At her bachelorette party, Buffy had been pulled aside by her bridesmaid Cordelia, a friend from childhood whose father owned the very country club where she was to be married. The slightly tipsy woman had sat the bride to be down in the back of the nightclub where they were celebrating, and began a comprehensive class on how to handle her wedding night. Buffy had stuttered at the graphic words coming out of her friend’s mouth, but Cordelia had rolled her eyes.
”The virgin thing is cute, Buffy. I mean, to guys it’s all about the dominance, am I right? And seriously babe, don’t be afraid to say what you want. No way he’ll know otherwise, men are simple that way. Go after what you want.”
Keeping that speech in mind, Buffy murmured exactly what she wanted.
“I want you, Spike.”
She felt her knees shaking when Spike smiled at her words and began to kiss her as he had earlier. Dominating, desperate, yet almost…reverent. His lips were impossibly perfect, sometimes molding themselves to hers sweetly, sometimes hard and forcefully passionate. His tongue danced with hers and explored every inch lightly, then more confidently caressed her until she had to pull away, gasping.
Everything fell away but the two of them. Their pasts, both recent and distant, their futures, their pain. There was nothing left in the world but Buffy and Spike..
They could hear the rain falling outside the room’s small window, a light, gentle drumming on the glass. Aside from that, the only noise was their lips meeting and parting, and the short, shallow breaths they expelled. With such silence, in the faint light, Buffy could focus on the feel of his arms holding her so tightly to his chest, how soft his hair was when her fingers ran through it, the taste of his mouth on hers. Every sense was heightened in the quiet, making each action seem like the most intense sensation she’d ever experienced. Spike could savor the soft flesh of her hip, the smell of the rain on her skin, the heat of her body through her clothes.
Wanting no barriers between them, Buffy pulled his shirt over his head again and tossed it on the ground. She then leaned forward to press light butterfly kisses to his abs and chest, her hands roaming his arms and shoulders, exploring every muscle and curve with confident fingers. She wanted to mark every inch of him, wanted to be able to take comfort in the fact that there wasn’t a part of him she didn’t touch.
Groaning slightly as she lightly bit his nipple and dragged her fingers in the indentation of his pelvis, it became harder for Spike to keep his control. He brought his hands to her face and lifted her head up, pressing their lips together again fiercely, fingers twisted in her hair and in the fabric of her shirt to keep her as close to him as possible. He was rock hard already, craving more of her, thinking nothing but her name over and over again in his mind as he gently cupped her breast.
As he was sufficiently distracted by her lips, Buffy dropped her hands to his waist, and with deft fingers unfastened his pants. Trying to suppress her nerves as much as possible, she tasted the skin on his chest, breathed in his scent, and arched into his touch. It was overwhelming how desperately she wanted him.
“Oh, fuck,” Spike swore, voice heated and dry, as his cock sprang out of his pants into Buffy’s waiting and willing hand. He hadn’t even noticed her fingers at his belt, he’d been so consumed with her, and the shock of having her soft, small hand on him was enough to pull a string of expletives from his lips. Her firm grip hardened him further, and her free hand cupped his ass as her lips traveled to his throat and lightly nibbled at his tender skin.
“God, that feels…” Spike encouraged as the steady rhythm of her pumping started driving him crazy.
Buffy suddenly pushed him backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed, where he fell to a seated position. She began to kneel willingly between his legs, and relished the sharp intake of breath from above her. Their eyes connected for a moment, and Spike smiled reverently down at her, one hand cupping her face gently. Buffy nuzzled into his touch for a moment, before returning her focus to his erection.
This, she could do. This she was used to, experienced at. It was always everything but, with Angel, Well at least, she did the everything. She knew the basics, the foreplay, what to do with her mouth, her hands. She knew how drive to a man crazy with her touch. And she wanted to make Spike crazy, make an impression on his mind. She didn’t want to fade into his memory having made no impact.
