He slammed the door closed and locked it, pressing her back against the hard wood. She made a satisfied sound in the back of her throat and arched toward him, seeking more of his warmth, more of the wonderful friction that was sending tingles throughout her body.
His hands found the hem of her dress, slipping upwards. She thrust her hips forward, hoping he’d attend to the soaking wet there—but he continued upwards, unhooking the front clasp of her bra and cupping her breasts in his hands.
Their moans were simultaneous. “God, Buffy,” he panted, leaning his forehead against hers, gently rolling her nipples between his fingers, “Wanted this for so long…”
She gasped and clutched at him. “Shirt off,” she ordered breathlessly.
A second later, when he went to shed it, she realized that maybe she’d made a mistake in ordering him to do so, since when he was unclothing himself he wasn’t touching her.
She solved the problem by pushing his hands away and pulling the vest and shirt off herself, making a satisfied sound when she lay her hands on his abdomen, feeling the muscles rippling there.
He chuckled. “See somethin’ you like?” His hands went over her breasts and skimmed down, down, until they rested on her ass.
Two could play that game. She smiled at him slyly. “See, feel…” She slid her hand down and squeezed his erection. She licked her lips when she felt it jump under her touch. “Taste,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him.
He groaned into her mouth before attacking her with his tongue. Hands slid over skin, both of them rejoicing that they could finally be as close as possible without reservation.
When his hands lifted her ass into the air, Buffy eagerly wrapped her legs around his wait. “Bed?” she murmured when he nipped at her ear. “Oooh, God…”
“Mm,” was her only answer, but judging by the stairward stumbling, she guessed that was where they were going.
Somehow—later, Buffy would mull over it, and still not be able to puzzle out exactly how they’d managed it—they got up the stairs and into Spike’s room without falling or breaking their liplock. When they entered the room, though, they both stopped.
Buffy unlocked her arms from where they’d been around his neck and slid down his body, feeling his hard-on jump at her movements, before taking a step back. Spike stared at her with his head tilted sideways, clearly trying to puzzle out what she was doing. “Something wrong, pet?”
She would’ve liked to answer that, but the thing was, she really didn’t know. It had just struck her, all of a sudden, that the first time she’d come in here had only been a few weeks ago, and that then, she’d thought she hated him. There had been some crazy-bad UST going on, but she’d still been clinging to the idea that she wasn’t even a bit attracted to him.
Look how far we’ve come.
“Buffy? You in there?” Spike reached out and brushed a finger along her face.
She smiled up at him. “Yeah. Present and accounted for.” Her voice was soft. “I’m glad we’re here,” she admitted, glancing up at him shyly—which she knew was weird, given all that had been going on.
“You’re not the only one.” His hand cupped her cheek, tracing her features. “God, I still can’t believe…”
“What?”
He made a frustrated noise. “’s nothin’.”
“No, it’s definitely something,” she insisted. “Now tell me.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“I just—‘ve been havin’ arguments with m’self all night long, ‘bout whether or not you were ready to—you know,” he confessed with an embarrassed grimace.
“What?” He’d worried about her being ready? How dumb was that? Stupid Spike and his stupid overprotectiveness!
Although—she had to admit this to herself—most guys wouldn’t even have bothered with the worrying, they just would’ve boinked her and gone off whistling. And it was kinda cute, this Billy Idol-wannabe rocker guy telling her that he worried about them having sex.
“I know, ‘s completely poncy, but—“
Wow. He looked stressed. Buffy decided to be the nice one in the situation—she moved forward and slipped her arms around his waist, turning her face up, deliberately pouting. “Spike?”
He gulped. “Yeah?”
She wriggled a bit, pressed herself against his leg. When he felt what she was doing, he gasped.
She reached up and pulled his head down. Just before their lips met, she whispered, “I am definitely ready.”
*
Well, that was nice to know, ‘specially considering that he was about to pound her into his bed.
