He was on his side, facing her, and he pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Hey, kitten. I was wondering when you were going to come to.”
“What happened?” Buffy asked, her voice sounding hoarse.
“You blacked out during sex.” Something in the tone of his voice made him sound as if he were hiding something, though the next words he spoke sounded as if they were a revelation to him. “I was worried.”
Buffy was too tired to search for meanings behind what he was saying. Instead, she stretched, then rolled towards him, fighting to keep her eyelids open. “Can I just…sleep here for a bit? Is that all right?”
“Of course, luv. Here, let me tuck you in, yeah?”
She nodded, already starting to fall asleep as he pulled up the sheets and draped them around her. The cool silk felt good around her skin, and a small smile crept to her face. She felt tired, but good. Sated.
Soon, Spike was beside her, wrapping himself around her. She sighed dreamily, wondering when was the last time anyone had just held her.
Spike pressed his lips against her hairline, and she heard him inhale, as if he were breathing in the scent of her. One hand lingered in her hair, occasionally moving to stroke the golden strands while the other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her close to him.
As she drifted off to sleep, one thought stayed in her mind.
This wasn’t a momentary thing…
Buffy woke still wrapped in the cocoon of Spike’s arms. He had her head in the crook of his neck and one of his hands had come to rest possessively on her bottom. His thigh was wedged between her legs, pressing intimately against her, and his cock was hard. She bit her bottom lip, contemplating whether or not she should wake him up and ask him to make love to her again. After all, it was still dark in the room, so it couldn’t be any later than…
She looked up, saw the clock across the room, and her eyes bulged. Ten thirty? She’d honestly been asleep that long?
It was then that she noticed the curtains over his windows were thick and black. No wonder the sun had woken her… Although with the windows facing the east, she could certainly understand why he would have blackout curtains. Spike didn’t strike her as an early riser.
She did a quick count in her head, realizing it was Wednesday. She’s last spoken to her boss on Monday, after she’d received the pictures of Riley and decided she needed a couple of “personal days,” but she knew she’d already taken off longer than she should with everything that had been going on in the office lately. Especially given the fact she hadn’t called in two days now…
Buffy tried to extricate herself from Spike’s arms, only to have them tighten around her. She tried again, thinking it was only a sleep reflex, but he did it again, this time adding a grumbled, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“It’s ten thirty,” she replied. “I was should’ve been at work two hours ago.”
“Yeah, well, then you’ve already missed it.” He opened his eyes, and the bright blue had her captivated. “Stay in bed with me today. I promise it’ll be much better than work.”
She nodded, finding herself completely unable to say no to him when he looked at her like that.
Buffy expected him to fall back asleep then, given the fact he still looked rather sleepy. Instead, however, he rolled her onto her other side, lifted her leg over his hip, and slid into her from behind. She cried out in surprise, though she found sleeping beside him alone was enough to make her wet and ready for his entry.
His teeth clamped down gently on her shoulder as he thrust in and out, taking no time to work up to a steady, hard rhythm. He growled softly into her skin, one hand skimming down her stomach to reach between her legs and rub her clit. She didn’t think she’d ever had a man take her quite the way he was now. It was rough, uneven, animalistic. She had the thought of a caveman after he’d clubbed a woman over the head and dragged her off to his cave, and she would’ve laughed at the mental image had she not been so swept up in what he was doing to her body.
Her hand curled backwards, her fingers tangling in his hair, the bleached curls tantalizingly soft against her skin as she held him in place, begging him without words not to stop what he was doing, not to leave her. His touch felt raw to her, as if there were no artifice, no games. He was laying herself bare before her.
Never, not even in five years of marriage, had she felt this sort of intimate passion with anyone. It seemed almost unreal that she’d be finding it with a virtual stranger, though she couldn’t deny what she was experiencing now. It was too bright, too big to ignore.
It didn’t take her long to come, not the way he was working her with cock and fingers. Her gasp drew out into a moan as she shuddered in his arms, feeling him follow her with a loud growl into her skin.
His hand slid back to her stomach and he licked at her shoulder like a cat, his cock partially softened but still nestled inside of her. Within moments, Buffy knew he’d fallen back asleep, and she was happy to follow him over.
Work could most definitely wait for another day.
Buffy didn’t know how long she’d been asleep this time when she woke up again. She had a dim memory of waking up sometime between now and then to feel Spike sliding in and out of her, but had been awake just long enough to shudder around him before they both drifted off again.
Now, however, she was wide awake, hungry, and needed to pee. She tried to slip out of his arms, and again, he tightened his arm around her.
“Bathroom,” she said by way of explanation.