Her hands grasped him again, exploring every inch of his flesh with light caresses. Buffy trailed one finger up and down, then stroked small circles on the wet head of Spike’s cock. She explored every inch of him, memorizing the feel of his soft skin under her fingertips, then suddenly darted out her tongue to imprint his taste into her mind as well.
Spike let out a low rumble, lightly stroked the wet blonde hair touching his legs, then gathered it in a low ponytail at the back of Buffy’s head. When more of his erection was taken into her hot mouth, and her hand stroked his balls, he couldn’t help but vocalize his enjoyment.
“God, Buffy…just like that, yeah…yeah…so beautiful…”
He couldn’t tear his eyes away, hypnotized by the sight of her pink lips wrapped around his shaft, her eyes fluttering delicately. But when her movements quickened and her grip tightened, threatening to make him spill himself far sooner than he meant to, he stopped her. He didn’t want to lose himself in his own pleasure. Tonight was about her.
Spike lifted her up, flipped her on her back, and quickly pulled her tank top over her head. “Want to see you,” he explained simply when he caught the dazed look in her eyes from the sudden change of pace, and the slight blush of embarrassment at her nudity. “Don’t be nervous, kitten. You’re in charge here, won’t do anything you don’t want.” He moved his hands to her waist, and watched her face intently. Buffy nodded at his unspoken request.
Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Spike slid her pants over her hips and down her legs, and his eyes darkened to a stormy blue. He nearly licked his lips as he slid his gaze down and savored his first view of her spread naked before him. His eyes slid over hard nipples at the center of pale triangles, a valley of tanned, flat flesh down to her legs, and another patch of pale, shaved skin.
“Gorgeous,” he proclaimed firmly, as he bent to kiss every inch of that golden skin. He went from her throat to her shoulder, down the very edge of her tan lines to her ribs and belly, back up between her breasts and down one arm, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, and Buffy began to breathe louder. His fingers followed behind his mouth, and delicately caressed the inside of her bicep.
“Stop it!” she giggled abruptly, yanking her hand away. “That tickles!”
“But your skin’s so soft there,” Spike murmured mischievously, his mood turning playful, leaning down further to kiss her shaved mound, inhaling her scent happily. “Mmm. Soft here, too. Like velvet. Open up, love.”
Buffy did so obediently, spreading her legs and revealing her sex. She began to pant faster as Spike moved to her mouth and he lightly traced the edges of her lips with pointed tongue, while his hand dipped between her thighs, parting her folds and lightly dragging his thumb up and down.
She cried out happily, and she wasn’t the only one finding pleasure in this basic, introductory act. Spike was finding himself completely captivated by her reactions to his littlest movements, as if everything was new and unfamiliar. He found himself wondering how much time Angel had ever spent trying to give Buffy pleasure. Her confidence earlier showed she’d likely let the bastard into her mouth, brought him that same searing bliss that Spike had felt, and the idea that the favor had never been returned heightened his hatred. He vowed to show her what she’d been missing.
As Spike’s tongue slowly traveled from her breast to her pussy, Buffy moved one hand to grasp his shoulder, needing to touch him to calm her nerves. She refused to admit that this was something new and unfamiliar to her, so she tried not to let her fear show. Yet, Spike seemed to know that fact without her saying a word.
“No one’s tasted you, have they?” After she shook her head, his tone took on an intense, desperate quality. “You’ll let me, though. Let me taste you? Could make you feel so good, love.”
“Yes, I…God, please, yes,” she forced out, short on air, hardly able to stand the aching between her legs, the tightness in her stomach, the tingling of her skin. It was all his doing, something solely connected to Spike. Angel had never, not once, invoked this reaction, and it even furthered solidified her belief that she never should have married him. To do so would have been to condemn herself to a life without this kind of passion.
Spike took a deep, calming breath before slowly, tentatively licking a path around Buffy’s entire pussy, then up and down the direct center, letting her get used to the new feeling. His fingers came into play next, lightly tracing the edge of her tight entrance, more firmly once he felt it relax slightly. Buffy cried out in pleasure as he lightly flicked his tongue on her clit, then moved to dive it inside of her and rubbing her bundle of nerves with his thumb.
