Chapter 22
She should have been cold. Shivering. He had no body heat to give; neither did the cold stones of the crypt, even with the orange glow of the candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. And yet the touch of his hands on the bare skin of her lower back made her feel feverish, as though a heat wave was rolling through her body.
“Spike,” she whispered against his jaw, trailing open-mouthed kissed down his arched throat. “Want to touch you.”
“You are though,” he said, and maybe it was just her imagination but she heard that little catch in his voice.
“But you’re all covered up.” She tugged his T-shirt out of the belted waistband of his jeans and slid her hands right under, sucking his earlobe into her mouth.
“Slayer,” he said, in a way that made her want to leave marks all over his skin. He said it in the same way he’d say her name; with that passionate tenderness. He loves all parts of me, the good and the bad, the strong and the weak.
Funny how someone without a soul could love better than anyone else she’d ever met.
“I love you,” she whispered, hands curling into his messy hair.
With a hungry growl, he abruptly stood up, gripping her thighs and claiming her mouth in a kiss that left her panting for breath embarrassingly fast.
“What are y—”
“Trust me,” he said as he moved toward the back of the crypt and then they were falling through a hole, her stomach swooping up into her chest somewhere, her eyes closed.
The impact was smooth, and came sooner than she’d expected. It smelled like burned wax and earth and Spike.
“Where are we?” It was pitch dark and all she could see was the golden gleam of Spike’s eyes, feel the sharp edge of his cheekbone against her cheek when she hugged him closer.
“Lower level of the crypt. ‘S nice in here. Got some… umm… furniture, too.”
One moment he was holding her, setting her down on something soft, and the next he was gone. She tried not to let it get to her, this sudden feeling of being left alone in the middle of nothing. “Am I sitting on a bed then? Isn’t that kinda presumptuous?”
Even though she was teasing, she could imagine him rubbing the back of his neck as he did whenever he’d get all bashful. Spike and bashful was something she’d never have thought could go hand in hand. Only, it did. Sometimes. She thought she might like those moments the best because he trusted her enough to let her see the parts of him no one else got to see.
“Comfiest place in here,” he said and she heard the click of the lighter before she saw the flame flare to life, the warm light shattering off the angles of his face. Her retort died in her throat. It was stupid that it hit it her like this, so suddenly. How beautiful he was, even as a demon.
“Never thought I’d end up showing it to you, what with not wanting you to stake me in my sleep and all,” he told her, golden eyes turning blue.
“You’re beautiful, you know?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and he looked up at her from where he’d been lighting the candles, his eyes a little bit wide. “Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it?”
He set the lighter down and approached her, not with his usual swagger, but with something that felt a little more exposed, more vulnerable.
“Someone’s got to be the Beauty in this relationship. Guess, that would make you the Beast then.” He gave her a lopsided grin as he came to stand between her knees, smoothing her hair away from her face. And even though he was joking it all off as he always did, his eyes still held a note of solemnity.
“I do scare the baddies away,” she agreed, resting her forehead against his chest. And even though his heart didn’t beat, his chest would rise and fall sometimes, as though he’d just remembered to breathe.
“Reckon it’s a good thing I don’t scare easy.”
“Unless it’s tampons.”
“There’s an exception to every rule. That is one of them.”
“That’s because you’re a… a sissy!” She smiled, proud of herself. Just because she was in love with him didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy making fun of him anymore, even if the jibes had lost their malicious edge.
His hand that had been playing with her hair stilled, his tongue flicked out to lick his lips, a challenge in his eyes. “A sissy, you say?”
She stuck her chin up, fisted the front of his T-shirt to pull him closer. Show me what you’ve got. “You heard me… sissy.”
His hand tightened in her hair, pulled until she was arching back, all open and I trust you, his lips soft and careful as they travelled up the length of her neck. “Want to say that again?”
“Sissy,” she whispered right before he slotted his mouth against hers, hot and hungry all at once, his tongue stroking hers in that lazy, thorough way that turned her bones liquid.
As Spike gripped the hem of her T-shirt and whipped it over her head, he wondered if he’d ever stop being this needy, stop aching this much for the taste of her, for the familiar gentle pressure of her lips and the scalding heat of her skin under his fingertips.
“Shirt… off.”
“What?” he asked, struggling to think with all the blood rushing south of his brain.
She tugged at the bottom of his T-shirt, her pupils blown wide, eyelashes casting shadows in the hollows under her eyes. He loved the way she looked in candle light, all soft and pliant and smooth, flushed skin. “Off?”
The way she looked at him when he pulled his tee over his head and let it drop to the floor was eerily similar to the way she’d watch him scoop chocolate chip ice cream out of a tub. Her arms were around him before he could say bloody hell, her mouth sucking a bruise right under his collarbone, marking him, claiming him as hers and he wondered if she even knew how much he’d always longed to belong to someone completely.
