[Reviews - 199]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2020 times

- Text Size +




AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this chapter is mostly smut, and i know im a little late again... I also know I promised I wouldn't be, so I am so sorry!! It's just that Halloween is more busy for my family than almost any other holiday (strange, I know) and I've been very preoccupied. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait a little bit. And thanks for reading and reviewing! :) *hugs*

Happy Halloween everybody!
______________________________

Buffy curled into the solid mass by her side, burying her head deeper beneath the blanket and fighting off wakefulness. She was warm, content, and not a single muscle was ready to be stretched.

She shifted closer to the thing wrapped around her like a cool sheet, humming when she felt a light touch on her shoulder that started a tingle over her skin. Something- No, an arm. Someone's arm pulled her closer, into the comfort of her pillow.

That pillow was Spike.

Buffy's eyes shot open, memories from the night before lancing like fresh lightening into her tired mind. She felt Spike's chest beneath her cheek, his lips at the crown of her hair. Heat spread quicker than wildfire, and with it came a heavy sense of... belonging. Belonging and happiness. And there was just enough luxurious sensuality leftover to bring a blush to her cheeks.

She closed her eyes and shifted yet closer, becoming aware of a foreign soreness in her body. "Oh, definitely foreign,* she thought to herself, and her thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

Spike touched her ribcage and then trailed down to the indent of her waist. He squeezed with a possessive hand, and said, "S'a bit late to pretend you're asleep, love. I saw your eyes pop open."

There was fondness and warmth in his voice; Buffy still wanted to lie in her comfortable cloud nine state for awhile. She pressed her face closer to his body, making a sound that answered him in no way, and glided her cheek up to rest by his throat. She felt him swallow.

"Did you sleep well?" he said.

"Wanna sleep more." His voice had been gravelly, but Buffy's was worse, and she had a feeling it didn't sound the least bit sexy like his did. Her throat felt like there was a rope tied around the inside of it.

She allowed him to wrap their legs together, his hand tracing her hip. Spike breathed her in and couldn't prevent a lazy smile.

She smelled like him; as primitive as the notion was, it was true. Her skin and hair, the latter still slightly damp, smelled like his soap. And there was an overlay of sweet, taken female that surrounded her like an imprint. His fingers found themselves caressing in soft circles, and they roamed around to the base of her spine to touch and play.

She shivered suddenly, and he frowned. "Are you cold?"

She just barely shook her head. "N-No. It's the way you're touching me."

His hand twitched after he realized how stupid his question had been, and Buffy's simple quiet words set fire to his cold blood. He swallowed hard and asked, "How're you feelin?"

She smiled softly. "Not bad."

His fingers glided gently along the smooth skin of her inner thigh; he didn't know when they'd gotten there. "Your throat?"

"Not the best," Buffy answered honestly, "but I'll be okay."

He scowled, and took a glance at her neck. The dark marks made his jaw clench, unacknowledged was the fist his fingers had curled into.

He remembered the tea and healing salve, the things he SHOULD have made sure Buffy received by now.

That hadn't happened. And he realized that his own selfish needs were the reason. Ace probably hadn't even set foot on his way upstairs last night. The entire group no doubt knew exactly what had happened only hours before in this room.

Spike didn't try to fight the proud grin that came to his lips. He tightened his arm around Buffy instead. She was a sleepy bundle in his arms, and he reveled in that fact.

This beautiful, vibrant girl trusted him, knowing what he was. She rested peacefully, half asleep and right within the reach of his fangs, completely relaxed. Her heart drummed gently in her warm body, long pliant limbs wrapped around his body, dainty feet between his calves... Spike pulled her closer still.

He'd slept sounder than he ever had last night, his girl's breathing pulling him into slumber better than a lullaby. She was safe, and she was all his.

Spike looked at her neck once more as he felt her relax even more, but he tensed again in remembered anger. When she was his mate- which she would be someday -no vamp or demon would dare touch her. Not unless they had bravery to go along with supreme stupidity. His mark- the claim of a powerful vampire -would warn off threats. Buffy would get a little stronger, too, and become immortal.

Until then, any supernatural animals with a nose would scent her- And then him on her.

She couldn't move without him surrounding her now. Humans might be ignorant, but not the demon community. A heightened sense of smell would prove her as taken now. She belonged to someone. She belonged to him.

She mumbled sleepily when his hand trailed downward and touched the back of her knee, bending it to raise her leg higher over his own. He wanted to slip inside her again.

It would be so easy. She would accept him, Buffy was warm and receptive, but he knew that so soon after the first time meant she'd be sore.

He felt her sigh against his neck; like sifted flour falling, his restraint was falling apart.

