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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Smut, smut, and more smut. I hope you guys enjoy! And thanks so much for reading and reviewing! :)
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They stayed in bed all day, sheets tangled around their limbs, acting more like heavy anchors than gentle cloth traps when it came to getting up. Need of the bathroom, or when Buffy's stomach growled loud enough, were the only true motivators to leaving the room, though it was never for long.

Late in the evening, they had finally agreed to dress and go down to the kitchen. There, they found another note from Darla hanging on the fridge.

It simply said, "I'm meeting Faith at the Bronze. Don't worry, I'll be home late." Buffy was left to wonder how long it would be until Faith called to offer congratulations on her new living sex toy; and yes, Buffy was sure that would be exactly how Faith put it.

Spike's conceited smirk after reading the note didn't help Buffy's blush at all. Honestly, she wondered how she was still capable of that, but stopped caring when he kissed her in a way that made concern over reddened cheeks wholly irrelevant.

She was lying against him now while a warm night breeze flew in through the window and made the curtains dance. Buffy really didn't want to go back to work on Monday, much more partial to the concept of staying in bed with Spike for several straight weeks instead. However, things that were less fun, things like work, demanded to be noticed, and she really shouldn't blow it off.

As if her thoughts had traveled on the wind, Spike draped an arm over her stomach and said, "Couldn't you take a few days off from Wingfield's, love?"

She smiled resplendently, closing her eyes as he stretched his naked body along the length of hers. His cock pressed against her ass and Buffy moaned softly. "I shouldn't. I've already run out of sick days, and Willow's a great boss. She lets me get away with stuff most other employees couldn't."

He groaned in complaint, then in pleasure as she arched her back. "It'll be hard, staying away from each other for nine hours." He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "The claim might not be able to handle it this early on."

A hand of his was trailing down her front, heading for the apex of her thighs and pinching a nipple along the way. "It's not like I'll be working late." Her words preceded a blissful sigh. "I'll get home early if I can," she said.

Spike let out a low growl, cupping her pussy, spreading her silky folds wide and slipping his fingers between them. "I'm tempted never to let you work late again," he said, in a voice filled to the brim with heat.

Buffy certainly wouldn't complain if he did. After what happened last time, she didn't even want to go back to the office, much less stay there until the sun went down. However, she did have to go back, no matter how much it rankled the claim, or how badly she missed Spike.

"I can take a long lunch," Buffy said, then gasped when Spike plunged two fingers inside her body, her thighs clenching around his hand as he began to nuzzle and nip at the mark on her throat. He slipped his other arm underneath her, keeping her locked against him.

"Do that," he told her. "In the meantime, spread your legs."

She couldn't help but comply.

"That's my girl." Buffy's nerves turned into pudding as he started plucking at her body like she was made of harp strings, drawing out vocal appreciations that she couldn't control. Trying to bend in a way that would gain added friction from his teasing touch got her nowhere. Buffy's writhing twists became erratic and jerky, but Spike just pinned her roughly to the mattress, and snarled at her to stay still.

Fighting the urge to beg and clutch the sheets, every inch of her body tingled as he slowly moved down her side. He turned and pressed his face into her panting chest, absently licking her erect nipples on his way before tonguing a circle around her belly button.

Buffy's hips rose off the bed right after they were flattened there, her stomach clenching. Spike's lips encouraged goose bumps to rise on her legs, and he placed wet, tantalizing kisses all around her pussy, nipping and tasting her skin.

His face changed when she whimpered his name, and Spike gently pierced the spot beside her hip with his teeth, drawing out a spoonful of blood. A shout rung out from her lungs, followed by rushes of air as Buffy tried to catch her breath. He soothed the wound with his tongue and growled. "Mine."

She shuddered. "Yours."

A familiar pulse of power ran through them, the connection lighting. Buffy and Spike gasped in unison. The vampire licked his way downward, and finally stroked her swollen clit with his tongue. He moved torturously slow, his moth watering at the first touch, the first taste.

His own scent was mixed with Buffy's, calling forth to the demon. It was enough to make him dizzy, and Spike dived ever deeper, wanting to immerse himself in her.