“Love you,” he said, falling on top of her, propped up on his elbows, kissing her as if they had all the time in the world. And they did, he’d make sure of it, make sure to have her back even when she got too prideful and stubborn, insisting she could do everything on her own.
“Yes. Yes.” She locked her thighs around his hips and rolled them over, her teeth scraping against his jaw.
“God, you just,” she panted against his throat, “make me lose control. With the kissing,” she wriggled on top of him, fingernails catching his nipples on her way down to his belt in that way that pleasure bordered on pain, the line he liked to straddle better than any other, “and the touching. And everything.”
“Everything?” he prompted, wishing he could freeze this moment and paint the way she looked right now, with his hands spanning her waist and her hair curling over the top of her breasts.
“Mhm. You’re salty goodness.”
“Salty goodness, you say?” He thrust against her, waggling his eyebrows. “Is that an innuendo? Trying to proposition me, Buffy? Because you don’t have to. Feel free to do with me as you like.”
Buffy looked down at him and oh. “Oh! That’s not what I was… I mean.” Words. She was sure she knew how to speak them. Or she would if she hadn’t just been ruined for life by Spike referring to his penis as ‘salty goodness’. God, she could never say those words ever again. “I like your covers?” Smooth, Buffy, smooth. Show him your appreciation of his fine linen. “V-very soft.”
“I like soft things.” He bit his lip, his gaze shifting down from her face in a way that should be outlawed in fifty out of fifty states in America.
“Are you implying that I’m all soft and squishy?” she asked with a pout, her hands stroking his torso. She loved how the muscles would shift beneath his ivory skin and the way his eyelashes would flutter as if he couldn’t help himself.
“I like your soft parts, especially the squishy ones,” he said, sucking in a breath when she undid his belt and popped the top button out of the hole. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Not right now,” she said, letting out an embarrassing squeak when he suddenly surged up and twisted them around. And then he was kneeling between her legs, hovering over her with his fists planted on either of her arms, growling.
Was she still wearing pants or had they miraculously self-combusted? Because she wouldn’t be surprised.
“Look at you. All flushed and trembling.” His hands cupped her bent knees and slid down to undo the clasp on her pants with a dirty smirk on his face. “Do you want me to touch you? Make it all better?”
“You’re a jerk.”
“That’s not a good attitude to have.” He dragged the zipper down, licking his lips as if she was his favourite dessert and he couldn’t wait to have a bite.
“Shut up and touch me.”
He yanked the pants down her legs along with her socks and threw them off to the side. She hadn’t even noticed until now that his feet were already bare.
“Hey, you’re still wearing your—”
He undid the front clasp of her bra with a flick of his wrist and pulled her up into a sitting position so he could slide the straps down her arms. She wasn’t too proud to admit that when he clutched her hips, brought her flush against his body and started kissing her, she forgot what she’d been trying to say in the first place.
“Could kiss you,” she said in between kisses, “for hours.”
“Likewise,” he said, smiling against her lips, and she thought he’s ruined me for life. Because nobody had ever kissed her like this, with that tender ferocity, his entire world narrowed down to her, strumming on her every sensitive spot as if she was a violin he’d been playing for years.
She liked how the short hair at the nape of his neck would tickle her palm, the sound he’d make in the back of his throat when she’d cup his jaw and tilt his head to the side to taste him deeper. And his hands. She could write one of those really short poetry thingies about his hands, if she wasn’t so desperately horrible at it. They seemed to be everywhere, gliding all over her back and hips, teasing the edge of her panties down to the apex of her thighs.
She broke the kiss because damn you, oxygen, and nuzzled his cheek, breathing him in. Fresh cologne and that scent that was uniquely him, that made her think of snow on his eyelashes and hot chocolate with little marshmallows and lazy winter mornings when they’d fight over who would make breakfast for Emma. “If you don’t take your jeans off right now, things are going to get ugly.” She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and tugged, kissing a spot behind his ear that she knew was his weakness. “Maybe I should go find a crowbar to pry them off.”
“It’ll take more than a crowbar to get to my unsullied virtue,” he said, the tip of his tongue peeking out in that teasing way, his fingers slipping beneath her panties and over her swollen folds.
“Spike.”
“How about you do it?” he said, voice trailing off into a whisper as though he was losing track of his own thoughts. Good. She wasn’t the only one.
“Okay.”
He settled against the headboard, with his legs all splayed out and his hot happy trail disappearing into his unbuttoned jeans. The weight of his gaze was making her skin break into goose bumps. As though he wasn’t already giving her heart palpitations, he was palming himself through his jeans too.
“You’re… umm.” She bit down on her tongue, crawling closer to him, sitting between his spread legs.
“What?”
He knew very well what. “Well, what with your hand… doing things.”
