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Chapter 8

Buffy gave another big sigh, it had taken her a good half hour to ready Spike for bed, and that only included taking his duster and shoes off. The difficulty being that every time she moved him, he woke briefly and tried to grope her.

Buffy was still reeling from the sensations, particularly from when it had seemed like a good idea to sit him up on the edge of the bed, and rest his head on her chest in between her breast to slip his arms out of his duster. Spike must have an uncanny sense, she thought, because as soon as she lent forward to slide one of his arms out, Spikes tongue flicked out and across her nipple through her top. She shook her head and put it down to her over active imagination. Then as she bent again to reach for his other arm his mouth closed over her whole nipple and sucked gently. Suppressing a moan she disengaged his head, ignoring his drunken protests and laid him back on the bed.

Totally unprepared for it, she fell when he pulled her down on top of it. Buffy shook her head. Spike definitely didn’t suffer from brewers droop. He was as hard as a rock despite his drunken state. His arms wrapped around her waist and raised his hips to grind himself into her. Buffy responded for a second and then pulled herself out of it. She thought for a split second that what could it hurt? He probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow. But she quickly put that one out of her head.

“Spike, come on, stop that, you need to sleep.” Buffy scolded him.

“Don’t need sleep, I want to fuck you.” Spike mumbled out. His mouth had found her neck and was quite happily nuzzling her.

Buffy’s breath caught at his blunt but strangely erotic comment.

About to protest again Buffy was cut off as Spike flipped them so that she was on her back with Spike lying in between her legs. Spike was now kissing and licking her neck; she felt the muscles and bones of his face ripple and knew that he had shifted into gameface. A constant growl rippling through his throat.

She tensed as he began grazing one of his fangs along her neck.

“Spike? What are you doing?” she questioned softly. She didn’t think he would harm her but he was really drunk.

Spike began rocking against her, grinding his hard on into her. Buffy gasped and rocked back. The combination of grazing fangs and rocking cock had her at a loss.

Thinking that she should be doing something, Buffy tried to clear her thoughts. Oh yeah, struggling, she should be struggling. Before she had a chance to put her plan into action she felt two things.

Spikes fangs pierced her neck and an orgasm ripped through her body. Her back arched uncontrollably as a wordless scream burst from her throat. She felt Spike bow against her, in what she could only assume was his own pleasure. They slumped to the bed with Buffy panting heavily. At some point Spike had removed his fangs from her neck and his face had returned to its human counterpart. He slumped heavily against her and she pushed him off, on to the bed.

Typical she thought. He had passed out again. She got up and covered him with a throw. Passing her mirror on the way out of the room, she stopped and looked at herself.

Her hand went to the two puncture holes that were slowly tricking blood. She grabbed a tissue from the desk and dabbed at her neck. Feeling simultaneously warmed by the sight and slightly disgusted with herself. She had let spike bite her, okay let was a slightly strong word, but she hadn’t put up much of a fight. She was like a puppy she thought, doing anything for a doggie treat, but in her case all it had took was Spike’s tongue.

Buffy thought that she had been definitely right to cool things off with Spike because she now knew for a fact that given the right circumstances she would let Spike do whatever he wanted to.

She left the room and went to bed, she had a lot to do tomorrow, and she could only hope that she could block all the other unwanted thoughts.

**

It was about two o’clock the following afternoon that the gang arrived at Buffy’s house, causing Spike to awaken. He could hear talking downstairs. Lying in the bed he listened.

“…I still don’t like it Buffy” Xander was saying.

“I said its fine, Xander.” That was Buffy.

Spike looked around the room. He was in Buffy’s bedroom. Now if only he could remember how he got there. He sat up and immediately regretted it. His brain was trying to escape by doing a quick Morris dance before trying to get out of his ear.

Ah yes, the joys of Jack Daniels. Drinking had seemed like a good idea at the time.

He pushed back the throw and stared down at his jeans. There was a suspicious stain on them that looked familiar. Then the dream floated back. Buffy on this bed. He shook his head, disgusted with himself, he was so whipped. He just hoped that he hadn’t embarrassed himself.

Well he couldn’t walk around in these jeans, he stood up slowly, not wanting to cause his brain any more trouble, he made his way over to Buffy’s wardrobe.

**

A loud crash sounded from upstairs and all of the gangs eyes were looking in that direction. Buffy got up and jogged up the stairs.

“Spike probably fell out of the bed again. You should have seen him last night. Sprawled on the floor cuddling Mr. Gordo, it was so cute.” Dawn giggled as she informed the rest of the gang.

Willow and Anya giggled as well. Xander just glared.

“I bet it wasn’t cute when he was chewing on your sister’s neck.” He snapped.

Dawn just rolled her eyes at him; he just didn’t get the thing between Spike and Buffy.

**

Buffy opened her bedroom door. Spike was again lying on the floor, only this time he was clutching a pile of clothes and a shoe, there was a pile of clothing and shoes surrounding him.

Buffy laughed and went over to him, picking up the clothes.

“I was looking for some trousers. I hit my head on the top shelf and it kind of collapsed.” Spike explained sheepishly.

Buffy still laughing, waved away the explanation. She piled the clothes on top of her weapon chest and pulled out a pair of sweats from the bottom of the wardrobe.

“You can wear these.” Buffy offered. She tossed him the sweats and crossed the room.

She jumped as Spike was suddenly behind her closing the door in front of her. She suppressed the shudder that her body wanted to do at the vampires close proximity.

Spike smoothed her hair away from her neck and stared at the bite mark. He slid around to the front of her body and stared into her eyes.

“I take it by the state of my jeans and that on your neck, it wasn’t a dream last night.” He asked.

“Um. No.” Buffy felt ridiculously pleased at the thought of Spike dreaming of her.

Spike ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

“I was wasted. I assume it was you who brought me here.” He took a deep unneeded breath as Buffy nodded before carrying on. His hand drifted to the bite mark and he ran the tips of his fingers over it.

“I didn’t…er…was it...? Bollocks, did I force you Buffy?” he ground out.

“God no, Spike. You were damn persistent, but I was there too.” Buffy answered softly.

“I’m sorry.” Spike responded simply.

Buffy nodded again.

“Why don’t you go have a shower, the gang is downstairs. Tonight’s the night to hit the club. You are still going to help aren’t you?” Buffy questioned suddenly.

“Yeah, I’ll help.” Spike stepped out of her way and went to retrieve the sweats.

Buffy headed downstairs while Spike headed to the shower.

tbc....





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