The restaurant was French and as cozy and romantic as any girl could wish. Buffy watched Spike fidget with his silverware across their candlelit table and grinned. Maybe they both felt a little like kids playing dress up.
“Have I mentioned that you look beautiful, Buffy? You do, you know?”
“You did, but it’s still nice to hear.” He looked good too. Different, but good. She wondered if his black slacks and grey button-down shirt were as new as her blue wrap dress. The sharp fold lines in his shirt seemed to indicate that it was.
She’d told him half a dozen times that she didn’t need a fancy meal, but she couldn’t deny the warm feeling in her stomach now that they were there. Not every guy would go to so much trouble. Buffy reached over and put her hand on his. “I’m a little nervous about later, but I think you might be more nervous than I am. Maybe you should order a drink or something. I can always drive us back.”
Spike’s eyes bulged a little, as though he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Male pride was a tricky thing. Finally his shoulders started shaking and laughter like ricochet cut the stuffy quiet of the room. Still fighting to catch his breathe and control his amusement, he leaned toward her. “You’re too bloody cute to be real, kitten.”
Their waiter, an older man with freshly-starched white apron, appeared a few seconds later to deliver the sparkling water they’d requested and take their order.
“For the young lady?”
“La salade d'artichaut et aspergeset la velouté de champignons, s'il vous plaît.”
“Excellente, Miss. Vous parlez français?”
“Seulement un peu et mon accent est atroce.”
“Pas du tout.” He smiled encouragingly before turning toward Spike. “And for the gentleman? Sir?”
Spike frowned. “Oh right. The mussels you mentioned before and a scotch, rocks.”
“Very good.” The waiter dipped his head toward them both and walked away.
“You speak French?”
Buffy’s face warmed under his gaze. “Not very well, but I took it all four years in high school.”
Spike nodded and toyed with his napkin. “Wow.” His head bobbed up and down a few times. “Well it sounded pretty good to me.”
He wasn’t making eye contact. Her stomach churned. What just happened? “Spike?”
“Never took out a girl who could chat up folks in French before. That’s--uh--I’m just a mechanic, you know?”
How could such an incredible man be insecure? “You’re not just anything to me.”
He sighed and grinned sort of sheepishly. “I know, kitten. I guess I’m still just trying to wrap my head around that.”
His eyes were still focused on the table.
“There is no try. Only do.” She announced.
He looked up, his eyes narrowed. “Are you quoting Yoda?”
“I thought that was from The Karate Kid.” She shrugged. “It works either way. I love you and not a little bit but in this big, all-consuming, can’t stop smiling when I think about you way.”
He laughed softly. “Still gonna have translate the bloody menu for me next time. I had to order the special just to be sure I wasn’t getting frog.”
“Deal.” ******************************************************************************
They stumbled a little, kissing, as Spike unlocked the door and ushered her inside. As soon as the door shut behind them, Buffy pulled the front of his shirt free from his pants. Finally! Nerves what nerves? Frustration was much, much louder than her measly nerves.
“Just a sec, love.” He gripped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
She groaned. “Spike we waited, we did the fancy dinner and now--”
He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, hard. “Give me four minutes. Here.” He pushed his keys into her hand. “You can lock the door or get a drink or whatever. Just stay out here for four minutes.”
Buffy locked the front door, using the knob, and placed his keys and her clutch on the counter. She glanced at his bedroom door. What was he doing? She checked the clock on the microwave. Had it been a minute yet?
She considered taking off her dress. That would bold and sexy, wouldn’t it? She was wearing lingerie, a pale pink corset and matching panties that had cost twice as much as the dress. Spike had seemed so concerned with making everything perfect, it had only seemed fair that she do her part. Now, standing alone in the dark and with nothing to do but over-think it all, she was having second thoughts. Maybe the pink was too...innocent. There was a red one at the shop. Should she have gotten that one? Or maybe lingerie in general was over-the-top. Getting into the corset certainly hadn’t been sexy. What if getting it off was just as awkward? What was he even doing in there?
“Spike!”
He popped out of his bedroom instantly. “What’s wrong, love?” He took in the room with a quick glance and frowned.
“Why am I standing in your kitchen?”
He chuckled and stepped toward her. “Impatient little thing aren’t you?”
