Authors Note: Character thoughts will appear in between **
Learning Curve
By Soul of the Rose
No more games. No more waiting. He’d had enough of being pushed around, treated like a toy to be tossed in the dustbin. For fuck’s sake, hadn’t he proven himself to the girl?
*Enough!*
He stepped to her with new resolve, crushing her mouth brutally. He forced his tongue between her protesting glossy lips and then released her with a swift shove. She stumbled back gasping.
“ Spike...what…?” before she could say more, he was on her again. Roughly reaching into the neckline of her little black cotton dress, shredding it with an angry rip and pulling the remains violently from her shoulders.
“ You’re MINE. And I’ll bloody well have you.”
His tone was dangerously low and deadly – it brooked no argument. But still she resisted, pushing her hands against his chest, trying ineffectually to ward him off.
“ Wait…no…”
She squirmed panting in his grip, succeeding only in fanning his desire further.
He never could hold himself back from her. And he had tried everything : hate, bravado, whiskey, sabotage. He’d put on some stupid schemes to piss her off, create some distance. (And, Hey – if he made some money along the way, so much the better.) He hated being the only one in pain, hell - the only one in LOVE. (Or at least the only one admitting to it.) But in the end, she beat him, outlasted him with her rage and her stubborn unwillingness to even try.
*She has me on my knees - what can I do but worship her?*
All of it flooded in to his kiss – the pain, the rage, the frustration – the sheer bloody agony of loving her. He held her fast to him reveling in her heat, hands rough in her hair. His mouth captured hers, dominating her. The tattered remnants of her dress floated idly to the floor, scattered black butterflies drifting around her feet. He felt the hot silk of her flesh against his own and shivered with delight. Just two more little impediments and…
*What’s this then?*
He held her at arms length for a moment, chuckling. His eyes raked her from head to toe lewdly. She felt almost violated, as if he’d licked her there instead.
“If you didn’t come here for this, Luv, then what’s with the lacy bits of nothing, eh?”
Buffy couldn’t find her voice, stumbling on words that wouldn’t come she tried feebly to cover the black lace bra and panty set she was wearing. Her pretty face pinked brightly with shame. How was he doing this? How was HE in control suddenly? This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go, she came here to have her way with him. She came here for escape and for release. For things she couldn’t quite name, and didn’t dare to think about. It was safe territory; he never asked questions, never expected more than she wanted to give.
*Not like THEM.*
He just made her feel – good, bad, pleasure, pain. Whatever she wanted, whatever she asked for. It was good to feel. And she was in control of it all ...Wasn’t she?
Spike circled her hungrily as she trembled, fear and desire warring in her racing mind. He raised his hand and traced her shoulders with a cool finger, raising goose bumps. Then pulled the heavy ebony comb from her hair, allowing a luxury of gold to fall on her bare skin. Buffy tasted the blood on her lips from his ravenous kiss, and gingerly touched her fingers to her bruised mouth. He circled around front smirking, amused at the gesture.
“ There’s more where that came from, Pet. All the dirty little nasties you want and more...”
“ N-no.” her voice was drained of any conviction. “ That’s not…”
Spike lifted her easily and tossed her on to the sarcophagus they’d lately used as a makeshift bed. She landed with a thud, causing the ancient lid to slide open slightly. The wind knocked out of her she scrambled to get her bearings on the slick satin sheets, her high-heeled sandals catching in the folds. Spiked smiled mockingly, she was “the Slayer” - she could take it. ‘Sides this was nothing compared to what she’d done to him just a few weeks ago. The bites and scars and scratches had only just faded. He unfastened the buttons on his royal blue shirt, baring a well-muscled expanse of marble cream. Stalking her slowly he approached the bed. Buffy skittered away from him, clutching the sheets to her chest. He found her trapped animal act all the more alluring; it aroused the hunter in him.
“Here kitty - kitty…”
He planted a knee on the bed, watching Buffy’s face carefully. Why didn’t she run? Or give him a good wallop for that matter? Closing in he caught her scent…
*Ah, kitty LIKES to play.*
He smiled lasciviously, making a show of sniffing the air.
