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PULSE 6

By

Mercy

NC-17
WARNING: character death…..no not our dynamic duo!

A/N Thanks to Kar for another fab edit…and nitpick..lol

Chapter Six

Page Me

Buffy looked at her watch as her pager went off, she felt the buzz of the vibrator alert against her jeans, she sighed as it was only 2125hrs (9.25 pm) and she had still a few hours to go of her shift until it was time to finish. Putting down the folder onto the table at which she sat at the nurses’ station, she wondered what this problem could be. Being only one of a handful of medical officers that rotated to cover the hospital, it was her turn to do this shift. All she really wanted to do was go home and put her feet up; of all the bad luck it was, her last day at work before she had a few days off and she was stuck covering this shift. A little smile covered her face as she tried to envisage what she’d be up to on her days off.

Getting her mind back onto the job at hand, she lifted the pager from its clip on her belt and looked down, a frown covered her face. Looking at the pager she was a little confused, maybe someone was having a joke on her, tapping her finger on the pager she was deciding whether to ignore it or call switch and try to find out who sent the bizarre message.

MESSAGE: only a few hours….

She had absolutely no idea who sent it, but she really didn’t have time to worry about it as her pager went off again for a ‘Code Blue’, her heart raced as she read where the cardiac arrest was and got up running to the stairwell to the fifth floor. Her breathing intensified as she made her way to the commotion that was going on in the ward area. The nursing staff had already commenced basic life support and awaiting the arrival of the intensive care team, and the rest of the medical team.

Making her way around to the patient she immediately made her diagnosis looking at the cardiac monitor, ordered the appropriate drugs to make the patient’s heart more responsive, and with no real consequence, she made her first real call in an emergency. “Charge 200,” Buffy called to the nurse team leader to charge the resuscitation pack, placing two gel pads on the patient, she placed the paddles over his chest. “Clear!” she called for the staff to move away from the bed, checking no one was in contact with the bed, she hit the two paddles buttons simultaneously and discharged the electricity into the patient’s chest. Still the rhythm didn’t change she ordered more drugs and commencement of CPR, still nothing. The sweat began to bead on her face as one of the nursing staff nodded towards the young intern, as she mouthed ‘you’re doing great keep going’. “Charge 200.”

“Clear!” again she discharged more electricity, and still no response. “Charge 300.” She continued with further interventions, drugs and cardiac shocks, but still nothing. The resuscitation team arrived and took over, she helped all she could with the attempt, but all failed nothing was going to work. So after an arduous 45 minutes death was pronounced, Buffy was left to fill out the paper work and as she sat she could feel the bile rise from her gut, making her feel like she would be sick. This had been her first real resuscitation and she’d felt like she’d failed, though looking through the patient history there really had been no hope of getting him back. He was one of the victims of the gas blast a few weeks ago. But still this didn’t help the way she felt, all the anguish that she’d felt that fateful day came flooding back too her, it was like she was living it all over again.

All she wanted to do was walk out too seek solace and comfort, and in truth she wanted Spike, not like before on the day of the blast just too feel safe, warm and wanted. She was so tempted to pick up the phone and call him, but was interrupted before she could even pick up the phone.

“Hey doc, you did an excellent job, we did everything that we could have. There was nothing more that could have been done,” the same nurse that had encouraged her, now stood behind her at the desk. “You win some, you lose some.”

Buffy weakly smiled at the woman trying to make some sense of the situation, she could hear the truth in the woman’s statement, but she guessed that she must have seen so much death that at least she had a protective wall around her feelings. Maybe she should take a leaf out of her book and not let her feelings get the better of herself.

“It’s tough when you have your first few, but you get used to it doc. You aren’t a machine, but you also can’t let it affect you, Buffy, you have other people that need you just as much,” the nurse spoke again and made her way towards the other end of the corridor to be with the grieving family.

