Now, he was there, and still he wasn’t sure if he was going to go in. And furthermore, where was “in?” She hadn’t given him a room number, and he didn’t see her anywhere.
Maybe she’d been the one to stand him up…
Then, he noticed motion from the corner of his eye and turned to see a door open and her step out, keeping to the shadows of the room, even as she turned towards him. She looked smaller than he remembered somehow, as if she’d drawn into herself.
Spike wiped his palms on his jeans, this whole thing striking him as more than a little absurd. A man and a woman walked past his line of sight on the way to their own motel room, him in a business suit and her in a tight outfit that made her profession more than apparent. Was that what Buffy wanted out of him? And if so, why? She’d made it clear to him once that he wasn’t good enough for her.
He got out of the car, locking it up before he swaggered towards her, trying to make himself look cockier than he actually felt.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Buffy said when he was standing in front of her.
Spike tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Neither was I.”
After several beats of awkward silence, Buffy cleared her throat and stepped aside, clearing the doorway. “Are you going to come in?”
He hesitated for a moment, remembering his plan to show up here only to tell her he didn’t want anything to do with her. But that would probably be easier inside the room. He wasn’t really in the mood to make a scene.
He followed her into the motel room, swallowing as she locked the door. However, he quickly fell back into his swagger, not allowing any of his nervousness to show, not to her. He couldn’t give her anything to exploit.
As soon as she turned to look at him again, Spike advanced on her, his jaw clinched and his nostrils flaring. “What is it you want from me, Buffy?” he demanded as she skittered backwards against the door, her eyes wide.
“I…I…” She tried to respond, but realized even she wasn’t sure of the answer.
Spike slammed his open hands on either side of her, jarring Buffy as the door trembled. “Answer me, dammit!”
“I don’t know!” Buffy yelled in reply, trying not to shrink away from him. She did too much of that these days…
He pulled back, throwing his arms up before he began to pace in front of her, reminding Buffy of an angry, caged panther. “Oh, you don’t know. You don’t bloody know. You call me over here, fuck with my life again, and you don’t know.”
“I don’t…” Buffy stopped, breathed in deeply as she brought her arms up and wrapped them around her chest. “I just want to feel something,” she admitted softly. “I went numb, didn’t feel for so long, and then you came back, and I…” Her last words came out barely above a whisper. “I feel something when you’re inside me, William.”
He stopped short at that and turned, anger warring with desire inside of him. He hated her. He loved her.
He wanted her.
“Go, Buffy,” he said, his voice tight. He knew now, looking at her, that coming here had been a mistake. He was too drawn to her, the pull of her body too much for him to fight it the way he’d planned. She needed to be the one to leave, the one to turn and run before he lost control. He’d felt something inside of her, too. “Just get out of here. We can’t do this.”
“Liam won’t know. He had to go to San Diego today for business. He won’t be back until late—if he comes back today at all.”
“That’s not what I…” Spike shook his head. “He isn’t why I want you to go.”
Buffy looked down, studying her hands for a moment. “I know.”
“Just go, Buffy.”
“No.”
Spike sighed heavily. Only a few minutes with this woman, and already she had his head spinning. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted, his voice almost breaking.
She looked back up, her eyes shining with the tears she was trying not to let fall. “I just want you to touch me. Please. You can make me forget, even if it’s only for a little while.”
He shook his head, still trying to fight a losing battle. “Why me, Buffy? Can’t you find someone else to give you this?”
“There is no one else, William. There’s only you.” Buffy took a deep breath to steady herself, then walked to him and placed her hands against his chest, feeling his heart beneath the surface as it thudded rapidly.
“Buffy, we can’t keep doing this…” Spike protested, even as he moved closer to her, his hips angling themselves towards hers.
She knew he was right. She was telling herself the same thing, even as her hands moved down, caressing his hard, muscled chest beneath his shirt. A list of the reasons why this thing between them was wrong would rival War and Peace in length, but at the moment, when she was with him—touching him—the single reason why seemed to outweigh everything else.
She needed him.
“One more time,” she breathed, pleading. “Touch me one more time, and I’ll let you go.”
He didn’t know how it had gotten to this point. Spike had been convinced that he was coming here to tell her he wanted nothing to do with her, but he hadn’t taken into account how easy it was to get trapped in her wide, green eyes.
“One more time,” he echoed as he moved in, his lips drawn to hers.
His mouth still locked with hers, Spike wrapped his arms around waist and lifted her up, swinging her over so they could both tumble onto the bed. Once there, Spike trailed his hands down to reach under Buffy’s skirt, noticing that she hadn’t even bothered to wear her panties. She’d come prepared for this, her intentions clearly not anything but sex.
It was all she wanted from him, and Spike couldn’t seem to stop himself from giving it to her.
Spike pushed his index finger inside of her, eliciting a gasp from Buffy. She writhed against him, moaning low when he added a second finger and began to rub circles against her clit with his thumb. Her eyes were closed tight and her own hands had dropped to her sides, clenched in tight fists. Spike didn’t want to care—wished he hadn’t even noticed—but it still stung to realize that despite her recent claims that it had to be him and him alone, Buffy was reluctant to even look at him. It drove home the point to him that he was servicing her, nothing more.