“ Something smells delicious…whatever could it be? ”
Buffy blushed harder, humiliated. She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself, trembling. Why didn’t she just leave…or…or beat him down? What was it about HIM that made her feel all aroused and guilty and helpless at the same time? And why, oh why did she keep coming back for more? It was starting to control her, to consume her life. She found herself thinking about him through out the day, and then dreaming of him at night. She’d woken up crying out in orgasm more than once, his name fresh on her lips. She would never admit it, but he had her in his thrall – worse than Dracula. Worse than Riley, worse than even Angel, though it made her sick to think it. Because Spike offered her things they never could. He gave her pleasure enough to kill her and pain enough to make her live again. *“All the dirty little nasties you want and more.”*A pleasurable shiver ran through her at the memory.
Spike was next to her now, soothing words tickling her ear.
“There, there kitty. No need to fret. Daddy’s got you now.”
He stroked her hair gently, then moved his hand smoothly to her back. Caressing, soothing his hands calmed her little by little until the tremors stopped. He reached up to take the sheet away, but Buffy held tight. Lightening quick he whipped it hard out of her grasp.
“ We’re playing MY WAY now.”
Before she could utter a single word of protest he was devouring her in a soul - searing kiss. He lifted her easily in his arms and laid her next to him on the buttery satin, scarcely pausing with his greedy mouth. His hands roamed freely over her body, memorizing every line and curve. He was taking her in; every inch, every taste, every morsel. She felt like she was being swallowed whole, on the precipice of the Hellmouth about to fall forever. Unwillingly she felt herself surrender - whatever she might want, her body had other ideas. She was soaking wet, and her nipples ached for attention. However the game went, this was what she came here for…wasn’t it?
His body covered hers as he moved above her. Buffy closed her eyes and concentrated on each separate sensation, willing herself to relax. She felt the smooth skin of his leather pants against her thighs, as he worked his leg in between her own. His chest was like stone against her hot flesh, welcomingly cool and hard. While his hands, God…his hands seemed to be everywhere at once.
“ Don’t close your eyes, Love…I want you to see me, see everything.”
His mouth was enticingly close to her ear; voice a honey drip of promise. She felt his tongue snake along her throat to trace the delicacy of her collarbone. Goosebumps appeared on cue and she fiercely stifled her groan of pleasure.
*SO not giving him the satisfaction.*
She cautiously opened one eye to see what he was up to and found him smirking at her, tongue caught flirtatiously between his teeth. She just hated it when he did that, it made him all arrogantly irresistible. She tried to look away casually, feigning disinterest. Whatever game he was playing, she was not going to let him win. EVER.
*Never win. Never have me.*
She thought fiercely. It became a mantra in her mind as she steeled her resolve against him. He was taking off his shirt now, letting the silk fabric pool casually over her bare belly. Buffy clenched her jaw and willed herself into perfect stillness. Spike grinned with roguish delight.
*Gonna be like that is she?*
He almost laughed out loud. This was just one of those lucky nights when the stars aligned and all was right with the world. He was in charge this time. Just like he was the night they’d literally fucked the house down. He’d met her blow for blow, bite for bite. He may love her, but she NEEDED him and tonight he knew it. Fuck, he could smell how much she needed him, and it made him deliriously hard. He was gonna show her just who’s in charge here. Use him, would she? Play with him like a bleeding cat – draw him in and then shred him with her claws when she was done. Someone was going to be taught her manners tonight. Gonna get shown who needed who in this little game.
Buffy caught her breath in surprise as Spike drew the sinuous fabric over her skin. He slid his hand inside a silky fold to glide it over her stomach, then down her legs. Catching the widening of her green eyes as he stroked her inner thigh.
*Ha, point one for me.*
He removed his hand and let the supple material dance lightly over her body, barely grazing her knees and calves. Then gently back up to tease her thighs ending with the lightest feather of a stroke over her little black panties.
*Never have me, never, never…God…*
Buffy’s brain was in knots while her body was on fire. And he’d barely touched her.
*Just what kind of tramp am I anyway?*
She’d made Riley wait more than a month to get her into bed. He’d had to prove himself to her, win her. But Spike…dammit, he just had to give her a couple of kisses and a quick feel and now she’s ‘Easy Annie’ out for a good time? What the hell was going on? She was disgusted with herself, or she would be if she wasn’t really, really distracted by Spike’s tongue…
*Oh my God…*
Continued in Part Two ...
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