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Chapter Five:

Spike had been bawling his eyes out like some sort of wayward toddler when he remembered the packet of blow he'd stashed in the dresser. If there ever was a time to escape, it was now. He was friendless, loveless, and just—just completely alone. He took a cleansing breath and uncovered his face, intent on retrieving the coke from the dresser drawer—and what does he see before him but little Miss Buffy Summers of my dad's a corporate attorney fame staring at his cock like it was her last meal. There's nothing that will stop your tears faster than a gorgeous woman salivating over your goods...well, unless she's salivating on your goods. Spike felt himself twitch and begin to harden underneath her unwavering gaze. I guess you're still fully functional afterall, mate. As her eyes met his, he had to stifle a chuckle at the shock on her face from having been caught. Seeing her there—all silky and tan, barefoot in that little white sundress—Spike suddenly knew what would bring him more euphoria than any stash of white powder, so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Wanna play, luv?"

Her eyes widened, "Uh, what? I mean...no...no..."

Spike's lips spread into a wide grin. "Oh, I think you do."

"Well, you're wr-wrong," she stammered. "Why would you think that?"

He rolled over on his side giving her a better view of the area she had been so intent on examining only a moment ago. He chuckled at her little gasp. "Well, I would think that, luv...because you're still here."

"I...I..."

"You...you..." he mocked. "C'mere, kitten," he purred as he patted the bed beside him, "Not gonna hurt you, pet." He smirked, "I already know you're curious."

Buffy's brain was in overdrive, and her body wasn't functioning properly at all. She couldn't believe that she had yet to turn tail and run. Instead, as she stood paralyzed in the doorway gazing upon this strange man—this strange naked man—she felt her nipples harden and a rush of moisture between her thighs. She was truly disturbed that some small part of her was considering taking this man up on his offer. Though she wasn't entirely sure what playing consisted of, she had her suspicions. Clearly, this was some alternate universe where this was not the same junkie that had OD'ed at Lindsey's lake house. No, for her to be considering a playdate, this man must be a lawyer or a politician or crown prince of some little country no one's heard of.

"Don't make me throw you over my shoulder, Goldilocks—or maybe you're into that sort of thing."

Nope. Not an alternate universe.

"Oh my god. I have to go...now." Still in shock, Buffy forced herself to turn away from Spike's bare form.

"Now wait a minute, pet," Spike began, sitting up in the bed, "I know this sounds crazy, but just hear me out."

Buffy stared into the hallway, blinking. He was right about one thing. This was definitely crazy, so why couldn't she make herself leave without hearing what he had to say?

When Buffy made no further moves to leave, Spike assumed this meant he should say his piece. The problem was that he didn't know what to say. He was just trying to keep her from leaving the room.

"Well, luv, you see...do you have a boyfriend, pet?" Spike cringed at his juvenile question. "That was his car, right?"

Buffy swallowed, "Riley."

Spike furrowed his brow. "Riley. I remember him. Big, bulky bloke...whore on his knee." Spike's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Bollocks! You're that chit he was running around on."

"It's no big deal." She picked imaginary lint from her dress. "We just have a few issues."

"Issues! ISSUES! That pillock is fucking other birds, and you call that issues?" Spike clenched his jaw. "He has this—this incredibly gorgeous woman all to himself, and instead of cherishing her like he should, he gets his rocks off all around town!"

Buffy half-turned towards him and asked in a little voice, "You think he should cherish me?"

"Of course, I do," Spike said softly as he moved off the bed and padded across the floor to stand beside her. He lightly gripped her chin and turned her head to face him. "You deserve better." He tilted her face and lowered his lips to hers, gently coaxing a response from her. Buffy's eyes fluttered shut at his feather-light kisses. Spike gingerly pulled her to him, enjoying the feel of the rough fabric of her dress against his bare skin.

Buffy was lost—but the thick, hard length pressed against her stomach was like a bucket of ice water bringing her back to the reality of the situation. Pushing against his chest, "I can't, I can't. I'm no better than him!"

Spike held fast as she tried to distance herself from him. Clearly, he needed a change in tactics. "So, it's all right for him to have whoever he wants, but you can't do the same? You aren't allowed to feel good? You aren't allowed to feel...pleasure." He held her tightly to his body.

"We—we shouldn't be doing this. I don't know you. I'm not like you," Buffy mumbled into his chest.

"If you don't know me, luv, then how do you know you're not like me?" Spike held her away from his body and looked into her wide eyes. "We might have more in common than you think." Pulling her back to his chest, "Come to bed with me, kitten. I'll make you feel so good. Just give me tonight. I'll leave tomorrow, pet. I'll leave, and you'll never have to see me again. Just give me tonight." Spike knew that he had been reduced to begging, but he didn't rightly care at that moment with her soft body pressed against his. This bint was having the strangest effect on him. He almost wondered if the drugs would have been a safer bet.

When he felt that all the fight had left her, Spike released Buffy from his arms. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed. He was pleased when she followed with no resistance. He turned to her and lightly fingered the bottom of her dress, "Kitten, I'm gonna make you more comfortable. 'Kay?"

Buffy nodded blankly. As she raised her arms to help him pull her dress over her head, she knew that she had to be in some sort of trance.

