"Spike, that's a ridiculous word!"
"Oi! I can't help it. That's what you are. You just look so beautiful in that gown, luv." He raked his eyes over her appraisingly. The pale pink satin of her long strapless gown was the perfect contrast to her golden skin.
Buffy rolled her eyes, but she was smiling happily, "So you told me back at the apartment and on the car ride here."
"If I'd known I'd get to see you looking like this, I would have taken you to all your high school dances."
She snorted, "Yeah, right. You would have told me to take my little minor ass and get lost."
He hesitated, "Well...I'm sure I would have had a bit more tact than that. Thank god you're voting age now. Eh, pet?"
"Thank god!" she replied mockingly.
"Be nice, kitten, or I'm taking back your corsage." He pretended to reach for the flowers pinned to her dress.
"No!" she backed away from him, cradling the corsage protectively with her hands. "This is the first time I've had one that's not absolutely hideous. I swear, high school boys have no taste."
He curled his tongue behind his teeth. "You just need a real man, pet."
She rolled her eyes. Grabbing his lapel, "Well, come on, real man, let's get in there. We have some dancing to do!" She ignored his groans as she dragged him through the doors of the upscale hotel that the dance was being held at.
"Ooooh," she breathed as they entered the ballroom. "It's beautiful."
The room was illuminated by two elaborate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and several strings of twinkling yellow lights adhered to the walls. The main lighting was turned off, giving the huge room a more intimate feel. Several round tables were scattered about the perimeter of the room close to a large buffet featuring several snacks and punch bowls. A popular local rock band was currently on the stage at the front of the room. It appeared that most of Buffy's classmates had already arrived.
"See! I told you we would be late, but noooo, you just couldn't let me get dressed!" Buffy huffed contemptuously.
Spike smirked, "Not my fault, pet. If you wanted me to keep my hands to myself, you shouldn't have gotten ready at my place."
She glared at him, "Like I could get ready at home. Mom thinks I'm at that anti-prom party at Willow's." She released a frustrated sigh. "I just wish we could tell her about us, Spike. I totally deprived her of the before prom ritual of embarrassing your daughter by taking a million and one pictures."
He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I really am sorry about that, pet, but I'm telling you—half those pictures would be of her hands around my throat."
Buffy's lips formed a little half smile at the thought of her mom going all commando on Spike's ass. "It's fine, Spike...for now. I'm just glad you're here with me."
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "No place I'd rather be, luv." He paused. "Well, naked in bed might narrowly beat this out, but as long as I'm with you I'm happy."
She gave him a little shove. "You wish we were always naked. You must be like the horniest guy ever."
"Once again, your fault. If you weren't so damn perfect, I wouldn't want you every second of every day."
"Spike..." she sighed, shaking her head.
"Besides, don't want you naked right this second, not here anyway."
She tilted her head to face him and raised an eyebrow, "And why is that, Mr. 'I'm So Horny, I Could Rip Your Clothes Off in the Supermarket'?"
"Well..." he began, giving her a peck on the nose, "I'd hate to have to beat up every bloke in here. All eyes have been on you since we walked into the room, sweetheart."
She blushed prettily and ducked her head, "They have not! If anything, they're just curious about the mystery man."
"Trust me, luv. The looks that poncy bloke over there has been shooting this way have nothing to do with me. In fact, if he doesn't get a hold of himself, I'm going to have to go over there and ask him to kindly avert his eyes. He's practically salivating over you," Spike grumbled.
Buffy furrowed her brow and glanced around the room. "Who are you talking about?"
Spike flicked his hand towards their right. "Over by the punch bowl. Blue bow-tie. Massive forehead."
"Huh?" Buffy glanced in the direction he indicated. Her eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! That's Angel!"
"Oh...Angel." Spike repeated flatly. "That's the git I could have lost you to? Looks like a bloody wanker to me."
Buffy lightly thwapped him on the chest with the back of her hand. "Be nice! I think he's coming over here."
"Great.." Spike mumbled.
"Hey, Buffy, you look absolutely amazing tonight!"
"Thanks, Angel. That's really sweet of you to say." Spike did not like how this git was making his girl blush. He gave Buffy's shoulders a soft squeeze. "Oh! Angel, this is Spike...my boyfriend." She smiled at Spike. "Spike, this is Angel."
