Ohh! This story was selected as the Featured Fic at Buffy and Spike Central. Heehee!!! ***giddy***
She was in pain.
He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew that she was in pain. The second his jealousy evaporated, the second he knew that she was no longer being touched by another man, his insides had been engulfed in agony. Agony that he knew, somehow, didn’t belong wholly to him. Buffy was hurting. And since the past few days hadn’t provided shining examples of his aptitude, it didn’t take much to convince him to go to her. He wouldn’t sleep well until he saw her again.
So it came as little surprise when Spike found himself under her window. He’d arrived just seconds after she’d bolted up the tree and shut herself in her room. He’d waited through her nighttime routine, and now the lights were off. The lights had been off for a while.
He’d be lucky if she didn’t toss him out her window, but he had to know that she was all right.
And his raging demon needed to know that she was alone.
Spike drew in a deep breath and made short work of climbing up the tree. When he finally peered inside her room, a pang struck his heart, his breath catching in his throat. She was laying on her side, naked, her back to him. And she was crying. The small trembles that racked her body were practically indiscernible, as were her muffed sobs, but he heard and saw everything.
She was hurting, and he was the reason. And perhaps turning away was the right answer, but Spike didn’t pride himself on his forethought. He knew he couldn’t walk away without trying.
He rapped lightly on her window, then louder when she didn’t turn over or act like she’d heard him. Buffy remained on the bed, wrapped in her blankets, crying.
Bugger this. There was no time to wait. Spike pushed the window open and climbed into the room, not even bothering to stop and observe the fact that she had yet to revoke his invitation to her home. He quickly shed his duster and drew his tee over his head, hesitated, then turned his hands to his jeans. He was sure to make as much noise as possible, and from the way her sobs quieted, he was satisfied that she knew he was there.
Satisfied enough to approach her, lift the covers, and slide into bed behind her.
“Buffy?”
She shook her head and didn’t look at him.
Spike sighed and ran a hand down her arm, relishing her warmth. Relishing the way she trembled under his touch. He inhaled sharply, lowering his mouth to her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, accentuating each word with a kiss against her skin. “I didn’t mean a word of it, Buffy. I really didn’t.”
She shivered. “I didn’t mean to mess up your life, Spike.”
“You didn’t, baby.” I messed up yours. “You didn’t.”
“You were so angry earlier.”
“I know.” His hand slid down her body slowly, slipping beneath the covers to caress her skin. “Something bad’s got a handle on me, Slayer. Every time I think I got control over myself, I do somethin’ to bollocks myself up. An’ you…I’m feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling, an’ I don’t know what I want anymore.”
She was quiet for a long minute. “I’m sick,” she said softly.
Spike frowned. “Huh?”
“I think I’m sick, and it’s getting worse.”
“You’re not sick.”
“Every part of me hurts.” Buffy shivered and moaned, parting her thighs for him when his fingers urged her legs apart. “Spike…what are you doing?”
“Do you hurt right now?” he asked softly, his hand cupping her pussy, his mouth peppering her skin with sweet kisses. “Does this make you hurt?”
A long whimper tore through her throat and she shook her head. “I don’t hurt when you’re with me,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean…Spike…we can’t…oooh!”
Spike smiled against her shoulder, sliding two fingers inside her, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing her gently. “Don’ think right now,” he murmured. “I just wanna make you feel good.”
“Uhhh…you do?”
“I can make the hurt stop, yeah?” His grin widened when she gasped and arched her back against him, twisting just slightly so that she could hook an arm around his neck and giving him access to those sweet little tits of hers. Spike’s lips dipped immediately, closing over a mouthful of Buffy breast. “I’ll make the hurt stop,” he mumbled, sucking intently on her ruby nipple. “I’ll make it all stop.”
“But…what I said…”
“I know what you said.” Spike looked up and caught her eyes. “I won’t do anything you don’t want, Slayer,” he murmured. “I want to make you feel good. I want to make you not hurt anymore.” He brushed his lips against hers, his fingers thrusting deeper inside her. He grinned when she gasped against his mouth. “Forget it all for tonight. Let me make you feel good.”
“This is only gonna make it worse,” Buffy protested. “I’m gonna wake up and it’s gonna be worse.”
“Then I’ll make it better again.”
She sighed. God, she sounded so tired. So thoroughly run down, and the implication tore at his heart. “I told you, Spike. I can’t be that girl,” she said. “You can make it sound as wonderful as you like, but it’s the same thing. I want you…but I can’t keep doing this if you’re gonna turn me into that girl.”
“The rebound girl, you mean?” He flicked his tongue over her nipple, gently easing his fingers out of her body. “Stretch your leg over my thigh.”
Buffy looked uncertain, but did as he asked. In a blink, he had his hand wrapped around his cock and was teasing her sopping folds with his velvety head. “You’re not my rebound girl, Slayer,” he whispered, kissing the swell of her breast. “I honestly don’t know what you are.”
“Spike, please.”
The hurt was gone. Being near her, having her body pressed to his, her eyes soaking him in, had chased the hurt away. Spike shivered. He needed her so much, and he didn’t know why. And truthfully, right now, it didn’t seem to matter. He could worry about what it meant for him tomorrow. Now he would try his hand at being the sort of man she deserved. The sort of man who eased her pain. The sort of man who was there for her when she needed it.
“I can’t keep doing this,” Buffy murmured again, her eyes misting with tears. “I can’t.”