He looked down at her body, outlined enticingly beneath the cool blanket he'd draped over them both last night. His hand wrapped around one slender upper arm, dragging down slowly, bringing another shiver to her body. Buffy whispered his name against his skin, and that was it.

Powerless, Spike's hand travelled to her thigh again, touching every tantalizing inch of skin he dared along the way. Lush and tender, the heat from her core scorched him. She wriggled in his arms, and her legs opened for him.

She might not be quite ready to take him inside again yet, but there was something he'd been craving for too long and it would cause her no pain. Unless you counted the type he'd be feeling when she was pulling on his hair in a few minutes.

Anticipating, imagining seeing her fingers claw through the sheets, Spike moved his hand gently over her wet heat until Buffy opened her eyes.

She expressed her question through a look, and her own gasp was the answer.

He circled her clit with the heel of his hand, several times, until she was writhing. Their eyes locked as Spike toyed with her; he could feel the burn beneath her skin as surely as if it was his own.

Whimpering harshly into the air, Buffy let Spike pull her forward and over him, her breasts pressing against his chest. She felt limp as he very gently urged a finger into her tender body, touching intimately enough to make her squirm on his lap as he watched her like a king awaiting payment. She tried to ignore the excitement, the sensations in her stomach, as those bright blue eyes stared at her, but became a willing ragdoll when he kissed her neck.

His tongue made her think of ice and fire at once, and her skin reacted in turn to the stimulation. The sensations his fingers created had Buffy digging into his shoulders. Then his mouth wandered down further, licking flame into her muscles until she could feel her own wetness on her thighs and didn't care. He wouldn't move any faster. He kept touching her slowly, repeatedly, different motions but all equally torturous; and she was ready to kill him when his lips started moving down her abdomen.

"What are you doing to me?" she croaked. She hated that her voice was barely even a voice, but either way, Spike didn't answer her. He just kept getting lower, and lower, and lower...

His hand left her, and he bowed her back until she met the bed. Unable to do anything but feel, and not sure if she cared or not at this point what he did to her, Buffy raised herself into his kisses; she didn't think to ask when his tongue went below her belly button.

Only when his mouth made direct contact with her cleft did she realize what he was doing.

She tried to protest for only a second- out of nerves, out of surprise -but was cut off from herself by pure pleasure. His tongue stroked her in full, wrapping around her clit as abruptly as he grabbed her hips; Buffy's body lurched at the same moment.

Her breaths were coming in and out sharp; her heartbeat thrummed into her breastbone like waves against a dam. She saw Spike looking at her from the place between her spread legs, eyes of fiery ice that made her shiver.

He stared at her, his gaze roaming greedily as he took in pointed nipples, the wetness on his tongue hardening him and assaulting his senses. He bit at the flesh around her cleft, then lapped at her with his tongue again, holding her down the entire time. The sounds above him- of enjoyment, and desperate want - drove him on. His demon was screaming to be released, wanting to sink fangs into the flawless length of thigh by his cheek and mark it, hopelessly, permanently, as his.

Instead he ate at her, drawing sighs and milky sobs from her throat as heaven poured onto his taste buds. He needed to feel her juices around him again, and brought two fingers to her opening and slipped them inside. She tossed her head and clenched her hands in the sheets, hoarsely whispering his name once again.

Spike slowly, firmly, licked and tasted her pouting clit. He grinned up into her begging green eyes, his desire leaping as she began to lose herself. Her breaths came faster still.

One strong, dainty hand unclenched from the bed sheet, and Spike saw it trailing towards him. Honey on his lips, suddenly jealous of his own bloody fingers, Spike removed his touch to replace it with a much more greedy appendage. His tongue dipped and swirled, entering her in one deep stroke. He felt and gloried in every taste and texture, and every lurch of Buffy's hips that he had to hold down when her hands finally wove harshly into his hair.

From then on, Buffy knew he was a ravenous man bent on killing her.

Spike growled and bit, sucked and then laved; gentle one moment, harsh the next. Her legs stiffened, and her eyes slammed shut as a wave pulsed through her. Every limb tensed, her hearing disappeared. Her neck arched back so far she could see the doorway of the bedroom if she opened her eyes, and her throat burned when she yelped in release.

Gasping, finally replete, her palms fell open. She realized idly that she'd been gripping Spike's head a moment before and looked down just in time to watch him prowl over her. There was a little nerve jumping at his throat and it was how she noticed his jaw was clenched. His supple lips were shiny from tasting her, from making her cum hard enough Buffy swore she'd almost seen those proverbial stars.

