Buffy shifted in Spike’s arms, raising her head slightly. “How late is it?”
“Two, maybe three.”
“Guess I’ve got to stay until morning.” She paused. “Ugh. Now I’m sounding one-night-standy.”
He smirked. “You’re forgettin’ one thing, pet.”
“What’s that?”
“You don’t have a car here. You’re at my mercy until daylight.”
“Oh, am I?” Buffy giggled. “What will I do until morning?”
Spike grinned, his hand skimming up her body. “I’m sure we can think of something.”
“Like what?” she ask innocently.
He shifted to pull her flush against him, and she felt a sudden hardness pressing into her.
A mischievous smile tugged at her lips, though she was facing away from him. “At the mercy of a vampire. What will he do to me?”
Spike ran his tongue up the back of her neck. “Nothin’ you don’t want,” he purred.
His hand moved from around her waist, slipping up to her breasts and traveling between them several times before he settled on one and traced his fingers around it in a circular motion. A breath escaped her lips as he suddenly squeezed her.
Then his mouth was on her, sucking at the area between her neck and her shoulder as he slowly but firmly pushed his erection against her. His hand left her breast and slid down to her thigh, grasping her hipbone and pulling her to him as he lazily thrust.
Buffy moved her leg slightly, thinking he wanted to do it from behind. However, Spike only continued to rub against her, in spite of the better access.
A moment more and he pulled away, laying Buffy on her back as he sat halfway up. He threw the blanket off them, and she shivered suddenly. Under the covers she’d had her own body heat at least.
Spike crawled to hover above her midsection, planting himself over her on all fours. Waiting, she looked up at him.
“Let’s do this slow, yeah?”
Buffy shivered again. For an entirely different reason.
“Okay,” she breathed.
He smiled with his tongue behind his teeth and then directed his gaze downward. Buffy followed his eyes and watched as he lowered his hips just enough to press the tip of his cock against her opening. She shifted, her legs falling open as she rose slightly to meet him. He moved up, causing the head to push directly against her clit.
Buffy sucked her breath in as her head rolled back. She could only find it in herself to stare blankly at the ceiling as he skillfully continued his ministrations to her. The lights were still on, she noticed, from when they had come in all those hours ago. An old ceiling fixture with just one dim bulb burning provided the only illumination in the room.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice husky. “Look at us.”
She glanced at his face and then looked down between them, watching as he jutted against her.
Spike continued to nudge at her, expertly hitting the small spot again and again. He ran more of his length over her, thrusting up and down at an angle, his erection hitting her clit every time he dragged it against her.
The last time he did it agonizingly slowly before he shifted his hips and settled snugly between her legs.
When he didn’t immediately move, she looked at him. “Aren’t you going to…?”
“That comes later.” An eyebrow went up as he smirked.
The rest of his body came down to cover hers, and the coolness of the air was replaced by the coolness of his skin. Buffy quivered.
He brushed a hand along her hairline. “Cold?”
“No.”
Spike ran his hand down her side, from under her arm to past her hip, and then back up again. “You’re so warm.”
“And you’re not. So it works.”
“Right you are, pet.”
He ran his hand down her body again. “Now where were we?” he rumbled.
Spike threaded his hand between them, kneading her as he traveled lower. He cupped her between her legs, and she felt one finger push against her entrance, slowly teasing her, seemingly having no intention of actual penetration.
She arched to meet him, but Spike moved his hand back. Then he smiled, and suddenly there were two fingers pressed against her.
He paused and then quickly pushed them in.
Buffy gasped and closed her eyes at the sudden sensation. When she looked up again, she saw that Spike’s eyes hadn’t left her face. He slowly began to pull his fingers in and out, and she gripped at the arm he halfway leaned on, her hand tightening around the muscles.
He was watching her expression like he was trying to memorize it, as his fingers did slow, wonderful, horrible things to her.
It was so quiet; her panting breath was the only sound in the room.
A moment later, he settled on a twisting, curling movement, fingers fully embedded as he languidly explored the area inside her.
Spike brought his face down to hers, kissing her everywhere. Her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. He worked his way around the side of her face, nipping on her earlobes and muttering things she couldn’t catch.
