“What’s this I hear ‘bout you not getting’ out o’ bed kitten?” Spike was still scanning the clipboard he held as he entered the dimly lit hospital room.
Hearing no reply he finally peaked up over his glasses to find his patient, arms folded stubbornly, untouched food from the day piling up at her bedside.
“So it’s one of those days is it?” He rolled his eyes, exasperated. She was always so damn difficult. He preferred the days where she flirted, at least then they’d get some work done.
“What is that suppose to mean Dr. Pratt?” Buffy spit the words through clenched teeth.
“Means that you, once again, are dead set on actin’ like a spoiled brat!” He flicked on the light, making her wince from its harshness. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you wanted to stay here forever! Seein’ as how you are so keen on not leavin’ your bed an all. What is it this time Buffy? Nurses piss you off? They can be so difficult can’t they? Tendin’ to your every whim like that. I mean I can’t imagine-”
“Stop!” She nearly screamed, pent up frustration bursting forth. “No one did anything. I’m just… just done. You wouldn’t understand.” She turned away from him as if his gaze stung like the sun.
Spike’s expression softened a bit. Although the sixteen year old had been an unrelenting pain in his arse for countless weeks, not to mention the source of his, now too common, sleepless nights, she was his patient and had overcome a lot for someone so young.
“Buffy, pet.” He noticed her slight twitch at the endearment, but disregarded it. “I understand better than you think luv. Is kind o’ m’ job.” Watching carefully as her mouth pulled into the faintest of grins he took the opening, sitting gently on the edge of her bed. “You have come a long way kiddo, made tremendous improvements. A little more therapy, just a bit o’ effort and the few kinks will be all worked out. Promise.” He reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder only to have her jerk away suddenly.
“That’s exactly what is pissing me off!” Her heated glare and rough tone made him rise off the bed and away. “I’m not a baby you know! I didn’t suffer brain damage when I had the accident! I want everyone to stop patting me on the head and saying one more time champ you can do it! This isn’t the TV movie of the week Spike! It’s my life, and I want to be treated-”
“Like a bitch?” Buffy’s eyes expanded to full diameter from the shock of his biting words. “Cause that’s exactly how you’re actin’!”
“I-I-I” She sputtered, unable to speak.
“What? You can dish it out but can’t take it?” He was shaking with unchecked rage. “Get up!”
She made no move to obey, frozen in place, fear and confusion barring down upon her.
“I said get up!” Spike struck out, gathering her up by the shoulders roughly, tearing her from the shelter of her bed.
A helpless cry escaped from between her lips as she found herself dropped onto unsteady legs. “Wait!”
He didn’t let her go completely, still mindful of her condition despite his blinding anger. “No time like the present pet. Stand!”
Tears were cascading down her cheeks now, leaving moist streaks over her smooth skin. “I can’t!”
His eyes darkened, his face pulling into a tight mask of irritation. “I. Said. Stand.” His jaw ticked with each word.
Buffy drew in one last quaking breath, her features turning hard the next moment. She thrust her chin up defiantly, her challenging stare meeting his. “Make me.”
The remaining threads of composure he had gave way at that, his hands releasing their hold on her shoulders. The briefest moment of fear and uncertainty flashed in her eyes before he had her again, this time by the soft contours of her face, his lips fusing to hers.
His conscious wailed in his head, screaming at him for committing such an atrocity, damning him for such a vial act. His dick strained against his jeans, begging for attention, desperate to meet the source of his every sordid desire.
He was at war with himself, wavering between giving in fully to his filthy fantasies and reigning in his depraved urges once and for all.
And then she moaned, low and womanly, all passion and wants not even a hint of apprehension or regret.
The battle was won. He was destined for hell he was sure but that seemed an insignificant fact as her delicate fingers dove beneath his lab coat, seeking to trace the muscles of his chest.
“Ah. Jesus fuck kitten.” Spike braced his forehead against hers as he allowed their swollen mouths to part for needed air.
She leaned forward, craving his touch, his taste.
