Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me
Feedback: Yes, please.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he's pursuing.
Part nineteen....
"Buffy...oh, Christ, baby...you're so tight...so
hot...sweet...yes...there...there..."
Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen, with
tiny dust motes dancing in it.
Spike's hands held her securely around her waist,
keeping her from sliding backwards on the Formica
counter as he pounded into her. She held on by
wrapping her fingers around the hard muscle of his
biceps.
Almost delirious with pleasure, Buffy had to release
her hold on him and place her hands on the counter,
slightly behind her. With her legs encircling his
waist, she could lift herself to meet every deep
thrust.
When her head tipped back and exposed her creamy
throat, he lunged forward and licked it from the
hollow at it's base, all the way up to the point of
her chin. Seeking the moist sweetness of her
lips, he kissed her hard, plunging his tongue into
her mouth.
Wanting to get closer...needing to go deeper, he
curved his right arm around her waist and pulled
her closer to the edge of the counter. Then, urging
her to lie down all the way, he slipped his hands
beneath her thighs, lifting her bottom until it lost
contact with any hope of support except him.
His eyes were shut tight with concentration as
he pumped harder and faster. Sex had never
been this good before. With Buffy, he felt like he
was sliding into warm cream, and lying against
soft pillows. Her body was so responsive to his
lightest touch that it excited him past the point
of coherent thought. Whenever he put his hands on
her, the rest of the world fell away into a void he
had no interest in searching for. Everything he
wanted was right here...here in this sun-warmed
little kitchen.
He drove himself into her, harder and deeper,
listening to the soft moans and half whispered
words coming from her throat. He opened his eyes
and found her staring up at him in amazed wonder.
It was a breathtaking sight. Her skin was damp and
flushed a light shade of pink, and her green eyes
were glassy. The heavy wealth of her honey brown
hair was spread beneath her like a halo.
She was absolutely the most beautiful thing he'd
ever seen.
"I'm...I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked.
Buffy shook her head, no.
It wasn't enough. "Tell me," he insisted. "Tell me
how it feels for you."
She didn't really know what to say, being unskilled in the
art of "pillow talk", and too shy to use the descriptive
words he'd been saying to her.
He tried to help her. "Does it feel good, babe? Do
you like what I'm doing to you?"
Now, there was a question she could answer!
"Yes," she nodded. "I love...it. I do....."
Sliding his hands beneath her back, he lifted her
up. "Hang on, love," he directed, moving backwards
and sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.
Amazed that he'd been able to perform this maneuver
without breaking their connection, Buffy quickly discovered
that this new position had definite advantages. With her
sitting on his lap and facing him, she could balance her
feet on the rungs of the chair and lift herself up and down.
Tangling his fingers in her hair, he buried his face
against her soft throat, kissing and licking it as she
bounced on his lap.
His mouth found hers, and they kissed with passionate
intensity. His tongue delved deeply into her mouth, tasting
the softness of her inner cheeks and dancing on the edges
of her small, white teeth.
Bodies pressed close, they rocked together, groaning
and panting with every deep, gliding thrust.
Buffy was close...so close to the spectacular finish he'd
been priming her for. Her fingertips moved over the smooth
flesh of his shoulders and up his neck, finally meeting around
his face. He kissed and nipped at the soft pads, sucking each
finger and swirling his tongue around it.
His hands suddenly moved down, briefly squeezing her
breasts before they found her waist. Lifting her just a little,
he began to slam his hips up harder and faster.
Her breathing became ragged and sharp, and she
clutched at his shoulders again, hanging on.
Their eyes met, and stayed locked on each other.
Buffy came first, her hips grinding down hard on him
as her sex milked him in violent spasms, demanding
every drop he had to give her. She cried out his name,
and fisted her hands in his hair almost to the point of
pain.
Devlin's control snapped. Taking a tighter hold on her,
he began pumping even harder, gliding wetly in and
out of her. Shouting hoarsely, he came, spurting
what felt like a gallon of semen up inside of her.
When it was over, their breathing began to slow
and the sweat began to dry upon them.
Nuzzling the side of her face, he laughed a little.
"Didn't we come down here for breakfast?"
Buffy smiled. "What was that we just had?"
"Call it an appetizer," he replied, kissing her cheek
with a loud smack. "I'm starved. Want to go out to
eat?"
She sat back and shook her head. "No. I want to
dazzle you with my skill in the kitchen."
Grinning at her lecherously, he said, "Consider me
dazzled, gorgeous. Or...was that not the skill you
were referring to?"
"Very funny," she said. Giving him a slight shove,
she looked around the floor. "Where did you throw
my bathrobe?"
"Who knows?" he muttered, rubbing his chest against
her bare breasts. "Who cares? Hey...come back here."
"Oh, no you don't." She dodged away from his reach-
ing hand and scrambled off his lap. Their bodies separated
with a moist, sucking sound, and they both made a face.
"Sorry about that," he said, sounding not the least bit
sorry at all. "Bit messy, huh?"
Buffy snagged her robe and shoved her arms into it,
feeling suddenly embarrassed about being naked in the
kitchen. She excused herself to the bathroom, promising
to fix him breakfast when she returned.
Halfway up the stairs, she heard him.