She could only nod her head in agreement, and continue with what she was doing, so she kept writing in the notes. Letting out a large sigh, she straightened her back, resolved that she wouldn’t let this plague her tonight; maybe she could talk to Spike later about it. At least she did have someone that would understand and be supportive she supposed, any further thoughts were abandoned as her pager went of again. Looking at the message, she nearly dropped it and with shaking hands, she read the message again.

MESSAGE: nearly finished…

Was someone trying to play a bad joke on her? She re-clipped the pager to her belt and picked up the phone to call the switchboard. After explaining the bizarre messages, she asked could they identify the source of them, or give her a number at least. A few minutes later she had her answer, someone from outside the hospital was bypassing the paging system and ‘no they couldn’t identify who was sending them’. Buffy was asked did she want a new pager, but she would probably receive the same messages as they would have to re-route the number to the new pager. So it was pointless to get a new one, the only option was to call security if she got anymore, the final piece of advice that they could give her was to get an escort to her car after her shift for her ‘own safety’.

Putting the whole thing in the back of her mind she continued with her work, page after page continued from nursing staff with enough work to keep her occupied until the end of her shift. The messages seemed to have stopped, she finished her last report and stood up to leave, but her pager went off again. Not wanting to answer it, she decided that as it wasn’t a code call given that the beep was different. She ignored the page because she was about to hand it over to the next shift and she wanted to just get out the hell of there.

Making her way quickly to the medical officers’ common room, she saw the other person that would take over; with a grateful smile, she handed over the pager and gave him a quick run down on what was happening in the hospital. They had a quick chat about life and the meaning of the universe; until Buffy remembered the last page. Quickly taking the pager out of his hand she turned it on, recalled the last message and felt her insides meltdown.

MESSAGE: seeking medical attention room 1071

Spike!

It had too be, he had to be the one that had been paging her all shift; why didn’t she think of him? She’d been so snowed under with work that she hadn’t even thought about it being him. Who else would tell her to come up to the 10th floor except him? But why there and why now? She could have met him at his home, but too many questions and not enough answers crossed her mind, so she did the only thing that she could do she cleared the pager and handed it back to the man that was taking over.

“Hey Buffy, everything okay?” the young man asked as he looked at the quizzical look on her face. “You look a bit worried.”

“No, everything’s fine,” with that she began the walk to the flight of stairs around the corner that would take her to 1071. “Night, Keith.”

“Night, see you tomorrow.”

“Nope, days off,” she turned her head to answer as she walked away.

“Have fun.”

“Oh I will. Bye.”

Buffy disappeared around the corner, with the swish of her coat as she took it off and opened the door to the staircase. Looking up she began to ascend the staircase, each step becoming quicker than the last until she came to the 10th floor. Opening the stairwell door she peered into the corridor and looked around, she could see that the lantern lights just about the floor were on but nothing else. Walking into the hallway she spied the first door number she saw 1028 covered the sign above the handle, looking left and right to see if anyone was about she started down the corridor. She followed the numbers as they got closer to 1071.

1037

1054

1068

She stopped at 1068 and tried to see if she could see any signs of life in 1071, Buffy spotted the illuminated room as a soft ray of light came from under the doors edge. 1071 seemed to be a patient room; Buffy hesitated to go any further as she still wasn’t sure if it was him. Sneaking a bit closer to the door, she pushed it slightly on it’s hinges, opening the door just enough to peer in she saw the single bed made in hospital fashion, surrounded by a lit candle placed here and there. On the bed lay a white satin gown, with a washbasin, soap, wash cloth and a towel beside it, she felt the goose bumps rise as she wondered what just he had in mind.

“Buffy, what are you doing out of bed young lady and why are you in street clothes?” Spike’s voice came from behind her. “I’d think that you’d be trying escape from me, Luv,” he pushed the door open further. “The doc told you to stay in bed, so you’d better get back in and get back into your pyjamas too.”

“What?” Buffy’s mouth hung from her mouth in shock.

“Into bed, Little Girl.” Spike pointed towards the bed. “Or do I have to put you there?”