If that wanker Angel hadn’t grumbled a million times about how she wouldn’t give it up, Spike would’ve never guessed that she was a virgin—she was just so damned enthusiastic. She pulled at his pants, kissed his neck and his chest, until he was just as frantic as she. He’d wanted to give her a hugely romantic seduction, but somehow, he couldn’t manage it. Even as he fondled her perfect breasts and stared down at her in complete disbelief that this beautiful girl was his, a certain part of his anatomy was demanding to be satisfied.
“Bloody hell!” His scattered train of thought was cut off when Buffy finally succeeded in getting his pants off. Kicking them across the room, she reached down and gripped his cock firmly in one small but very eager hand.
Just the feel of her—knowing that she wanted to make him just as happy as he was determined to make her—was almost enough to make him go off, right then. He closed his eyes in a frantic effort to regain control. “Buffy, luv—“
“You need to be inside me?” His girl’s voice was slightly amused. She kissed the tip of his nose.
“Well, yeah, but—“
“It’ll hurt,” she finished.
He opened his eyes. “You readin’ my mind, or something?”
She rolled her eyes. “Puh-leeze. Spike, this is so the same thing every single guy ever says to his virgin girlfriend. I’ve read, like, a million Avon romances, you know.”
He chuckled. She might be able to predict him, but he was surprised by her almost every time she opened her mouth. “I love you so much, you know that?”
As soon as he said it, they both froze. Spike mentally slapped himself—good job, you sorry git. Spend all night wonderin’ if she’s ready and tryin’ not to scare her away, and then you blurt out a declaration of love. You really are worse than the poofter. He steeled himself for what he was pretty damn sure would be rejection.
*
Buffy was kind of shocked, and part of her was scared as hell, but she was starting to think that was kind of the normal course of events. One second she was all over him and the next her not-so-lucid brain was screaming at her to cut it out. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was love, but…well…she was wondering, more and more, if maybe Spike being in love with her wasn’t such a bad thing. Which considering that I like bit Dawn’s head off earlier for saying he was is pretty good progress…
So instead of running scared, she just smiled at him. “I love you, too,” she told him, curling her legs round his back.
“God, Buffy.” Spike gazed down at her worshipfully for what felt like the millionth time that night. She was nowhere near tired of it. “’ve waited so sodding long…”
She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, gripping him tightly. “Me, too,” she told him. “I mean, I guess even when we were fighting, I sort of knew…it was always too much fun.”
He chuckled. “That it was, pet.”
She smiled in response, edging just a little closer, trying to make him realize that she wanted less talk and more him being inside of her. She was so going to rape him if he didn’t just…
“Oh!”
She squeaked. She actually squeaked. He entered just the teensiest bit, and she squeaked!
But apparently it was a good squeak, or something, because he groaned louder than he had all night and slid forward a bit more. “God…so…bleeding…”
She barely heard him; her thoughts had spiraled away the second the friction started as heat shot through every part of her body, centering on the area that he was currently entering, making her want more—making her feel so incredibly—
“Wonderful,” she breathed happily, clutching him. If this was what making love was like, why had she waited so long?
“Damn right.” He came up against her hymen and paused. “Buffy, I know you said it was old news, but—“
“This’ll hurt,” she said impatiently. “I know! And if you don’t just do it, I really will rape you!”
The look he gave her almost knocked her out, it was so hot. “Save that for later, pet,” he growled, before flexing his muscles and thrusting as quickly as possible.
Just like when he’d entered her, white-hot fire shot through her veins—only this time, it was fire of the painful, make you want to cry variety. She stifled a scream, fingers digging into his shoulder.
“Buffy—pet—I’m so sorry, I did tell you, the first time always hurts, oh baby please stop, you okay, Goldilocks? We can stop if you want to…”
Stop? Through a fog of fading pain and mounting desire, she heard him offer to stop. Oh, no. That was so never happening. Not right now, anyway.
She reached back and grabbed his ass, holding the cheeks tightly. “Spike?” Despite the aggressiveness of her actions, her voice was soft.
He halted his litany immediately. “Yeah, luv?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “You sound like Angel.”
