[Reviews - 254]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 5226 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 8 - The Right to be Wrong


Everything around her seemed to fade away. The soft feel of his lips moving over hers in a sensual caress, the way his hands seemed to skate over her skin, leaving her shivering in their wake. The warmth of his breath against her. Everything inside of her seemed to scream at her to push him away, but a long, dormant part of her cried out at the potential loss of what she had secretly craved for so long.

And then a face swam through her fogged mind. Xander. Dear, sweet, trusting Xander, who had never done anything to warrant this kind of treatment from her. He deserved better.

Planting her hands on Spike’s chest, Buffy pushed him firmly away, panting softly as she looked up into his glazed-over eyes, seeing the same need reflected in his gaze.

Nervously running her tongue over her swollen lips, Buffy blinked to clear her mind, dragging a hand through her hair as she stepped away from him. “Don’t,” she warned, holding up a hand to him as he stepped toward her.

“Don’t what?” he asked, a challenging note in his voice as he continued to approach her.

“Spike, you’re engaged,” Buffy hissed through clenched teeth, as if they were in front of a crowd of onlookers and not alone in an alley. “You don’t want me. You saw it fit to propose to another woman, and at the very least, she deserves faithfulness.”

“First of all, she was the one who proposed,” he said, glancing over her shoulder with a grin.

Buffy paused, tilting her head to look at him, the tension of the moment temporarily fading away as she thought of the hilarity of that statement. “So that’s what it takes to get you to the altar,” she said, trying to keep the smile from her face. “I should’ve known you’d have to be dragged there with a collar around your neck.”

Raising an eyebrow as he looked her up and down, Spike smiled. “Is it a nice leather one, pet?”

Her smile immediately fading, Buffy took another instinctive step away. “That’s not funny.”

“It was a little funny,” he replied with a shrug.

“Do you not even care that by doing this, you would be hurting the woman you love?”

“Who said anything about love?” Spike practically yelled, pausing to stare at her after a moment before looking away with a sigh. “But you’re right. She does deserve better than this.”

Buffy nodded, trying not to dwell on the disappointment that seemed to curl through her chest. “We just… we just have to remember the reason we’re here.”

“Right,” Spike agreed with a nod, keeping his gaze firmly away from Buffy as if by looking at her, he would do something he’d regret. “Jordan. He’s the most important thing.”

“We need to figure out how to tell… them.”

“Tell them?”

“About Jordan,” Buffy clarified hurriedly. “Not about… this,” she muttered, gesturing back and forth between them. “Because this is… it’s nothing.”

“Nothing,” Spike repeated, not sounding as if he agreed with her at all. Looking at the ground for a moment, his voice was soft as it traveled through the alley. “I’ll tell Anya tomorrow.”

“And I’ll tell Xander,” Buffy replied, anxiously rubbing the back of her neck.

“Then it’s agreed?”

“It’s agreed,” she said, wishing that she could disappear, hating the awkward tension between them.

“I better go.”

“Yeah… me, too,” she said, glancing up to meet Spike’s gaze as he stared at her.

“It’s forgotten?”

With the feel of his lips still fresh in her mind, Buffy nodded. “Forgotten.”

* * * * *

Angrily scrubbing the remaining dish in her sink, Buffy nearly snapped the plate in half as she continued to relive every moment of her afternoon with Spike. “Stop thinking about him,” she lectured herself angrily.

“Talking to yourself again, love?”

With a shriek, Buffy spun around to the doorway, sending a stream of water cascading over the floor, seeing Spike standing behind her with a broad smile on his face, obviously pleased at the reaction he’d received.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Buffy asked, staring at him in bewilderment.

“Thought I could stop by and see my son. Don’t worry, I checked to make sure the whelp’s truck wasn’t here before I walked in. You really should keep the door locked, Goldilocks. Anyone could get in here.”

“Anyone did,” she replied through clenched teeth, grabbing a towel from the counter and bending down to mop up the water. “And what about Anya?”

“Out doing some wedding thing,” he said, reaching for another towel to help her clean up.