She finally caught onto what was going on and walked into the room, lifting the nightgown from the bed, she ran a hand down the sheer fabric that wouldn’t leave much to be hidden. Looking back at him, he wore his blue nurses’ scrub uniform with a smirk that covered his lips, as he titled his head to the side. With a slow teasing fashion, he licked his bottom lip and curled his tongue around his top palate. She turned back to the bed, and dropped the gown and just contemplated the situation for a moment before she spoke.

“Doesn’t anyone around here get any privacy?” her words slow and deliberate.

“Five minutes,” with that he shut the door and took a few steps away from the door. “That’s all you get.”

“Fine, god the nurses around here are so pushy,” Buffy began to change into the gown as he requested. “I should report you,” she said playing into the game.

“I heard that!” came from behind the door. “Just watch that mouth, Missy, you should put it to better use.”

“Oh I intend too,” she commented to herself so quietly she hoped that he hadn’t heard.

Continuing to undress herself, she finally put on the gown and slide under the starchy sheets of the bed, and waited for his return. Looking around the room, she saw the candles flicker and occasional hiss as they shone off a dim light, just enough to spread a dim glow into the room. She stared at the washbowl, washcloth, soap and towel she’d moved onto the table that sat by the bed, her mind flared with ideas about what he was going to do to her. Her abdominal muscles tightened as she inhaled deeply to calm herself at the fantasy that played out in her mind, and the fantasy that was unfolding in front of her now.


If he wanted to play ‘naughty nurse’ then he could and it certainly turned the tables on the concept of the usual male fantasy, except she doubted that she’d get the tight short uniform. He might look good in a skirt, laughing quietly to herself she dismissed the thought, she suspected that he’d rather be caught dead than wearing a skirt, even if she asked. But then again he did look somewhat sexy in the blue scrub uniform he wore; it had proven to be very adaptable in its easy quick removal from his delectable hard body when needed. Her thoughts broken by a knock on the door, she watched as it swung open and he sauntered his way back into the room, locking the door behind him. Stopping at the foot of the bed, he looked her up and down; with a single hand he slid it across the bed end as he walked over to the table where the washbasin, soap and towel laid.

“Well, Miss Summers, what are we going to do with you?” Spike collected the things into his hands. “Can’t have you running out on me can I?”

“But I wasn’t…”

“Just have to make sure that you don’t want to run, won’t I,” he walked over to the private bathroom, leaving the door open she watched as he filled the washbasin with water and came back into the room with the towel slung over his shoulder. “Maybe you need some special attention, Miss Summers?”

“Special attention?” she asked him so quietly.

“Yes, Miss Summers, they say nurses have healing hands you know,” Spike placed the full washbasin onto the table again. “Want to test that theory, Luv?”

“What ever do you mean?” Buffy responded with the most innocent voice she could muster without breaking out into a fit of laughter. “I am a sweet shy girl,” again the voice became mockingly innocent as pulled the sheets under her arms until she covered her bust.

“Not when I’m finished with you Luv.” Spike pulled the table closer to the bed until he stood at the bed edge. “One thing I do know is that you, Miss Summers, still haven’t had your wash today.”

With that, he put his hands into the water and soaped up the washcloth that lay in the water, gently squeezing the excess water out of it. Leaning forward he wiped the cloth over her face, and down her neck, drying her face with one hand. With the other he tried to pull the sheet down from her front with a single finger, she retaliated and tugged back on the sheets and blankets with all her might. Grasping the fabric with his hand he pulled back, dropping the cloth back into the basin, a frown covered his face.

“Miss Summers, please,” Spike tried too gently loosen her grip on the sheets as a different tactic. “You’re not co-operating and there’s no need to be modest I’ve done this thousands of times.”

“Thousands?” the look on her face was one of horror. “But we…you…”

“But I’ve never offered them my special attention or healing touch.” He pulled on the sheet again this time she offered only slight resistance. “If you want the touch you only have to ask.”

