Luckily, Spike guided her to his room. Stepping foot inside of hers would have possibly clued her into the reality of what she was doing, and Buffy really wasn’t inviting reality into her brain right now. She didn’t want to think of Liam, or their life together in that room, and what she was threatening to lose with her actions.
Because she didn’t care. She didn’t, she couldn’t, not when every single thing that Spike did was driving her crazy. When he was awkward and sweet, or when he was dominating and sensual, all of it. She was melting from the inside and couldn’t wait to explore every inch of him.
He hovered uncomfortably in the doorway, still clutching her hand tightly, waiting for her to take charge. Which she didn’t mind doing. At all. In fact, as much as she’d like to deny it, it was just turning her on more.
It was wrong. She knew that.
But it didn’t matter any more.
Buffy tugged his hand gently and guided him towards the bed, unmade and covered with dirty laundry. Spike let go of her to push the pile off with a bashful smile, and sat awkwardly on the edge of the mattress, hands fiddling with his undone belt.
She knelt down in front of him and his eyes grew as wide as saucers, his hands flying out to support him. The poor boy needed relief, now, if the way his pants were bulging was any indication, and Buffy had no problem helping him with that. In fact, she’d probably enjoy it just as much as he would. She didn’t know why he’d stopped her downstairs, but he certainly didn’t seem to be thinking of doing that now as he stared at her with eyes full of wonder.
She sat up on her knees and kissed him softly, trailing her hands from his neck down his front, unbuttoning his shirt as she tickled the skin of his chest. She pushed the shirt off of his shoulders and dragged her fingers down the center of his body, pausing half-way to tease small circles around his nipples. Her hands trailed down further to his waist, and she pulled her lips away to ask, just once, even though she knew the answer, “Are you sure, Spike?”
“Oh, God…” He groaned. “Yes…p-please, Buffy. Please.”
Well, then. No more second, third, or fourth thoughts.
He was panting as she finished unbuttoning his jeans, gasping as he lifted his hips when she tugged them to his knees, and finally, breathless as she pulled his boxers down. His cock was thick and swollen, dark and long against the pale skin of his stomach, everything she’d imagined it would be. Buffy licked her lips, captivated by it, anxious to have it inside of her.
She glanced up to see Spike still staring at her, looking almost pained as she danced her fingers up his bare thigh, tickling the soft hairs there. “Please, Buffy?” he repeated hopefully, and she couldn’t wait any longer.
Eyes still trained on his, she put the final nail in her coffin as she lowered her head and engulfed the tip of his cock between her lips. His eyes squeezed shut, and a grateful moan tore from his throat as his entire body jerked.
Impatiently, Buffy descended and took as much of him in her mouth as she could, wrapping her hands around the rest. It stretched her jaw to swallow even half of him, and she moaned in contentment at the feel of him sliding across her tongue. She moved up and down slowly, savoring every inch of him, swirling her tongue when he was almost free of her lips, sucking hard when she had him down her throat.
His flesh was soft, yet hard…just like him. His taste was salty, but so sweet to her. And the sounds he was making…God, they sent waves of desire coursing through her veins.
Delicious.
Spike couldn’t seem to formulate words, but was trying hard, body shaking like a leaf and fingers firmly clenching the edge of the bedspread. “B-Bu—God, yeah….ple—shit, gonna…yes…yeah…wait, wait oh, fuck—”
He erupted quickly, with a shout, cock jerking forwards and filling her mouth. Buffy almost gagged in surprise but recovered quickly, with practiced ease and total willingness, swallowed everything down as he cried out hoarsely.
She glanced up and watched him, face twisted with pleasure, full lips parted and pale skin tinged pink. The sight of him completely self-absorbed, eyes closed to the rest of the world and focused only on his satisfaction made her impossibly wetter, and she wiggled her hips in search of friction as she sucked him dry.
Buffy slid her lips off of his softening member slowly, still intent on watching him as he came down, breathing heavily. She rested her hands lightly on his knees, and his body stiffened.
“I—bloody hell, I’m sorry,” Spike stammered, eyes flying open wide. “I couldn’t stop, I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay,” Buffy interrupted quickly, heart seizing with affection, standing and cupping his face between her hands. “Nothing to be sorry for.” She forced him to look up at her, and his face was beet red from exertion, his eyes dilated and dark with lust.
