Hovering on the edge between dreams and reality, Buffy awoke to the serene sounds of flowing water. Initially, she willed the tranquil noise to lull her back to her dreams where she was free from this dreaded place. However, consciousness continued to push forward until she could no longer hide.
Buffy’s sleep-filled eyes fluttered open as she glanced at her surroundings. "Nope. Still in hell,"Buffy inwardly griped. After several blinks, her gaze focused on where the sound originated. The shower. More specifically Spike...in the shower.
Her eyes widened to comic proportions as her brain caught up to the messages her sight delivered. Spike…was naked…in the shower. Completely sans clothing…bare assed…naked as a Jaybird…in his birthday suit…gloriously nude. Mimicking a psych experiment, Buffy's mouth began to salivate worse than Pavlov’s dog, from the mind-numbing sight before her.
Almost flawless alabaster skin christened by water and deft hands. Chiseled muscles flexed and relaxed with each movement he made. Boldly, her gaze lowered. Nestled in a thatch of dark curls jutted forward an impressive testament to his manhood. His long thick cock looked as though Eros himself sculpted it. Utter perfection.
After countless hours of Buffy-plagued dreams and torturous moments with an erection that demanded attention, Spike pulled himself from bed. Without liquor, cigarettes, or a violent kill to get his mind out of his pants and hers, he decided to shower. Stripping off his tattered jeans, Spike winced several times as he pulled away the blood soaked material stuck to his mending flesh. Quickly entering the shower, his motion triggered the cleansing deluge of water. He moaned slightly while the streams cleared away days of filth and blood. The heat pulled tension from his muscles and the chill from his bones.
Slowly working up a substantial lather on his weary body, sounds of a human stirring drew him from his task. Not just any human, but Buffy. As a true predator, without appearing distracted but all his senses on full alert, Spike could hear her heartbeat and breaths increasing. Casually turning, hands still caressing his skin, he fully faced her. Spike stifled a grin that tickled the edges of his full lips as he heard a slight gasp from Buffy’s direction.
Relishing in the thoughts of a captive audience, he continued to savor the careful attention he placed upon his body with long, lavish sweeps of his lather-filled hands. Following exaggerated circular motions upon his chest and abdomen, his hands descended. Reaching his pronounced erection, Spike encircled the rigid shaft and with sweeping downward and upward strokes, he thoroughly cleaned the appendage.
While one hand tended his cock the other gathered his heavy sac in his palm and with tender swipes of his fingers, he bathed. Spike’s eyes blissfully closed with dual sensations of his ministrations and Buffy’s captive gaze upon him. Once he felt the sweet abyss of his climax drawing closer, he removed his hands from his body, and turned away from her to rinse. Spike ignored his mind and cock, demanding release as he slowly stepped from under the spray.
Inwardly Spike reminded himself that this little ‘show and tell’ was to tantalize her, not scare her away. Precariously, he walked a fine line between showering and masturbation. Spike knew that Buffy was still questioning all the changes that had transpired in her life over the last few days. The biggest one was that all demons were not evil and disgusting. Well, his exhibition was slightly evil, but in a good way. Wanking in full view of her would have ruined all that was slowly being built between them and a toss wasn’t worth it.
Spike slowly walked towards his bed, giving her an extended view of his perfect posterior. With a flourish yank, he pulled the sheet off and wrapped it skillfully around his slim hips. Running his fingers through his sodden locks, he sat on the bed and inspected his damaged jeans, all the while listening to the rapid heartbeat and breaths of his roommate.
Buffy was in complete awe at what had transpired before her. Never in her young life had a mundane activity such as showering, stirred her inner passions in this manner before. A fine sheen of perspiration lay on her skin. Her heartbeat raced. Her was mind blank, except for thoughts and tantalizing vision of one person. Her womb was heavy and slick with wanton desire.