“Healing touch? Well mister why don’t you prove the theory then.” Buffy let the rest of the sheets drop down to her waist.

Pushing the table slightly away from the bed and moistening the washcloth again, he moved past it until he stood just at her waist, pushing her gently forward as he ran the cloth down her arm. Drying her shoulder and arm, he then slide the shoestring of her gown down past her shoulder blade, with slow deliberateness he tenderly kissed her shoulder. Spike leant over her as he continued across her chest just above her bust, until he reached the other side, where he slide the cloth down her arm taking the other gowns shoestring with him. He stoped only to dry her arm, her gown hung from her upper body with Buffy applying the lightest pressure from her arms to keep it in place.

“Lean forward.”

Buffy complied immediately with his command, she leaned a little forward as she felt him moved around to her back sliding the cloth along her exposed flesh, but this time no kisses followed like before. He quickly dried her back, and moved back to the basin with Buffy coming to lie back on the bed, she watched as he soaped the cloth again. He caught her attention as with the other hand pulled back the sheet until it sat upon her knees, his eyes mesmerised by her body as he took his fill in of her. With out asking Buffy dropped the gown to her waist as she pulled the straps down, she watched as he took the cloth and lathed her chest with the soapy water.


He bathed each breast with his hand in circular motions and at times allowed his whole hand to encompass her flesh, applying the most delicious pressure. Yet he didn’t touch her skin to skin, the cloth became a warm barrier between them, at times he would softly pull the skin as it began to peaked under his hands. From one mound to the other he would move, watching her face as the tension began to cascade through her body. Dispensing with the cloth, he ran the rough towel along her now sensitive breasts, the coarseness of the fabric creating extra delectable pleasure to the arousal that was building up within her.

“Miss Summers, please remove your gown,” he spoke as the fantasy intensified and progressed.

Buffy pulled the gown down her body, lifting her hips to slide it along, as she removed it from herself and at the same time, she pulled the sheets down to the bed end. Spike moistened the cloth again, running it up and down her abdomen repeatedly, in bold long strokes. He felt every muscle in her stomach clench and her exaggerate breathes as the tension built up with her, ricocheting along his hand into his own body. Finding control difficult, he grabbed the towel and wiped her dry, tempting fate he ran soft butterfly kisses around the outside of her navel, lapping the flesh at times with his tongue, occasionally dipping it into her in short sharp strokes, leaving not much to her imagination about what he really what to do to her.

“Nurse Devine, should you be doing that? I mean it’s a bit inappropriate what you’re doing isn’t it?” Buffy struggled with her words.

“It’ll just be our little secret,” Spike broke away from her body and faced his head towards her. “Just between you and me.”

Standing up straight again, he moved back to the basin as he wet the washcloth again, this time he washed the front of her left leg then the other. Lifting her knees up with one hand, he smoothed the cloth under her leg, repeating the same with the other until both were washed and dried. Throwing the towel onto the floor, he moved back to the table and pushed it aside against the wall of the room, stepping back to the bed he pulled the sheets that lie at the bed end and throw them on top of the towel. Making his way back, he watched as Buffy repositioned herself on the bed, with her right knee bent awaiting his return to her as she licked her lips.

Making his way to the foot of the bed, he released the bed end of its hinges and let it slip down the bed, hanging on its hinges. Patting the end of the mattress with his hand, he waited for her to shuffle down the bed to where his hand lay. Moving down Buffy placed her bottom on his hand and lifted her feet to lie on the mattress with her knees bent. Leaning forward, Spike slipped his thumbs under the side of her panties and pulled them off her one leg at a time, tucking them into his scrub shirt pocket like a memento. Slipping his hands onto her ankles he followed her calves until he reached her knees, sliding his hand into her inner thigh he pushed her knees apart, leaving her open to him.

“Time to test the healing hands theory, Miss Summers,” Spike asked of her. “Any place in particular, Miss Summers? Does it burn or itch anywhere?”