Buffy watched the two men size each other up as they engaged in a firm...really firm handshake. She was pretty sure she saw Angel wince at one point. After Spike released his hand, Angel immediately turned his attention back to Buffy.
"I was hoping that I could steal you away for a dance. Darla sort of ran off the second we walked into the ballroom. I guess I should have seen that coming." He shrugged. "But hey, what can you do? So, what do you say? Dance?"
Buffy bit her lip. She could feel Spike's body tense up beside her as soon as Angel's invitation had left his mouth. She didn't want to upset Spike, but...well, she loved to dance! He had promised to dance most of the slow dances with her, but she couldn't get him to agree to any fast dances at all. Apparently, he doesn't do that. He said he wouldn't mind her joining some of her guy friends on the dance floor, but she could tell he started rethinking that when he met Angel. She listened to the driving beat of the rock song currently coming through the speakers. Screw it. This was her prom—her last high school dance—and by god, she was gonna shake her thang! She'd deal with Spike later.
"Ummm...sure, Angel, sounds great." She turned to Spike and tried to implore him with her eyes to be understanding. "That's okay. Right, honey?"
Spike wanted to say 'no, you're mine and that bleedin' poof better keep his hands off of you', but figured it would be best not to embarrass them both so instead he went with a tight smile and replied, "Sure, honey, that's fine."
Buffy disentangled herself from Spike's arms and allowed Angel to escort her out to the dance floor amidst the throngs of gyrating high school seniors. They turned to face one another and began waving and bobbing and shaking to the beat. Buffy gripped the fabric of her dress at her thighs and hiked it up to her knees to allow for a better range of motion.
Bloody hell. Is she flashing that ponce her legs? Spike gritted his teeth. I think Miss Summers and I need to have a little talk. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the ballroom.
Buffy's movements faltered when she noticed the platinum blond head retreating through the door at the back of the room. If his hair wasn't such a glaring beacon, she never would have spotted him—but she did. I'm sure he's just going to the restroom or something. He wouldn't leave me here....right?
"Buffy!" Angel shouted over the music. "You okay?!"
"Huh?!" She turned her attention back to the young man in front of her. "Oh...yeah! Sorry...just distracted!" She tentatively resumed moving to the beat. He'll be back in a minute.
And he was. Well, he was back two songs or approximately nine minutes later. Close enough.
Buffy could feel Spike's eyes on her even before she realized that he had returned to the room. She scanned the area and found him standing in the location he'd previously occupied. The intensity in his expression was almost alarming. She wasn't sure what it meant, but she felt compelled to return to his side as soon as possible. Not wanting to strain her vocal chords any more, she simply mimed to Angel that she was taking a break before weaving through the crowd towards her blue-eyed man.
Buffy came to a stop about a foot in front of Spike. She bit her lip nervously at his piercing gaze. "H-Hey, Sweetie," she mumbled almost shyly. What's wrong with me? It's just Spike. At his silence, she continued, "Sooo, where di—"
"Are you through dancing?"
Buffy opened and closed her mouth, startled by his sharp question. "Wha?"
"Are...you...through...dancing?" He enunciated each word carefully, eyes never breaking contact with her own.
"Oh...I guess...yeah..." She wrung her hands, waiting for him to continue. He wasn't mad at her, was he?
"Come on then." Before she could protest or even question his actions, Spike had firmly gripped her arm above the elbow and was leading her towards the doors at the back of the room. His jaw was clenched and his expression was purposeful as he led Buffy out of the ballroom and into the lobby of the hotel.
Buffy could feel her eyes welling up with moisture. "Sp-Spike? Are we leaving? We just got here..."
Spike glanced down at the girl by his side and his expression softened at the tears in her eyes. "No, sweetheart, not leaving. Didn't mean to scare you, luv." He steered her towards a large staircase and gestured for her to ascend. "Thought we'd go upstairs for a bit."
Buffy wrinkled her forehead. "Upstairs?"
He leaned in close to her ear and smiled, "Yeah, got us a room for the night, kitten."
Buffy's eyes widened in surprise. "A room! Here!" she squealed. "Oh my god! This place is sooo nice!"
He tugged on her arm. "Yeah, so let's check it out." He laughed as she began to dash up the stairs, heedless of her three inch heels. He hurried after her and found himself colliding with her back when she suddenly stopped at the top of the stairs.