Then he was on her neck. Nibbling and nipping, but mostly kissing. The front, the sides, low by her collarbone, high under her chin—lavishing the sort of attention that previous lovers had only paid to her breasts. It must be a vampire thing, about the neck.
Spike sucked and kissed at her throat as his fingers continued to move within her. He was working his way down, lips moving over her breasts, tongue exploring the valley between them before he took one into his mouth. At first he seemed to be trying to devour the whole of it, to have as much of her flesh in his mouth as possible. Then he was licking circles around her nipple, gently tugging on it with his teeth.
Buffy brought her hand to the back of his head as Spike switched to her other breast, giving it the same attentions. But despite her efforts to hold him there, before she knew it he was gone, moving down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach as she wriggled beneath him. His weight slid off her and his hand slipped out of her as he moved to take up a position between her legs.
She looked down suddenly. “What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?”
He started to lower his head.
“You—you don’t have to.”
Spike frowned, studying her for a moment. Then, “No one’s ever done this for you, have they, love?”
“Are you kidding? Boyfriend number one said, ‘Ew, Buffy,’ the one and only time that the subject came up, and guy number two who made me wake up alone? Please.”
“So what you’re sayin’…” He paused, then grinned. “…is that you’re like a virgin.”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “Virgin Buffy.”
Spike licked his lips. “Virgin Buffy, I like the sound o’ that.”
“You don’t have to,” she repeated.
He tilted his head. “Do you really not want me to? Or do you just think I don’t wanna do it?”
Buffy looked at him. He was serious, she realized. No one had ever wanted to do it to her before. Oral sex seemed to be regarded as something of a chore in general; she couldn’t have asked him to. But he had started it, and of course she’d always wondered what it would feel like.
And now, seeing him, hovering just above her—Spike’s lips, Spike’s tongue—
“I want it,” she whispered.
Spike smiled.
Then he was on her, his mouth against her as he used his hands to spread open her thighs. He stayed like that for a moment before he pulled back and slowly licked around her, exploring her folds and purposefully avoiding the place that she wanted him most.
It already felt amazing. Buffy couldn’t help thrusting against him, trying to increase the friction and the contact. Her right leg automatically found its way over his shoulder, as if to hold him to her.
Spike brought his mouth close again, breathing against her. She felt him bring a finger up and run it over her before he began to stroke her clit. He pressed his face to her. It seemed like she could feel every contour of his features—his nose bumped against her, his chin rubbed below, even his cheekbones cut into the tendons of her thighs.
And his mouth covered her slit. She arched against him, desperate to feel more pressure against her hole.
Spike pushed his tongue in, and Buffy was lost.
The feeling of his tongue inside her was like nothing she’d imagined. Spike’s mouth was open full against her, his tongue buried within her, moving, curling, tasting, twisting. She cried out, her hands winding in the sheets as he began to push his tongue in and out while pinching at her clit.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, he switched, his fingers moving once again to fill her as he brought his mouth to her clit. Spike circled it with his tongue, licking her, teasing her, while his fingers pumped in and out of her.
When he began to suck, she writhed, thrashing on the bed as he felt herself starting to come. Spike’s lips closed down on her, sucking and pulling at her as she squirmed beneath him.
She screamed when she came, closing her thighs around him, locking him to her as she rode out her orgasm. He didn’t stop until she sagged beneath him, her legs falling open limply and her breathing irregular.
Then his presence between her thighs was gone as he moved back.
Without pause, Spike grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her onto his cock. He impaled her in one swift thrust, sliding himself fully inside. She was so wet it didn’t matter. He leaned over her as he began to plunge in and out.
While the sex earlier that night had been spur-of-the-moment and somewhat swiftly accomplished, it had still been affectionate. But there were no caresses, no kisses, no murmurs now. Spike’s jaw was clenched and he was breathing heavily in time with his movements. He was forceful but not overly rough, and he pounded her into the mattress with fast hard strokes designed to get him off.
But Buffy couldn’t find it in herself to care. She enjoyed the feeling of him aggressively ramming in and out of her, even if she couldn’t get off on it. And Spike had more than gotten her off already; let him use her body like she had used his.
And even now, as he fucked her like this, his eyes never left hers.