“I know.” Spike brushed a kiss across her cheek. He’d never thought he could share tenderness with a woman who wasn’t Dru, but feeling Buffy against him made his demon want to banish every intimate memory that he’d captured with a woman that wasn’t his slayer. “Is this gonna make it worse?” he asked. “If I shag you, will it make it worse? The hurt, I mean.”
She was quiet for a long minute and swallowed hard. “I don’t think it can get worse,” she said.
Me, neither.
“I want you.” Spike curled his arms around her, the head of his cock slipping inside her hot sheath, and he hissed his pleasure against her neck. “I want you so much.”
“Ohhh…”
“I’ll make it better.” His arms tightened around her and he fought off a contented purr. “One more time. Let me chase your hurt away.”
Buffy mewled and nodded, and he sank balls-deep into her pussy. And the world around him dissolved in bliss. Spike growled and pressed his mouth to her shoulder, crushing her so tightly to his chest that he practically swallowed her. It just kept getting better. Their first time had been explosive. Their night in the crypt had rocked his foundations. But this? There was simply no comparison to this. To holding her in her girlish room filled with slayer things while drenched in her heavenly scent. To holding her in the place she called home, rather than somewhere where the world could at times feel false.
“Flatten your back against me, luv,” he murmured.
“I won’t be able to see you.”
He kissed her lips and grinned. “You’ll feel me, baby. That’s what matters.”
The look in her eyes was reluctant and uncertain, and though his body was screaming for her compliance, his heart warmed at the knowledge that she wanted to see his face while he was inside her. That she wasn’t trying to ignore him and pretend the pleasure he gave her came from someone else.
He sucked in a deep breath when she finally turned, when her back was fully pressed to his chest. Spike kissed her shoulder again, his right hand finding her hand where it rested against her abdomen, and he laced his fingers through hers.
“Close your eyes, pet,” he murmured, suckling at her throat. God, she tasted sweet, and while the hum of her pulse taunted his fangs, he was both pleased and surprised when they failed to descend. He began moving slowly, peppering her skin with kisses as he fought back a predatory growl. Her silken walls were driving him mad. God, she molded around him like no one else ever had. Like she was made for him.
Like she was his.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he murmured into her hair, cupping a breast. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”
“Really?” she asked, and Christ, she started flexing her vaginal muscles around him, and he about lost it. “I’ve never…this is a new thing for me…”
“From behind, you mean?”
Buffy nodded miserably.
Spike grinned and squeezed her hand, increasing his pace so that his balls slapped against her with every thrust. While his body was screaming to pound her into the mattress, the years with his crazed sire had not permitted gentle loving behind closed doors. He’d wanted to experience this with someone for so long, and she was arching and moaning against him, each drive into her pussy earning a sharp gasp, as though he touched something new every time.
“Good,” he purred into her ear. “I love hearing that I’ve given you so many firsts.” His fingers abandoned her breast with one last teasing pull to her nipple, sliding slowly down her abdomen. “I love knowing that no one’s ever eaten you out before—”
“You can’t remember that,” she teased.
God, he loved it when she teased.
“An’ I really think…you oughta give me another shot to make it memorable,” he purred, capturing her clit between his thumb and forefinger.
She moaned. “It was plenty memorable,” she countered, thrusting her ass back against him and spreading her legs wider. “Ohhh…oh my God.”
The strain in her voice did a number on him, and he felt his own voice weaken in turn. “I meant…memorable for me…but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“You don’t…don’t remember it…so it…obviously…wasn’t memorable.”
Spike grinned and nipped at her earlobe. “You just…said it was,” he reminded her, rubbing her clit furiously. “I know ‘cause I was right here.”
“Memorable for…me,” she said, her breath hitching on another long moan. “Not…for you.”
“I assure you…if I hadn’t…been pissed outta my mind…it would’ve been… memorable for…everyone.”
Buffy moaned and pressed hard against him. “You mean you and…me…instead of…just me…right?”
“You catch on fast, kitten.”
Spike was thrusting hard into her now, the growls scratching at his throat becoming more pronounced. There was nothing about this that he didn’t love. The raw slaps their bodies made as they moved together, the whimpers and moans that tumbled through her lips, the slippery feel of her clit between his fingers, the matchless warmth of her pussy, the way her wet tightness nearly made him pop. There were so many things about this that he loved. So many things that he’d never had all at once—so many things he’d never had at all.
He wanted to bite her. He wanted to taste her blood as her pussy clenched around his cock, as his name tumbled through her lips. He wanted it so bad. He wanted it, but he didn’t dare. Not now. Biting her was something the demon wanted, and he was determined to be the man she deserved, if only for now. If only for this time he had with her before reality tumbling back.
God, he loved the sound she made when she came. The way she cried out with a twisted gasp. The way her body trembled and convulsed around him. The way her muscles clamped around his cock, the way her hand squeezed his hand. The reverent breath of air that carried his name. He loved it all.
And that was when it hit him. Right then. At the peak of her orgasm, that was when it hit him.
It would be so easy to love her. So incredibly easy.
The thought was too much. Too large. Too terrifying. He was drunk on her, and he couldn’t think. He couldn’t think right now. Spike screwed his eyes shut and came violently, jolts of ecstasy tearing through his body. He pressed his mouth to her skin to stifle his moan of completion. There was no greater solace than this. None in the world.
And when the haze settled and he opened his eyes, the thought remained.
Buffy was pressed against him, panting, and the thought remained.
He could love her.
God, if that wasn’t a kick in the balls.
To be continued…