"Whoa, pet!" he laughed as he grabbed her shoulders and steadied them both. "What's with the traffic jam, luv?"
She turned in his arms and grinned up at him. "Ummm," she giggled bashfully, "I don't know what room we're in."
He smirked, "That's right, little one, you don't...but I do!" And with that, they were off again, Spike gently tugging Buffy down the long corridor. He brought them to a stop in front of room 216 and inserted his key card in the slot on the door. He pushed the door open and nudged Buffy through. She stumbled excitedly into the room.
"This is amazing! That bed is huge! We have a balcony! Are those flowers real?! Mints on the pillows, Spike!"
"Breathe, pet, you're going to make yourself hyperventilate." Spike shook his head at the giddy young woman.
Suddenly, she launched herself at him. "Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed, peppering his face with kisses. She slid her arms behind his neck and firmly pressed her lips against his own. She expected him to throw her down and take her right there, instead he didn't even open his mouth to invite her tongue inside. She pulled back and looked at him questioningly. "Hey, what's up? You're acting funny."
He took a breath. "Well, luv..." he began as he reached behind his neck to remove her arms from his body, "I think we need to talk."
She regarded him incredulously, "You brought me up here to talk?"
"Well—"
"Oh my god! Are you breaking up with me?! You can't break up with me! It's prom!" Buffy blinked away panicked tears and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "I can't believe—"
"Calm down! I'm not breaking up with you, pet." She blinked up at him. "I just think we need to be clear on a few things is all."
"O-okay...like what?"
He tilted his head. "Ya know, I never got my dance."
"Wha?" Her head was spinning from the sudden change of topic.
"My dance, luv. Captain Forehead got his turn, now I want mine."
"Oh..." she giggled nervously, "well, we should've stayed downstairs then. There's no music up here."
A secretive little smile played on his lips. "Oh, I beg to differ, pet."
Buffy was puzzled, "What do you mean?"
Instead of answering her question, he steered her towards the glass doors that led out to the small balcony. She was about to express her confusion once more when he threw open the doors, and she immediately heard a faint beat playing from some unknown source.
She glanced up at him, but he simply raised his eyebrows. Curiously, she stepped out onto the balcony. When she gazed over the side of the railing, she realized that someone had opened the doors to the ballroom and many of her classmates had flowed out onto the large patio directly outside. As she watched the excited teens undulate to the music that was still easily heard from the ballroom, she felt Spike move in behind her.
His breath tickled her ear, "About that dance, pet..."
She felt her pulse quicken and had to concentrate to keep her voice steady. "I thought you only did slow dances."
"I do."
She turned towards him and tilted her head. "Well, that's a fast song, so..."
He shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He slid his hands around her body. They glided easily on the smooth satin. He moved them around her back and down to gently cup her bottom before pulling her body forward to press tightly against his own.
She gasped when she felt his rigid length through his tuxedo pants. He only pushed harder against her rear at her reaction, encouraging the intimate pressure.
Buffy could feel herself on the verge of another bout of asinine babbling, but she forced herself to tamp it down. Spike was slowly moving side to side, causing her to sway slightly. She supposed this is what he meant by dancing. She tried to relax into his hold despite the arousal brought on by his hard shaft pressed so firmly against her belly. Laying her head against his shoulder, she allowed her eyes to drift closed.
For a few minutes, the pair simply rocked side to side, listening quietly to students laughing and rock music from the first floor. Buffy barely noticed when Spike stopped moving.
"Luv," he whispered into her hair.
"Mmmm." She nuzzled her face into his shoulder.
"Luv," he repeated, "come on, look at me."
She lazily tilted her head back to face him. "Mmm...wha?"
He gently slid his hands around to her hips, then raised them to lift her hands from his chest. He placed light kisses on her knuckles before lowering her hands to her sides.
"Luv," he murmured again before lowering his head to bestow a long, wet kiss on the side of her neck. She felt goosebumps break out all over her body. He kept his face buried in her neck as he allowed his hands to wander once more. He lightly drew the tips of his fingers up her sides. Buffy pulled back when she felt his warm hands slide onto the swell of her breasts.
"Spike," she started breathlessly, "we should go inside."
Instead of turning towards the open balcony doors, Spike moved his hands to her back and pressed her tightly to his chest.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, heart pounding rapidly.