“I don’t need everything to be some perfect picture of...perfectness. I just want to be with you.”
His fingertips slid across her cheek before pushing into her hair. “But you deserve--”
“It’s too much pressure. It’s too much pressure on both of us. All night it’s been a little like we’re playing the parts of a couple about to have sex instead of just being us. I like us.”
Spike sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “Right. You’re right, kitten. God, how are you so bloody smart, huh?”
“Just born that way I guess.”
Spike took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Well, let’s see how you feel about this then.”
“What?”
He tugged her hand lightly and led her into his room.
Candles. There had to be at least two dozen candles scattered around the room. All but a couple were lit, giving the room a warm glow.
He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Too much?”
“It’s...kinda perfect.”
“How about music? I have some Van Morrison queued up on my player. I didn’t think of it before and I’m pretty sure that’s the most romantic stuff I’ve got. I--”
“That sounds perfect too.”
“Too perfect?”
She turned toward him. “No. It’s perfect perfect.”
Spike reached over and hit play without breaking eye contact. “Now then...about this dress…” He toyed with ends of the belt tied around her waist as the soulful melody of Crazy Love floated around them.
“You don’t like my dress?” Buffy untied her belt, undid the hidden button and opened her dress like it was nothing more than a robe. She wriggled her shoulders and let the dress fall to the floor. Buffy glanced up at Spike’s face and her nerves melted away entirely. His pupils had dilated and his mouth hung open.
“I..fuck…”
“You like?”
He nodded solemnly. “Yeah, kitten. I like.” He stepped behind her, lifted her hair and pressed his warm, soft lips to her shoulder. His voice dropped low. “Promise you’ll wear this for me again?” His mouth brushed the side of her neck. He traced the shell of her ear with his nose.
Buffy trembled.“Yeah?” Her knees shook.
Spike’s hand slid around her waist, his thumb skimming the underside of her satin-covered breast before his fingers splayed covering her stomach. She was hot, nerves danced deep in her gut fanning the flames of her need for him. Buffy leaned her back against Spike’s chest and he pressed closer. The smooth, cool fabric of his pants rubbed the back of her thighs.
“MmHmm.” He nipped her earlobe. “Makes you look like a Christmas present.” Spike twirled the end of the ribbon that laced up the front of her corset around his finger. “Have I been a good boy this year, Buffy?”
He gave the ribbon a firm tug, undoing the bow she’d painstakingly tied earlier that evening. “There are hooks in the back, that might be--”
“Shh. Let me do it my way. Better to unwrap you bit by pretty little bit.” Spike slid a single finger underneath the loop the ribbon made between the top two eyelets and pulled it away from her body. He rubbed his cheek against hers. “One down.”
If he took his hand off her stomach, she’d collapse. He was the only thing keeping her upright. She was certain if he stepped back she’d simply melt. Buffy covered his hand with one of hers and threaded their fingers. “Don’t stop.”
“Because you want to let me look at you. Because you’re for me?” A touch of awe tinted his cocky tone as he drew the ribbon from the next set of eyelets.
“Yes.”
Spike freed another loop of ribbon...and then another. “My girl, my Buffy. So sweet, I want to eat you up--want to kiss every piece of you--taste your lips and your skin.” He lowered his hand, still covered with hers, and cupped her sex. “All of you.” He quickly pulled the ribbon free from the rest of the eyelets. The corset hung open, held against her back by nothing more that the pressure of his chest against her. He brought one hand up to cover her breast. “It looks like I was a very good boy.”
Shivers of excitement raced down her spine.“You’re always good to me.”
“Have you been thinking about this?” He slipped two fingers beneath the ruffled edge of her underwear so he could caress her bare skin. “Have you been imagining what my cock will feel when like I’m buried deep inside you?”
“Yes.” The memory of a week’s worth of vivid fantasies brought heat to her cheeks. She shifted, pressing herself into his touch. How could his fingers ease and increase her need at the very same moment?
“And how have you been picturing it, kitten?” He kissed her temple and rested his forehead against her hair. His breath was hot along the back of her neck.
“Umm...good.”
Spike gave a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, I’m counting on that too.” He pulled her corset free and dropped it onto his dresser before spinning her around.
“Oh!” Buffy looped her arms around his neck to steady herself.