He came quickly, gasping something that might have been her name. His head fell against her shoulder for a moment before he pulled back and looked at her, leaning his weight on his arms. Their lower halves were still connected, and though he wasn’t touching her above, they were so close. If she breathed deeply, her nipples would brush his chest.
Almost as if having the same thought, he shifted his weight and brought a hand up. He brushed it over her breast before settling it flat against her chest. “Your heart’s racing.” The hand moved up to her cheeks. “And all flushed and glowin’…” Spike trailed off. One corner of his mouth tugged up. “You look delicious.”
“Okay, that would be more of a compliment if you weren’t a vampire.”
“Oh, it’s a compliment.” He smirked. “Imagine, you lookin’ so tasty and me still not wantin’ to eat you up.”
His hand ran down her body again. “An’ so warm.”
Buffy suddenly realized that even after all they’d done, Spike was cool and dry against her.
She pulled him flat on top of her. “Help me cool off, then.” After a moment, she said, “It’s kind of strange, you know, you being cold everywhere.”
“Bad?”
“Just…different. I mean, maybe I warmed you up a little, but even now…” She glanced downward and squeezed him slightly. “…you’re—well, you’re not hot. They’re usually hot.”
Spike shifted at her movement, and she realized he was still semi-erect inside her.
“Is it weird to you that I’m hot?” she asked.
“It’s bloody fantastic.” He kissed the side of her face. “To hold you, be surrounded by you…”
She felt him harden fully.
“Ready to go again, pet?” he asked, leaning back up to look at her.
“How can you do that so fast?”
He grinned. “Never been with a vamp before?”
“Um, I’m gonna go with the obvious ‘no.’ Cold equipment but fast recovery time, huh?”
He smirked.
“You’ve had human girls before me,” she blurted.
An uncomfortable look flashed across his face, almost like he was trapped. “Yeah,” he said, brows slightly drawn.
“It’s okay. I mean, you’re like a hundred and something—which really should creep me out more than it does—so I’m sure you got around. Though hey, not minding the experience factor, because that was like the best sex I ever had, seriously, and no one has ever— It’s just, I mean, you’re probably just doing everything with me that you did with them.”
“No,” he said sharply. “I’m not doin’ everything to you that I did to them.” He said it almost angrily, though it didn’t seem to be directed at her.
Then the lines faded from his face, and he ran his hand through her hair. “You’re special, Buffy,” he choked. “An’ what we did was special. It was just you and me, no one else. There’s a difference between pleasurin’ and fu— You’re not just another. Not with you. Never with you, all right?”
Before she could reply he kissed her, as if the answer were on her lips. He began to move again, pulling himself out of her and slowly dipping back in. He reached around to hoist her leg over his waist, and Buffy looped her other one up as well. Spike’s rhythm was measured and steady, and his mouth captured hers again as he bent down.
Buffy clawed at his back as he pressed himself deeper, but after a moment more he pushed away to get better leverage. Spike’s hand found her clit as he continued to thrust from above her, and she felt herself building again.
When she came, it was fast and nowhere near the previous current that had gone through her body like a shockwave, but Spike was inside her this time and she had his whole length to close down on. She clamped her legs behind him, trapping as much of him as she could within her.
Her cry was mixed with Spike’s, which was something between a strangled shout and growl as her shuddering muscles choked his cock. He jerked, bringing his head to her shoulder as he continued to plunge into her.
He increased his pace and she arched against him, even as she felt herself coming down from it. Buffy shook a few more times before she wilted, one leg sliding off him to land on the bed, the other only managing to stay draped over him because of the angle.
Spike thrust for almost another minute before he finished, clawing at her bottom and pulling her to him. He whispered her name like mantra as he came.
And then he was still.
Buffy felt boneless beneath him.
Spike was softening inside her, but he didn’t pull out or make any attempt at movement. His body was collapsed on hers, splayed on top of her like a cool weight, his face still buried in her neck.
Neither of them shifted for a moment.
Then Spike moved his head, dragging his teeth across her throat.
And Buffy realized what she’d been too far gone to realize before. His teeth were jagged, his skin uneven. He’d been in vampire face ever since he’d cried out and brought his head down to her neck.
Spike’s mouth was open against her skin. She could feel the points of his fangs as he moved his head, just the barest bit of pressure. Was he going to bite her? Was she going to let him?
