Buffy Summers was swimming with the waves, letting the waves take her into shore. Spike was in the house doing whatever since he refused to go for a swim with her. Spike looked out the window and saw what looked like a storm coming in. The washes were starting to get more frequent and bigger. He looked out in the water and there was no sign of Buffy.
Damn, he cursed himself. He should have gone out there with her. His only thought was finding her. He rushed out of the house and dived into the cold water. He saw Buffy, being taken under another wave. Swimming as fast as he could he reached Buffy by then her eyes were closed. He quickly swam to shore, ran inside the house, and lowered her onto the leather couch.
There, her eyes opened and smirked at Spike. He has been fooled. “Nice to see you’re still alive.” He teased. “And here I was about to do mouth to mouth resuscitation.”
“I really would have liked that.” She whispered while a ripple of excitement went through her. Her eyes were locked with his as a smile lit across his face.
His eyes darkened with a desire of his own as he stared down at her mouth. He sat down on the edge of the couch and reached to wipe some hair away from her face. Her lip’s puffed apart with a soft gasp.
He didn't’t say a word and she was glad. Words would have shattered the dizzying sense of anticipation, which was twisting her stomach into knots. His hands curled over her shoulders and his mouth started to descend. Buffy’s heart thudded wildly.
But his head didn't come down all the way. His grip tightened on her shoulders and drew her up toward him…slowly…then swiftly, their mouths collided.
Buffy suppresses passion for him was unleashed with a rush, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist, her mouth as hungry as his. He groaned then pushed her back down onto the coach where he kissed her until she might die from lack of oxygen.
He finally stopped, his breathing ragged as he sat back, his gaze sweeping down over her own panting chest. “Lets get this off,” he said, and swiftly peeled the swimsuit off her hot body, tossing it carelessly aside.
“That’s better.” Spike said.
Buffy couldn't wait till Spike stripped, but he didn't undress. He pushed her left leg off the couch and sat down where it had been lying, leaning forward over her body, his hands skimming over the surface of her rapidly heating body, grazing up over the tips of her breasts.
Buffy gasped, then groaned with disappointment when his hands moved over collarbones and up her throat to her face. Holding the sides of her head, he bent down until their mouths were almost touching, but not quite. His tongue darted out to lick at her lips, working its way around them.
“Give me your tongue,” Spike whispered into the air, while thunder crackled outside. Lightning flashed in through the windows. But the electricity these two had was worse than any storm.
She hesitated a fraction before sliding it slowly out between her lips. She quivered when he touched his tongue to hers, then shuddered when he started sucking on it.
He let it go, his head lifted slightly, his eyes frowning down on her. She blinked at him, her head spinning. “What?” She asked on her daze.
“ Don’t you like that?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “ But don’t stop.”
He laughed a low, deliciously sexy laugh. “No fear of that honey. I have been waiting all day to make love to you.”
“I’ve thought of nothing else.” That gleam was back in her eyes.
“Nice to know that I am not losing my touch.” His head descended again and he kissed her for real, deep kiss that kept her body racing.
She moaned when his mouth abandoned her, then moaned again when his hands ran over her breasts. Her rock-hard nipples felt like they were on fire. He licked one, then sucked on it.
Another electric charge zigzagged down through her stomach, centering between her thighs. She cried out and arched her back away from the couch, her hands somehow finding his hair. He stopped to lift her hands over her head, out of the way. His lips returned to take possession of her other breast, his right squeezing it at the same time, pushing the whole areola and nipple deeper into his mouth. When Buffy's back went to arch again, Spike’s other hand splayed across her tautly held stomach, his large palm pressing her back down against the leather, keeping her still while he continued feasting on her breasts.
She writhed against his captive hands, crying out with pleasure. Every now and then he would nip at a nipple with his teeth, then tug on it. Buffy sucked in sharply with relief once he let go of the nipple, but then would want him to do it again.
When he did stop, and the hand on her belly moved down into the damp curls. His mouth followed, licking at her navel while his fingers parted, probed, and penetrated. She gasped.
“Please,” she begged, her head thrashing from side to side. “Oh, please…”
He responded by flipping her right leg over his shoulder and putting his mouth where his hand had been. He gripped her bottom, lifting it, and her hips, away from the leather, giving him better access, and stopping any more movements from her.
“Yes, yes,” she craved. “There, there!”
His tongue flickered over her swollen clitoris and she almost screamed. Another flick. Then another. She clenched her teeth harder in her jaw. She was going to come. She was sure of it. He only had to touch it with his tongue once more.
He didn't touch it with his tongue again. Instead, his lips closed over the nub and he sucked on it…hard.
She screamed, then splintered apart, coming, as she had never come before. He back arched. Her mouth gaped wide. Her head exploded with a thousand stars. Brilliant. Blinding. The spasms went on and on and on, wave after wave until it was over.
Spike’s head lifted, his statement smug. “Next time, it is your turn to pleasure me. Don’t go away now.” He winked and added an affectionate smack before lifting her leg off his shoulder and placing it gently back down on the couch.
Buffy laid there, dazed, her other leg still dangling over the side of the couch. She didn't’t have the strength to move. Her arms were still flopped over her head and she felt…wonderful. She knew she should get up, but she didn't have the willpower, or the desire.
She finally managed to get up and made her way towards their bedroom. Before she did, she took one more look at the leather couch and smirked. She was NEVER going to think the same about that couch ever again.
She slowly walked to the bedroom, knowing Spike was there waiting for her.
The End
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is a smut fic.