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"Slayer?" Spike asks from the bed and I bury my face deeper into the rugs beneath it as I hear the bed shifting under his weight. "Wanna explain what you’re doing?"

"I fell," I state the obvious into the carpeting.

"Noticed that, did ya?" embarrassment heats and reddens my cheeks at his openly amused tone. "I’m a bit more curious as to why you were just molesting my corpse."

"I was not mol - ," I instantly bolt upright at that accusation, kneeling next to the bed and turning to glare at him only to have my protest cut off along with my oxygen as I find myself staring at his crotch which is once again right in my face thanks to his having sat up while I was sprawled on the floor.

The organ receiving the bulk of my gaping stare jerks as if sensing my awestruck gaze and I find myself licking my lips when a drop of moisture becomes visible on the head as it peeks out from beneath the foreskin. My fingers itch to wrap around the thick shaft that stood out at least ten inches from a nest of light brown curls and curved up toward his chiseled abs. My mouth opens slightly with the hunger to take him inside and taste that moisture. My pussy aches emptily and grows even wetter, as if weeping to be filled by … that. My whole body shudders in reactions to the wants flooding my system and the images filling my head and oh my God, I think I’m drooling!

"Like what you see, luv?" he asks knowingly, breaking into my thoughts and bringing me sharply back to reality.

Eyes widening even further in mortification I snap my mouth shut and leap to my feet. I try to say something scathing to deny it, but no sound comes out and no matter how much I force my attention to the floor, the walls of the cavern, anywhere but Spike and … that, my gaze keeps returning there and all potential words to speak are just gone from my head.

"Cover up!" I finally order a bit frantically as it becomes clear there’s no way in Hell I can concentrate on anything but it as long as it’s all out in the open like that, waving about all hard and long and strong and tempting.

"You could just avert those blushin’ eyes, Slayer, if it disturbs you," he informs me with a smirk.

That cocky expression draws my attention to his lips and gets me remembering those long suppressed memories of his mouth on mine, his tongue sweeping past my lips to tangle with mine in kisses that had left me weak-kneed and breathless. I’d blamed all that quite happily on Wills’ spell then, but something tells me I’d have the same reaction if he kissed me right now and I wouldn’t have the wacky witchcraft to blame it on this time.

The left corner of his mouth kicks up a bit further, giving him an even more deliciously wicked look, as I continue to stare and the tongue I’m remembering so vividly darts out to skim slowly over his lips before poking suggestively at that elevated corner. I suddenly feel that my own lips are far too dry and find myself mimicking his gesture, minus the suggestive poking, to moisten them. His eyes follow my tongue’s motions, just as mine had his, and I draw in a shuddery breath at the way his blue irises darken at the sight.

For a moment we just stare at each other then he begins to rise from the bed and I stand there, trying to identify exactly what shade of blue his eyes were as desire deepened their hue. I’m so preoccupied with that trivial pursuit that I fail to register that he’s now standing in front of me rather than sitting, causing my head to tip back without my consciously being aware of it so that I can continue to study his irises.

Some part of my brain notices that the smirk has faded from his lips as he looks at me with a bit of hesitance entering his expression, but all I really notice is that if you look really close you can see flecks of gold and amber in his gleaming eyes. Then his hands lightly touch my arms just above the elbow and, with a slightly dazed blink, I abruptly stop with my contemplation to listen to the warring factions inside my head.

The voice of reason I’ve not been listening to much at all today is screaming that Spike is touching me in an overly familiar manner which I should not encourage in any way, shape or form because he’s Spike with the whole being a vampire and having a massively obsessive crush on me thing. The wicked voice of God knows what that I’ve been obeying thus far, along with my body’s urges, is cheering wildly and doing a victory dance at the fact that Spike is touching me in an arousing and almost sexual nature and looking very much like he intends to kiss me.

While I’m trying to get my brain to figure out something to tell my body to do the hands on my arms become more sure that they won’t be swatted away and they curl around my biceps and slide upward until they encounter the barrier of my shirtsleeves. Not at all discouraged by that obstacle those strong hands begin exerting a slight bit of force to pull me closer to him as he leans forward to press our chests together. Through the thin material of the blouse between our skin my hard nipples harden even further and begin to tingle deliciously at their contact with his firm pecs.

My brain apparently makes a decision and I find my breath slowly to a halt as my suddenly heavy eyelids drift downward and my lips fall open in anticipation of meeting his. I don’t close my eyes, though, as he lowers his head and neither does he. I see in his gaze a question as his mouth hovers near mine, but doesn’t go that last fraction of an inch to actually kiss me.