He brought his lips down to meet hers, carefully coaxing her mouth open and slipping his tongue inside. She tasted delicious—a combination of her strawberry lip gloss and the tiny bit of wine he'd let her have before they left his apartment. While she was distracted, he maneuvered them, so she was pressed snugly between his body and the railing.
She broke away panting, "Sp-Spike, someone will see."
He pressed against her, grinding shamelessly, heedless of the people on the patio below.
"Spike, we—"
He swallowed her words with another deep kiss. Despite her apprehension about their location, she felt compelled to respond. Still, this was becoming quite heated and didn't show any signs of slowing down—it really was time to go inside. Once more, she tried to pull away from his embrace.
"Mmmm..." he purred, firmly holding her in place, "I don't think so, kitten."
She spoke in a hushed voice, "Spike...they'll see us."
"Don't rightly care," he mumbled before lowering his head to lightly nip her shoulder with his teeth, eliciting a small surprised gasp. He smiled into her skin. "Want them to know you're mine." With that, he resumed his assault on her shoulder and neck—kissing and sucking and biting—she felt helpless to do anything other than enjoy the sensations.
As he nibbled on her pulse point, she arched her back and moaned, "Spike..."
He chuckled before leaning back to gaze at her contented countenance. "Want more, luv?"
"Mmmhmm," she murmured, drunk off his attention.
"As you wish."
She was confused when the warmth of his body suddenly disappeared, and even more so when he securely gripped her arm and flipped her around to face the railing. "Spike, wh—"
"Put your hands here. Don't move them." His tone was authoritative as he moved her hands to grasp the railing, and she thought it best not to question him. After he was satisfied that she was going to stay in place, he moved his hands to her hips, pulling them back until she was forced to lean on the rail. She glanced over her shoulder and met his darkened eyes.
She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. "Don't look at me, pet. Look at them." He gestured with his head towards the crowd below. With a shaky nod, she followed his directions. As she leaned her head forwards, she felt his lips lightly touch the back of her neck. "Good girl."
The crowd on the patio had gotten larger and the sounds of their laughter almost drowned out the music completely. Buffy's cheeks burned as she realized how close they really were to the throngs of excited students. She longed to turn her head to see what Spike was up to, but somehow managed to restrain herself.
Just as she was about to give in, she felt hands grip the fabric of her dress near her knees. The material smoothly caressed her skin as it was lifted higher and higher until she felt it flipped onto her back—a cool breeze tickled her legs and buttocks. Her bottom was bare save for her tiny pink thong. She was shocked when she felt him tug at the ties holding up her panties. Soon the small scrap of material was gone.
Struck by a sudden wave of anxiety, she lifted her hands from the rail. Like magic, they were instantly pressed down by larger pale hands. She was fast coming to the realization that there was no escape. Ultimately, she knew that Spike would never make her do anything she didn't want to, but she still couldn't help but feel a little frightened. This was so different than anything she'd experienced with him in the last week.
Since claiming her virginity, he had been nothing but careful and patient with her. Slowly but surely, he was teaching her about the wonders of love-making. She still wasn't comfortable enough to take the reigns when they were in bed, but he was confidant that she would get to that point. After all, it had only been a week.
She sighed as his strong hands moved to her bare hips, then to her bottom, gently stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. One hand slid down between her thighs to lightly nudge her legs apart. She teetered a bit on her heels before allowing her legs to separate.
Without a moment's hesitation, the hand between her thighs ascended to lightly caress her folds. She swallowed, holding back a moan. Fondling her damp curls, Spike leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Very good girl."
This time there was no holding back. As he rubbed her hard nub, she let out a low moan. He noticed her hands twitch on the railing and gave her bottom a squeeze to remind her to stay put. She was almost unable to comply as he moved his hand from her clit and slid his index finger into her slick opening.
"Oooooh..." she breathed. She panted as he began moving his finger in and out at a leisurely pace. "Please, Spike..."
He smiled cockily, "Please what, kitten?"
"More..." she moaned as he increased his tempo. She expected him to add another finger, so she was shocked when he instead withdrew the digit that was currently pleasuring her. "Spike..." She heard rustling behind her and had a question on her lips when she suddenly felt something much larger than a finger prodding her entrance.