“Doing things?” His scarred eyebrow flicked up, clearly teasing her. Oh, she’d show him teasing.
*******
She was going to undo him. Over a hundred of years of experience and self-control blown right out of water the second he looked down and saw her lips stretched over his girth, candlelight dancing over the golden skin of her hollowed cheeks as she sucked her way up so bloody slowly he had to grip the sheets to keep himself from flying apart.
“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, fuck.” He bit down on the inside of his cheek at the obscene sound of her mouth popping free, her tongue flicking out to lick his tip as if he was a lollipop.
“Mmm,” she said, kissing him all over with those swollen, reddened lips, eyelashes sweeping over her cheeks.
He slid his hand to the back of her neck, massaging her scalp, trying to hold himself together when she took him back in and moaned.
“So hot, so bloody good,” he mumbled, swallowing hard.
Her nails sank into his inner thigh, her tongue rubbing over him and he knew that if he didn’t stop her, he’d give her a surprise she wasn’t ready for.
“Buffy,” he said, his voice raw. “W-wait. Come here.”
She did and he didn’t waste any time before he kissed her, lay her beneath him and worshipped every inch of her body until her thighs were trembling against his ears and her heart was beating so fast he thought he could feel it in his own chest.
“So wet,” he said, drinking her down, the taste of her like red wine and peaches.
“Your fault.” Her head dropped onto his pillow, the flush having spread from her cheeks down to her heaving chest. “All yours.”
“Are you?” he asked, crawling up her body, dragging his mouth over her skin, licking a bead of sweat from the hollow of her throat. “Mine?”
“I could be convinced.” And her voice was as soft as the look in her eyes when she added, “As long as you give back. I’m an equal opportunity kind of gal.”
“Buffy, you’ve had me since… since before we even came back, I think. Don’t think I could be more yours if I tried.”
She rubbed her calf over the back of his thigh, pulling him in close enough to whisper in his ear. “You’re kind of sappy, you know.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” She arched her back, her breath hot on his neck. “Now stop teasing before I decide to quote you to Xander.”
“You’re killing my hard-on, love,” he said, parting her flesh with his, wondering if he could dust from this.
“Doesn’t feel like it.” She let out a drawn-out moan, the sound of her blood rushing through her veins like waves crashing on the shore. “Ngh… so good.”
“Only… getting started.” He dropped his forehead on her shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. Good was an understatement. Effulgent would be a bloody understatement, if he hadn’t learned better than to use words like effulgent in the first place.
He propped himself up on his elbows, catching her mouth in a kiss, no finesse, just his lips rubbing over hers, tongue licking over the roof of her mouth as his hands found hers, their fingers interlaced when he surged in completely.
“This is so…” She trailed off, every drag of his flesh inside her lighting her nerve endings on fire.
“Yeah,” he said, his nose bumping hers.
His hips rocked into hers and she battled right back, the muscles in her thighs shaking, the fire in her veins burning hotter with every thrust and parry, with every brush of his lips and the feeling of his body pressing her into the mattress. And she could hold him as tightly as she wanted to, clutch as much as she could, because he was strong enough to give it right back, to make her not worry about hurting him.
“So hot,” he mumbled into her mouth, fingers squeezing hers tight enough to make her feel taken.
“Thanks… I try.”
He chuckled, hips swaying from side to side, pulling back and driving in fast until she thought she might start gasping for breath as if she had asthma.
“Cheeky.”
“Always,” she answered, her eyes on his lower lip, all swollen and bitten raw.
He pulled away then, his hands smoothing down her torso and pinching her nipples before he grabbed her leg and put it over his shoulder, kissing her ankle with an arch of his eyebrow. “Bendy.”
“All that slaying… finally good for something.”
He laughed, a giddy little sound that made her giggle in return and whoa, there were muscles she’d never thought could tighten like that when she laughed.
“Bloody hell,” Spike breathed out, biting the arch of her foot and picking up her other leg to throw it over his other shoulder, opening her up even more. When she thought it couldn’t get any better, his strong sure hands gripped her hips and tilted her pelvis in just the right way to make her brain short circuit when he repeatedly hit a spot inside her that nobody else had ever hit before.
He was stretching her to the limit, touching her all over, his fingertips slipping over her right where they were joined, and she so wasn’t to be blamed for the sounds she made.
“Best I’ve ever… fuck.” His tempo picked up, his chest rising and falling as though he needed to breathe just as much as she did. “Love you.”
“Love… you too. Lots. God. Right there.”
“You can call me Spike.” He smirked and she should be calling him a smug bastard, but she was too busy being turned on by it.
“Maybe I’ll… call you William.”
His eyes rolled back into his head, his thumbs digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. So deep. He’s so deep.
“Buffy.”
She fisted her hands in the sheets, the pressure mounting higher and higher until she felt that if it didn’t crest she might just die.