She raised a tired hand up to his face, and was just about to lean up and kiss him when he pulled her into his arms. She was flung over and found herself beneath him again, then her lips were smashed in a frenzy. She calmly gave in to the assault, glorying in his want of her. When he finished with her, her lips were swollen and red, she could feel it.

He was filled with control and tenderness, possessiveness sat in his eyes next to fierce longing. She wished he would make love to her again, and couldn't figure out why he was denying himself- Denying the both of them.

He rolled onto his side and sat up, then bent and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, closed off but open at the same time. Her heart beat faster.

He pulled back again and Buffy started to ask why when his hand dug beneath the blanket and found her where she still gently throbbed, rubbing softly. She winced at the contact.

Understanding dawned at just about the same time he said, "I want to be inside you more than anythin right now. But I'm not about to hurt you, so rest some more."

She frowned hard at that last bit of information. Rest? She could, her eyelids already felt droopy, but-

"Sleep's good for healin," he explained, seeing her confusion. With a feather-light touch, Spike ran his fingertips over her bruises. "It'll help with these..." he gave her a little smile, "and the other thing"

Spike thought she might try and argue with him- and enough arguing and he'd be balls deep in heaven before either of them realized it -but then she just nodded, and questioningly laid her hand on his chest. He didn't like her hesitancy, even though he knew her reason was considerate and valid enough; but he never wanted her unsure of how much he loved her touch. He tugged her fully against him, and though he was tense and his body was on fire, every nerve a combustible packet ready to burst, he still relaxed a bit when Buffy's body fell into his. She became heavy and soft, sleepy, and began drifting in his arms within a minute.

He tightened his hold, allowing torture and contentment to combine.

***

Ace didn't even knock. All Spike knew, after almost an hour of holding his girl, of finally bringing himself somewhere out from under the agony of unfulfilled craving- but in no way free of it -two of his friends just bounded in.

Actually, they walked in calmly, their footsteps neither muffled nor rushed; he should've heard them. Spike realized that he'd been a little distracted with Buffy in his hands, his eyes trained on her face, to notice much of anything else, but this was ridiculous.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" It wasn't a roar, but the threat was implied. He sat up straight and half blocked Buffy's sleeping form with his body, glaring at the intrusive two.

Blake and Ace looked at each other, then at Spike again; they wisely kept their gazes focused on the vampire. "It's one in the afternoon," Ace started, "and while that's not exactly late for any of us, everyone else is up and-"

"And we thought you might be torturing her up here," Blake interjected, his eyes twinkling slightly. "You've had all night. We were starting to get worried."

Ace sighed. "Stop being an ass."

"I'm not being an ass."

Spike grit his teeth and looked behind him as the two morons started bickering. He noticed the blanket was bunched high over Buffy's leg and her chest was almost exposed, so he pulled the covering up quickly and tucked it around her. At the sound of a throat clearing, he turned back to the men at his door; he felt his patience wearing even thinner.

"We just wanted to see if you guys were ready to get out of bed," Ace explained as Spike's anger became apparent.

He rose an eyebrow. "M'ready for you gits to leave."

"Dylan thinks he found a picture of the Gem, and Stevo has a good theory about why the fight last night got so brutal."

"It was a fight," Spike said with irritation.

"But why were there so many of those little fuckers?" Blake asked. He slapped a hand down on Ace's shoulder and rubbed it roughly. "They gave our buddy here a sore muscle," he said with fake sympathy. Ace shrugged him off and rolled his eyes.

The vampire swiftly turned his head at the sound of Buffy's groggy voice calling out his name. His jaw clenched, and he faced his friends again. "You're wakin her up. We'll be down later, now get out."

"How much later?" Ace questioned softly.

"When we feel like it," Spike growled.

Blake gave a tilt of his head, pointedly fixing his stare on Buffy's rising, sleepy form. His dark eyebrows rose high. "No wonder you don't wanna come downstairs, I'd lock myself in a room with her any day."

Ace was pushing him towards the door before Spike's roar threatened to reverberate throughout the whole room, but not before Buffy realized fully that others were nearby. Her eyes widened, her knees tucked up and a splash of scarlet ran over her cheeks as she held the blanket up high. She hiked it up to her chin.

Spike flung an arm out and in front of her, his palm flattened on the bed sheet as he blocked her from view; she was grateful. Blake caught sight of the move, and smiled widely after staring for a moment too long. "Spike calm down, she's covered," he chuckled.

That didn't cool the vampire any. Ace pushed Blake towards the open doorway again as Spike's growl turned into a sharp snarl. "I knew I should've brought Dylan up with me."

Blake turned around, fighting Ace's hands just enough to poke his head into view of the bed again. "Oh, I see a shoulder! I see a shoulder!"