Her bones rattled beneath her skin when he dipped his tongue, curving it as he entered her. Spike groaned loudly, and the vibrations were enough to pull a whimper out of Buffy's throat. He was savoring her, causing her to groan and thrash, moving incredibly slow with every plunge and caress of his wet tongue.

He drew back and started lapping at her dripping entrance, before returning again to the throbbing crux at her cleft. He went on and on, torturing her. Tasting her and inhaling her like one might a fine wine. Buffy felt a coil of heat expanding in her abdomen, travelling higher until it was begging for release and she found herself voicing the need. "Spike, please, I need-" He sucked her clit into his mouth and growled, making her shake violently. "Spike!"

He pulled back and a despairing shiver coursed down her spine. "What do you want, Buffy?"

She struggled with the words, part out of embarrassment, part out of lack of coherence.

He demanded an explanation, unsympathetic to her rambling pleas that didn't sound like English. "Tell me what you want, or we'll keep this going until you do. And let me be very clear when I say that I've got no complaints in staying right here." He sucked on her clit again, hard and achingly long, just to demonstrate exactly where he meant, just in case she'd forgotten.

Spike had to grab her hips as they immediately shot off the bed. He pinned them in place and went at her again, licking and diving into her soaking entrance, nibbling on her folds and then tracing her clit distressingly slow. The delicious sensations rolling through Buffy's body made her mind foggy and every thought disjointed, until finally, she groaned, "Spike, make me come."

The vampire smiled rakishly, then ordered, "Say please."

Buffy nearly gasped at his audacity. But then he was playing with her clit again, this time between one of his fangs and his tongue, causing blackness to invade on her vision. "Please, make me come!"

A chuckle. "Since you asked..." Spike did not disappoint. He filled her wet pussy with two long fingers and curled them just so, then began moving them in and out as he continued delicately nibbling her clit, until finally licking the little bundle of nerves rapidly as his thrusts deepened. He finally retracted his fangs, and planted his mouth and tongue entirely over her pussy, pressing, slurping, moaning. Her hips broke from the flat surface of the bed once more in uncontrolled jerks, and he reliably held onto them as a loud, high pitched cry left her lips. A pleasurable wave swept through her, and all Buffy knew was bliss.

Her eyes popped open as the world began to slow its swirling, and colors were revived, but before she could even fully come down from the high or catch her breath, Spike moved up her body and entered her in one harsh drive. Groaning as her fluttering walls clamped around him, Buffy moaned lowly in return and arched into his thrusts. His mouth found her neck and Buffy felt stubborn ecstasy rolling back to her.

He changed again, then hastily left her throat to lower his fangs to her breast, imbedding them and drawing on the hot blood. She whimpered and Spike growled, electricity cutting along every nerve ending he possessed before Buffy's lips opened on a silent gasp as another orgasm, dizzying and languid, spilled through her. Their climaxes went through them both like a shot, and their bodies fell boneless.

Spike's muscles, once taught, slowly relaxed and began to tingle with brilliant aftershocks. His body was overflowing with pleasure and peace. His demon was purring, and he realized belatedly that the sound was reverberating through his chest, announcing his contentment. Nothing in the world felt so good as lying with Buffy, listening to her catch her breath as a grin of satisfaction and happiness crossed her beautiful, flushed face.

Nuzzling into her hair and neck, Spike kissed softly, smiling against his mate's skin.

Buffy reached up to stroke the back of his head, running fingers through his curly hair. She frowned when she began to feel faint, from the pleasure and the lack of blood, she supposed. Spike's panting breaths could be heard clearly as they fanned across her neck, but Buffy's vision grew hazy and black. She swallowed and tried to focus, fighting the bizarre dizziness.

The claim was happy, as was she, but her body apparently wasn't quite equipped yet for the appetites of a vampire mate.

She felt Spike freeze above her, and worry edged its way into her awareness from his side of the connection. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Dizzy," she sighed.

He swore and quickly pulled away from her. She groaned in complaint and closed her eyes again, then felt Spike's arms envelope her. He supported her head in one hand. "Breathe, love." He massaged the nape of her neck and murmured nonsense as she curled against him.

Buffy moaned quietly, then reopened her eyes and met his worried gaze with a smile. "That was fun," she said lightly.

Spike didn't seem to find her cute. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Just got a little dizzy. I'm fine now." Her mind was already beginning to clear.