The unprecedented sensations caused her to melt in mere moments, her hand falling from Spike’s shoulder to the bed as she arched her back, bringing herself closer to his touch. She wanted to recite the naughty litany running through her mind, but felt awkward about saying the erotic words. Instead she just let loose quiet cries and moans, her hands clutching the sheet beneath her.
The sounds drove Spike to distraction, and he pulled his mouth away to murmur, “Got my next question, baby. Do you like that?”
“I…yes…” Buffy nodded eagerly, happy to answer any question he had as long as he kept softly rubbing her clit.
“Next question,” he smirked proudly. “Want more?”
“Yes, I…want…”
Spike growled and moved his mouth back to her flesh, tongue and lips working her clit as he slid one finger inside of her, and curled it up towards him.
No embarrassment was felt as she cried out Spike’s name, and begged, “Oh, don’t stop…please…”
He groaned his approval as he tasted more evidence of her arousal. The exquisite flavor of her imprinted itself in his mind, and his cock throbbed to the point of pain.
The orgasm hit Buffy’s body with sudden, unexpected force, and she arched her back and curled her hands into fists. She continued to come as Spike’s tongue began to move even faster, tracing frantic circles around her flesh. A slight bit of discomfort infiltrated her pleasure as he added more fingers and stretched her gently, preparing her to accept him into her body. The minor pain faded quickly as three of his fingers filled her, and she felt her body begin to respond again.
“One more time, baby, come for me again,” Spike purred, fingers moving a bit faster. He returned his mouth to her clit, a smile curling his lips. He nibbled her lightly with his teeth, and she came again instantly, babbling her enjoyment as her muscles clenched tightly.
Spike groaned as he pulled his mouth away, pumping the last few tremors out of her body slowly with his fingers. Buffy was a sight, all flushed and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat, lips parted and eyes glazed.
“Mine.” The word was all breath, hardly audible, but Buffy nodded automatically, not caring what she was agreeing too but knowing there’s little she’d deny Spike.
“Yes. Yours.”
He crawled up her body slowly, leaving a kiss on each inch of flesh he passed. When he arrived at her mouth he licked it teasingly, leaving the trace of her own flavor on Buffy’s lips. Their kiss deepened, and she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling completely sated until Spike leaned forward and pressed his erection into her thigh. A flush of passion surged through her body again and she pulled away from him.
“Spike, please…I want you…” Buffy whispered softly, dragging one finger lightly down one angled cheekbone.
It wasn’t a sultry come on, or an erotic ploy, rather a sincerely passionate plea said in the sweetest tone of voice. The affection for this woman hit Spike hard, and he shuddered under the weight of it. He leaned over to his nightstand quickly and fished for a condom in the top drawer, hands shaking slightly, mentally berating himself for being so nervous. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered when he couldn’t find anything, and almost panicked until he realized he’d already shoved his stash into the duffel bag for the next morning.
“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked.
“Condom. Sorry, love. One sec,” Spike said, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose before rolling away. He yanked his pants back up and jumped out of bed quickly, heading to the black bag waiting by the door. He fished in the outside pocket slowly, taking a minute to calm down after his fingers closed around the box.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before, many times, yet he was the one who felt nervous, far more than Buffy seemed to be. Her confidence surprised him, intrigued him. She was so inherently sensual, and he got to be the one to bring it out of her, to enjoy it first. Every emotion, every sensation was new to her, and he could read them through her eyes, her shivers, her words. It made him tremble.
Spike turned, small silver packet in hand, to see naked, beautiful Buffy lying on his bed, looking like a fantasy come to life. Which in fact, she was. A fantasy he didn’t even know he had.
“I’m getting cold,” she pouted, no longer concerned with her nudity as she rolled on her side and rested her head on her hand.