Buffy looked on worriedly as Spike pounced off the bed and slammed the door on Blake's laughter. She quickly covered the shoulder which had been the last proverbial straw as he turned around; she blinked at him in question.

He strode back to the bed- She kept her stare elevated -and climbed up beside her. Spike wasted no time in pulling her into his arms and ripping the sheet down to expose her torso. Just as quickly, before she could so much as gasp, he had her breasts pressed to his chest as he recovered their touching bodies.

"What-"

"They said everyone was up, just wanted to know if we'd be out a bed soon." Spike brushed his hand over her tousled hair, roaming down to cup her cheek. "I told em we'd be down when we felt like it."

Buffy swallowed and rested her head on his shoulder. Her cheeks were aflame with color but it was diminishing. She was just glad she'd had the blanket when Ace and Blake had come in. She'd have to talk to Spike about getting a lock for his bedroom door.

The blush returned. If she did that, it would be implying that she planned on being naked in this very room often in the future, maybe using it as her own at some point... She gulped.

The idea was a nice one, she liked being with Spike, she felt content in his arms. And it was apparent that she couldn't bother worrying about the guys knowing "too much," because they already did. But again, this brought her back to the fact she didn't want them seeing her naked.

Spike didn't either, obviously. He'd gone from normal to growly in a heartbeat just now, and then back to being loving and "hands-on" as soon as Blake and Ace had left. Yeah, a lock would be a nice thing.

Right now, Buffy just accepted the reprieve Spike gave her, the pleasure she felt from simply being with him. His arms were wrapped around her like a cocoon, trailing magical little patterns over her skin that soothed and heated at once.

Magick. Buffy blinked her eyes open, a frown on her features. She hadn't worn the bracelet last night. It was back at home, on her dresser, waiting for her to pick it up and put it on right before she headed to bed. Wearing the little amber stone that brought peace in slumber had become a nightly ritual for her, yet she'd had no bad dreams last night.

It must have been because of Spike's presence, she realized belatedly. He'd kept her nightmares away that one time when he'd found her on the floor, a makeshift dream catcher. Now he'd done it again.

Buffy smiled.

Then, as abrupt as a rocket launch, she shot up in bed.

Spike was asking her what was wrong when she scrambled out from under the blanket, away from him, and bolted for the bathroom. He followed her, worry in his tone as he repeated himself.

Buffy had forgotten all about Grams, and Anne was probably worried out of her mind.

Crap, where was her bag? She had to have brought it up here. She found her jeans and started to put them on, ignoring her commando state. Spike's voice pierced through the frantic condition of her mind, just before he spun her around and stared into her eyes. "What the hell is wrong?" he demanded.

"Grams." Her voice was still a croak, and it made it harder to get out her jumbled thoughts. "I- I didn't- I forgot to tell her I wouldn't be home!"

"Relax," he said, a soft frown on his face, as if there really wasn't anything wrong, "I contacted her last night after you fell asleep."

Buffy blinked, once, twice. She shook her head and asked, "You did what?!"

Spike looked away, then gathered his thoughts and explained. "I wasn't sure if she had a cell phone, but I checked yours and decided to text her."

"You texted my grandmother?" She frowned, hard.

Spike shrugged sheepishly. "Didn' think you'd want me callin her... Might scare the lady to death thinkin you'd been abducted or something."

"So you sent her a text message?" Buffy wasn't sure her Grams knew what a text message was.

"Surprisingly, it worked." Spike offered a half smile. "She said to have a good time at your 'impromptu sleepover.'" He waggled his eyebrows. "Think we accomplished that, Goldilocks?"

She fought down the shiver that presented itself when he lifted a lock of her hair and fingered it gently, the strands wrapping like silk around his touch. Buffy suddenly raised her arms over her exposed torso, covering herself, and stepped closer to him.

Somehow, beneath the blood starting to race in her veins, she managed to ask where her phone and bag were. Spike took her hand and lead her over to the other side of the bedroom. Five minutes later she found out, that sure enough, Grams did know what a text was.

Buffy scoffed softly, and dropped her phone back inside her bag. "I can't believe you remembered to contact my grandmother even when I didn't."

He smiled, not without satisfaction, and said, "You were a little distracted. 'Sides, she knows you're safe, which is the important thing. Right?"

She nodded, and wrapped her arms around his lean torso, hugging tightly. "Thank you."

He kissed her hair, and pressed Buffy in closer. "You're welcome, pet."

Spike hugged her back, let his heart feel the lightness inside, and prayed, for the first time since he was human, that he never lost her.

"I love you."





You must login (register) to review.