“Oh, right,” he muttered, barely awake from the sound of is voice. “’S over there.” He removed his arm and pointed towards a shut door, then let his arm drop, away from her this time.
“Thanks,” Buffy said, looking back long enough to drop a quick kiss on his forehead before she scurried off to the bathroom.
She stepped inside the bathroom and switched on the light, unable to keep from gasping as she did. It was huge, bigger than her living room. It was done entirely in black marble, and while there was a shower stall, a large, raised Jacuzzi tub set in the middle of the room.
Buffy knew she probably should’ve realized it when she’d seen his bed, though she hadn’t given a lot of thought to anything other than her desire for him until now. But this guy wasn’t lacking in funds.
Her gaze was transfixed to the tub. In her mind, he was there, sprawled out on the edge, all wet and naked… She licked her lips, throwing herself into the mental mix, imaging what it would be like to ride him hard with the water swirling around them…
Because in a tub that size, it wouldn’t take any strange twisting to comfortably fit two people in there. Or hell, more than two…
At that, Buffy found her thoughts taking another turn. This place wasn’t just expensive; it was set up for seduction. She wondered how many women Spike had picked up just like he had her. How many women had been wrapped up in those silken sheets?
She shook her head, pushing the thought away. He’d told her she meant something to him, that she was special, and she believed him. They’d both been on different paths before they’d come crashing into each other, and now they were…
Well, she didn’t really know what they were. Would she leave here tonight and go back to her life, with Spike nothing but a very pleasant memory? Why did that thought make her insides twist more than divorcing her husband?
Buffy decided not to dwell on it. She’d take this moment by moment, see where it led. He’d wanted her to stay around today, and that had to mean something, right?
It was too much to contemplate it all now. Whatever it was between them was too fresh and tender to try to dissect. And standing in the bathroom thinking about it was only wasting time she could be in bed with him.
With that thought, Buffy decided to hurry, using the toilet quickly before going to the sink. She looked around for a mirror, wanting to make sure she didn’t have runny make-up or crazy hair, but couldn’t seem to find one.
Odd, sure, but she brushed it off. He was a guy, after all, Maybe he didn’t really care what he looked like.
She reached for the faucet, pausing when she saw something dark smeared on the chrome. She flaked a bit off and pulled it up to eye level, inspecting it and realizing it looked suspiciously like blood.
He must’ve cut himself and come in here to wash it off…
She turned on the water then and washed her hands, satisfied with that reasoning. It made complete sense, after all. Just because Spike wore all black, lived in a refinished warehouse, and probably had a habit of picking up strange young women didn’t make him some whacked out serial killer, after all.
“Geez, Buffy, really – serial killer?” she mumbled to herself as she turned off the faucet, feeling stupid for even having that phrase enter her thoughts.
Shaking her head, she stepped back into the main room, her breath catching in her throat when she got a glimpse of Spike.
He was lounging in the bed, pale white skin against rumpled red and black satin sheets. He reminded her of some sort of old-fashioned lord, awaiting service. Her service…
It was enough to make her knees buckle.
He smirked when he caught her staring, winked, then beckoned her with a crooked finger, his tongue curling against his teeth.
Buffy walked towards the bed, praying her knees didn’t buckle on her. She’d never seen a man who was sexier than he was in that moment, and to know she was the one who got to be on the receiving end of his passion…
When she got to the edge of the bed, he moved so quickly she didn’t register he’d done it until he had her, until he was pulling her to him and situating her over his mouth. He growled into her dripping pussy then began to stab his tongue inside of her, feasting from her.
Buffy shouted out, the front half of her body toppling forward as Spike tightly gripped her hips. Her hands reached out, grasping, and ending up wrapped around a pole.
Her brow furrowed, and she wondered why Spike would have a mattress-high pole at the end of his bed until she noticed there was a pair of manacles attached to it. He kept a set of manacles by the bed? What sort of stuff was this man into?
But then she didn’t care, not when his inhumanly wonderful tongue was wrapped around her clit. She gripped the pole tighter, unable to stop her from vocalizing her pleasure – loudly.
And the louder she was, the more eager he was to please her. She came around his tongue and he didn’t stop. If anything, he redoubled his efforts, bringing her off two more times before she finally couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to stop.
He slid her back down and she flopped back to the mattress on her back, gasping to catch her breath. Her whole body was shaking, and for long moments, she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought.
When she finally could, she turned to him, still panting, her arm draped over her forehead.
“Do you really have manacles at the end of the bed?”
A smirk slowly spread across Spike’s face as his eyebrow went up.
“Yeah, I do. Wanna try them out?”
More to come soon. Please review.