He supposed that also meant he’d grown capable of pleasing her since their first time together, yet that victory was bittersweet at best.
One hand still pleasuring her, Spike pulled up on his knees and used his other hand to free himself from his tight jeans. He leaned down again and pushed forward mechanically, trying to concentrate on the act rather than the feelings the woman beneath him evoked in him.
Yet as soon as he’d pushed the tip in, Buffy’s eyes opened, and she reached up to still him with a hand on his chest. “Spike…wait.”
He blinked and frowned in confusion. Wasn’t this what she wanted? “Pet?”
She blushed slightly, the action seeming out of place as she lay on the dirty motel bed with her skirt around her hips and an inch of his cock inside of her. “Every time we’ve done this, you’ve had your clothes on,” she said, her eyes darting downwards. “Maybe this time I could see you?”
Her request took him completely by surprise. He’d thought he’d known what was going in her mind, what sort of tryst she wanted, but now he was wondering if maybe he’d been wrong.
But what else could this be?
He rose up shakily and started undressing, watching from the corner of his eye as Buffy did the same.
The bed creaked as Spike climbed back on the bed, covering Buffy’s body again as she lay down, opening her legs so he could settle between them. She was looking at him now, her eyes trailing down to take him in. Her hands came up, trailing from the bottom of his chest to his shoulders, where she gripped him tightly.
Spike looked down at her, realizing this was the first time he’d really gotten the chance to see her as well. She’d stripped off her clothes their first time, but he hadn’t really been able to take her in then. However, now she was nude and stretched out beneath him, his to explore, to taste.
She’d called him here, she wanted to use him for her own release, but Spike made up his mind right then that if he was going to give her what she’d asked for, then it was going to be on his terms.
He took her hands off his shoulders and raised them up, pinning them above her head, her arms stretched taut. When he took his hands away from hers, Buffy started to lower her arms, but Spike stopped her with a look. “Keep them there, or I stop.”
Her breath hitched, but she kept her hands in place, her body on display for the man above her. Spike pulled back up to his knees, watching her through dark eyes as his hard, thick cock jutted proudly from his body.
In that moment, he realized he had to quit running from the truth, quit making excuses. He’d come here because he wanted this as much as she did. While he resented being used, it didn’t change the fact that this woman made him burn like no other, not even Drusilla.
He wanted this. He wanted her.
Spike skimmed his hands down her skin, goosebumps rising on her flesh in the wake. Her nipples were puckered, pointing up to him and begging him to taste. He didn’t resist. Instead, he leaned back in and sucked one into his mouth hard, scraping the sensitive bud with his teeth as he did.
Buffy’s cry of surprise turned into a low moan of pleasure and her hands clenched then opened, desperate to run her fingers through his bleached curls. When he switched to the other side and sucked her second nipple into his mouth, her hands came down, gripping his hair. Spike growled against her breast before grabbing her hands and wrenching back up, this time holding her in place.
He pulled up, expression and eyes dark. “If you want this, then it’s going to be on my terms. Got that, pet?” Buffy swallowed hard then nodded, stilling her hands under his. “Good girl,” Spike said roughly before he returned to her breasts, alternating between laving the nipples with his tongue and biting at the firm mounds.
Beneath him, Buffy whimpered, her hips twisting with desperate need as she struggled to keep her hands where he’d placed them. His cock throbbed against her inner thigh, and finally Spike had enough of the teasing. He knew she was wet, and he was ready to take what he wanted.
Spike lifted her legs, bending them up towards her head and moving her hands to now hold on to her ankles. She was spread completely open for him now, vulnerable to his every whim, and Buffy felt the muscles in her stomach contract.
This was what she’d wanted when she’d asked him to come here. She wanted him to take control, to take away the need for her to do anything but feel, succumb. One touch from Spike, and she lost herself in sensation, her worries seeming to disappear under pleasure too intense for her to think about anything else.
And when he was inside of her… She’d never felt anything like that before.
Buffy trembled, needing him like she’d never needed anything in her life. In these moments, when he was so close, breath and bodies mingling, she didn’t question that need. When he was there, when he touched her, it made sense.
“William…” she begged, the word coming out as a breathless pant. “Will, please.”
He knelt at the apex of her wide-spread legs and reached up to take her chin in his hand, making her look into his dark, haunted eyes. “It’s Spike. William’s gone.”
She knew otherwise. She saw flashes of him behind the wall he’d built, saw the kind, timid young man she’d fallen for over the summer. But there was no reason to argue the point now, so she simply held his gaze and told him what he wanted to hear. “Spike…”
Satisfied, he dropped his hand and moved forward, pushing into her body.
The movement of their bodies was harsh, primitive, their moans guttural. The setting and the circumstance didn’t allow for gentle touches or soft words, yet their eyes remained locked, even as they cried out in shared release.
A lot of people have argued that Buffy should just go to a shelter. While that probably would be a smart move, it is often a move that is not made in real life, and one that I do not believe fits this story. Buffy has reasons for staying, some that I’ve already discussed and some that I haven’t. While I agree that it would be the best decision for her to leave Liam, people don’t always do what’s truly in their best interest. I am well aware of the fact that women’s shelters exist and that Buffy could seek outside intervention. But that is not the route I have chosen to take with this story.
Please review.