Buffy moved her hands over her breasts, pulling them to a peak and continued down her abdomen until she reached her pubic bone. Skimming the surface of her legs, she pulled herself slightly up so she could reach his hands, and pulled them to her pubic bone. Guiding one of his hands to her wet slit, she slide it down her crease as her released moisture eased his way down until it reached her entrance. With his other hand she pulled it to her mouth, taking a single digit she slipped it into her mouth and ran her tongue along it, making swirling patterns and suckling it gently. Letting his finger go she lay back onto the mattress and pushed his hand towards one of her breast, applying gentle pressure that he mimicked on her flesh.

“I have an itch right there Nurse Devine, but it’s so deep inside me that I can’t scratch it.” Buffy spoke with a husky voice laden with desire and burned with fervour. “It burns like fire.”

Slipping two fingers into her vagina, Spike shallowly stroked her inner walls with slow strokes, massaging the wet flesh that tingled and tightened under his touch. With the same rhythm, he rolled her nipple rolling the nipple between his fingers, tweaking the harden flesh. As his stroking of her walls increased so did the depth of his touch, as he rubbed her inner flesh he curled his fingers up as he passed her g-stop. He could see every effect that he had as he touched her on the right spot, as he watched her face contort in a passionate frenzy desperate for each touch to last that little bit longer. Buffy began grinding her hips against his hand in a desperate effort to feel more of him deeper inside of her, moving against his hand trying to create a heavenly friction between them.

“Is that alleviating the itch, Miss Summers?” Spike spoke to her with a voice of authority. “Maybe just a bit more pressure?”

“Oh god…yes!” Buffy grunted out in demand.

He didn’t even wait for her reply as he pushed a third digit in with the others; taking his hand down from her breast he ground it against her clit. Around and around he pushed his palm into her mound, yet he didn’t touch her as it created even more unbearable pressure on her body. She felt like not once inch of her inside walls were being missed by his inquisitive fingers, he watched as she flung her head back as the pressure became almost unbearable, her walls began to flutter against his fingers as her body prepared for her own release.

Spike quickly pulled his palm away from her clit, undid his scrub pants and grabbed one of her ankles in his palms as he pulled out his cock, plunging it into her contracting walls. He pushed in as far as she could accommodate him, as she walls fluttered and waved around his cock, his world seemed to stop as he let himself flow in the consuming passion that burnt around them. This was the moment he loved best when he was with her, her muscles squeezing him so tightly as she was flooded with more moisture to make it easier for him to create friction within her as they fucked.

Buffy hurled into her orgasm at the shock of being so deeply impaled on his cock, her eyes wide with astonishment as she watched his cheek muscles twitch. With the pressure and pleasure he was feeling from her contracting muscles, and the depth of control he was trying to maintain. Finally opening his eyes, he locked gazes with her as he lifted her other ankle with his hand, raising them both up to his hips he slowly began small thrusts deep within, hitting her cervix time and again. So small that you could just see the sway of his body as he tempted her with his cock, giving her little movements that sent wave after wave of craving through her. He watched as she let out little breathes in time with his thrusts, and as they increased as he began grinding his hips to encircle every inch of her.

With a change in tempo, he slammed into her as she began to push herself against him as he slid within her trying in desperation to increase the pleasure she was experiencing. Buffy grasped the linen as she tried to control the urge just to grab his hips and pull him harder against her; she craved a deeper and solidifying touch within her. As if sensing her need he began too almost crush himself against her, the bed moved slightly under them at the force of his thrusts, and the headboard tapped on the wall behind it.

“Fuck Buffy…if this is an itch…fuck…” Spike grunted out his words as she continued to thrust deeply within her. “I love the way you …clench those muscles around me.”

“You mean like this…” Buffy tried to concentrate as she pulled on her pelvic wall and milked his cock. “Or like this…” as she released and tightened against him again.