“Jordan’s not here,” Buffy said, brushing a lock of hair away from her forehead. “My friend Willow wanted to give me the night off, so she took him for a few hours.” Looking up to see his reaction, Buffy nearly gasped when she noticed how close he was to her. Clearing her throat, she quickly turned away, standing up to throw the towel in the sink, painfully aware of Spike rising to his feet behind her and leaning over her to do the same. The heat from his body made her painfully aware of the distance between them. Smoothing the invisible wrinkles in her pants, Buffy took a calming breath as she turned to face him. “You should go,” she said softly.

Spike nodded, his eyes still firmly on hers. “I should,” he agreed in a quiet tone.

“It’s… we shouldn’t be alone… together,” she continued, struggling to find the right words. “We don’t… we barely know each other and… and we don’t feel that way about…”

Unable to look into eyes as her words trailed off, Buffy began to step around him, inhaling sharply when she felt his hand settle on her arm. Turning toward him, she stared into his soft blue eyes, feeling an unusual mixture of feelings. Hope and remorse. Remorse because she knew she should be a better person. And hope…

Practically dragging him down toward her, Buffy met his lips in a frantic kiss, her hands sliding from the back of his neck into his hair, freeing it from the gel as he wrapped his arms around her back, bending her slightly to gain more control.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered in a strained voice, breaking away long enough for him to leave soft kisses over her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes closed at the feelings he invoked, contradicting her words as she pulled him closer to her.

“No,” Spike agreed, clenching his jaw as she spread her legs slightly, allowing him the room to thrust his growing erection against her abdomen. “But we are.”

Looking into his eyes, Buffy nearly trembled at the lust she saw there. “Oh God, Spike, I need you,” she whispered, her voice partially resigned as she realized how true it was, united with the fact that she could never truly have all of him.

Smashing his mouth against hers, Spike hungrily ran his tongue along her lips, feeling her shiver when she opened to him. Nearly pulling back in surprise when he felt her hands on the zipper of his pants, he kissed her with bruising intensity as he practically ripped her clothes in his haste to feel her skin against his.

Briefly pulling away, Spike grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside, reaching for Buffy again as she finished removing her pants. Grasping her hips in his hands, he eagerly lifted her to the counter behind her, groaning as he kissed her again, feeling her legs wrap around his waist. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes as he thrust into her. Hearing Buffy cry out in pleasure, he firmly held her back as she arched against him, his eyes never leaving her face while she adjusted to his size.

Their frantic breathing filled the room as they slowly began to move with each other. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, brushing soft kisses over her bare shoulder and pulling her hips toward his.

“Don’t,” Buffy said, shaking her head as she held onto his shoulders. “Don’t say that, Spike.”

“Why not?” he asked, pulling away from her until she whimpered before slamming his hips against hers with brutal force that had her nearly collapsing against him as a small orgasm raced through her. “You can’t tell me it’s not true.”

Lifting her up, Spike spun around, pressing her against the wall, feeling Buffy shiver as her skin was met with the cool surface. “Say you need me,” he whispered, his sensual lips caressing her pulse points as he plunged into her. “Say you’ve missed me.”

Buffy trembled, nearly burying her face against his shoulder as feelings continued to overwhelm her. Feeling Spike tighten his hold on her body, she gasped when he gave her a firm shake.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Why do you need to hear it?” she asked, pulling away breathlessly, her face flushed as he continued to move within her. “Will it make any of this easier tomorrow? Fine, I need you,” she said feverishly. “I need you. There won’t be a day that goes by that I won’t remember that. Does that make you happy? Is that what you want to hear?”

Not saying anything, Spike pushed her against the wall, thrusting into her until she was nearly sobbing with need, clawing at his back.

Moving with him, Buffy trembled as her climax seemed to slam into her. Arching her back, she screamed as the waves seemed to crash over her.

Feeling her muscles clenching around him, Spike pressed his face against her neck, his teeth involuntarily fastening onto her skin as he found his release, spilling himself into her.

Buffy gasped at the feel of his mouth, sliding her hand along the back of his neck, into his hair to briefly hold him in place as more tremors shook through her.

Gently kissing her throat, Spike tried to catch his breath, his hold slowly loosening on her as he held her tenderly. Pulling back after a moment, he saw the uneasy look in Buffy’s eyes.

Taking in his appearance, Buffy idly played with a curl that had fallen over his forehead. “Where do we go from here?”





You must login (register) to review.