They were barely inside the apartment before Spike was reaching for the hem of Buffy's dress and drawing it from her body. He let the silky garment slip out his fingers and onto the floor as he gazed at her beautiful form. She was golden everywhere, glowing, gleaming, sparkling under the dim light emanating from the floor lamps in various locations around the living room. The dusty pink lace of her bra and panties flowed over her feminine curves like a second skin and suddenly, he was desperate to peel them away, to see the flesh beneath them, to taste and touch every inch.
He fell to his knees in front of her and reached up to encircle her waist with his hands. "Buffy," he whispered before he laid a soft kiss on her belly.
His fingers slid down, looping over the elastic of her panties, and as he began to slowly pull on them, he looked up at her with hungry intent. She gasped as her eyes met his, her balance faltering and immediately her hands sought purchase on his broad shoulders to steady herself. Once they were free of her legs, he flung the underwear over his shoulder and reached behind her knee, tugging it upward until it was draped over his shoulder.
The delicate folds of her pussy were glistening from her arousal and before allowing himself a taste, Spike inhaled the scent of her. It was musky, rich, and completely mouthwatering. He snaked his arm around her thigh and pressed his thumb against the softness just above her clit and pushed up, revealing the flushed red button of nerves to his gaze and more importantly, his mouth. The touch of his tongue against it was just a whisper, but it made Buffy cry out and buck against him.
"Spike!"
Her legs begun to shake as he flattened his tongue against her clit and shook his head, all the while his free hand was smoothing up the length of her thigh. His fingers encountered the warm, wet crevice and without much preamble, he slid his index finger into her velvet opening. Her muscles gripped him like a hot fist and Spike's eyes crossed slightly as the sensation caused his dick to harden instantly. He added a second finger, stretching her, preparing her, because the Lord knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer, not with the need twisting in his stomach.
"C'mon, baby, come for me," he growled, doubling his efforts to bring her to climax.
And then, as if she had been waiting for his instruction all along, her muscles tensed and her head rolled back on her shoulders. A keening wail fell from her lips as a tremor overtook her body.
In a breath, he was picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and set to work on his clothes, tearing his shirt open and losing a button or two in the process, unzipping his pants and kicking them off along with his shoes and socks. His hand gripped his erection tightly and pumped the steely flesh as he kneeled on the bed. In a blink, he had a condom from the bedside table and was rolling it over his cock.
He urged himself to slow down. As desperate as he was for her, the last thing Spike wanted to do was hurt her and rushing would do just that. He moved between her thighs and dipped his head down, capturing her mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss. His tongue caressed the warm cavern of her mouth and earned him a sensual, and purely feminine, moan.
"I wanna make love to you, Buffy," he rasped. "Need you so bad."
Then he positioned his cock at her entrance and slowly, painstakingly slid into her. Her muscles were vice-tight for a fraction of a second before they loosened, allowing him to sink all...the...way...in. She screamed when the head brushed against the wall of her cervix and her back arched sharply off the bed. God, he was so fucking deep!
His hands cupped her hips as he starting thrusting, holding her steady as he rocked into her body faster and harder. She was grasping and pulling at the sheets, her eyes squeezed tightly as wave after wave of sensation flowed over her. Her pussy fluttered around his cock, milking him, urging him on and as the orgasm hit her, it sent him spiraling into his own release.
He shouted a garbled obscenity as his back went ramrod straight and he shot his seed into the safety of the latex barrier. His hips jerked until there was nothing left in him and then he collapsed onto the bed next to Buffy's shaking form, both out of breath, chests heaving from exertion.
There was nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing for several minutes and once that finally died down, silence.
"Hey."
Spike turned his head to look at her. She was staring up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression on her sweet face. "What?" he asked as he put his arms behind his head and tried to figure out what she was looking at.
"We just had sex and I still have my shoes on."
Spike couldn't help but laugh.
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Several hours later...
