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*Doesn't he ever put a shirt on?* Buffy thought to herself. After walking through the front door, having finally gotten home from work, the first sight that greeted her was Spike sprawled on the couch, napping in the living room. The TV screen was lit by a silent sitcom, curtains over the windows drawn closed against the evening's dying rays of sunlight.

Buffy sighed , wondering how it was possible for such a devious man to look so innocent. With his bleached head lying against the arm of the couch, his mouth slightly open and thick eyelashes shadowing his cheekbones, Spike was utterly relaxed, and looked vulnerable for the truly first time.

Buffy's lips curled reluctantly into a fond smile A throw blanket lie across the back of an armchair, and she unfolded it to drape the cover over the sleeping vampire.

Or what she thought was sleeping. Suddenly a hand reached out, taking her wrist into its confining grip and tugging her close, knocking the blanket to the floor. Her gasp met the air as her ass hit the couch.

"I didn't mean to wake-"

Spike cut her words in half, and all apologies left Buffy's mind.

He kissed with so much warmth, like something so sugary it almost hurt your teeth, but you couldn't help diving in for another bite. He was like that in every way. Spike left her breathless, wanting more of him, and always overwhelmed.

She couldn't gather the courage to go through with the claim just yet, and that made things tense, but somehow when he kissed her, nothing was a concern except for oxygen. Buffy melted like butter on warm bread when he touched her, and before she knew it, she was lying atop his hard body. Moving against him, conforming to his chest and legs as he tugged her upward, bringing her lips closer.

Her breasts pressed against his bare skin, and Spike was beyond glad he'd chosen to do laundry while she was at work. His hands wandered downward after she was situated. As he let his palms form over the shape of her ass in the lovely skirt she had on, he felt hers trail into his hair, stroking and drawing out curls with playful fingertips.

He ground her down into his hips, thrusting up to make her moan against his mouth. She was flavor and spice, heat in every twist of her body from ankles to hands; his senses all fogged with her fragrance. She moved against him in a mimic of the dance they would soon learn, and every nerve was screaming to take her upstairs and remove all barriers between them.

Instead, he allowed his grip to tighten, his fingers to bite. The demon in him was raging for a complete claim, begging for entrance to the body on top of him. Spike's face nearly shifted when Buffy released a little mewl of pleasure, and his hands roughed their caresses even further.

She gasped in shock after the slap to her rear, then another rang out in the room, both the skin on her face and under her skirt reddening. Unprepared yet delighted, her body arched into his. The kiss broken, she saw that Spike's blue eyes were nearly swallowed by blackness. Desire flared hot in her belly as her hips wriggled and pressed. The kiss restarted, her skirt rode up, and Buffy found herself flipped before her heart could regain its rhythm.

Spike slipped his fingers behind her back, unclipping her skirt and finding the zipper. Buffy raised her hips from the soft cushions to help, and their gazes locked as Spike wrestled the garment from her legs.

The remainder of her ensemble did nothing to cool the vampire down, she realized. Buffy still wore a modest white button-up, with mid-length sleeves and a scoop neckline. Her high-waist skirt was no longer present, but underneath she had donned a simple blue thong.

Spike, evidently, really appreciated the look altogether. His eyes flashed yellow, and Buffy froze as he dove for her throat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if he was too strung out to be let so near her neck, but then he was nibbling and sucking and she forgot to breathe.

"Do you have any idea," he groaned, "how badly I've wanted you since the last time?"

The last time. Buffy whimpered. She'd neglected to show Spike much physical attention since her bedroom, since he'd given her a happy against a door, without even removing her underwear to do it. She hadn't begged him off, or distanced herself, but he hadn't come back. He hadn't so much as kissed her since that day unless it was on the cheek, forehead, or shoulder.

She had thought he was angry, then she'd thought he was teasing. Now, she didn't know what to think. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"Couldn't," he muttered, still at her throat. "Wanted to. Almost did so many times, but I-... Need to know you want this too, Buffy. Need to know you crave me like I crave you."

