Burying his face in her hair, he wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning like this with her.
Every morning. Every morning. Day in, and day out, not a change, the same woman, the same bed, the same everything every morning.
Okay, yeah, he could admit he wanted her, cared for her and needed her in his life, but he was not yet ready to admit anything beyond that. He was not yet ready to settle into her house and become an added fixture. He was still his own man.
You want her, you care for her, you need her…sounds a lot like love, mate, his mind argued.
It was then that Buffy stirred, moaned and then let out a breathy yawn. His cock was hard instantly.
“Mmmm,” she hummed and pulled his arms tighter around her.
Burying his face in her hair, he felt his heart expand in his chest. What kind of life could they have together? What could he offer her? He wasn’t rich; he wasn’t a gentleman, not really. She made him feel like a God, that was true, but what if she realized one day that she could do so much better than him? What if she wanted more than he could give? She deserved the world on a platter.
Abruptly, she spun his arms, giggling and smiling brightly at him. “Good morning, sunshine.”
God, she was beautiful and perfect and so many things he wasn’t. Don’t you dare fuck this up, Spike, his mind told him.
Like I have a choice, he said back. Inevitably it will happen. I will lose her.
That’s right. You keep thinking positive.
She frowned slightly and pressed the pad of her pointer finger in between his brows. “What’s wrong?” she asked, “You have the worry crease there.”
“I do huh?”
“Yeah, you do. You’re not…you don’t regret it do you?” she asked, and stiffened in his arms.
“No, luv, I’m not.” But one day you might regret me.
“Good,” she chirped and pushed him onto his back, straddling him. “I understand that morning sex is a perk of relationships.”
“You never had…?”
“No. Parker thought it was gross to do in the morning before a shower.”
“Was there anything he did like?” Spike asked, flabbergasted.
“Yeah, Gwen.”
“I might have to speak ill of the dead pet.”
Buffy giggled and flipped his hands over his head. “Can we save that for later?”
Feeling her breasts pressed against his chest, her hot core against his hard cock and soaking him already, he readily agreed with a nod of his head.
“Good,” she murmured and kissed him softly, slowly, and sweetly.
Cupping her bottom in his hands, he brought her closer, lifting her slightly.
“I want to try it,” she whispered, breaking the kiss and leaning back.
He knew what she meant, and he grinned up at her. Oh he was enjoying Parkers lack of adventure and appreciation for a real woman immensely.
"Take my cock in those hot little hands and put him inside you pet...yes, just like...oh fuck."
"That good?" she asked, as if she didn't know.
"Yes, perfect..." and placing his hands on her hips, he lifted her, guiding her into a rhythm with him. Her eyes fluttered close and she leaned forward, slightly, placing her hands on either side of his head.
Her breasts dangling before him, Spike leaned up and suckled one in his mouth, smiling when he heard her breathy moan. She was rocking on him faster, her walls were clenching him tight, and from the expression on her face, he knew she was close.
He wanted to make this last a little longer...
Spinning her on her back in a flash, he looked down at her surprised expression and grinned, rocking inside her slowly.
She clawed at him, begging him for more, and still slow he went, even resting inside her while he kissed her.
"Spike, please..."
"Tell me what you want...tell me and I'll do it," he said, sliding slowly out and then in.
"I want you to go faster and harder."
"Do you like my cock inside you, Buffy?"
Her eyes glazed over and she replied breathlessly, "Yes."
My girl likes dirty talk, he mused happily, Is there anything about her that isn't perfect for me?
"Do I make you wet?"
"Yes," she moaned.
"Do you want to cream all over my cock?"
Her eyes rolled up in her head as he started pumping her fast and hard. "Yes," she hissed.
Bending his head, he teased her nipples with his tongue, making them erect.
"Oh...Oh...Spike!" she shouted, her walls clamping down around him, trying to ring the cum out of him.
Her head arched back, and she let out a loud moan before grabbing him and kissing him hard. One, two, three thrusts later and he was cumming inside her.
Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers and gasped her name as he spilled inside her. "God, Buffy..." he murmured, "You make me cum so hard."
"That's a good thing, right?"
"Definitely."
Watching her make them breakfast, watching the way her hips swayed, the way her smile came readily every time she looked at him, the way she glowed that morning, and the way she laughed easily, Spike felt himself be swept away by her. It was so easy to. She created a world for him that he felt safe in, that he felt he wanted so desperately to be part of. She touched something deep inside him that he thought was long dead. That ‘something’ being his heart.
His mind drifted back to the night she came into his life and how effortlessly she stepped into it. She never judged him when he felt he should be judged. She took him as he was and made no excuses for him, when really; he felt he made excuses for himself all the time. Scratch that: He hadn’t put that much self-analysis into it until Buffy pointed it out to him. She’d hit the nail on the head with him. He was hurt a couple times, betrayed, and he just curled up over that bump and lay down to die. Compared to some and what they went through in their life, his was cake.
Look at all she’s been through, Spike mused as he watched her scoop scrambled eggs onto his plate. She’s had to overcome obstacles all her life, and is she bitter? Does she carry them around like a cross she should be martyred to? No. She lives with them; does what she can, and hasn’t she been telling me it’s all anyone could do?
God, he was thinking like her now. He was well and truly under it wasn’t he? She was burrowing right under his skin—screw that, she was already there! She was setting up camp inside him, taking root, holding on…
Old fears, and yes baggage, came with that feeling, that knowledge that it was happening and he was powerless to stop it because one look at her face, at her smile, and he was irrevocably lost.
And she was smiling at him right now, making him forget that he was his own man and that he had to protect himself.
“I want to be used as bait,” she blurted out unceremoniously.
He blinked, “What?”
“I want to trap the murderer by using myself as bait. If he has been watching me or knows me, then he—“
“We talked about this. I said no,” he said sternly. Jesus, he couldn’t ever let her go for the simple fact that if he did, she’d be getting herself into trouble.
“But, Spike—“
“I said no, Buffy. End of discussion.”
“You have to know, being a cop, that there is merit to the idea.”
“There might very well be a lot of fucking merit to it, but you’re not doing it.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked curiously, not even demandingly. God, how did she do that? How did she just read him like that?
“Your hair brained ideas are what’s wrong.”
“No,” she shook her head, “Something else is bothering you. You forget I can read you.”
“Well, quit it!” he shouted and shoved his plate away, stalking off. The doorbell ringing caused him to head toward the door, thinking maybe there was some news and he could focus the …he didn’t even know what to call the feeling he was having. Uncertainty? Fear? Was he just overwhelmed? Lost? What was it? And how did he stop it whilst keeping Buffy near, but not too near?
Whipping the door open, he could hear Buffy coming around the corner. Finn stood there, flowers and some kind of box in hand, looking sad and pathetic.
Memories of the night before – of the bad parts came rushing back. What happened to Buffy while she was with Finn. How she as hurt. How she faced the murderer alone.
How she could have been killed.
And that was when Spike hauled off and decked Finn.