“Oh, pouty!” Spike moved towards the bed, fixating on Buffy’s mouth. “Look at that lip. Gonna get it…” He dove for the bed and captured her giggles with his mouth, his own chuckles sending vibrations throughout both of them.
Basking in the euphoria of their free, easy interaction, Spike pulled away and stood again, sliding his jeans the rest of the way down and mumbling his annoyance when they got caught on the boots he had never bothered to remove.
“Hurry up, buddy, before I change my mind,” Buffy said.
Spike turned to her worriedly, but upon seeing her devious smirk, a spitting image of his own, he replied, “Don’t even think about it. Bossy little chit.”
He began to frantically unlace his shoes, and Buffy moved to press herself against his back. She kissed his shoulder softly, missing the warmth of his body though he had hardly been gone from her embrace any time at all.
Spike could feel her smile on the back of his neck, and her touch prompted him to move faster. He kicked off his boots, stripped off his socks, kicked his pants away, then spun to capture his lover’s lips in a kiss. His hands ripped the condom packet open blindly, then a gentle touch stopped him before he could sheath himself in the rubber.
“Can I…um, put it on?” Buffy asked hopefully.
“Of course, pet,” nodded Spike, handing her the packet. “You can do anything you want.” When she paused and looked quickly from his erection to her hand a few times, he continued, “Just put it like this, love…good…and roll it down…”
As Buffy’s small hands slowly slid the condom down his length, Spike stroked her thigh and arched slightly into the touch of her hand. When she was finished, and looked up at him expectantly, he checked himself quickly before leaning to slide his tongue between Buffy’s lips. He maintained the contact of their mouths as he rolled her over onto her back again, then pulled back to take a breath as he brushed a lock of hair off of her forehead. The urge to drive into her with one long stroke was hard to ignore, but even her soft grin couldn’t distract him from how tense her muscles were beneath his body, and the innocence in her wide-eyed gaze as the head of his cock first touched the lips of her sex.
“This might hurt a bit, love,” Spike warned gently, as he gripped his erection and slid it up and down her wet entrance. Just that second of contact made him shiver, even through the condom it was like her flesh had burned him.
“I know that. It’s okay,” she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gripped him tightly, heart pounding as every inch of her skin hummed.
Spike slid one hand up her arm to grab her hand, intertwining their fingers firmly as he pushed himself a few inches inside of her. Enjoying the gasp of pleasure from her, he pumped his hips gently a few more times, working his way in fully and finding no barrier to her wet channel, for which he was grateful. She was impossibly, maddeningly tight, though, even more so than he’d imagined, and he pushed forward more when she moaned and bit her lip.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, staying still once he was fully inside her. The feel of her below him, around him, was glorious, heavenly even, so perfectly fitted to his own body, so responsive as he lightly stroked her breast. He savored the feeling, then asked worriedly, “Is it bad?”
“No, not really,” Buffy shook her head, feeling only slight pain from being stretched for the first time. “It doesn’t really hurt. I’m good.” Her breath hitched slightly as she squeezed her muscles around him experimentally.
Spike groaned loudly in response and tentatively thrust his hips once, then twice, achingly slow, staring into her eyes for any sign of regret. Buffy said nothing, just nodded slowly, hand still tightly clenching his above her head. Spike gritted his teeth, trying not to focus on how it felt to slide in and out of her, focusing instead on the expression on Buffy’s face, trusting and wanting and eager.
“Oh, God!” she moaned quietly, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted slightly . “Yes…”
“Yeah, like that?” Spike’s voice was ragged, and turned her on further, if that was even possible. “That feel good, baby?”
“Yes, yes.” Buffy’s voice was throaty, raw, and womanly for the first time, and her eyes glimmered with surprise at the sound, a contrast Spike found irresistible. “You can…faster …” She breathed tentatively.
He moved quicker, on command, drinking in the vision below him that was gradually shedding her inhibitions. A litany of praise fell from his lips, giving her more confidence, and she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist.