*Oh God! If he keeps saying things like that...* Buffy's inner voice shouted in dismay. Her heart had swelled; she felt like the Grinch at the end of the Christmas movie. Spike was obviously unsure of himself, for the first time ever it seemed, with her.

That he needed her to need him, too, made her feel wanted, almost loved. She couldn't believe he didn't already understand. She needed, craved, hungered for- Whatever you decided to call it, she felt it, for him. Her mate. "Of course I do-"

His head shot up and she froze, the sudden explicit attention making her nervous. Buffy swallowed hard. "I need you," she said. "I just- I wasn't sure how to- to start something without making you think I was ready for... well, everything."

His eyes softened, and Buffy almost thought she saw... something too scary to let herself think she'd seen it. Even if it'd only been a spark. Her vampire leaned down, and whispered, "I see. Well, let this be a lesson to you." His fingers banded around her hips, beneath the thin fabric of her underwear. "I'm not going to push, or start something, without your explicit permission. Got it?"

She did. The relief in his eyes was clear after she nodded in reply, and it made her pulse quicken. He grinned devilishly, lowering his head. "There'll be no," he licked a trail up her neck, drawing a shiver from her abdomen, "claiming business until you say so. I promise."

She heard him, but all Buffy was able to answer with was a whimper that sort of sounded like "Okay" if you listened hard. He started kissing her again, and she was immediately absorbed in the feel of him.

It ran over her, something divine clicking into place in her heart. She felt the underlying connection between them and smiled under his lips. There was comfort, lust, and an emotion completely detached from their bond, something wholly new.

It was nearly alien, the way she felt when she was with him. No one else compared. Spike was something to her that nobody had ever been before, and perhaps this vamp and she were "meant to be" in a completely random way, but that was not all she felt.

If there was one thing they really had in spades, it was chemistry. Something Buffy realized had been missing in every one of her past relationships- at least of this caliber. Something she didn't want to give up, or take for granted.

Spike's fingers slipped beneath her thong and dragged it down her legs. He delicately pried the garment off, untangling it when it snagged on her heels. Spike's grip then moved to her strappy ankles. "I like these, pet." He gave her a look, danger and sex in a grin. "Might ask you to wear them around the house more often, once I move in."

Her eyes widened even as her heart skipped a beat. Truthfully, that was a nice thought, she'd wear anything he wanted her to if it lead to kissage and that smile, but his bold suggestion still got her automatically protesting. "Haven't laid claim to me yet, Spike. Or my house."

Those words managed to conjure the beast in him; she saw it the moment his eyes narrowed. He prowled back up her body, tongue pressed tauntingly behind his teeth when she shivered again. "I'd make it worth your while," he purred.

"I'm sure you would."

His fingers found the buttons on her blouse. "I'm just about set up here anyway, love. All that's left is a few books and things, personal knick-knacks."

Buffy's voice was breathy as she replied, "Where would they go?"

"Anywhere. The basement, our room, under the floorboards; don't rightly care. I'm not trying to take over decorating privileges of the place. Just want to be with you. Even if I only get to stay because of some she-vamp for now, I'll gladly do it."

He had said "our" room, and that made Buffy's heart feel all aflutter. Before she could speak, he got this glint in his eye, taunting her with a smile full of charm. "Hell, even after she leaves, you might find you're too attached to me to kick me out."

"Ego much?" Though she'd already admitted to herself that was probably true.

"Hopeful, much," he corrected.

And she melted all over again. Yet, amazingly, instead of dissolving into the couch cushions, she managed to sit up and kiss him once more. Her advance started off slow, but Spike was having none of that. He groaned and pressed her body down again, as callused fingers began a steady climb between her inner thighs.