Her fingers walked down his chest, over his breastbone and between the ripples of abdominal muscles that lined a path to his bellybutton. The pad of her index finger traced the rim of the slight indentation before continuing its journey, slipping underneath the cool, silky sheet that covered the lower part of his body.
Buffy chanced a quick look at Spike's face as she reached the coarse curls just above his rapidly rising cock. What she saw made her flush with excitement and blush with embarrassment, though the pink stains could hardly be identified as one or the other. His eyes were closed tightly, head dipped back into the pillow, neck muscles straining and between his teeth, he had caught his lower lip. His skin was glistening in the dim light with a layer of sweat that had also turned his once slicked back white blond hair into a mass of curls. The longer she waited to move further down the more tense his body became. He fisted his hands into the sheets and arched his lower back in an urgent demand for more.
She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it. Perhaps it was insecurity or playfulness or a desire to dominate. Maybe she just liked hearing it over and over again. "Tell me," she said in a thick and sultry voice that sounded alien to her.
A sharp intake of breath made his chest expand and his stomach contract. His eyes opened to reveal lust-drunk blue; a shade so intense it rivaled the brightest cerulean and deepest indigo. He swallowed hard then let his tongue slide out to moisten his parched lips.
"I love you, Buffy," he rumbled. His hand found hers and grasped it firmly in his hot fist. "Always."
She stared at him for a long time, letting his words sink in, basking in the warmth that it created deep within her. He made her feel...complete, whole. She hadn't felt that way since her mom and Giles had died and that had been so long ago. It was like coming home again, as if the last three years hadn't even happened.
But they had happened. Her entire life had fallen apart in the time it took the police officer to say, ‘I'm sorry, Miss Summers.' And those four seconds threaded out into the fabric of time and blanketed the whole of her existence with pain and loss. The grief that should have healed long ago was still an open sore that stung with every breath of air. She had never been allowed to move past those few heart-wrenching moments. Not until now.
A single tear glided down her cheek. "I love you, too, Spike. So much."
"Buffy, luv," he began as his hand came up to caress her cheek and he wiped away the wetness with his thumb. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
The expression on his face told her that she wasn't convincing in the least. "C'mon, tell me. Five minutes ago you were grinnin' like the cat that ate the canary an' now you're crying. Don't tell me it's nothin'."
She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "This is really happening, isn't it?"
For a moment he looked confused, his dark eyebrows coming together in a point above the bridge of his straight nose then his expression softened. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and cupped her chin, turning her face to look at him.
"I'm never gonna leave you, Buffy," Spike said. "It's you an' me against the world."
"But what-"
He covered her lips with his index finger. "Shhh, none o' that. It's not gonna happen, luv. I won't let it."
Those were familiar words. Spike had said them to her more times that she could remember, but this was the first time she actually let herself believe them. It felt real now. No more fear, no more looking over her shoulder or jumping at the slightest sound. Everything would be all right, just like he promised her.
The corners of her mouth twitched until soon she was smiling so wide it took over the whole of her face. Her cheeks blossomed like rosy red apples and her eyes lit up as she looked at the man that had changed her world from dark and dismal to shining and free.
"I love you!" she exclaimed with all of the enthusiasm and emotion that was bubbling in her chest.
His eyebrow quirked over his left eye, amused at her declaration. "You do, huh? Well, it just so happens that I know exactly what t' do in this situation."
She squealed as he grabbed her around the waist and hefted her up over his body until she was straddling his hips. The thick erection that she had moments earlier been teasing poked at her bottom insistently. His hands settled on the tops of her knees and began to slide up her silky smooth skin, then grasped her hips, his thumbs resting on the V between her thighs.
"I want you t' try somethin' for me," he said thickly.
She trusted him, always trusted him, but that didn't stop the nervous tingles from shooting up and down her spine or the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn't fear that made her anxious, though, it was the anticipation of what was to come.
"Okay," she replied with a small hitch in her breath.