“Buffy, love… so good, bloody perfect…yes, pet, that’s my girl…” He felt himself becoming hypnotized by every thing she did, the way she arched beneath him, the way her eyes opened and shut every few seconds. He gasped when her nails suddenly dug slightly into his shoulders, and shifted his hips to more directly hit her clit with every thrust. Buffy began to raise her hips to meet his, and they fell into a fluid rhythm as if they’d known each other’s bodies for years.
Spike felt certain this was the best it had ever been, or ever would be again.
But then, she cried out his name. His real name, not the moniker he’d hidden behind for years. And the name William had never sounded so sweet on anyone else’s lips, and her eyes stayed open to fixate on his. She smiled, a replica of that first smile he’d seen grace her face outside the bar. A genuine smile he was sure was meant only for him.
And at that, he knew he was permanently, irrecoverably lost to her. He’d clung hard to a shred of strength as he’d made love to her thus far, fighting to keep himself from falling for her. But his past history should have taught him better. He was forever a slave to his emotions, which were always fierce and all-consuming. Whether love or hate or anger he gave himself over to it fully, incapable of ignoring his heart.
Spike paused in his movement, briefly, hit with the full weight of his feelings, but quickly began to pump inside her again, trying valiantly to concentrate on the present, not the future he realized could never be. He didn’t think he deserved the paradise he was currently experiencing, the raw, pure perfection he felt. He had no right to slide his cock into the tightest, sweetest, most beautiful woman he’d ever known. But despite these beliefs, Spike realized he could be happy with her forever, a thought he tried to dismiss as insanity. Mere hours couldn’t produce this kind of connection, but there was no denying the things he felt towards Buffy, but he told himself there was no way she could feel the same.
“I think…Spike, god…don’t ever stop…” she gripped his shoulders tighter, a needy cry falling from her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to say more, to follow her plea with a demand that he stay with her longer, all night, past the morning when she meant to let him go. But she bit it back and cried out again, her breath coming faster and faster. The tension that had been rising inside of her increased quickly, and what almost felt like a tight ball of heat grew in her center. She knew logically what was happening to her body, but the overwhelming, surprising force of her passion still caught her off guard.
The thought of his departure was chased away quickly by Spike as he squeezed her hand and roughly commanded, “Look at me, Buffy.” She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with awe, her own passion reflected in his gaze. He began to move even faster.
“Spike…”
“Yeah, pet…come for me…”
“I’m…I feel…”
All thinking ceased then, for a few long moments, as a final thrust sent her over the edge. Buffy savored the rush of energy over her body, the tightening of her muscles, coming harder when Spike moved to grind his pelvis hard against hers. She knew she was babbling but could hardly hear her own voice, just the panting above her and the roar of blood in her ears.
The rush of emotions that came along with her pleasure were just as overwhelming as her orgasm, and the fear of losing him returned full force. She bit back another cry, as he shuddered above her, and slid his arm under her lower back to pull her even closer to his hips. He thrust into her a few more times before he roared out his own climax, his grip on her tight to the point of bruising, his face buried in her neck. Their fingers were still intertwined.
Spike panted heavily as his orgasm subsided, his face pressed into the pillow under Buffy’s head. He didn’t want to give into the poetry forming in his mind, but there was no way to deny how hard he’d just come, his body limp and sapped of all energy, both physical and emotional.
His lips were pressed to her ear, her head was buried in the crook of his neck, each unable to look at the other for fear of being the first to crack, to beg the other for more than they’d agreed upon. Spike surrendered to his feelings first, kissing the shell of her ear repeatedly as he regained his breath.
“You’re bloody perfect,” he mumbled. “Such a wonderful woman, Buffy…never felt like…” He stopped his own words and moved to kiss her sweetly, hoping to convey his thoughts in that way.