“But I was looking for details.” He bent slightly at the waist and scooped her into his arms. “Are you on top or am I? Is there anything you’d like me to do...or say?”
Spike carried her the three steps to his bed and laid her down. He trailed his fingertips from her left knee down to her ankle then sat on the edge of the mattress to remove her shoes.
Buffy rose on her elbows and watched him place her silver heels gently on the floor.
His gaze slid over her as he stood up and he smiled. “I’m not trying to push or tease you into saying something dirty.” He grinned at her skeptical expression. “Not sayin’ I won’t do that later. Just--you only get one first go, right? If there’s anything you need from me--”
“You love me, right?” She hoped it sounded more like a statement than a question.
His eyes widened. “More than anything.”
“I think that’s all I need--well--and for you take off that shirt.”
Spike unbuttoned the top couple buttons on his shirt and reached over his head and tugged it, and his undershirt, off in one smooth movement. “That’s it?”
Buffy nodded. The sight of him still knocked her breathe from her chest. His skin...his shape...he was too beautiful.
He toed off his shoes and placed his hands on the foot of the bed. “Goldilocks is about to get eaten all up by the big bad wolf.”
“I think you mean Little Red--” She froze, words forgotten.
Spike was crawling up the bed. Crawling like some kind of sexy man-beast, all long sinewy muscles and smooth skin. He paused to drop a kiss on her ankle.
Her heart skipped a beat, watching him angling his head just so and lowering his mouth to brush his warm lips over her ankle bone. Spike looked back up, his eyes alight with mischief and an intensity she could only identify as love and Buffy made time freeze. She had to save this moment--had to preserve and catalog the mental image of this beautiful man, the fluttering in her stomach, the ache between her thighs, the absolute certainty that he was the one she wanted to share herself with. She wanted to remember this forever. She would remember this forever and she’d need every detail.
He kneeled between her feet and kept his too-blue eyes on hers as he dragged the pink satin thong she’d spent thirty minutes selecting and two days worrying about down her legs and over her feet. He dropped it to the floor and licked his lips. His mouth made her weak. Just the sight of his smirking lips and curling tongue had her throbbing. And wet. He made her wet. How deliciously dirty was that?
She reached out to him with both hands and tugged him up the length of her body so their mouths could meet. Spike kissed her like only he could, until her toes curled and coherent thought was nothing more than a hazy memory. Buffy pushed her fingers through his thick hair and down the back of his neck as he settled his body over hers. “I like this,” she whispered. “I like being able to look into your eyes and I like being able to hold you.”
Spike balanced his weight on one elbow and touched her cheek. “I like that too,” he said, matching her whispered tone. He slid his hand down to her shoulder and over her collarbone. “You are...so pretty.” He shook his head and sighed.
“What?”
“I’m still not sure how I managed to resist crawling after you and begging for scraps that first time you came by the shop, cookie girl.”
“You’re a good man. I mean--it was dumb, but you were trying to be noble or something and that’s sweet.”
“Sweet? I’m sweet now?” Spike groaned. His chin dropped against his chest and he rested his forehead on hers. “You’ve broken me, kitten.”
“Do you really think that?” Buffy rubbed her hands down his back, her fingertips skimming the ridge of his spine before coming to a rest at the small of his back.
He lifted his head and tapped his nose against hers. “No. No, I’m teasing. I--I think maybe you’ve made me a whole man.”
Buffy inhaled a shaky breath. Her heart was so full it hurt. Words seemed too small--too imprecise to express the totality of her emotions. Instead, she pressed her lips to his lips and arched her body up to meet his body. Sometimes, she suddenly realized, there aren’t enough words or enough minutes in the day to tell how very much you feel and you have to show it--you have to be it.
Spike slid his hand between their bodies, his knuckles teased her stomach as he worked to removed his belt and unbutton his slacks with one hand. The sound of his zipper pulled a sigh of relief from somewhere deep inside her. She’d only known him for a few months, but it felt like she’d been waiting for this, with him, for years. Buffy helped push his pants over his hips and used her feet to shove them down his legs. They tangled around his feet and the temporary awkwardness of removing them made Spike growl. A giggle of pure delight bubbled up and Buffy didn’t bother hiding it.
“Oh yeah?”