The smile that crossed his lips was sinful, wicked. He reached over to the nightstand and tore a little square off of the strip of condoms. "Scoot down, luv."
"Can..." The words bunched up in her throat and she looked down suddenly, slightly mortified at the thought running through her head.
He tipped her chin up with the knuckle of his index finger. "Can you what? Tell me."
It took her a moment to work up the courage to actually ask him what was on her mind. "Can I..." She motioned to the foil wrapper between his fingers. "Can I try?"
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The girl was full of bloody surprises. Just when he thought he knew what was going to come out of those sweet pink lips of hers, she went and shocked him again. She seemed embarrassed though and as quickly as he had caught her gaze it was gone again, her head dipping down in an effort to hide her face. As curious as she was, insecurity and inexperience always seemed to quell her bravery.
He was determined to get her over this tendency of shying away. Until then, however, he would just enjoy her innocent movements and timid requests for what they were: genuine and honest. They certainly weren't things he normally found in his day to day life, not with the company he kept or the places he frequented. Of course, all of that was different now.
Grasping her hand, he placed the condom in her smooth palm. "Baby, you can try anything you want. All you gotta do is ask an' it's yours," he told her.
A visible shiver ran through her body and she bit at her lower lip. Her fingers closed over the packet as she brought it inward to study it. She played with the corners of it until she mustered up the nerve to open it. Once the round latex was out, she looked up at him in bewilderment.
"What do I do with..." She swallowed hard as she waved the now empty wrapper through the air between them.
He bit back a chuckle and grabbed the leftover from her, tossing it over the side of the bed. "Tidiness is the last thing you should be worried about, kitten."
The corner of her mouth turned up in a tentative smile. A fresh flush darkened her cheeks then travelled down the creamy skin of her neck and chest. She wiggled slightly, causing him to groan out loud as her wet folds dragged across his skin.
"Sorry," she said with a giggle.
"You'll really be sorry in a minute if you don't get t' it. I'm dyin' here." It wasn't an empty threat either since he was a second away from rolling them over and taking them both for a wild ride. He could feel the heat coming off of him in waves, lust and want running like a raging river through his veins.
She swallowed again and took a large breath. "What do I do now, Spike?"
"You, uh," he started with a shaky voice, "pinch the top first."
Buffy did as he instructed, carefully pressing the latex between her fingers, before looking up at him for the next step. That look alone was almost enough to set him off, but he reined in the impulse before he could act on it.
His eyelids fluttered as he grabbed the length of his hard cock with one hand, passionate fire igniting under his skin as his own fingers caressed the flesh. "Gimme your hand, pet," Spike growled.
As he steadied his member upwards, he wrapped her hand around it and brought his now free hands to rest on her thighs. Before he could get another direction out she placed the condom onto the swollen mushroom-shaped head and gave him a triumphant grin.
"That part I knew," she told him.
"Minx," he remarked under his breath. "Roll it down now. Slowly. Keep the top between your fingers."
Slowly, he'd said. That was bloody brilliant, he thought as the firm pressure of her fingertips slowly drove him to oblivion. He'd never really considered the act of putting on a condom, even by the hands of a female companion, all that sexy. Hell, it wasn't sexy in the least, just a necessary precaution like putting on sunscreen or buckling your seatbelt. But when Buffy was at the helm he had to beg the divine powers above to save him from spontaneous combustion.
"There." She clapped her hands together as if she had just finished something completely mundane.
He shook his head. "You are such a bloody enigma."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked, her head tilted to one side quizzically.
His dark eyebrows went up before he pushed himself up far enough to wrap a strong arm around her waist and lift her body. He held her just above his pelvis for a moment as he gave her a wickedly sexual look, blue eyes narrowed, lips pursed together with a hint of a smirk.
"You tell me, luv," he replied just before lowering her onto his cock.