Do you want this? Are you sure?

Those indescribably blue eyes seem to inquire and I honest to God don’t know, but my body seems to have just the answer he needs. My hands rise from where they’d just been dangling uselessly at my sides to lightly touch his bare hips. Part of me wants them to move downward and grab onto his butt like I’d imagined doing as I lightly touched it before he awoke, but, with an apparent mind of their own, they drift upward, skimming along his sides, tickling his ribs them moving around to his chest. As my palms linger there for a second that rational part of my brain chirps up again, telling me to push him away, but instead of obeying my hands finish their northern migration and come to a rest on his shoulders, fingers curling over the flesh and bone there to urge him to move that last little bit.

My insides seem to freeze then flip over when his lips finally brush mine. It’s a fleeting, still hesitant, caress the likes of which I never would have expected from him and it makes my hands grip him tighter to keep me upright on my suddenly unsteady legs. He dips down again, allowing more contact this time, but still all too brief for my liking. A moan of unknown origins or purpose escapes me and on the third touch his mouth lingers.

I marvel at the feel of it, as if experiencing it all for the very first time. There’s a softness to his lips and the way they’re moving over mine that sends my eyelids fluttering the rest of the way down as I just want to feel this.

I quickly begin actively participating rather than just enjoying his actions, angling my head to the side a bit more and opening my mouth for deeper contact. Rather than instantly thrusting his tongue inside as I was inviting he surprises me again by laying a series of open mouthed kisses on me that had my toes curling till they almost cramped in the black leather boots I was wearing.

After a few moments of that I finally feel his tongue slip over and past my lips and I eagerly meet it with mine. I can tell he wants to continue taking this slow from the way he begins exploring the points of my teeth, but I’ve had just about as much of that as I can take. All I can feel or smell or taste or think of is him and this and us and it all has my body shaking with the need to be taken, so I thrust my tongue urgently against his as my hands move up into his hair to keep him from pulling away.

Apparently having no desire to refuse me what I want, he responds to my advance with a voracious hunger that has me moving to grind my hips into his. I feel his erection against my stomach and feel like I’ve got to have it inside me now. Like a woman possessed I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, gluing my body to his, and push with all my weight until we topple together back onto the bed then maneuver myself to straddle his thighs, all without breaking our intoxicating kiss.

Unwilling to give up my connection with his mouth I move a hand downward to hike my skirt up around my waist so I could settle myself over his length and rock hips against him for a moment to ease some of the ache between my legs. That’s far from enough to satisfy me so I raise up a bit to pull the saturated crotch of my bikini briefs to the side then wriggle around attempting to get the tip of his cock inside me without using the hand that was needed to keep the panties from blocking his entrance.

A frustrated sound escapes my throat at my lack of success before I suddenly feel the damned things torn from my body. I pull back with a surprised gasp at the draft of cold air hitting my now fully exposed privates and look down at Spike while I draw air into my lungs that I wasn’t consciously aware of needing.

"You ripped my panties off," I pant out that statement of the obvious as the fact sinks in.

"So I did," he says, looking a bit surprised and sheepish at the realization himself.

Almost as one we both turn to look at the torn underwear still clutched in his right hand.

"I liked those," I pout, momentarily distracted by the sight of the ruined black satin garment.

"Um … sorry?" he holds the panties up, stares at them a second then tosses them aside and moves his hand to my back before rolling out bodies toward the head of the bed until he was laying on top of me. "Buy you a new pair," he promises before dipping down to press his mouth to my neck.

The second his lips touch the rapidly beating pulse just under my jawline all thoughts of underwear vanish from my head as I tip it to the side to grant him complete access to the left side of my throat. He nudges my legs apart and settles into the opening, pressing his length against my slit but making no move to enter me, as he accepts my invitation and moves his mouth down my neck, licking, kissing, sucking and nipping his way down the column of flesh.

When he continues his downward journey only to encounter the shirt I’m wearing a low rumbling growl escapes him and for a second I fear the garment will meet the same fate as my underwear. I can tell he seriously thought about tearing it off, but his common sense must be working better than mine because he didn’t. Instead he shifts to a kneeling position between my legs and takes hold of my waist with both hands to pull me up a bit then uses one hand to yank the V-necked blouse up over my head rather than unbuttoning it.