"Drop dead gorgeous, sweet and funny, loves kids,
and she cooks, too!" he yelled. "Now I KNOW I'm
falling, Miss Buffy!"
She almost walked into the bathroom without replying,
then gathered up all her courage and leaned over the
landing. "Me, too!" she yelled back, diving into the bathroom
and locking the door when she heard him mutter some-
thing under his breath and come running up the stairs.
****************************************************
She took great pains with her breakfast preparations,
grateful that she actually had the food she wanted on
hand.
After starting the coffee maker, she pulled a large
cast iron skillet out of a lower cupboard. Dropping
in a spoonful of cooking oil, she sliced potatos and
onions into the pan, frying them until the potatos were a
golden brown, and the onions translucent.. When they
were finished, she put the skillet in the oven to keep warm,
and cracked a half a dozen eggs into her large blue mixing bowl.
Adding a little milk, she whisked the egg mixture around until
it was frothy, then melted butter in another skillet and
poured the eggs in.
Devlin sat and watched every move she made, asking
questions and pestering her until she put him in charge
of making toast to give him something to do with his
wandering hands.
She set the table with her grandmother's china and
crystal, placing a chilled carafe of orange juice in the
middle. When the eggs began to set, she scrambled
them to a fluffy turn and spooned them onto a serving
plate.
Spike buttered toast, and searched through the fridge
for jam. He found three different kinds, and placed all
of them on the table.
Buffy removed the skillet from the oven and placed it
on a trivet next to the juice container. Placing her crystal
salt and pepper shakers within easy reach, she poured
two mugs of coffee and grabbed her sugar bowl.
Before he sat down, Spike looked out the window and
immediately headed for the door. Barefoot, wearing
only his jeans, he snapped off a yellow rose from a
bush in her next door neighbor's yard, then ran back
in the house and presented it to her.
Well, she had to kiss him for it, and she did...quite
thoroughly. Placing the rose in a glass of water, she
announced that breakfast was served.
Spike pulled out a chair with a continental flourish.
Taking her hand, he seated her gracefully, then
kissed her fingers before he sat down next to her.
They talked of inconsequential things while they
ate. He told her about where he'd grown up...some-
where in the southern part of England, and she
in turn revealed a few things about her own childhood.
He ate every scrap of food on his plate, praising it
lavishly, and telling her that, while her skills in the
kitchen were definitely not limited to the culinary, he
certainly appreciated them at the moment.
Snitching the last piece of toast off her plate, he
slathered it with a thick layer of boysenberry jam.
Buffy poured more coffee into his mug, smiling when
he dumped three large spoons of sugar into it.
She sipped her own lightly sweetened coffee, and
considered the fact that for someone with his
sugar laden eating habits, there wasn't an ounce of
superfluous flesh anywhere on him. He was trim and
lean, and very well built, and she had to force herself
not to stare rudely at his bare chest.
It was really...really...difficult to do.
***************************************************
When the mantle clock in her living room chimed
three, they were stretched out on her sofa
kissing...making out was what she would have
called it in high school...and they were both
having a difficult time controlling themselves.
"Damn it," he swore softly, looking at the little
clock as though he hated it. "I have to go. We're
having a rehearsal today...some new material we're
trying out on the tour."
Although he ordered himself to stand up and
move away from her, the sight of her kiss-reddened
lips drew him back for more.
A few moments later, Buffy pulled away. "I thought
you had to go," she reminded him, holding him off
with one hand on his chest.
"I do," he said, pushing her hand away and capturing
lips again. "I'm going now," he added, trailing wet kisses
up the side of her cheek.
Her eyes drifting shut with pleasure, she arched her
throat, murmuring softly when he began nuzzling and
kissing it.
"Temptress," he whispered in her ear, sucking gently
on her lobe.
Shaking her head a little to clear it, she nudged him
away. "Be good."
"I don't want to be good," he protested, wriggling his
hips against hers. "I want to be bad," he added, smiling
that killer smile of his. "I want to be bad with you...I want
to be bad all over you." Slipping one hand up, he cupped
her breast. "Don't you want to be bad with me, baby?"
She did. She really did. But....
Grabbing his hand, she pushed it away hard enough to
shove him right off the couch.
"Hey!" he yelped, landing on his arse.
Before he could climb back up, she lurched to her
feet. "You need to go," she told him, backing
away.
Devlin rose to his knees and followed her. "Come
here," he demanded, reaching for her.
She skipped back just in time. "No. Now, you get
the rest of your clothes on, and I'll...don't...no, Spike,
you can't...we can't..."
He'd jumped to his feet and was stalking her around
the sofa. "Miss Buffy," he sing-songed. "You know
I'll catch you, darling. Give in gracefully."
Buffy tightened the sash of her robe. "You have a
rehearsal," she pointed out, using her best "teacher"
voice. "Now, you go and get ready for it."
He stopped, surprising her a little. "Come with me."
"Who, me?"
"Yeah, come on. It'll be fun," he coaxed her, giving
her that boyish grin she adored.
She hesitated. "The others won't mind?"
"Nah. I told you, love...it's my band. Come on."
She was wavering. "Well...."
Devlin sweetened the deal. "I'll sing you a song," he
promised, tempting her shamelessly with his blue
topaz eyes and charming smile. "A love song."
That clinched it. She was in!
TBC.....
Feedback is welcome!
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