Knowing she couldn’t confine herself to bed the entire day, Buffy made a conscious decision. She needed to make Spike believe that she was still asleep, and just now waking. Lying completely motionless, she attempted to regulate her breathing. She knew her heavy breaths were probably amplified to a vamp’s sensitive hearing, especially without the noise from the shower being a buffer. Slowly swallowing the lump of nervousness in her throat, after several beats Buffy inwardly thought. "Showtime.”
With exaggerated stretches and moans, Buffy began to stir. Another grin threatened to return to Spike’s lips, before he tamped it down. Once harnessed, his gaze rose and watched her performance. Spike was in awe how gorgeous she was; hair tousled from sleep, a rosy flush spread over her skin, pupils still dark pools of desire. He shifted slightly as his cock swelled further and pressed against the thin sheet, as he played along with her act.
“Mornin’ slayer, sleep well?”
“Mmm…yeah, like a rock. How long have you been up?”
”All bloody night.” Spike inwardly groused as his cock jumped, demanding attention.
“Not long, only took a shower then you woke up. Don’t know, about twenty minutes.”
“Oh.” Sitting up, Buffy’s gaze immediately fixed on his chest. Noticing the five nasty red welts marring his flesh, a wave of guilt flooded her. She was too busy ogling his body like some big ho to notice he was injured.
“Spike, what happened?” His gaze followed hers as he peered downwards. His eyes widened slightly as his cock jumped once more within the confines of the sheet. Still peering downwards, hoping she noticed, but not, he asked.
“What?”
Buffy quickly rose from her bed and headed towards him, as close as the line would allow. Concern filled her features and words. “What do you mean what, those nasty gashes, that’s what? How did this happen?” Spike gave her an incredulous look while his scarred brow rose in question. Noticing this she continued. “I know it happened in the ring, but how?”
“Nasty bloke took a swing at me when I got too close, voila, instant gashes.” With a sweep of his hand, he waved it in front of his injured chest.
“Well they look like they’re healing nicely. So, is that it, or are there anymore nasty things you’re hiding?” Once more, his cock stirred while his mind raced with dirty innuendos, that his tongue begged to release.
“Well, there’s this…” As Spike stood, the sheet shifted on his hips. Buffy’s eyes widened and fixed on the impressive bulge barely hidden under the linens. Instantly, she flushed and slapped her hand over her eyes.
“I don’t want to see that Spike!” Buffy sputtered while his tee shirt rode upward, precariously close to revealing her covered sex. Stifling a combination groan and laugh, Spike responded.
“Geez Slayer, I thought after all you’ve seen you wouldn’t be so skittish around them.” Buffy’s hand dropped. Her now angry gaze narrowed and held firm.
“I’ll have you know there’s only been four…I mean three…only three that I’ve seen, and one doesn’t really count because I never truly looked at it! How dare you assume that I wouldn’t act surprised that you were trying to show me your—“
Spike lifted the bottom of the sheet to reveal his injured legs. The flesh appeared newly mended, but angry gouges still resided where the demon’s claws tore into his flesh.
“—wounds,” Buffy’s deflated, embarrassed tone echoed through the room. Her gaze held on his damaged lower legs. Relishing in her humiliation, Spike’s features held a hundred years of practiced faux innocence as he spoke.
“Slayer, what did you think I was going to show you?” Regardless of over a century of using this mock sincerity, Buffy saw right through it. Her eyes lowered and briefly scanned the area where his manhood resided, then returned to his.
“Nothing much,” cheekily her tone rang out. Her challenge caused Spike to step up his verbal assault.
“I find that hard to believe Slayer. I’ve seen many wounds before, and I assure you, mine is quite impressive.” The rumble from Spike’s purring words instantly caused her core to clench and dampen. Her body’s treacherous reaction had her shivering with desire, from his deep seductive timbre, which inundated his seemingly straightforward words, with blatant sexual undertones.
“You’re shivering, cold Slayer?”
Despite the heat that radiated from between her legs and pulsed within each vein, she silently nodded her agreement. Buffy needed something, anything that would break his gaze swirling with craving and raw hunger.
