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Author's Chapter Notes:
It completely confuses me why one fic has more admirers than others. If anyone knows the answer to this mystery, let me know? Maybe then I can understand the complete lack of interest in Disillusioned.
Chapter Eleven

She was so going to kick vampire ass. All the way to the top of her stairs. She hadn’t been planning on offering her empty motherless home to her friends for an impromptu get together. Even if it was to save her friends from Angelus. She’d had her eyes on some Spike booty, and damn if this meant she’d have to be all evasive and Alone Girl. It was enough to make her pout. Well, she had the day, right? She could shoo them all home and just tell them to be back before dark and she could get her thing on with Spike for the time they were away.

Perfect. She loved a good plan.

“Okay then. Let’s get rolling. Everyone go and pack what they’ll need tonight and meet back here before it gets dark. Any questions? Good. We’ll see you then.”

“Ooh, sleepover,” squealed Willow as she was herded out the door, unaware that Giles and Xander were shooting glares of venom at Spike as he continued to lounge in the chair, completely relaxed with hands crossed behind his head.

Buffy nearly pushed them the final step through the door, almost slamming it in her haste to be alone with Spike. She collapsed against the hard wood, almost panting her relief that they were gone with less fight than she’d expected. When she lifted her eyes, Spike was stretching suggestively, one hand wandering over his thinly covered abs as the other stayed behind his neck.

“Luv, think I need a bit of a wash. Can you help me up the stairs?”

Wet Spike.

Buffy made a conscious effort to not run to his side, quickly helping him to his unsteady feet and almost giggled when he took a tentative first step.

“Don’t overdo it,” she warned and Spike felt himself warm inside.

“Feels a lot stronger. Think another sip of your sweet blood and I might feel a lot more like my nimble self.” He grinned cheekily at his woman, feeling his crotch ache as he thought about her naked and slippery.

“Spike! Stop it.” Her voice seemed all croaky and heated as her eyes swept over his zipper. She settled the hand hanging over her shoulder much closer to her breast than it had been before, and felt the air rush from her lungs. He gave her a little squeeze, but when Buffy turned to reprimand him, his eyes were focused hard on the stairs. His mouth was hardened in determination to put one foot in front of the other to get to the first step.

Buffy grinned secretly and jiggled a little so more of her aching breast could press into his lax palm. And then she steadily aimed them for the stairs.

The ascent took ten minutes, and by the time Spike’s foot took purchase against the landing, they both could feel the thrumming power that was slowly building in his lower limbs.

Still, they opted to fill the bath rather than leave him standing under the water spray. Buffy watched the rush of water from the faucet and felt a flicker of desire while imagining the disrobing of her vampire and his slow immersion into the depths of her bath.

When the water reached a reasonable level, Buffy flicked off the taps and turned to find Spike, naked, hard and proud staring at her with nothing less than heated lust.

“Way I see it, pet, you have two options.” He tilted his head and took courage from the blush that stained her cheeks and the heartbeat that raced as her eyes fell and stayed on his protruding cock. He felt it necessary to of course curl his palm around his shape, feeling a surge of pride at her gasp and slow movement closer to him. “One, you could go and let me have a wash in private, not knowing what vile, evil things I could get into. Or, you could help me reach the ‘out of the way’ places and keep an eye on all my bits so I don’t get out of control.” He looked at her with a mixture of hopeful longing and intense desire. Far too many hours had gone by since he’d been inside her, been able to taste her.

“I can’t possibly—“ She trailed off uncertainly as Spike’s bare shoulders dropped and his gaze hit the floor. “Stay clothed when my man is all with the naked.”

Before her last word settled in the air, she was clutched firmly in Spike’s embrace, his lips brushing softly over his marks even as his hands delved under layers of cloth and found smooth skin.

“We have three hours before they come back. Think we can make it?” Buffy whispered against the silky lobe of his ear, her teeth gently nibbling as her own hands found bareness.

“It’s bloody miserable, is what it is. We’ll just have to make do.”

His nose nudged her chin and Buffy shivered, her need increasing every second that the steam rose from the tub and enclosed them within a warm heady mist. And then she felt his hands on her flesh, stripping all her clothing away until she could feel the hardness of him against her as his lips claimed hers in wild need. He lifted a knee and Buffy felt the inside of her thigh brush against the hairy surface of Spike; felt the hard thickness of him as he settled just a whisper away from her aching pussy lips.

While he sucked away her breath, Buffy began a slow sway back and forth, wanting to cry every time he brushed against her. He propelled her hips closer and groaned as malleable flesh spread around the length of his cock, hot liquid spilling around him as he thrust back and forth.

Spike dived on her throat, fangs bursting from his gums as he sunk them into the flesh of her neck, his cock redirecting and finding her dark, wet channel. He settled as he sucked in mouthfuls of her blood, the power flooding through him as Buffy moaned and writhed around on his cock like a desperate fish for water. He withdrew his fangs, sealed the mark, and with one hard thrust knocked them so off balance Buffy tumbled backwards and they ended head over arse in the tub full of water.

Spike let loose a roar of laughter, watching Buffy splutter and frantically try to get the stringy clumps of her honeyed hair out of her eyes before she pounced, pushing Spike back as she remounted his cock and started a rhythm that rocked their watery world.

“You think drowning me is funny, huh?” And with some kind of wily slide, Spike found his back on the base of the tub, his mouth filling with water as he struggled to stop laughing, and Buffy bouncing on his prick like the woman meant business.

Spike sat up choking and spitting water in amidst a grip of humour that had been absent from his existence for years. She was a right firecracker, this one, and he was going to enjoy exploding along with her on a regular basis. He pulled her closer, lifting her slightly so his mouth could catch a swollen nipple and suck it hard into his mouth. And then he tipped her backwards, relishing the swish of water as it smacked the inside of the other end of the tub.

Buffy’s neck was arched, her hair being lulled under water as she felt the slow caress of her receptive walls with Spike’s cock. She could feel him so deep, barely touching that spot inside that sent her high off an invisible top. Eager nipples sought his touch, and then the squeeze that made Buffy hold her breath, made her pant as she began to pulse and shudder around him. This peak wasn’t hard, wasn’t fast, but slipped sweetly over her like a favoured dessert.

When she came back down, it was with a smile that told of her affection and satisfaction with her current choices. Buffy curled her arms around Spike’s neck and hugged him tight; hugged him happy. So he got her underlying message, she pressed the softest kiss against his lips, hoping to convey all that she was feeling.

“You know, you kinda make everything about this sex thing hot.”

A scarred brow lifted in amazement. “It’s meant to be pleasurable, pet. Wasn’t your big go with the Poof all you’d imagined?”

Spike couldn’t work out if her embarrassment made him confident or insecure. He waited almost in pain for what kind of stamp she’d put on that experience of her life.

“It wasn’t exactly Harlequin,” she revealed with a blush and then was kissing him again with that innocence and wholesomeness that meshed beautifully with her lusty siren-like persona.

Yeah, he was completely caught. And he only had two and three quarter hours to make his own brand as deep as it could be before her friends came back armed with arguments about why being with him was wrong.

He just hoped she saw their claim to each other as much more than an argument—and much more of a destiny.





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