"Bugger." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken so much blood. The claim hasn't prepared you for that just yet."

Buffy shrugged. "I'm okay, Spike. Really. I like the bite-y stuff." She traced circles on his chest and lowered her voice to a whisper, smile never waning. "I just need a little time to replenish my stock for you, I guess."

Her joke fell on deaf ears, and Spike continued to look at her like the concerned lover that he was. Buffy felt both shame and anxious worry coming from him, and her gaze softened as amusement fell away. "Spike, I'm really okay. We'll just hold off on the biting for a while. It's no big."

He gazed at Buffy's reassuring face, the same face that seemed definitely too pale for his liking. Spike kissed her softly on the lips before rising from bed, draping the sheet over her. He grabbed his jeans off the floor.

"Where are you going?"

"Downstairs to get you something. Stay in bed, I'll be right back." He pulled the zipper of his Levis up, then strode from the room, ignoring Buffy's questions as he headed to the kitchen.

***

Less than ten minutes later, Spike returned with a tall glass of orange juice in hand.

Buffy was pretty sure she went, "Awww," as he sat down, at least in her head, because Spike gave her a fleeting scowl before handing over the glass. She took it readily. "Drink up."

Even rolling her eyes affectionately, Buffy followed his order nonetheless, swallowing three mouthfuls before setting the juice in her lap. She twitched her nose and asked, "Are you cooking?"

"I found hamburgers in the freezer, put one on the stove for you. It'll be done soon."

She blinked. "I hardly ever eat meat, you know that right?"

"Tonight's going to have to be one of those rare occasions then. You need iron, and I won't have you passing out on me."

As suddenly as a smile graced Buffy's face, warmth spread through her whole body like a honeyed shot of whiskey, replicating the fire. Spike could be incredibly doting at times- most of the time -and it never ceased to leave her feeling spoiled. "Thank you."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, his thumb gently rubbing around the prominent bite mark on her throat. "No need to say it."

"Too bad." He grinned at that. Then Buffy's nose twitched again, and she thought maybe a hamburger didn't sound like such a bad idea. "So, should we go downstairs?"

"Impatient one, are you?"

"I'm hungry again," she admitted. "You have a way of increasing a girl's appetite."

He grinned. "Don't I know it, baby."

***

"Have I ever told you that you're a pretty good cook?" Buffy asked while she finished up her meal. The burger was done medium-rare and tastefully spiced, and Spike had even put it on a bun with all the trimmings to perfect her simple dinner.

He chuckled at her compliment, refilling her empty glass with more orange juice. "I believe you have, Goldilocks."

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, for both the nickname he seldom used, and emptying the Tropicana container. "Spike, that's the third glass you've poured me."

"And?"

"And? I'm beginning to feel like if you squeezed me I could refill it myself. Enough orange juice."

He sighed and rolled his eyes at her gentle laughter, but capped the glass off at half full before putting the juice carton back in the fridge.

"How are you feeling?" Spike asked, once he turned back around.

"Much better," Buffy said. "You're also a good doctor."

He smiled. Then, the phone rang, and he frowned hard upon glancing its way.

Buffy stifled a groan and went to answer it, hoping Darla wasn't in trouble, or Faith stuck in jail, or Dawn at the hospital. Before calming her erratic thoughts, Buffy cut the loud ringing in half and greeted whoever had interrupted Spike and hers Time Away from the World, something she had chosen to call their secluded Saturday unbeknownst to him. Anxiously fiddling with the tie on her bathrobe, she said, "Hello?"

"Oh, Buffy!" Willow's relieved voice sliced through all half formed concerns just like a blade. "I'm so glad you're not in bed yet. At least, I hope you're not- weren't. I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, I was up," Buffy reassured, smiling softly at Willow's fretful drop in tenor. "What's going on?"

"I just needed to tell you something about the jewelry pieces Mr. Finn brought in yesterday."

Buffy froze. Those words managed to accelerate her heartbeat as fast as a near stumble down a staircase. A hard swallow went down her throat. "Oh," she said, hoping against hope that Spike couldn't hear what they were talking about. "Did he want to take them out of the auction?"