His golden gaze never held the intense predatory stare that his piercing blues held at this moment. She felt completely exposed. His eyes devoured and consumed her entirely, leaving only a quivering mass of desires in their wake. "Even with a full suit of armor, he would still make me feel naked," Buffy thought. Before her id completely took over and kicked out its two very important friends, she used his question as a way out.
“Yeah, could you turn—“
“Oh, yeah sorry, I’ll let you get dressed. Um, toss over the shirt when you’re through. Like to cover up these nasty wounds. Itching somethin’ fierce and I don’t want to scratch at them.”
Eyes trained on his turned form, Buffy began to dress. When she removed Spike’s tee from her body, each inch of flesh screamed out for the worn fabrics return. Raising the shirt to her nose, taking one final long draw, she captured and trapped his essence within her chest and mind. She held her breath briefly to hold on to this one piece of him as she tossed the tee over to his side. After several moments, the air burned in her lungs and finally forced her to dispel the treasured breath in a long sigh.
“Spike, I’m all set, thanks.” Hearing her words, he turned and started to collect his clothing. Attempting to lighten the heavy burden of sexual tension in the room, Spike started to tug at the sheet around his waist. Mesmerized, she watched for a moment until her Super Ego spoke up.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed. Thought it be turn about fair play. I saw yours, now you get to see mine,” Spike responded with a brow wiggle and smirk.
A momentary flash of contemplation filled her features, until her inner good girl pushed to the forefront once more.
“I appreciate your fairness, thanks, but no thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he indicated with his finger in a circular motion for her to turn around. Following his silent command, Buffy faced her bed. In her line of sight was the wall. However in her mind, flashed memories of Spike in the shower.
He appeared before her resembling an animated statue of Michelangelo’s David. His lithe muscles stirred under almost flawless marmoreal flesh. His strong grip bestowing strokes her hand twitched to replicate. Before her mind could go any further, reality crashed through her lustful thoughts.
“Prisoners, assume the position.”
Echoing the grumbling falling from Spike’s lips, Buffy moved into position. Her door slid open giving way to several guards and Jack, his boorish words filling the room.
“Well, well, well looks like you both earned rations. Now, before you get all teary eyed, not my idea. The way I see it, a true fighter not only battles others, but one’s self—fatigue, hunger, injuries. Overcoming all of that really proves your strength.” With an eye roll and shake of his head in disgust, he continued. “I don’t know why I bother to give my enlightening thoughts, probably lost on you mindless demons anyway. So, here you go.”
Jack nodded towards three guards behind him. Turning to leave, he called over his shoulder. “Tonight second battle for you both. And little girl, don’t expect to get another free pass.” With that, he was gone. Replaced by the guards bearing their food.
Spike could sense one guard approaching him. Under his breath, he could hear his murmured thoughts on how "‘it sucked that he got stuck feeding the leech'". The closer he became, the guard proceeded to grumble how "'he really wanted to feed the demon bitch'" and "‘he had something of his that she would love eating.’"
Instant rage caused Spike’s demon to burst forward, while the guard’s crass mutters announced his position, only a few feet away. Following the sound of the two plastic, liquid filled packets bouncing off his bed, Spike spun and lunged at the guard. With a flash of fang and fury-filled golden eyes, the man screamed for help.
“It’s on me! Get it off!”
Instantly, Spike felt pulses of electricity surge through his body. Following several waves, oblivion began to pull him under. On the perimeters of his consciousness, he could hear Buffy begging the guards to "‘stop’", to "‘please, stop.’" Her sweet pleas were the last sounds he heard as nothingness closed in and swallowed him whole.
With a final, parting kick to his motionless, prone body, the guards left. Once the door slid closed, Buffy rushed to and hovering before the red line, as she repeatedly called out to the unresponsive vamp.
For the umpteenth time, Buffy’s concerned gaze fell on him as she paced. Endless hours seemed to pass as she continued to hold vigil over the still unconscious Spike.