Her eyes opened wide when she realized what was about to happen. Immediately, she moved her hands from the rail and started to turn. Once again, she was abruptly stopped and her hands once more forced down on the railing. As he held her there, she could feel his thick shaft between her legs, creating almost unbearable friction on her clit.
"Relax, luv...just...relax." He rubbed her hands then continued to massage up her arms. "No need to be tense. Spike's got you." He bit his lip as he moved his cock against her warm, wet sex. She was burning him, and it felt amazing. He had to be inside of her.
As her moans increased with the movements of his hips, he came closer and closer to sliding into her body. He tilted his hips back and pressed forward, slipping his head inside of her. He heard her sudden intake of air, but she made no objections, so he pressed on, smoothly gliding forward until he was fully seated in her warmth.
Buffy was gripping the railing so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her mind was reeling from the heady sensation of being stretched so fully while still dressed in her satin prom gown. "Spike..."
"Mmmm...look at them, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling the back of her neck, "How does it feel?"
She shook her head, "How does..."
"How does it feel knowing you're up here...with me...doing this out in the open...where any of your little classmates could see? How does it feel?"
"It feels..." she trailed off as he rocked his hips, shallowly thrusting in and out of her sodden core. "Good," she finished.
"Yeah, it does..." He pulled out until only his head remained inside of her before roughly pushing back in.
"Oh!" Buffy cried out in surprise, but she was soon moaning deeply as his long, rough strokes increased. "God..." Her arms were burning from the strain of holding herself upright, but she couldn't bring herself to care at that moment.
Spike held her hips in a bruising grip as he pistoned in and out of her tight, wet body. "Fuck...Buffy..." It was easy to forget the point he'd wanted to make to her when he bought the hotel room, but he was a determined man, and he'd brought her up here for a reason. He slowed his pace, and even though it pained him too, he couldn't help but chuckle at her frustrated groan.
Somehow, he managed to lean forward and place his lips against the shell of her ear, "Look..." She knew he meant for her to watch the crowd. "How many of those awkward prats have you dated, pet?"
She was flustered, not expecting that question, "I..I don't...a few..."
"Mmm..." he kissed her ear, "bet you had schoolgirl crushes on more than a few."
She blushed. This wasn't a conversation she ever thought she'd have with him buried deep inside of her. "I...yes..."
He moved his lips to her neck, still lightly pumping his hips. "But no more, pet?"
"I...no...no more..." She moaned as he flicked his tongue out to taste her flushed skin.
"Say it," he commanded, digging his fingers into her hips.
"Say?" It was all just too much. She couldn't focus.
"Say it," he repeated. He punctuated his next words with long hard thrusts. "Say...you're...mine."
"Oh god, Spike..." Buffy gasped. "Please..."
His strokes were once again painfully slow. "Say it, luv. Say it, and I'll give you what you need."
She blinked out at the multitude of students. "I...I'm yours."
"What's that, luv?" He slid a hand around her body to give her nub a sharp flick.
"Oh! I'm yours!" she screamed.
"You bloody well are." With the magic words said, he no longer had a reason to hold back. He began thrusting in earnest, ramming his body into hers at a dizzying speed. "You're...fucking...perfect," he panted in time with his movements.
Buffy could feel pressure building inside of her unlike anything she'd experienced before. She had no idea sex could be like this, though she knew that it wouldn't be this way with anyone else. She would never have behaved this way with Angel. She trusted Spike...and she loved him. She was in love with him. That thought only increased the volume of her moans. "Spike...I..." Should she tell him? "I..." Oh god, what if he doesn't want some eighteen year old kid in love with him. It was so hard to think with him hitting her in just the right spot, but as the pleasure built, she found it harder to hold her emotions back. "Spike, I—"
"Buffy, I love you!" Spike shouted as he felt her inner walls begin to flutter around him.
His declaration pushed Buffy over the edge. She cried out her climax, babbling nonsense as she peaked. Her core tightly clamping his cock was too much for Spike, and with a deep groan, he emptied himself into her snug passage.
Remaining within her, he leaned forward and removed her hands from the rail, pulling her body back to rest against his own. She tilted her head to nuzzle his damp neck. Leaning her head back to meet his eyes, she whispered, "I love you too, ya know."
He smiled and gently kissed her lips, securely wrapping her in his arms.
"So..." she grinned up at him, "that was...the talk you wanted to have?"
He pondered her question for a moment then nodded. "Pretty much."