get for teasing me.” Spike moaned, and she never faltered in her frustrating little movements.

“Please,” he whimpered. He jerked and shouted when she squeezed him, her inner muscles slowly tightening around him in a pleasure/pain he never wanted to escape from. She moved over him, sliding on to him, tightening, and releasing as she slid off. It was like nothing he had ever felt.

She kept up her madding pace, teasing him and drawing him farther and farther into the primitive place in his mind where higher thought did not exist. Their mingled pants and moans echoed off the tiled bathroom walls. It was when she bent over and bit him that Spike’s control finally snapped.

He flipped them over, jerking her legs higher around him. Staring into her eyes, black rimmed with a thin coronet of green, he drove into her fast and deep. Her nails dug into his back as she held on, urging him faster.

“So…close…” she panted, but Spike was too gone to make sense of words. Her body told him all he needed to know. He angled his thrusts so he hit the hard, throbbing nub with his pelvic bone at every trust. He played her body instinctively, pulling her towards the edge. Her body went rigid as her orgasm ripped through her, her inner muscles clamping down on him and triggering his own orgasm. He bit down on the chorded muscles of her neck, bruising the tender flesh beneath and marking her as his.

He collapsed on top of her, unable to do anything but try and suck the air back into his lungs. He felt his golden goddess stirring beneath him, making the cutest little snuffling grunts and satisfied sounds.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting,” an amused voice cut through his after glow, but Spike couldn’t even begin to care if Buffy’s roommate or whatever had just walked in on them. He’d had the most amazing sex of his life twice in one day; nothing in this world could bother him right now. With great effort, he pushed himself up, making sure his body hid the woman beneath him.

“Sorry, we we-hat the soddin’ hell?” OK, so he’d been wrong, there was something that could cut though best-sex-of-his-life-happiness. Buffy was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, green eyes glittering. He looked back to the woman underneath him who was…Buffy. Smirk firmly affixed to her face, eyes still hazy with satisfaction. “What? But you're...there are...WHAT?!”

“You always meet the smartest people,” the woman beneath him sighed.

“He’s pretty, he doesn’t need to be smart,” the other one replied. Spike was looking from one to the other, trying desperately to get his brain to work. There was no way…this was absolutely impossible…what the hell?

“Buffy?” he asked in confusion, looking down at the woman he’d just fucked five ways to Sunday.

“Hi, I’m Liz!” she said with a small wave.





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