He stopped as she caressed his ridged flesh, he just seated himself inside her enjoying the pleasure she was granting him. Her face flushed in concentration, and her teeth pulled on her bottom lip as she dragged out his pleasure increasing the strength of the pressure she placed on his cock and the time between each contraction. Spike lifted her ankles that held onto his hips to his shoulders, as he suddenly withdrew himself from her and bent down to reach for something. Buffy watched as he lifted a control pad within his hand, placing a single finger on it Buffy felt the bed rise, she couldn’t help but let out a squeal as his usual cocky smirk covered his face.

Lifting the bed of the floor about 30-50cms he dropped the remote to the side of the bed, still with her legs over his shoulder, he dipped his head between her legs, slipping his hands into her lips he spread them for his mouth. Taking the first swipe of her outer lips with his tongue Buffy nearly threw herself of the bed, her flesh so hypersensitive from the hard fuck he’d been giving her. She felt swollen beneath his mouth, her nub engorged with blood and arousal as he’d brought her to such dizzy heights, slowly he began lapping his tongue against her clit. Deliberate short strokes, just for a millisecond tempting her flesh, rubbing it gently with his rough tongue and suckling the nub so gently that she could just feel the sensation as it passed through her body.

Spike held her to the bed as her hips reared slightly up seeking more of him, trying to make each touch and stroke seem longer. Moving the tempo forward, he released her clit from the possession of his mouth as he moved further down to her entrance of her heated core. Moving his hands around her lower legs, he hugged her thighs in place as he pushed his tongue inside her, in shallow strokes mimicking the movements his cock. Swirling around inside her walls he lapped against the flesh, darting in and out as he played with her, heat flooded through his mouth as he felt the fever between then consume her. Sporadically he pulled outside of her, moving back to nibble at her clit, make her almost stop breathing as another shockwave speared through her body, making her abdominal muscles tighten and contract as she shuddered against her lover.

He could feel his own craving to feel her surrounding him again, as much as he was deriving pleasure from what he was doing to him, his cock strained and ached for her. Grabbing the remote for the bed again, he felt for the right button and pushed watching as Buffy looked up from where she was watching what he was doing to her, to see his face emerge with his trademark smirk again. ‘Cocky bastard’ filled her thoughts as she felt him lower the bed again; he motioned to her with a sweep on his hand for her to move up the bed, which she again immediately complied. Spike grabbed his scrub shirt and pulled it off, running his hand down his chest he placed his hand over his cock and moved his hand along its hardened flesh as he watched Buffy spread her legs in invitation for him. His tongue peered out for just a quick second as he contemplated his next move.

“On your knees, Luv, and hands on the head board.”

He looked on as Buffy sat up and turned herself over the bed, lifting herself into a kneeling position, and turning her head to watch him as she blindly felt for the headboard. Feeling for the bar of cold metal that was attached to the headboard, she gripped it with both hands, she locked gaze with him as he walked to the side of he bed. Making his way towards her, he ran one of his hands over her backside, up her spine and over her shoulder until he reached her jaw. Hunched over he kissed her lips thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he let her taste herself as his tongue lapped at the flesh around her teeth. Pulling away at times to nip at her lower lip and with a swipe of his tongue to soothe the bite.

Standing back, he broke their kiss, and ran the same hand as before down her side, as he moved back behind her until he stood at the end of the bed. Leaning one leg onto the edge he vaulted himself onto the bed, using the frame to pull himself up within the very limited space that the bed offered. Flushing himself against Buffy, he sat on his knees between her open legs and leaned over her so his chest covered her back, with one hand he covered a hand of hers, lacing his fingers through it. Running his other hand up her thigh, along her abdomen and stopping at her breast, cupping it as he gently tugged on the hardened nipple and massaging the globe within his hand.

“Please Spike…I need you…to feel you.” Buffy wished her desire to him.