“But I—I should have warned you, I—”
“You did warn me…sort of. I didn’t want to stop,” she insisted. Spike frowned in confusion, and she traced his sharp cheekbones with her pointer fingers as she dropped her voice low. “I wanted to taste you.”
Oh, God, he looked so completely amazed, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wanted him to always look at her like that, like she was offering him what he wanted most.
He reached up and twisted his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck, staring intently at her lips, his own opening and closing as if forming silent words. Then quickly he pulled her face down towards his and kissed her fiercely, tongue exploring every inch of her mouth and tasting himself there.
With a whimper, Buffy straddled his lap, hands roaming over his thin, lightly muscled torso as he crushed his lips to hers. He kissed her with such desperation, such raw passion that she could barely handle it, could barely handle the way something so simple made her throb with want. She’d never had a kiss so filled with emotion, and the way Spike was making himself completely vulnerable to her drove her passion higher.
Buffy reached up and grabbed one of his hands, guiding it between her legs as she pulled her mouth away and whispered, “Want to touch me?”
Spike nodded once, a muscle in his jaw ticking, and stroked at her damp thong with hesitant fingers. The light touch sent an electric shock throughout her body and she mewled her approval, digging her fingers harder into his shoulders. He pulled his hand away only to yank her dress over her head, and then she was almost naked in his lap, but for her black lace bra and satin thong.
He slid two fingers under her underwear as he fastened his lips to her chest, worshipping her cleavage with soft kisses and licks, nibbling at the edge of her bra. Those fingers slipped between her wet lips and Spike mumbled something Buffy couldn’t understand against her flesh, his other hand fumbling with the clasp of her bra. She shivered and arched against him, and after a long moment he finally growled his frustration and took his hand from between her legs and violently tore the offending fabric away from her body.
Buffy squeaked in surprise, then held her breath as the both of them froze. She didn’t feel awkward like she thought she might, and she didn’t feel any flicker of regret. Not yet. All she felt was burning need, to give and take and share this strange, wonderful, but still wrong moment with him.
She watched him watch her, drank in the way his eyes darkened at the sight of her bare breasts, the way he licked his lips. He reached out one hand to touch her delicately, trailing one finger from the side of her breast to her nipple. She wanted more, needed it, but just when she was about to break and push him down, she found herself grabbed tightly and flipped over onto her back.
Spike hovered above her, nostrils flaring, renewed erection pressing hard into her thigh.
“Now I want to taste you.”
~*~*~*~
Her skin tasted better than any candy, as smooth as silk against his shaking lips. Spike trailed kisses down her throat, exploring with his tongue and his teeth as his fingers played with her nipples. They hardened beneath his touch, gorgeous little red berries, ripe for the eating. He lowered his head and licked one tentatively, cock twitching as Buffy moaned.
He was actually making her moan! And it wasn’t fake moaning. He could tell the difference, having watched enough porn that he considered himself to be somewhat of an expert. No, he could tell it was real, and she was arching up into his mouth until it was full of her flesh, warm and so, so soft. He reached up and squeezed the neglected breast as he bit down on her nipple tentatively, then harder when she made a very, very encouraging sound.
That sound drove him forward, gave him confidence, and Spike kissed a path down her flat stomach towards his ultimate goal. The goal that scared the shit out of him, sure, but more than anything he wanted to make Buffy feel as amazing, as special as she’d made him feel. More than he wanted to have sex with her, more than he wanted to come again, he wanted her to know just how much she meant to him. It was a poncy thought for sure, but Spike didn’t care. Any man who had Buffy in his arms would feel the same way.
He laid his hands on her knees and pulled them apart, breath catching as she willingly spread her legs wide for him and stretched her arms over her head, tan body shimmering in the moonlight that came through his bedroom window.
Maybe he was wrong, but Spike was pretty sure that body language meant he could do anything to her he wanted, and that she’d let him.
And he knew exactly what he wanted.
Mentally commanding his hands not to shake, Spike slid her panties off of her slowly, driven nearly to the point of spontaneous orgasm just by the sight of her shaved, wet, pink pussy, all laid out for him. For him.