"No, but Riley told me he forgot to bring a few in, I guess. He called as soon as he realized it earlier today." Her boss sighed quietly, as if she might be shaking her head. "He wants to stop by with them on Monday, and I just wanted to warn you so you didn't think I was up to anything fishy."

Buffy inwardly groaned. She could feel tense energy coming from Spike now, and despite the injustice of it, she could have clobbered Willow over the head for being so thoughtful. "Oh. W-Well, thanks Wills. I- I think you should tell him to just drop them off at your office, though."

"Oh. Okay, sure, I can do that," her boss said. "But wouldn't it be kind of like taking the long way around?"

Buffy thought quickly. "Well, I um... I won't be in Monday."

"You won't?"

"At least, I... I hope you'll allow me the day off," she rephrased. "I kind of need a long weekend at home." Blowing off work again suddenly seemed imperative, what with the tension vibrating off the vampire in the room.

She could practically hear Willow frowning. "Sure..."

Buffy sighed, acknowledging the only thing that would grant this day of freedom without issue, and grasping at it like the proverbial batch of straws it was. "I met a guy. And it's... it's gotten really serious."

The following gasp of delight nearly made Buffy roll her eyes, even as she smiled. "A guy?! Who?! Who is it?!" Willow squealed.

Buffy shook her head in silent disbelief at her friend's predictability. "I know that it's a completely personal and unprofessional reason for missing work," she said, "and I'll make up the hours. I would just like-"

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Willow said. "You can have three days off if you want, just tell me about this guy!"

Buffy grinned fondly, holding in a giggle. "I'll tell you all about him on Tuesday. I promise. And, could you maybe help out Mr. Finn for me?"

"Done."

"Thank you so much, Willow. I'll see you later."

"You are welcome. Talk to you soon, Buffy!"

She hung up the phone, and almost closed her eyes as she turned around to face her vampire. Biting back a sigh, a tumble of emotions rattled her nerves as her gaze locked with his. Spike stood scarily still, but his jaw was deceptively tight and his hands had clenched into fists.

"So, the bloke came by your office, did he?"

There was the steel coated, tensely voiced concern, frustration, anger, and worry all poorly hidden behind a question mark. "Yesterday," Buffy answered. "He brought in some jewelry pieces that needed to be looked at."

Spike glanced away, his eyes settling on the countertop. A muscle moved behind his cheek before he said, "He was the reason you had to work late, wasn't he?"

Buffy shrugged, trying in vain to calm her fluttering nerves. "Kind of." The emotions flowing in from Spike were tumultuous and messy, sadness and fear and just plain possessiveness twisting into an upsetting blend. She approached him calmly, unafraid and her heartbeat slowly winding down to its natural rhythm.

She reached for him and let him jerk her body in close, barely even blinking. Feeling him against her only managed to calm Buffy further. "Spike, I never liked the guy. And I was not hiding the fact he showed up at the auction house, okay? He's a client and that is all."

The vampire nodded, but laughed a bit harshly when he said, "Is that why your nerves jumped two feet when your boss called just now and brought it up?"

"No." She held in another sigh. "It was because I was worried about your reaction, and I hadn't said anything to you yet. I didn't want you to think I was hiding something."

One nice advantage about this whole being able to sense each other's emotions thing, Buffy thought, was that Spike knew she was telling him the truth. Better still, he believed her with or without the ability to feel her honesty in his bones, simply because he trusted her. She felt his trust, and it was a gift like no other.

Still, as fear and gloom dropped away, possessiveness refused to deplete. She hastily braced herself as a fire grew in Spike's eyes and his hold on her body took a turn for unbending. The claim was buzzing.

Buffy stared at him calmly, even as a gulp went down her throat, and her thighs clenched together.

"Spike..." she hedged, flattening her palms on his rising chest. It was so comforting sometimes when he breathed, but not like this. Deep, ragged inhales lifted the muscles beneath her hands as he worked to control himself. The breaths were distressing yet exhilarating. She broke eye contact to try and think of something to say, and that was a mistake.

He grabbed her chin and directed her gaze back up to collide with golden eyes, a predatory glitter swallowing her in their sights. She could feel the immensely overcoming urge he had to sink his fangs into her, and it excited her, but Buffy knew he didn't want to do it all the same. She'd lost a lot of blood already, and he wouldn't take more of it yet.

Which only riled the demon further.