Soon his hand was wedging her legs apart. She allowed herself to give over to sensation, and then he was touching her. The heat in her blood rose. He pulled back to let her breathe, reveling in each gasp that left her lips. "Like fire, you are," he declared. His hand rubbed in a slippery pattern along her cleft, learning her, conjuring tremors that shook her body.

He moved a finger to trace the intimate contours and softness, then delved inside, his own needy desires amplifying themselves and screaming, until she moaned.

Everything went quiet as Spike played her like a finely tuned instrument, his focus centered and remaining wholly on Buffy. She arched her back, panting and wriggling as he kissed her and added more pressure, then less, pulling every lustful sound he could from those sweet lips.

Spike broke away from her reddened neck and smiled softly as her breathing sped up. He kissed her cheek, inhaling the aroma permeating around his head and driving him nuts. She was chanting his name, and he never wanted to hear another being say it but for her. She was everything he'd wanted since the moment he decided his heart needed someone to love, and someone to love him in return. Everything he'd dreamt up, sought, and craved.

Spike nipped at her throat again, helplessly lured back, and then a sensitive spot hidden behind her ear, growling at the way her nails dug into his arms. He roughened his untiring touches, moaning with her. "Come for me, sweetheart," he rasped.

He didn't know how long they'd been on that couch, or how many times his fingers had slid in and out of her scorching body, rubbing playfully and harshly and soft. Spike couldn't even make a guess. His mind was gone, all attention on his mate, and when she groaned his name in sultry release, it was exactly what he'd wanted to hear.

Spike grinned as her breathing very slowly began to calm down. Her chest rose with deep inhales. Lax and pliant as he moved up, pressing a sweet kiss to her swollen lips, Buffy smiled at him, and he felt drunk.

He lent down and nuzzled along her jaw line, breathing deeply. Buffy's heart rate was starting to return to normal, but the rest of her felt truly exhausted. The man had good hands, that was for sure.

She assisted in lifting her hips once again as Spike gently pulled her tiny blue thong back into place. She straightened the piece as he turned around to retrieve her skirt, but then Buffy put a halting hand on his shoulder before he could give it to her. "Wait. I.... I want to do something for you."

He frowned, and Buffy guessed he was trying not to assume what she meant, because judging from the bulge in his jeans she knew what the first thing on his mind could probably be.

She rose, then took Spike's hand and led him quietly from the living room, upstairs.

The vampire dutifully followed, too intrigued and aroused to do anything but. In happy contentment, he watched her ass swaying back and forth until Buffy brought him into her bedroom. She let go of his hand only to shut the door.

She turned to him, and Spike felt his mouth run dry. She stood wearing nothing but that blue bit of fabric, a matching bra of lace, and the open white button-up top. A vision as she approached, pressing her lower body against him, calling his hands away from his sides to fit around her waist. She bit her lip before saying, "I didn't want Darla to wake up and find us."

"That's what spurred this move to your bedroom, then?"

She nodded. "And I hope that it's- it's going to... um..."

He waited patiently for her to finish, unable to resist brushing a lock of hair behind her ear when it fell in front of her eyes. That green stare softened on him, and she said, "I want it to become our room."

His undead heart swelled.

"And soon."

The implication of those two words was like a shot of electricity. Spike guided her lips to his, then followed Buffy as she quickly led them backwards onto the bed. He couldn't stop kissing her, tasting every inch of skin from her chin to the curves of her breasts. Buffy worked on his belt buckle, dragging down the zipper on his jeans.

She was a second away from grasping him on the inside of the denim when he stopped her, dragging her fingertips to his mouth and kissing each one. "Not bloody likely, kitten."

She frowned. "Why?"

He looked at that pout and almost said to hell with it, but he cared too much now and didn't intend to risk a loss of control. He would do everything possible to do right by her. "If we go any further than we have, it's going to be done. You'll be mine in every way and blood will be drank before either of us can remember our own names, let alone that we're not supposed to be finalizing things just yet." His thumb brushed her palm. "I don't want it done like that," he said.