My arms remain extended above my head, seemingly frozen there, even after he removes the garment from them. I feel his gaze grow even hotter and watch his irises become an even deeper shade of blue as he looks at me in that somewhat submissive pose, the extension of my limbs thrusting my now bare breasts toward him.

The hand holding me up from the mattress tightens on my waist as he tosses the shirt he holds in the other one aside and moves to touch me with the freed hand. I hold my breath as I watch his fingers approach my skin, almost like it’s happening in slow motion, then release it in a rush when he brushes over my left nipple. When he repeats the too light caress on my right breast I moan and arch my back to push more of my chest into contact with his hand.

"Spike," I break the silence that had been surrounding us to whimper as he counters my move by pulling back as much as I pushed forward so that the touches remained airy and fleeting.

"Are you real?" he asks huskily, raising his eyes from my body to look deeply into mine.

Awe, disbelief, desire, hesitance, worship, love and so many other emotions are in those vibrant blue depths that I can’t speak for the lump suddenly present in my throat. Unable to find words to answer him I move my arms to wrap them around his neck, shift to a partially sitting position, press my body against his and bury my face in the hollow of his throat. The whole mood of the situation changes when he wraps his arms around my waist and he presses his lips to the top of my head, becoming more than just a loss of control or surrendering to lust, but I refuse to explore what that more might be.

For I don’t know how long we just stay like that, just … holding each other and I marvel at the peace I feel in the embrace. Dawn’s teenage rebellion, Willow overuse of magic, my whole financial situation that’s only temporarily fixed with Giles’ help and all that I’ve been dealing with since being brought back is still there in the back of my mind, but it’s not all jumbling together and overwhelming like it usually does. The ‘Spike issues’ I’ve had, constantly questioning his motives and my reactions to him since coming back, are vanquished by the moment, motives no longer seeming important.

Then his hands begin stroking over my back, reminding us both of our states of undress and the mood again becomes heavy with sexual want and need. His fingers move to take down my hair then tangle themselves in the long blonde locks to tilt my head backward.

"Is this what you came here for?" he asks, looking so deeply into my eyes that I think he must be able to see my soul and every though.

As the question sinks in part of me remembers the little black bag laying on the floor at the bottom of the bed, but I know now that the collar had only been an excuse. An excuse that, given my current situation, lacked any credibility.

"Yes," I confess quietly, accepting it to be the truth.

I’d known with each meeting this became more and more inevitable. And with each run in I wanted it more and more. Subconsciously I’d known that this is how we’d end up, despite all my earlier inner protestations to the contrary.

His mouth touches down on mine again, scattering those thoughts before I can dwell on them, in another of those amazingly soft kisses. I get lost in the sensations sparked by his lips feathering over mine as he presses me back on the mattress and lays atop me. The feel of his cool chest against my overheated flesh causes me to gasp and arch upward to increase the contact.

"Don’t," I order softly when he suddenly pulls away, evading the hands I try to drag him back with.

He shushes me with a secretive curling of his lips as he returns to a kneeling position. While I’m pondering the meaning of that smile he unexpectedly takes hold of my right leg and lifts it up to rest against his chest. The action causes me to blink in surprise until his fingers locate the zipper tab on the calf boot I’m wearing and begins to lower it, making his intentions clear. He arches his scarred eyebrow and gives me a look that seems to say "what exactly did you think I was doing" then removes the shoe and sock underneath it before tossing them aside. I roll my eyes at him, trying to pretend like I wasn’t thinking he was about to get me all twisted into one of those positions I’d seen on video covers in that adult novelty shop, but his smirk tells me he has a pretty good idea what I was thinking. With a casual air, like he did this kind of thing every day, he places the leg back on the bed then picks the left one up to remove the other boot.

After baring this foot he doesn’t immediately lower my leg as he did before. Instead he runs his hands over my calf, alternately massaging the muscle and just stroking the neatly waxed skin, relaxing and arousing at the same time. My eyelids grow heavy as I watch his ministrations and with a breathy moan of delight I allow them to close.

"Ow!" I snap them open again an instant later when my ankle is suddenly bitten.

It didn’t hurt and obviously wasn’t meant to since his chip didn’t shock him for it, but still I pout at the nip. He rolls his eyes at me like I’m the one being all immature when he’s resorting to ankle biting for attention like some child then moves to lavish kisses on the spot until my pout’s all gone. The second my eyelids begin to flutter with thoughts of closing again he runs his tongue over the sole of my foot, finding one of two places I was very ticklish and quickly exploiting it when the lick makes me squirm and bit my lip to stifle a very un-Slayer-like giggle.