It wasn’t like she could stop him. Well, she could wiggle slightly or say something. But Buffy found herself trapped in the moment, emotionally frozen as she waited for his movement.
The tip of Spike’s tongue ran over her pulse point, tasting her skin. He inhaled sharply. His lips opened farther, covering more of her. She felt the weight of his teeth as they caressed her, felt the breath that he didn’t need.
Spike closed his mouth, carefully trapping her throat between his fangs and clamping down on her in a slow bite.
It was a gentle, almost tender movement. But she could feel the desire behind it—his need to taste her blood just as desperate as his need to be inside of her earlier.
Another second and he would have it. His teeth were sharp; her skin would break.
She wondered how much it would hurt.
Spike had his lips locked around her neck like it was a possession, his bite ready to break the barrier between him and what he wanted.
He didn’t move.
All of him was still, his mouth frozen over her. His tongue touched her skin again. A moment more and he exhaled and pulled away, his head rolling to the side to rest on her shoulder.
Buffy let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. But she heard herself saying, “You can if you really want to.”
“No.” Spike propped himself up on his forearms, staring down at her with blue eyes.
“But if you want it, I will. I know it’ll hurt at first. But I’ll give it to you.”
He shook his head. “It always hurts, Buffy.”
“You tasted me in the kitchen.”
“That was different, all right?” Spike brought a finger to her lips.
He paused and then tilted his head at her, looking at her with the look that she had first seen only hours ago.
“What?” she whispered.
He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his hand lingering, petting the side of her head. “So perfect…”
Buffy swallowed. “I’m not.”
He shook his head, disagreeing with her. “Everythin’ about you.”
She started to open her mouth again, but he tapped her lips with his finger.
Spike shifted his hips and slid out from inside her. She felt momentarily empty as she adjusted to the feeling of him not being there.
“You want the blanket, love?”
“I’m fine for now.”
Spike moved to lie on his side, turning her to face him. Buffy curled slightly, folding her hands between them as she watched him.
Spike was running his eyes over every inch of her, looking at her like he couldn’t believe she was real. His gaze fell on the sheets between them, and after a moment he reached out, taking one of her hands. He turned it over in his several times, seemingly mesmerized.
“Just like you,” he said softly.
Buffy frowned. “Yeah…it’s my hand.” She’d just gotten her nails done that week—French tips with hearts airbrushed on the index fingers.
He didn’t appear to hear her. “So small an’ fragile.”
“I’m really n—”
“You are, pet.”
Spike’s hand slid around hers again, and he watched with reverent fascination as her fingers responded to his movements.
His larger hand completely enveloped hers as he squeezed slightly. “Breakable.”
For an instant, she imagined the strength there.
Then his fingers slipped around hers, and Spike brought her hand up to press her palm against his lips. His eyes closed for a moment. “I won’t break you,” he breathed.
He said it like it was the greatest promise he could make. It was solemn and sincere, if perhaps oddly worded.
Buffy’s gaze slid from their hands to his eyes. “I know,” she whispered.
Spike kissed her palm again, exhaling into it almost in relief. The he rolled onto his back and pulled her to him. Buffy cuddled up to his chest, draping her arm halfway over him. His hand covered hers and he continued to lightly stroke her fingers.
Buffy sighed against him.
She knew Spike would never hurt her.
What she didn’t know was why his words had sent a shiver down her spine.
Author's Chapter Notes:
So, I’ve always ‘known’ what Spike and Buffy got up to the rest of that night, but the first time around, I did not feel ready to write a ‘real’ sex scene. Also, Sideways is only rated R, and I didn’t want to label it NC-17 for only a few sex scenes (now we’re at almost 50 chapters and still have only the one scene, so yeah, I thought an NC-17 rating would be like incorrect labeling). I didn’t intend at the time to go back and write an NC-17 one shot, but the idea has been floating around in my head for a while, so here it is. It turned out to be much longer, and er, much dirtier than I thought it would. :)
This fits between chapters 17 and 18. It’s the middle of the night after Buffy and Spike’s first time, and Spike has just finished telling her a little about his life…
This fits between chapters 17 and 18. It’s the middle of the night after Buffy and Spike’s first time, and Spike has just finished telling her a little about his life…