Yet there was not a bit of fear. Just a familiar desire pooling in her gut. Buffy actually took notice of an invisible imp on her shoulder who silently whispered: *Run.*

She shoved by before Spike could recognize the teasing impulse. Giggling as she sped from the kitchen and up the stairs, he followed close behind.

Buffy laughed with delight when he spun her around and hoisted her into his arms, clutching her fidgeting body and pounding up the remaining steps. He snarled at her to quit moving, and Buffy stilled, excitement racing through her veins. Before she knew it, he had made it to her bedroom.

She had to shake her head. No, now it was their bedroom, impossible to think anything different. Her privacy wasn't so private anymore, and a seldom acknowledged void which had taken up residence in her soul some time ago, seemed to be filled for the very first time. Something that was deep and irrefutably connected to her heart with its strong, roping strings, had embedded deep with certainty.

It felt faultlessly right. Domesticity without complete normalcy. Instead of a ring on her left hand there was a bite mark on her throat, and there wouldn't be any children, but there would be eternity. There was no need to immortalize their names, Buffy and Spike would live through the centuries. The primal unity was only beginning to take shape, and brand them both with its matchlessness and perfect fit.

It was the fire in Spike's crystalline eyes. Hot blue flames that locked onto her after she was thrown on the mattress. It was in his rough caress as his knee depressed the sheets and his hands worked on touching her everywhere they could. It was in his silent commands she followed without questioning the assuredness with which she understood them.

It was the certainty of always knowing the steps to a forever lively dance. Their dance.

His fingers undid the tie around her waist and spread the sides of her robe open, baring her naked body to his greedy, possessive gaze. The need in his eyes was as palpable as the one she could feel swirling in her gut, familiar and hot, always overwhelming.

When he touched her breasts, and pinched her nipples with blatant satisfaction as a little gasp escaped her throat, new animalistic light roped around every nerve numbing caress. Every single smoothing of his palms over her skin, each useless breath that whispered from his mouth, and all the weight he pressed upon her after removing his jeans and stretching along her body. It was like being branded, the chill of his skin cooling hers, the claim immersed in a kind of zealous comfort she couldn't define but with one word: Belonging.

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike. She could feel the need he had to let his demon out, the thirst to drink from her, but instead he remained unchanged, his weight supported by his elbows and her hips as he stilled above her. That fire refused to give out in his eyes. He stared blatantly and with certain confidence, an encompassing look that encouraged a tickling shiver to run over her skin.

She started to feel lightheaded again, but it had nothing to do with blood loss or hunger. This time, it was because Spike was holding her, crushing her breasts to his body as his gaze shimmered back and forth between blue and gold like a magic trick. Yet the moment he pushed inside her came unseen and without warning, accompanied by an ecstasy rush potent enough to screw with her equilibrium.

It didn't hurt. It never did. But it was a surprise which quickly dissolved into pleasure and shock as he picked up a rapid pace, a bruising rhythm of dip, deepen, and withdraw. Buffy gasped and clawed him closer to her, losing herself in the predatory rumbles coming from his chest.

One of his hands moved subtly off the bed to grip the nape of her neck. He was lifting her face up to his throat. Buffy's jaw clenched on a particularly hard thrust, then the spiraling started. A wicked twist of Spike's hips made her cry out. Her legs had wrapped around his waist long ago, and now her teeth were pressing against his jugular, aligning with the imprint of her claim on him.

He wanted her to bite. The possessive, harsh drives he took her with and the absolute lack of space between their writhing forms spoke volumes, and she knew she would be able to read him like a book even without the ability to feel everything, without hearing his words that followed the opening of her jaw on another high note.

"Take it," he ordered, his voice seemingly too close yet far away at once. "Take it." The words slipped between thrusts like the grunts and moans slipping from her mouth. Before he could demand it again, Buffy clamped down on his throat with her teeth as her inner walls clamped around his cock, squeezing, pulsating. Blood poured onto her tongue as that distinctive feeling like a key clicking in a padlock enveloped her, the kind of rightness that she only ever felt when in his arms.

Spike released a growl that was harsh and earsplitting, and the room spun away as his hard thrusts hit the perfect, most sensitive spot inside her, belatedly rubbing against her clit with every move as he roared his release. Buffy's moan of completion hummed passed his ear and ecstasy rattled her bones.