Another flash of doubt swept in, causing him to pull back just slightly out of her reach. Confusion briefly clouded his depths once more before clarity settled there. “Buffy.” His voice was breathy and hushed.
“Doctor?” She questioned, a naughty smirk playing at her lips.
He answered her coquettish grin fleetingly before continuing on. “You’re standin’ luv.”
She peered down at herself, head tilting to the side, evaluating the prognosis. “Guess I just needed proper motivation.”
“Oh is that how it is then?” His tongue rolled behind his teeth invitingly.
“That’s how it is. You’re an awfully good Doctor after all.” A teasing tone entered her voice as she swayed gently on barely stable legs.
“Careful kitten. No need to push it.” He couldn’t help the hand that came up again, curling around the back of her neck, steadying her.
“Oh I think there is.” Buffy stretched forward, gathering his lips into another forbidden kiss.
Unable to quell the guilt fully, he spoke between hungry endeavors. “Buffy, pet. This is wrong.” His admission lacked conviction; his eyes lulling back as her tongue dipped out to savor him.
“And yet, so right,” she whispered into his ear before lapping along his jaw line.
“No luv. Just wrong.” He managed to garner some authority in his tone, but made no attempt to pull away.
Buffy flinched back, her hands dropping from where they had fisted into his hair. “Seriously?”
He fidgeted uncomfortably, rattled by the ease in which she seemed to be taking everything.
“I’m not a child you know!” she huffed.
“Actually princess, in the great state of California you are.” He took a step back, eager to put some space between them.
“Oh really?” Her still reddened lips contorted into a flirtatious grin. “And that’s how you think of me then? Just some little girl?”
Spike’s cock twitched and his complexion darkened at her brazen words. “Y-yes.”
“Yeah? So you never, ever think about me?” Her fingers were ghosting down her torso, caressing the rise and fall of her own curves. “Never wonder what it’d be like, what it’d feel like?”
He nearly choked. “I-I’m old enough to be your father for Christ sake!”
“Yeah and daddy gets so mad when I’m a bad girl, doesn’t he?” Buffy had somehow swallowed the distance separating them, breathing the words straight into his ear.
His hands reflexively shot out, griping tightly over her petit biceps. “Buffy. Stop.”
“Why? Is daddy gonna give me a spanking?” She challenged.
“You have no idea what you’re playing at little girl.” Spike warned, his fingers digging further into the flesh of her arms.
“No idea huh?” She closed the gap until her lips were mere centimeters from his. “Then show me.”
“Buffy I.” He paused, slamming his eyes shut in an attempt to drown out her seduction. “I am not going to take advantage of you.”
“Perfect. We’re agreed then. It’s not taking advantage.” She began trailing soft kisses over his face.
His eyes remained closed. “Y-you’ve seen what I’m like when I get angry kitten. Believe me you do not want to push this.”
“Oh I didn’t mind what you were like, preferred it actually.” Buffy withdrew from him then, carefully backing up against her bed, lifting herself onto the edge.
He watched, fixated, as she deliberately unsnapped every clasp down along the track pants she had always worn during her stay. Wetting his lips purposefully he followed them to the ground as they fell away, leaving her lower half bare but for the lace panties that clung to her most delicious parts. “Buffy.”
She lay back, drawing her legs up until her feet were flat on the mattress; she allowed her knees to fall apart. “I’m ready for my massage therapy Doctor.” She fluttered her lashes innocently.
Spike growled hungrily as he stalked forward, hesitating just beside the bed. “You best be certain ‘bout this girl. Cause there is no goin’ back.” His fists clenched and unclenched at his side as he waited for that one last reassurance.
Buffy locked eyes with him, nodding in approval, tongue darting out, desperate for a taste. “Don’t want to go back.”
He was on her then, not another second wasted. Arms on either side of her flush face, knees between her parted legs. “Buffy.” He groaned out just before diving down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
“Spike!”
“It’s Dr. Pratt!” he growled.