“Stupid, stupid vamp! What the hell were you thinking? Actually that’s a stupid question, Spike and thoughts are completely un-mixy.” Buffy’s tone was a mixture of concern and sarcasm as her voice briefly displaced the unnerving silence.
Spike’s mind fought through the suppressing blackness. Buffy’s voice and her overwhelming essence, which permeated his shirt, was his beacon of light through the dark. Once he pushed through the smothering haze, his spinning mind and shards of pain racking his body, welcomed him back. His tongue lay heavy in his mouth as his throat choked words forward.
“Thanks ever so Slayer. You could have waited to take a turn with kick the Spike once I was awake. You know, so I can fully enjoy the insult.”
Hearing his hoarse whisper, Buffy stopped mid-stride and rushed to the painted boundary. Slowly raising himself from the floor, Spike grimaced while he pulled into a sitting position, his back supported by his bed. Blindly reaching behind him, after several attempts, he grabbed one of the two blood bags that lay there.
Calling forth his demon, his fang pierced the plastic. With greedy draws, he gulped down the entire contents in a matter of moments. Licking stray droplets from his lips and fangs, Spike’s eyes closed briefly. Once opened, they settled on Buffy, who remained standing before him.
“You stupid, thickheaded—“
“Slayer, stop you’re making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
“—bleached menace! You’re lucky I can’t go over there, because right now I’m totally in the mood for kicking a little demon ass!”
“Why you getting your leather thong all in a bunch Slayer? Would of have really mattered if they dusted me?” Buffy’s hesitation to answer spurred his continued taunting words.
“Here come the warm fuzzes…”
“Whatever, it’s not like that I careif you get dusted. It’s more that it would get really boring in here if you’re not around to make fun of. And…and if you’re gone, then who’s going to mouth off to Jack? Those are the only reasons why I want you around, so don’t go getting a big head over it.”
Aggravated that his injuries affected her as much as they did, Buffy turned away from him ending their conversation abruptly. Attempting to distract herself, she headed over to her ice-cold rations. Forcefully digging through the viscous lump, she sought out raisin-like morsels, placing them slowly into her mouth.
Spike knew the conversation was over once she’d turned her back to him and ate in silence. He realized any reply would be futile. Typically, the silence would cause him to talk more, but with his mind still buzzing with echoes of pulsating electricity, he welcomed it.
Wincing as he slowly blinked, the spinning in his brain, mimicking the times when the chip would fire. Like then, with any wrong movement his head felt like it would burst at the seams. Once he drained the second packet, his demon receded as he crawled on his stripped bed and fell asleep.
Following several nibbles of mystery substance, Buffy followed his lead as she slid herself under the sheets. She tossed and turned several moments before she understood what her treacherous body craved. Him. Slowly turning over and once situated her gaze fell upon and remained fixed on his relaxed features.
Never before had she really looked at him. He was a complete enigma. Not only did his physical features entice: long, inky lashes rimming sparking blues, sculpted cheekbones and jaw line that resembled chiseled marble. His full lips that even as he slept, held a knowing teasing smirk. His personality enticed as well, his brutal honesty, loyalty to a fault, humor, quick wit, and his willingness to defend those around him regardless of the consequences to himself. All of these qualities made her mind spin with confusion.
As sleep began to pull her under, one thought remained. ”When did Spike go from a mere thought to my only thought?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Alright kiddies, sit back and enjoy the next chapter to my little tale! Big thanks to sanityfair and pixiecorn, you know for what!!!
Chapter End Notes:
Let me know whatcha think? Reviews, of any kind feed the muse!!! Oh, by the way All4Spike...get out of my head!!!LOL!!! that's the second time you've seen what was coming! I guess great minds do think alike!
Also, a little self premotion, if you enjoy major spuffyness, check out my new fic Unlocking Ecstasy and for those that are following My Lady in Waiting another chapter will be coming this week...I promise!
Also, a little self premotion, if you enjoy major spuffyness, check out my new fic Unlocking Ecstasy and for those that are following My Lady in Waiting another chapter will be coming this week...I promise!