Buffy forestalled his laughter by rotating her hips, making them both gasp. “Oh—“
“Bloody—hell—“
After that, all coherent thought completely fled. All Buffy knew was that he was moving inside of her, and licking and gently biting her nipples, and she was running her hands up and down his back and kissing him like there was no tomorrow—but then, even if there wasn’t, she didn’t really care, as long as he kept making her feel like this, as long as he kept driving her toward the point that she could feel, just out of reach…
She ran her tongue up his neck, tasting salt. “Love you,” she panted, meeting his thrusts with her own. She could feel her orgasm—so very close—she wanted to reach it, but at the same time, she wanted these incredible feelings to keep going forever.
*
That admission—free of any urging on his part—just whipped Spike into an even greater frenzy. “Buffy—so sweet—fuck—love you too—oh, bleeding—incredible—“ He’d never been in anyone tighter. Her (now former) virginity, combined with her petite frame, made her exquisitely tight, and she was wet as hell.
Her exquisite body, combined with the fact that she was just as enthusiastic as he was, that the bed frame wasn’t pounding up against the wall due only to his thrusts, made him want to stay here, like this, forever.
But he could feel himself coming. He was babbling incoherently, praising her, blurting out obscenities, kissing her frantically—and every move she made, every little groan or endearment or hell, every sodding breath, had him closer.
He reached down, down, curving his hands first around her breasts and then around her pussy, finding and pressing down on her clit.
“Oh—my—God—Spike!” Buffy came with an incoherent scream that he thought might be his name. Her hands dug into his shoulders, still moving with him as he continued to thrust into her, nearly losing his mind at the sensation of her already incredibly tight muscles spasming around him, squeezing him like nothing he’d ever felt.
She came down slowly, finally opening her eyes and smiling at him. “I love you,” she whispered again, leaning up and kissing him before deliberately squeezing him with her vaginal muscles as tightly as she possibly could.
For Spike, that was the end of the line. He came with a roar, saying her name over and over again like a prayer, clutching her wait frantically as he shot into her.
He collapsed next to her, pulling out as gently as he could. “Bloody hell, Buffy,” he gasped, fighting for breath.
“Agreed,” she said, her hand over her heart. “Is it—always—that wonderful?”
He couldn’t stop himself—a smile spread over his face. “You thought it was wonderful?”
She stared at him. “Well, yeah,” she said, unconsciously echoing a favorite phrase of his.
He pulled her closer to him, rejoicing inside when she automatically rested her head on his chest. “Not entirely sure, kitten,” he replied. “With Dru it was always damn hot, but not…not like this.” He said the last part quietly, staring down at her face. She was so beautiful, fresh and innocent yet so damn sexy it almost undid him. What had he done to deserve her?
And now she was pouting. “Humph. Better not be thinking about Drusilla.”
“Buffy, ‘m head over sodding heels in love with you.” He nipped her lip affectionately. “Wasn’t thinking of anyone but you…and m’ dick,” he added, grinning.
She slapped his chest halfheartedly. “Butthole.”
“Not just yet, kitten,” he teased, earning another slap. He laughed, and then made her giggle when his laugh caught on a yawn.
“Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”
She snuggled into him; he reveled in the feeling. Lying there in his bed, with his girl at his side and post-orgasmic bliss weighing his body down, he was happier than he’d ever been before.
“Okay.” The word followed the deed; just a few minutes later, she was sleeping, mouth half-open in a soft snore.
He smiled at that. She was unbelievably adorable. He adjusted her head ever so slightly so that they were both more comfortable before kissing the top of her head.
“See you in the morning, luv.”
~*~
A/N: Eh. Was that okay? *is insecure* I’m just…I dunno. I feel like I’m piling on the sap and clichés, and I’m really unsure about the whole thing…OK, I’ll stop blabbering. This is the last chap I’m going to post before I move up to Maryland. I might not have Internet access for awhile, so I decided to make it a happy one. Thanks again and again for all the reviews telling me what you thought of the last chapter—it means the world to me! And of course I wouldn’t mind if you weighed in again *hopeful look*
[Reviews - 480]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 4955 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
At bottom