He wraps one hand firmly around my ankle to keep me from pulling away as the fingers of his other hand brush lightly over the sensitive skin.

"Don’t," I stiffen my whole body in an effort not to react and order him in a very no-nonsense ‘I will so dust you if you disobey me’ tone of voice.

He recognizes the tone, has to I’ve used it with him often enough, gives me a challenging smirk and arch of that mysteriously scarred eyebrow then very deliberately repeats the touch.

"Spike," I warn with my toes curling to the point of near pain as I try to combat the tickling sensations that make me want to squirm and laugh.

"Not ticklish, are you, pet?"

The expression on his face dares me to deny the weakness and receive more tickles to prove the lie or to admit it and very likely receive more tickles to confirm the admission. Seeing it as a total no win situation I glare at him promising retribution and grab onto the sheet beneath me to brace myself for the onslaught.

It comes just as I knew it would. He instantly goes from feather light touches to merciless tickling and I kick him with my free foot to try and make him stop before I lose control and laugh. Quick as can be he grabs hold of that ankle, trapping my legs against his chest with his arm, and begins tickling the soles of both feet until I shriek his name and start giggling uncontrollably.

I struggle futilely to break his hold, writhing about and beating my fists on the mattress as my body convulses with the laughs his touch wrings from me. The sound of that laughter, so genuine and carefree, floods my ears and I realize that I’m really enjoying this.

Just as the realization sinks in he stops and slowly lowers my legs. Still shaking with the occasional giggle and my pants for breath I open eyes I didn’t remember shutting and focus curiously on him as he moves over me again.

"You should do that more often," he whispers while brushing strands of hair back from my face.

"Do what?" I ask, not really following his train of thought as I’m rather busy staring into his eyes – cerulean, that’s the shade they were right now.

"Laugh," he tangles his fingers in the locks he’s playing with and runs his gaze over my face as if committing everything about it in this moment to memory. "You glow," he bends to rub his nose against mine as his mouth hovers just a breath above the lips I’ve parted to draw in breaths my lungs no longer seemed to want. "Beautiful," he declares softly before kissing me.

I feel it, beautiful, as his mouth worships mine, sipping at my lips as if they offered the sweetest, most addictive of nectars to him. I also feel his erection settling again between my legs and his fingers brushing over my face and hair and shoulders as he continues to kiss me.

I’m on the verge of having sex with Spike and I respond enthusiastically to his kisses even as I wait for that voice of reason to chirp up again, telling me this is wrong and I have to get out now before it goes all the way.

But it doesn’t.

The only voice I hear inside myself in this moment is the one that corrects me, pointing out that what Spike was doing to me could only be called making love and calling this sex was the only wrong thing.

As I realize that I open my eyes and find him watching me. His mouth lifts from mine and I can’t help but whimper at it’s loss.

"Last chance," he offers me a final opportunity to leave and I can see in his eyes that he really will let me go if I want to, despite how far we’ve gone.

In response I move my hands to push lightly at his shoulders. A light seems to go out in his gaze, as if that simple gesture has crushed some hope within him, and he goes to move off my body. My fingers instantly curl and dig into his flesh to still that motion, causing him to look down at me with confusion wrinkling his forehead as he clearly has no idea what I want. Looking into his eyes I remove one hand from his shoulders and run it down his torso until it touches his erection. The feel of his velvety skin covering the rock hard length makes my fingertips tingle and I allow myself to be distracted for a moment as they explore his shaft.

"Buffy," his body tenses in reaction to the curious touch and the warning tone in his voice reminds me of what my hand was supposed to be doing.

I part my legs further, spreading myself open for him, take his cock in hand and guide it to my pussy. The fat, knobby head presses into the opening, stretching muscles that hadn’t been used in what felt like forever and had never taken such girth. A shudder runs through his body and I wonder if how this feels to him as he slowly makes his way further into my wet heat, patiently giving me time to adjust and relax in acceptance of each inch.

My hand goes back to his shoulder and I use both hands to pull him closer as my eyes fall shut and my mouth open at the sensations sparked by gradual his penetration. He obeys my silent command, lowering his chest again to rub against mine, creating a friction on my nipples that makes me gasp and arch upward for more. That upward thrust of my body sends the last of his length into my core, suddenly filling me to capacity in a way that makes my toes curl and muscles clench.