“Be right back, baby.” Spike moved to turn off the light and take off the condom, while Buffy turned on her side and shimmied under the sheets, raising one hand to surreptitiously wipe away the single tear that threatened to fall from her eye. It was a tear she didn’t even realize was forming, and one she couldn’t really understand the cause of, yet it wetted her cheek just the same.
She was completely sated, awash in her afterglow, yet found herself battling sadness as she listened to Spike move around. She found herself wanting to say a million things to him, to confess things she could barely understand, but bit her lip to stay silent. After just seconds she found herself gathered back up in strong arms, Spike’s front to her back, and he kissed her on the neck, cheek and shoulder as he pulled the blanket over them fully.
“That was amazing,” he sighed, grasping her hands in one of his, covering them entirely. His other hand skimmed down her side to rest lightly on her hip, tracing small circles there. His cock was still half hard after spending the night wanting her desperately, but worried about hurting the girl.
“It was?”
“Didn’t you think so?”
“Oh, yes! I…yes,” Buffy relaxed into his form, body drained of all strength after the whirlwind that was her day, and the intense rush of adrenaline threatening to drown her. “I just…I didn’t know it would be like that.”
His chuckle soothed her, the rumbles of his body against hers lulling her into a sense of security. “Yeah, it isn’t always. We’re just special. Actually, you’re the special one.”
“Special, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I like being special.” Buffy felt her self falling asleep quickly, the affects of the alcohol and her orgasm pulling her towards oblivion. “As long as it’s not like, Mom saying I’m special, but meaning I’m stupid.”
“Never, pet,” he laughed again, inhaling deeply at her neck, trying to memorize her scent to store away for all the coming nights when he wouldn’t have her in his arms like this. “Comfortable?”
“Totally. I feel like…boneless. Mmm.”
Spike flushed with pride, then moved a bit closer to her. “Sorry the bed’s so small.”
“Like it small,” she mumbled. “Means we have to stay close.”
“Close is good.” He could hear her breath slowing, and chose to let her rest, despite his body’s desire to have her again.
The rain had petered out, but the clouds hanging in the sky shielded the moon and stars from providing any sort of light. The bedroom was dark, illuminated only by an outside street lamp, but as close as he was Spike could make out the curve of Buffy’s cheek, the swell of her lips, and their hands clasped together. He felt so unworthy of the gift she’d given him, yet felt selfish enough to dream of the possibility of being the only man to ever have the pleasure.
“Sleepy, pet?”
“Mmm.”
Buffy was hardly aware of anything anymore, sounds and feelings fading away as her eyes drifted shut. She managed to focus her thoughts enough to realize she didn’t regret a second of her day, or her night.
“Where did I find you?” Spike whispered into the dark after a few minutes, his grip on her tightening possessively.
“The Sunnydale Country Club?” Buffy replied sleepily, missing entirely the raw need in her lover’s voice. He smiled, though, at her response and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Sleep now, no more questions.”
“Alright. Goodnight, love.”
She said nothing, already fast asleep.
Spike wanted to follow her over the edge into unconsciousness, wanted to push away the melancholy creeping over him, but it was impossible. He wanted to savor every second, make the most out of the rest of the night. He wanted to wake her up and confess how hard he was falling, wanted to take her again and again until she was coming around him and telling him she felt the same.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Instead, as he held his lover in his arms, he satisfied his desires by whispering to her sleeping form.
“Where did you come from, Buffy? You weren’t… You don’t even know how amazing you are, pet…I wish I could show you, wish I was good enough for you…God, you’re in my gut…my throat…I’m drowning in you. Drowning.”
The faint light of dawn was peeking through his window before Spike finally managed to fall asleep.
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Banner by dampersandspoonsAuthor's Chapter Notes:
FINALLY, I bring you the sexysexy chapter of "Speak Now". I rewrote this little brat at least half a dozen times, and major thanks to Shadowsbabe for her invaluable help. I'd sincerely appreciate any feedback you all have to give!
Chapter End Notes:
Worth the wait? No? Either way, say so! (End poem.)