"You don't."

"No." He scoffed quietly, murmuring another confession. "Maybe at the beginning, I would've taken it, but now things have changed."

"They have?" Her brow furrowed deeply.

"Quite a bit, pet."

The simple admission flowed through her mind, then Buffy felt a thousand butterflies suddenly burst into flight in her stomach. She sighed, and knew she must look like a love-struck moron as she stared at him, but still managed to say, "I- I read somewhere that... that fooling around was hard. That without the claim finished, we wouldn't be able to control ourselves from going all the way through with it."

He nodded, bringing a hand to her face and cupping her warm cheek. He was poised above her, eyes of blue looking down with longing and open sincerity. "That's what I'm trying to avoid. I- Christ, Buffy I crave you more than I crave blood, and it isn't just because of the claim."

She gulped, and he continued. "However, making you regret this is not any kind of a beginning. I'm an impatient bugger, not about to deny it, but I don't want that to cause problems later. I might not have realized it, or cared much before, but I-" He stopped and seemed to gather something like courage or a similar emotion, before swallowing and adding, "I want to give you what you want. What you deserve. So I'll wait."

Buffy sat speechless, her heart beating surprisingly steady as she stared at him. His fingers were turning in little circles on her chest, calming and exciting her at once. The air in the room felt depleted, and her vision began to blur until she remembered to blink. She inhaled deeply, and felt a divine sense of peace.

Buffy was pleased with her fate for the first time. A sensation like contentment arrived, because her mate had found her. It was incredible and outstandingly sudden; it was long past overdue.

"What do we do until then?" After the words were out of her mouth, she couldn't believe she'd said them. But the fire in her gut remained, and the promise of fortitude from the vampire in her bed warmed her heart. She may be cautious, but she held her share of impatience, too.

Spike grinned, a very pleased expression on his face. "Anything that'll make you more open to the idea of letting me claim you."

She inadvertently pouted."I tried that and you pulled my hand away."

"Not because I fancied the move, love, I'll be honest."

She nodded. "Okay." Shyly meeting his gaze, Buffy chewed her bottom lip and asked, "Kiss me again?"

There was that grin that she loved. Spike leaned over her, and pressed his cool mouth to hers. Slowly, like wet silk his tongue teased her lips apart, moving inside to taste and indulge. His hands fondled and played with her body, a shamelessly possessive touch on her skin. Buffy stroked his naked back, traced the ridges of his shoulders and arms. Her eager hands trailed up his abdomen, counting and memorizing the channels. Soothing fingers gentled over jagged scars that she found, and she arched for him when Spike squeezed her ass and tugged her yet closer.

Greedy touches and throaty moans, sighs and heated kisses. They stayed in Buffy's bedroom for quite some time, laughter shared with lust. They were both acting like teenagers, but there was something to be said for young love; and closeness was a new thing for both of them, and it was so sweet a treasure.

"Wait. Did you hear that?"

Spike pulled back from marking a hickey on her chest, frowning. "Hear what?" He could barely concentrate on anything except for her.

She frowned. "I thought I heard-"

A knock came at the door and they both looked up. Darla turned the doorknob and came in, but she stopped behind the short length of wall that hid her from the sight of Buffy's bed.

An arm swung into view, and dangling from Darla's hand was Buffy's skirt; the one she had left downstairs, crumpled on the couch- or floor, she couldn't remember. "Remind me never to borrow this," Darla said.

Buffy snorted when she flung the wrinkled skirt at the bed without aiming, and it hit Spike in the forehead. He growled softly after Darla shut the door, and then Buffy couldn't help laughing, even as a blush took up residence on her cheeks.

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END NOTES: I apologize for the awful delay with this chapter! Things have been busy, and I know it's a little short, but the next update is going to be long. I hope you all enjoyed this one, thanks for reading and the reviews! *blows kisses* You're all very awesome for sharing your opinions, I really appreciate it!





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