"Christ," he growls above me, hands fisting in my hair as his body freezes embedded deep within mine, "much of that, luv, and I’ll not last."

"Sorry," I apologize automatically for my reaction and force my muscles to relax then get to feeling all kinds of wicked at the knowledge that I had him so close so fast. "Much of this?" I ask for confirmation, looking up at him in wide eyed innocence while deliberately bringing the walls of my channel in on his length.

"Minx," he groans, smiling reluctantly at my playful question. "Hurt?" he asks with a frown of concern when he begins moving inside me and I gasp in response.

"No," I answer with a shake of my head, rolling my hips toward his and sliding my hands over his back. "More," I encourage as a tingling warmth begins to spread throughout my system from where our bodies are joined.

Our eyes lock as he begins a slow, steady rhythm of withdrawing then sliding back into me. I can see in the depths of his gaze a lingering doubt that this is really happening, a certainty that he’s still sleeping and I’m not really here like this, and it touches a chord deep inside me. I move a hand from his back to stroke and cup the side of his face as I lift my head up to lightly press my lips to his. It starts as a gentle, almost loving kiss with their mouths closed and moving slowly over each other.

Then he shifts the angle of his thrusts just a hair, managing to touch something in me that parts my lips on a gasp of pleasure and he slides his tongue into the opening. The kiss quickly intensifies from there, becoming an imitation of how our bodies are joined below, and I find myself clutching at him. My hand at his back curls into the muscles there as they flex and quiver with the movements of his body while my other hand slips up into his hair.

I close my eyes with a moan, surrendering myself to what I can’t believe I’m feeling. His mouth I hungry against mine, but not rough and devouring like I had secretly imagined it would be at a moment like this. His hands remain tangled in the long locks of my hair rather than groping and fondling. His cock is moving faster inside me, creating a friction that had my thighs gripping his hips tighter and tighter with each thrust, but he isn’t pounding into me and just taking his pleasure like I thought he would.

Like Angel and Riley and even Parker before him, he’s treating me gently. Like a lady.

Part of me relishes it, luxuriating in the rhythm with which our flesh is connecting, but another part wants more. Wants his lips to savage mine, leaving the soft folds swollen and bruised. Wants his fingers to rove urgently over my body, leaving vivid impressions wherever he grabs at me. Wants his shaft to stab into me, leaving an imprint deep inside me of what it feels like to be taken by him.

With each passing moment those wants become needs until I’m taking action to get them. My mouth grows harder against his, twisting and grinding while my tongue duels passionately with his. I begin moving my hands over every inch of him I can reach, scratching and clutching at his flesh to cut and mark it with my touch. I’m tempted to roll us over and take control of our joining, but I like the feel of his weight on me too much right now so I settle for bucking my hips up hard to meet his every inward thrust and tightening my legs around him in a vise that would break the bones of a normal man to pull him back when he withdraws.

He unexpectedly tears his mouth from mine and my eyelids flutter open to look at him, blinking in surprise when I see that his lower lip is bleeding. Realizing that I had bitten him I lick my lips and taste the rusty tang of blood there while he lifts a hand from my hair to wipe the fingers across the cut. We both stare at the red smear on his pale skin for a moment then he growls and swoops down again.

The savagery I’d wanted was there this time and I welcomed it. Returned it enthusiastically. I felt my own lip tear upon contact with his blunt teeth, but I didn’t care about it except that the metallic taste of the blood in our mouths made both of us even hungrier. As our lips began to practically battle each other his hands began roughly exploring my chest. A wild sound of pleasure goes from my mouth into his as he squeezes my breasts and pinches my nipples. At the noise he squeezes and pinches harder until the sensation nears pain, then he eases off drags his thumbs over the hard nubs as he kneads the mounds with his palms. All the while the pace of his thrusts is increasing until he’s going so hard and fast and deep inside me I close my eyes and begin to see stars.

Feeling like I can’t breathe I break our kiss and twist my face to the side to try drawing air into my lungs. I forget all about oxygen, though, when his mouth latches onto the expanse of neck exposed by the angling of my head and he begins suckling and nipping at the skin with his harmless human teeth. Then he moves a hand from my breast to worm its way between our slapping groins and search out my clit and I forget all about any and every thing beyond the mind-blowing orgasm that was suddenly roaring through me. I’m vaguely aware of screaming his name and clawing at his back as my body arches and seizes beneath his, but all that matters is that I’m finally really feeling something and that makes the release all the sweeter as it washes over me and takes me under.





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