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Part 5

They were emphatically not talking about it. Nope, not even thinking about it. The weekend was going to last forever (and ever and ever). None of them would have to go to work or get on with their lives, they could just enjoy lots of really great sex and some food every now and then. And maybe some shower sex, just to mix things up. But they weren't thinking about any of that.

“I can't...fuck, too much, it's too much...” Spike dug his fingers into Liz's hips, keeping her steady and from pulling away. He made his tongue a sharp, unforgiving point at drove it rapidly into her clit, feeling it throb against the muscle. He twisted his fingers just so, caressing the spongy spot inside her channel, which spasmed around his fingers. “Spike!”

His chuckle turned into a full-out moan when Buffy tightened her incredibly powerful muscles around his cock. Fuckin' hell, where did those muscles come from? He felt like he was being strangled, his dick almost severed from his body by her tight, warm heat. Liz threw her head back and braced herself haphazardly against the headboard, trying to stay balances as the vibrations of Spike's vocalizations traveled straight through her clit. The man was better than any vibrator! And god she was close, so close.

Buffy had her eyes closed as she concentrated on riding Spike through the mattress. She heard the moans behind her, reactions to her movements, and it was a heady feeling. She was responsible for the pleasure of the two people behind her. Buffy angled her hips so Spike's gorgeous, amazing cock was rubbing against her G-spot on every stroke, and her clit was stimulated every time she drove down. She felt so full, so good.

She felt a dizzying rush of pleasure flow through her, the primer to the very intense orgasm she was just on the cusp of. So close, a few more strokes should do it. She briefly thought about slowing down, prolonging the experience, when Spike did some truly inspired hip-swivel and she was off. White-hot pleasure raced through her, waves crashing over one another, building and building. Spike's fingers were suddenly there, playing with her clit, forcing her into wave after wave of aftershocks. She wanted to cry out, to tell him to stop because it was too much, way too much, when another orgasm ripped through her. Every muscle tensed and she clutched Spike's legs hard enough to leave very discernible bruises. But FUCK. Her body shook as it came out of orgasm-rigors, trembling with release and that satiated fluidity that made moving so very hard after good (great, amazing, mind blowing) sex. She eased herself off of Spike's still rock-hard erection, sprawling off to one side.

Liz was so focused on keeping her balance that she didn't even register the move until Spike slid home inside of her. With that one stroke, Liz came hard around him, her walls fluttering in release, her back arched, her eyes staring unseeing at the wall as stars danced before her eyes. She felt Spike's teeth dig into her shoulder as he came too, the pain piggybacking on her pleasure and enhancing it. She collapsed onto the bed, her legs made of jello and her mind trying to piece itself back together. Spike was heavy on her back, a gasping cluster of nerve endings stuttering for breath and trying to regain its center.

God, if that happened on a regular basis, one (or all) of them was surly going to die.

Liz shivered when Spike rolled off, her body coated with cooling sweat. He pulled her up towards him, cradling her into one side as he pulled Buffy to the other. Liz was about to complain about getting stuck in the wet spot when she realized the entire bed was one huge wet spot, a testament to their marathon sexcapades and the sheer amount of energy they had put into their mutual pleasure. They drifted off into a contented sleep, far too relaxed to do much of anything.

A shrill noise jolted Spike out of his happy, warm bubble. The two bodies beside him, the only things keeping his rapidly cooling body warm, grumbled their displeasure. Spike stumbled out of the bed, taking a moment to appreciate how the two girls gravitated towards one another, and searched for his obnoxiously ringing phone (and by extension, his pants). When he found it, 6:30 blinked accusingly at him from the screen, the alarm bringing reality crashing down around his head. Soddin' work. He sighed and glanced at the lusciously naked bodies splayed on the bed. Hellfire and damnation! He resentfully pulled his pants on and found his very wrinkled shirt.

“Work?” a quite voice asked. Spike looked towards the voice and froze, totally transfixed. Buffy was propped up in the bed, her hand resting lightly on Liz's hip, both of them backlit by the soft light of dawn. Spike felt a dizzying rush pass through him, as if the past and the future had collided and formed one exquisitely perfect moment. His phone buzzed against his hip, startling him out of his reverie. Scowling, he flipped the offending machine open and glared at the message. And address glared back at him, and his scowl deepened. The real world was intruding on his dream.

“I gotta go,” Spike said softly, not wanting to wake Liz. He moved towards the bed, unable to stay away. He placed a chaste kiss on Liz's lips and caressed Buffy's bare hip with his hand. Gods he was a lucky bloke.

“I'll walk you out,” Buffy offered. Spike smiled and nodded. Buffy wrapped herself in a soft robe and linked her arms with Spike. Liz cracked one eye open and watched the stunning pair make their way out of the room, allowing Buffy her time to say goodbye to Spike alone and (if her sister was smart) get his number. She owed her twin that much, even if she wanted to cram as much time with the blonde Brit as possible. Her eyes fluttered closed of their own accord; great sex really did make her tired, and she drifted off into a deep, rejuvenating sleep.

Buffy escorted Spike to the door in silence, trying to figure out what to say to him that wasn't totally cliched or incredibly cheesy. She opened her door, but Spike lingered on the threshold. Buffy felt her heart rate increase as Spike worried his bottom lip, and she just had to have one more taste. She pulled him in for a deep, searching kiss and used his distraction to press a small piece of paper into his hand. She blushed as she realized she hadn't fooled him.

“You know, if you're bored or...whatever,” she mumbled. Spike grinned; his brash goddess was embarrassed about giving him her number. Shaking his head mockingly, Spike pulled out one of his business cards and presented it with a flourish.

“If you're bored or...” he looked her up and down appraisingly, “whatever.” Buffy laughed and shoved him playfully out the door, though she desperately wanted him to stay, to remain in this cocoon of warmth they'd built around themselves, away from the real world. “See you around pet.”

“Yeah, you'd better,” Buffy challenged. She grinned as Spike walked backwards away from her, keeping her in sight as long as possible. He paused and blew her a kiss before vanishing from sight. Staring at where Spike used to be, Buffy heaved a huge sigh. She was so doomed.


A/N: A couple of little things: Happy New Year! I hope everyone rang in 08 in style and had a wonderful National Hangover Day afterwards. I did. While I don't have anything too fun to post (YET), I wanted to let the LJers out there know that I finally caved and opened an LJ as Xela_fic (http://xela-fic.livejournal.com/). Yes, I know, just what I need, something ELSE to keep track of. But that's part of my New Year's Resolution (not really). So if you're on LJ, hit me up! Oh, and Blood Faerie is a truly insidious influence.





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