“Uhn.” She moaned, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
Spike sat back on his heels, devouring all of her with his voracious stare, breathing harshly through his nose. “Legs up kitten.”
“Wha- I don’t think I-”
“I said put your fucking legs up.” He snarled, holding a hand out a couple feet above her head. “Now.”
She strained, desperate to do as she was asked. Summoning all the strength her weakened muscles possessed she raised her feet off the bed, extending her calves straight up into the air.
He caught them mid ascension, relieving her of the strenuous task. Taking both legs by the ankle he held them upright with one hand, the other trailing down along the silky flesh of her thighs until it met her sopping panties. Digging a finger below the fabric he dipped teasingly into her folds before tugging the garment over her ass and up her legs.
Once free of her he threw the scrap to the side, taking one ankle in each hand he spread her legs easily. “Now, now. That’s better,” he commented, purring.
“P-please.” She begged.
“Oh? Somethin’ you want kitten?” He rested a leg on his shoulder, hand reaching out to caress the smooth plane of her abdomen, bunching the fabric of her shirt up and out of the way.
“Y-yes, please. I-I need.”
“What luv? Tell the Doctor how to make it better?” he cooed.
“Mnah!” His words elicited a tiny grunt and a fresh flow of fluid amid her lips. “P-please doctor, I-I need to cum!” she pleaded, voice husky and low with pent up lust.
“Well, well.” He placed her other leg onto his opposite shoulder, directing them to curl around his neck as he descended towards her delectable pussy. He paused just above her sopping curls. “You did say please,” he hummed.
She bucked, his warm breath tickling her most sensitive parts. “Yes!”
Her cry shattered his resolve and he dove down, licking deep into her tastiest treat. “Mmm” he moaned over her, eliciting more tiny thrusts and grunts of approval.
“Baby tastes so bloody good,” he praised, “like fucking sweet tarts you do.”
“Oh god! Dr. Pratt!” she bellowed.
Spike’s hand shot out, covering her mouth in a flash. “Ah. Ah. Ah, kitten. Can’t have you screaming my name loud ‘nough for the entire hospital to hear. No matter how fucking sexy it is.”
She nodded her obedience and he slowly slid his hand away, going back to work on her sodden pussy. “Good girl,” he murmured before sucking her clit into his mouth.
He ate at her feverishly, nipping and sucking at every delicious part. Gliding his tongue from her ass to her clit in long lavish strokes. He was unrelenting, eating that tasty quim until he could feel her muscles tighten with built up tension. Sensing her release was close he slid two talented fingers into her core, fucking her franticly, mouth still lapping at her folds.
She bit down on her bottom lip; drawing a hint of blood as she came, body racked with spasms beneath him. “Uhhhn! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“Shh. Shh, now, pet.” He whispered, still licking at her.
As her body relaxed, her breath evening out, he crawled up her, hesitating when he reached her glistening face. “There she is.”
She smiled lazily, words escaping her.
Spike softly brushed the blond strands from her eyes. His lips parted and closed several times as he, himself, searched for the right words to say.
“Buffy I-”
“Paging Dr. Pratt! Dr. Pratt to floor two nurses station.”
They both jumped slightly at the PA’s shrill call.
Coming back down to earth Spike blushed as he rose from the bed. Wiping her from his face on the inside of his lab coat he sighed. “Got to go, luv.”
Buffy adjusted her shirt and smiled weakly as he handed her the clothing from the floor. “Yeah,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.
He reached out, claiming her chin in his hand gently, bringing her gaze up to meet his. “I’ll be back soon, kitten, promise.”
She smiled genuinely then. “I’ll be here. Can’t really go anywhere.” She joked.
He smirked down at her. “That won’t be true for long, pet. What with our new therapy regime I’d say you’ll be strong enough to do back flips before you know it.” He winked.
She giggled. “Can’t wait.”
He flinched, his pager going off suddenly. “Really got to go, luv.”
“Later.”
“Count on it.”
~
Chapter End Notes:
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