“Please,” she said, sweat rolling down her temple and into her hair.
He pressed his palm down on her belly, going fast and hard and then she crashed over the edge, stars bursting behind her closed eyelids. He slowed down, letting it roll through her, but not letting her climb down completely.
“You’re evil,” she said, breath whooshing out of her when he picked her up and settled her firmly into his lap, his arms wound around her tightly.
“Not done with you.”
“Good… I can do this with you all night, William.”
And as she sat there with her muscles still spasming in the aftermath and his lips resting on her shoulder, she thought he’s so wrong but loving him is the best choice I’ve ever made.
*******
There were good ways to tell one’s parent you were dating your former mortal enemy. And then there was her.
In retrospect, being caught in a compromising position by her own mother wasn’t Buffy’s proudest moment. Or the best way to admit that she and Spike were an item, who more often than not had trouble keeping their hands off each other. She was sure neither of them could hang out together around the kitchen counter or eat chocolate without suffering the worst case of awkwardness anyone had ever suffered in the history of mankind. Except for Spike. He had no shame.
Buffy thought that my mom saw my vampire boyfriend’s penis in our kitchen would make for a good topic on Dr. Phil.
A few glasses of scotch later and one decidedly just-past-tipsy-stage mother, Buffy could at least sleep easily knowing she wouldn’t be kicked out of the house this time. Having Spike to help with the annual apocalypse events and patrolling was probably what had put the advantage in Buffy’s corner. That, or Spike’s charm.
Too bad his charm had zero effect on Giles or Xander.
But at least they hadn’t shunned her when they’d found out… after they’d caught them kissing in the back room of Magic Box. She really should just keep away from Spike’s lips when anyone was within a mile radius, because kissing him always seemed to lead to trouble.
Xander had been sulking for a few days, until Willow had made it clear that he was dating someone who was about ten times older than Spike and therefore had a ten times longer rap sheet.
And Giles… well, he’d cleaned his glasses, given her that disappointed look that always made her feel like the bottom of a muddy shoe, but seemed to come to terms with it after a while. Maybe it was because he saw how happy Spike made her. Begrudging bonding with Spike over some old bands and bad TV shows had probably helped too. Buffy wasn’t allowed to comment on Passions ever since she’d called it stupid and Spike had ended up threatening to ‘lock up his goods’ until she admitted she was wrong.
She hadn’t, but he’d definitely failed to hold up his end. She had apologised though. Because she kind of loved him, even with his horrible taste in television and bad poetry that he’d scribble down when he thought she wasn’t looking. Hey, he was still better at it than she was, and maybe she did like it. Just a little bit.
And as she looked up from the table and saw him leaning against the wall, he was already looking. While everyone else at the Magic Box was busy researching the newest Big Bad, she mouthed I love you at him. He mouthed it right back, ducking his head to hide a smile and jamming his hands into the pockets of his coat.
Yeah, I love him. A lot.
Not the kind of love that would leave her starry-eyed and crying at night, but the kind that was real. Messy and grown-up, with compromises and talking, and passion that wouldn’t fizzle out. Without playing mind games. She didn’t want impossible. She didn’t want normal. She wanted someone who understood her and made her stronger by letting her be weak when she needed it.
I’d always choose you.
*******
Spike stood there and just watched her, his hands instinctively curling with the need to touch. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he could now, even with everyone looking. Surrounded by White Hats, toothless, and in love with the epitome of everything good, and there was no place he’d rather be.
Not painting towns red with Dru at his side or wreaking mindless havoc just for the hell of it. Because he may be dumb sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let Buffy go when she was everything he’d never thought he needed.
And with the last page of William’s book still there in the back of Spike’s mind, he knew that no matter what world they were in, there was something about her that made him want to be a better man.
“I’d give up every vice for a single smile and I’d stomp all over my pride if it meant she got to keep hers, because that’s what love does to you. And even with all the things we’ve been through and all those times we hurt each other, we fought our way through and found each other in the end, let all those barriers crash to the ground and let each other in. But it didn’t make us weak. It only made us stronger.”
THE END
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Previously: Misunderstanding in the cemetery, which led to some sappy Spuffy times. Let's pick up where we left off, shall we? ;)
Beta'd by All4Spike, who not only makes my writing better, she's also a terrific human being. A massive thank you to her!! Any mistake you spot is all mine, lovely people.
Beta'd by All4Spike, who not only makes my writing better, she's also a terrific human being. A massive thank you to her!! Any mistake you spot is all mine, lovely people.
Chapter End Notes:
This is it, you guys. I got emotional writing the last paragraph, okay? Don't judge. If you made it this far, I love with you with all my heart and it boggles my mind that you'd stick with this story so long. I love you so much. Hope you enjoyed the ride and if you did, please leave me a review, even if you simply tell me that you liked. I always appreciate that. A lot. *hugs*