Letting her breast go, he followed the path he took to her breast back to her thigh, reaching in between them his grasped his cock in his hand, and slid it along her slit using the moisture flowing along her channel to moisten his hard flesh. Slipping in the head to the entrance he grasped her hip and pulled her backwards to fit against his pelvic bone, her soft ‘nugh’ could be heard in the silence of the room. Spike fought the urge to let caution go and grab her by the hips and slam into her, but he doubted the bed would allow him that privilege, so gently he began thrusting deeply inside her.

‘That’s it baby fuck me back...harder…so fucking deep…”

Buffy arched her back against his chest as she reared against him in need, her head thrown back against his shoulder as he moved within her, she began rocking herself on the bed the best she could as he stroke down wards inside her. Flesh against flesh could be heard slapping against each other as they moved in synchronisation; the bed began to rock on its wheels as Spike slammed harder into her. Letting go of one of his hands from the bar on the headboard, he wrapped his arm across her hips, as he controlled her movements against him, changing the tempo or angle of his cock sliding against her vaginal walls. He kissed her shoulder as they moved together, at times nipping at her collarbone or licking at her skin as he rocked against her.


Buffy felt every muscle in his chest and abdomen tighten and contract as he breathed or moved they were so tightly drawn together with a hunger for each other, that she could feel his well-defined six-pack rubbed against her lower back. She could feel every single movement of his cock inside her, she felt like she was about to explode in the gravity of the lust, passion and desire that flooded through her body. Every hard and deep thrust seemed to hit every inch of her core; it was as if she was suffocating sometimes as her breath got caught in her throat. Or when he’d hit just the right place, she’d desperately want to let go of the bed so she could grab him against her even harder. She found this the most difficult as she knew that it would probably mean that they’d fall off the narrow bed, as she desperately fought for her control.

He could feel her walls surrounding his cock begin to flutter and tighten as her body signalled it’s need to come, the pressure it put on his own flesh was immense as he felt himself begin to tighten in response. He tightened his hand that braced her hips with such strength that it would surely leave bruises on her skin, he plunged faster and deeper in her body spurred on by her impending release. Letting go of the headboard with one of her hands she slipped it in between her legs, letting her fingers feel his cock as he thrust against her. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure along his body, the added stimulation drew him nearer to his own orgasm, sending him into a frenzy that craved to be relieved.

“Luv can’t wait much longer, need to come so hard baby,” Spike grunted inside her ear. “Make my girl come so hard with me.” Hearing his words Buffy reared herself high against him and began to stroke herself, as she let herself go into the abyss that awaited her; she squeezed his cock as it rammed itself into her wet flesh. Spike felt the pressure escalate as she fluttered against him, her body start to convulse against him as she allowed herself to come. “Fuck Buffy...that’s it…come hard for me…that’s my girl.”

“Yours…” Buffy cried out over and over as the bliss of her orgasm rocked through her body. “Always yours.”

“Mine…”

Spike pulled her sharply against him one more time as he came inside her, pulling her upper torso against his chest as he grinded his hips into her in the final foray of passion. The only thing that could be heard in the room now was the hard breathing sounds that come from both of them, as they caught their breath. In the aftermath, Spike loosened his tight grip that he had on her hips as she slowly lifted herself of his body, and turned herself around. Sitting on her knees, she lifted her arms against his face as she passionately kissed her lover. Pulling him down to the mattress as they thrust against each others’ tongues, tasting and consuming any unresolved passion they had that their tired bodies could play out anymore. Buffy was the first to pull away.

“You know I still should report you for being rude.”

“Rude? How?”

“Being bossy!” Buffy gently punch him on the arm.

“Yeah Luv, I’m a bad rude man.”

“Hmm… bad? Yes. Rude? Depends. But at least you proved one thing.”

“What?”

“You do have the touch,” giggling like a schoolgirl, her eyes lit up brightly as an idea popped into her head, she turned her head slightly away from him as the idea became thoughts, and then a plan.

“What are you thinking? I can see something running around in your head.” Spike asked her.

“Just wait and see…” Buffy said nothing as she hatched a plan to turn the tables on him. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”





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