“Definitely.”
Spike chuckled softly. “Brat.” He kissed her chin, the tip of her nose and the spot just below her ear that always made her knees go weak. He braced himself on one arm and reached across the bed to the bedside table to pluck a condom from the little bowl on top. “Just so I’m ready when you’re ready.”
He ripped the package open with his teeth, switched arms and slid it on with one hand.
Impressive. The man knows what he’s doing. Unlike, say ...me. The not knowing sucked. Knowing that other women knew...had known with Spike even...that sucked even more. Frustration,jealousy, nerves, love--it was all a jumble. Buffy rubbed her hands up and down his back. “Spike?”
Spike tossed the wrapper on the floor and settled his elbows on either side of her shoulders. He smiled down at her. “Yeah, love?”
“Now. I’m ready now.”
“I thought maybe I’d give you a bit of a warm up. You do like it when I--”
Buffy pulled his mouth to hers for a hard kiss and hooked her leg over his hip. “I need you.”
His fingers gripped her hip tightly as he pressed inside, stretching and filling her with one firm movement.
She gasped. It didn’t hurt. All the talk she’d heard, all the minutes worrying, and then no pain. It was awkward. It was certainly awkward, the sensation of being pinned to the bed and...invaded, but it wasn’t really pain.
“Fuck,” Spike whispered.
“What’s--”
“Are you ready, love? Tryin’ to give you time, but fuck--you feel like heaven.” He rubbed his cheek against her forehead like a cat saying ‘mine’, then pushed up on his elbows. “Hey there cutie, look at me.”
Buffy blinked hard and tried to focus on his eyes. The strain of holding himself back was clear on his face, but so was the love.“I’m good.” She nodded and stroked his shoulder.
“Good. Nice and slow then. Eyes on me.” He chose a slow, steady rhythm and began rocking. Out. Back in. Out again. Home again.
“Oh.” The familiar ache--the building, burning need started in her stomach.
“That’s it, kitten.” Perspiration made his hair curl and his forehead shine. “Now meet me half-way. Lift your hips. Push into me.”
She did. The first try was off beat and the second was too. She grinned when she finally found the rhythm--their rhythm.
“That’s it...fuck..so good.” He reached down and held her hip as he moved faster.
Buffy echoed him. “Good.” It was. Faster was really--really good--and when she lifted her hips his body met hers at just the right spot. Again and again. And that was even better than good.
Spike’s gaze was intense, completely focused on hers. To Buffy, the uninterrupted eye-contact seemed every bit as intimate as any other part. She resisted the urge to close her eyes or look away. She wanted all of him, even if it meant baring every part of herself too.
He was getting close.. His nostrils flared. His grip on her hip tightened.
She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I..” She didn’t have the words.
“You’re mine.” His voice was rough. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
He thrust harder, filled her deeper than she’d thought possible, and came with her name on his lips. “Buffy.”
She combed her fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss on his bottom lip.
Breathing hard and fast, he collapsed alongside her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Fuck. That was--I’m sorry, kitten. I thought I’d last longer. I should have made sure you were ready.”
“I was ready.”
“To come. I should have warmed you up better. You deserved--but I bollocks it.”
“No you didn’t.” She rolled on to her side and pulled back so she could see his face.
“I know what you look like when you come. You didn’t, love. I bollocks it up.”
She gave a breathy laugh. “That’s crazy.” She caught his face between her palms. “Are you leaving? Or kicking me out of bed?”
“Of course not!” He looked horrified. “ I’m gonna--”
“So the night’s not even over. Catch your breath. You can do that later. That’s not the main part.”
“Yeah it is. For me, taking care of my girl is the main bloody part.” He shook his head. “I can do better. I promise.”
“You did take care of me, William. You made me feel...loved.”
“I do love you, baby. I--” He stopped abruptly and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply.
When he pulled back, Buffy smiled. “So it was good. It was really, really good.”
“You’re sure? And you’re okay? Do you umm...need anything?”
“I’m good. I--I had sex, Spike, not...surgery.” She shook her head. He was sweet, weird, but sweet.
“Good. Brilliant.” He nodded a few times before grinning. “Why don’t you lie back then and we can see how many licks it takes to get to the center of my girl.”
Seventeen.
It took seventeen.
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