Honestly, not coming right then and there was a notable achievement.
He lowered his head between her legs and inhaled deeply, instantly drunk on the scent of her. With one hand he stroked her folds, sliding in the moisture, making sure to avoid her clit. While health class was, for the most part, a bloody waste of time, he’d at least learned the basic ideas of sex, and he knew he could drive Buffy crazy by not giving her exactly what she needed. Not yet.
Spike stuck out his tongue and licked lightly at the entrance to her sex, testing the taste. Not only was it better than he expected, it was delicious, rich and heady and what he wanted more than anything was to just shove his tongue inside of her. And so he did, and then she gasped, loudly, and he hurriedly moved his hand and rubbed a light circle on what he was pretty sure was her clitoris.
Buffy cried out louder and arched up, bringing her hips closer to his face. Which he certainly didn’t mind. Going on instinct, Spike wriggled his tongue around in her soft, soaked heat, capturing as much of her flavor as he could, while his thumb brushed back lightly against her bundle of nerves.
Her hands flew down and clutched his head, fingers pulling his hair as she moaned, “Oh, Spike…”
She moaned his name.
Breathing was becoming an issue but there was no way Spike wanted to stop, ever, if he could help it. He slid his tongue out of her channel and replaced it with a finger, sliding it in and dreaming of his cock doing the same as he flicked her clit with his tongue.
It was so damn tight, pillowy soft, her walls caressing every inch of his finger. How would he even fit? And if he did, and he hoped he would, it was going to feel...he didn’t even think he had the words.
Spike added a second finger experimentally, which Buffy seemed to like since she somehow got even wetter, and he lapped up as much of her delectable essence as he could before returning his tongue to her clit. It was hard and swollen, adorable and tiny and he kind of wanted to bite it, but he just pointed his tongue and danced tiny circles on top of it.
“Oh, God…more, Spike…fuck that’s good…where did you—Oh, God! Spike…”
This soundtrack was one he wished he could record and put on his iPod to listen to at all hours of the day. Every time he doubted himself, and he had no doubt that he’d start to believe he dreamed the whole thing, he could listen to it and know this had all really happened.
As Spike began to pump his fingers faster and faster in and out of Buffy’s channel, he pressed his hips down onto the mattress, painfully swollen and desperate for friction. It was becoming nearly impossible not to touch himself, but his unoccupied hand was busy clutching the comforter tightly, needing that bit of stability when it felt as if he was flying.
The muscles around his finger began to tighten and Buffy’s cries grew more breathless as her hands pulled harder on his hair, and whatever he was doing seemed to be working so Spike just kept doing it, but more, and then there was a rush of fluid and a piercing cry. He moaned at the feel of her walls fluttering around him, pressed his tongue harder to her clit and wriggling it around, feeling her juices soaking his chin and his hand as she shuddered for a moment longer then suddenly fell limp, her hands resting lightly on his head.
He’d made her come. He’d done it, and he smiled proudly against her flesh as he gathered up the last of her spendings with his eager tongue, but then froze.
Was he supposed to stop? Or keep going? Women could come more than once in a row, Spike knew that, but he was seriously hard to the point of pain and maybe, just maybe, he could make her come around him. He could keep going until she told him to stop, but then he might embarrass himself and shoot all over his sheets, and he really, really wanted inside of her.
He pulled his face away and crawled up her body, licking his lips as he slid his fingers out of her. She was flushed and panting, staring vacantly at the ceiling, green eyes impossibly bright and shining.
“Buffy?” Spike asked softly when he had hovered over her for a moment and she’d yet to acknowledge him.
Her eyes refocused on his face, and she reached up with one small hand to caress his cheek, and smiled.
“Buffy, I—”
She silenced him with one finger pressed to his lips, then slid that hand down his neck, his chest, his stomach, until it was stroking the curls around his erection.
“I—I need…” He breathed out. She nodded, grasping him tightly, and guided him between her legs.
Then the phone rang.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks again to everyone who took the time to let me know what they think of this story! I'm having computer issues so I can't say how long until the next part. Hopefully not too long. Enjoy! (Beta-ed oh so wonderfully by dampersandspoons.)
Chapter End Notes:
It's almost pathological, how much I love cliffhangers...hehe.