Spike murmured his approval at her firm, round breasts with their puckered pink nipples. Leaning down, he took one rosy bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue. Buffy yelped in surprise before giving way to a breathy moan. Taking this as a sign to continue, Spike took her other mound in his hand and gently rolled the erect peak between his fingers. Buffy's moans and gasps grew louder as he continued his ministrations. Oh, yeah, I have her. Spike moved his lips from her breast and placed a trail of wide open-mouthed kisses over her collar bone and up her neck. Reaching her ear, he lightly tugged the lobe with his teeth before murmuring, "touch me, baby. Please, touch me." Not waiting for her to respond, he took her hand and firmly wrapped it around the base of his erection. He slid their joined hands up to the moistened head and down again. He repeated the action again and again. He released Buffy's hand and gripped her hip. She faltered for a moment then resumed the same steady rhythm. "That's it, baby....just like that...fuck...so good..." he panted helplessly.

Buffy watched her hand in fascination as she pumped his long, thick cock. This man was built nothing like Riley...in all the right ways. Buffy let out a little pleasured sigh as Spike did something particularly spectacular to one of her sensitive nipples. Maybe I'm possessed by a demon. Yeah, that must be it. Nothing else explains why I would allow myself to engage in such intimate acts with a man I feel nothing but animosity for. That's all I feel, right? "Ooooooh," she moaned as Spike bit down lightly on her pulse point. Involuntarily, her grip tightened and the pace of her strokes quickened. Spike lightly grasped her wrist, stilling her hand. She looked at him, confused.

"Just...if you keep going like that, pet, it's gonna be over before it's begun." She wrinkled her brow. "Want to be inside you when I come, luv." Her eyes widened and he wondered if he'd made a mistake. He studied her face as she took a few deep breaths, staring at the wall behind his back with a pensive expression. He really hoped that whatever she decided worked out in his favor. Finally, she met his eyes. Not breaking contact, she blindly reached to her side and opened the drawer of the bedside table. After a moment of rummaging, she raised a small square packet in front of his face. Well, there was his answer.

He smiled, "You're a little over-dressed, pet. He stepped towards her until only a few inches separated them. He ran his hands down her sides to her hips, hooking the sides of her panties with his thumbs and dragging them down until she was able to kick them off the rest of the way. He took the condom from her fingers and sat it on the bedside table. "Lay down, kitten." She did as he asked and laid on her back in the bed with her knees up and her head resting on a pillow. He gazed at her form, and all at once, he understood how he could have mistaken this creature for an angel.

He joined her on the bed, kneeling before her bent legs. He slid his hands down her thighs, intent on gently separating her legs, but she held fast. "Wh-what are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Well, luv, if we're gonna get anywhere, you're really gonna have to spread 'em eventually." She huffed, but allowed him to carefully pry her legs apart. He leaned back on his heels and admired her neatly trimmed curls glistening with proof of the effect he was having on her. Leaning forward, he gave her slit a long lick from bottom to top. She gasped and bucked into his mouth. He latched onto her clit and nibbled sending her into such a frenzy, he wondered if the git had ever done this for her. Flicking her nub with his tongue, he slid one long finger inside of her and began to pump it in and out. She was writhing and panting so hard, he feared she would hyperventilate. Nevertheless, he added a second finger. He could feel her walls squeezing him as they began to convulse. Soon, Buffy emitted a high pitched cry and a flood of moisture covered his hand.

Grabbing the packet from the table, Spike ripped it open and sheathed himself. Not waiting for her to come down from her orgasm, he plunged into her tight, wet heat. This elicited shuddering moans from the both of them. Spike had no illusions that this was going to be slow, gentle love-making. No, he was too far gone for that. She was too wet, too hot, too perfect. She was his drug. He wasted no time before thrusting wildly, sliding rapidly in and out of her slick opening—loving the feeling of her choking him.

"Fuck...so tight...so perfect...fu-fuck...yeah, yeah...squeeze me like that..." Spike babbled as his hips pistoned at a bruising pace.

For Buffy's part, she was making no effort to muffle her screams of pleasure at the delicious sensation of Spike filling her body with his own. She scraped her nails downs his back as she gasped her approval of his technique.

The room echoed with the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall and their sweat-slicked bodies slapping together.

Buffy could feel herself climbing. She could not fathom the sensation that was building within her. It was like nothing she had felt before. As Spike's thickness stretched her again and again farther than she ever imagined, she felt herself fly over the edge. She cried out her release as she dug her nails into Spike's skin deep enough to draw blood.

Spike felt Buffy's walls flutter around him. He sped up his thrusts to an impossible speed. His movements became jerky, as he too, found his release—spilling himself into the condom within her body. He rested on top of her for a moment, bracing himself on his forearms, so as not to crush her. He lowered his face to the pillow beside her head and listened to her pants synch with his own. Finally, after their breathing had slowed, he moved his hips back and slipped out of her warmth. He groaned at the loss. Rolling to the side, he pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash bin next to the bed.

He glanced over at Buffy. She was lying still with her eyes closed, but he could tell by her slightly uneven breathing that she hadn't drifted off to sleep. She looked so beautiful surrounded by a halo of damp, golden hair. An angel. His angel. He knew it wasn't part of the deal, but he couldn't help but shift towards her and wrap an arm around her mid-section. He gave her a gentle kiss on the temple before laying his head down on the pillow and closing his eyes. He didn't understand why, but he hoped this strange girl—this girl that had treated him with so much scorn—this...beautiful girl, would let him hold her for a little while.

Buffy opened her eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling. Oh god. What have I done?


Chapter End Notes:
I finished Blue, so this is currently the only fic I'm working on (Edit: My crazy self has just started another!). I'm sure anyone who has read the other fic has figured out by now that this one is quite a bit different. I'm still new at this and would appreciate your encouragement. So, let me know if this is a story you would be interested in reading! Those of you that have reviewed, let me know if you're still interested! Thank you so much!



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