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It was close to one in the afternoon when they slid into a booth at Peg's Diner. The morning had been spent in the laziest fashion imaginable except for perhaps the lovemaking, which may have been slow and sweet, but certainly not lazy. They had lounged in bed until hunger and the need for a shower was overwhelming. And finally, after the longest shower in recorded history, they managed to crawl out of the blissed fog and keep food at the forefront of their priorities long enough to drive to the diner.
Suddenly, Stella was standing in front of their table with a fresh pot of coffee in hand. "Coffee, kids?" she asked.
"Yes, please," Spike replied as he turned his coffee mug right side up.
Buffy chewed on her lower lip for a brief moment before saying, "Me, too, please."
He arched a dark brow at her. "Drinkin' coffee now?"
"Yep," she said with a proud grin. "And there's nothing you can do about it."
He laughed, shaking his head, then turned his attention to the menu.
After Stella took their food orders and left to put them in with the kitchen, Spike leaned back in the booth and gave Buffy a wicked leer. "I think I might be corrupting you, luv," he told her. "Nightclubs and sex and now coffee? What's next? Strip clubs and liquor?"
"Eww, Spike!"
He just chuckled at that. "Have you had coffee before?"
Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Uh, duh, of course I have. I'm almost seventeen, Spike; I've had coffee before."
Almost seventeen... That was true. Her birthday was coming up in a couple of weeks and she'd be another year older. The significance of it wasn't lost on him. It didn't matter that he knew they weren't doing anything wrong because in the eyes of the law, she was still underage. The law wouldn't care that he was completely bug-shagging crazy in love with this girl, that he was giving her a safe home and keeping her from harm or even that she was a willing participant in their relationship. To them, the subject of their relationship would be inconsequential just because of her age. And until she was eighteen, they would always be living precariously.
Fuck it. He didn't care. No one was going to tell him how to live his life especially in regards to Buffy. Not even the law.
"Spike?" She kept her gaze trained to her coffee mug as her finger traced the rim.
"Yeah, pet?"
There were words on her lips, but no sound came out of her mouth for a moment, almost as if they were lodged in her throat. "I... I was thinking," she began, her gaze flicking upwards to meet his, "that maybe I could...you know, go back to school."
A wave of panic filled him. What was he supposed to say to that? Hell, he wanted her to finish school, too, but just how were they going to accomplish that without tipping off that she was here? Her father may not be looking for her, but Spike wasn't exactly her legal guardian either. He could imagine what might happen if he tried to enroll her in public school and it wasn't a pretty image.
"Do you...not want me to go back to school?"
Her question created a dam on the river of his thoughts and he gave her an earnest look. "No, Buffy, that's not-" He swiped a hand over his face and exhaled a heavy breath. "Of course I want you t' go back t' school. I want you t' finish an' go on t' college so that you can become a doctor or a lawyer or a bloody astrophysicist, whatever you want. I'm just not sure how we're gonna do that right now."
"Because of how old I am," she added solemnly.
"Hey," he said, reaching across the table for her hand and grasping it firmly in his. "We'll figure it out, luv. I'm not gonna let anythin' stop us from movin' on with our lives. At the very worst, we have t' wait another year t' work on gettin' you that diploma, but we will, Buffy. I promise."
A corner of her mouth lifted as she flashed him a lopsided smile. "I love you, Spike."
After the dozens of times they'd said that to one another in the last twelve hours, Spike would have figured he'd be sick of hearing it and downright nauseated at saying it back, but he wasn't. In fact, the more he heard it the more he wanted to hear it. Over and over and over again, until he was drunk on it. If there was nothing else on this earth that he heard except for those three words in her melodious voice, he would be content for the rest of his life. And he wanted to say it back, until his voice cracked from overuse, until there was no question left in her about how much he loved her.
"I love you, too, Buffy." Forever. Always.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Oh, hi! Remember me? So, I thought you guys might like a little update. Nothing too fancy. Let me know what you think. Happy holidays!!!