The waves of heat and lust rolled away like quiet ships on the ocean, carrying Buffy's consciousness with them.

Then, all of a sudden she found herself flipped on her stomach, and let out an "mmph" sound as her sweaty back rippled beneath the cool air that hit it. Spike had pulled swiftly out of her body, but before Buffy registered the unquenched desire coming from the claim, and felt Spike's lust quickly making a comeback, he slipped two fingers inside her wet pussy and curled them on the upstroke. She moaned despite the lethargy weighting down her limbs, and then let out a throaty groan which just made him chuckle.

Evidently, the vampire wasn't done with her yet.

"Not even close, kitten."

Did she say that out loud? Buffy realized, upon turning her head to peek at Spike in her foggy peripheral, that no, she hadn't uttered a coherent word for some time now. He just knew. The claim, and the vampire's ability to read her, owed to a connection that had nothing whatsoever to do with the claim, enabled him to understand her silent thoughts as clearly as if he was reading them on paper.

She had the same capability oftentimes. And now, as he worked her tired body into another frenzy, and got her writhing atop the bed sheets once again, she knew he was planning to make her see stars. Spike wouldn't be satisfied until he depleted his own endurance and succumbed to exhaustion, which Buffy couldn't see happening anytime soon.

She moaned as he withdrew his touch so slowly that her legs twitched in agonized pleasure. She could see his cock just starting to swell again, underlining his status as more-than-human, and knew he was only playing with her.

Yet something told Buffy nothing was quite so simple right now. Not with the intent, "wheels-turning" look in Spike's eyes.

His hand which had previously been shaped around one of her ass cheeks, moved down to take his cock, and he began stroking it while watching his fingers disappear inside her. They glistened with cum, hers and his own, and only grew wetter after every dip and withdraw.

Spike bit his lip before curling his tongue in a way that made Buffy spread her legs wider for him. She was starting to pant, and nearly every nerve in her body was humming with splendid heat, even as she tried to gain friction from the mattress.

The strokes on his cock sped up slowly. He started squeezing himself in a way that looked almost painful, but couldn't have been anything less than satisfying for the way he groaned. Spike continued to watch her with greed and lust, just as she watched him. Buffy's hips rose and squirmed, but he kept up a slow rhythm as he fucked her with his fingers, even while the pulls on his erection frequently changed pace. Drops of pre-cum gathered at the tip and he massaged them into his skin before groaning, twisting the moisture around his length to mix with what was left over from their last shared climaxes.

Then suddenly, his hand was gone, and Buffy whimpered harsh and loud. Spike was teasing, and her mouth watered and her thighs trembled and her neck burned all for the need to have him inside her in some way.

His hand that was coated with her slickness moved to replace the one on his cock, and she could just barely contain her gasp as he spread the moisture over his skin, nostrils flaring. Buffy gulped and her pussy clenched. Then, like an answered prayer, his previously busy fingers that had caressed and played with his swollen cock entered her in one swift more. She grunted and gasped at once, and couldn't care less that her hips shot off the bed.

Before she knew it, she was begging. "Spike. I need you- Oh..." Buffy's fingers pulled on the sheets as her lungs worked to bring in air, hot whispers leaving her in exhales she desperately needed. "Please. I need you inside."

Resisting that, was near impossible for him. Spike bit back a groan and removed his fingers from her warmth, nearly sighing at her lustful whimper. He directed her to roll over then move to her knees as he did the same. Still stroking his erect cock, Spike said, "Open your mouth then."

For an instant, Buffy froze.

There was truth to using the word "simple" to describe her past love affairs. None of them had been anything even close to wondrous, and creativity was certainly limited in her experiences. A blowjob, while mundane, was something she'd only done twice. It had to be related to the fact that nearly each of the men she'd slept with were on the fast track out of her life not long after the first romp in the sack. There had been little time for exploring her partners' bodies, and very few opportunities she had granted them to explore hers.

A frightening insecurity stemmed from those relationships that Buffy hardly ever allowed herself to think on. Now, with Spike kneeling above her and his request- rather, his demand -freshly spoken, it felt like every buried concern about inadequacy rushed to the surface. She had nearly done this for Spike several times, once before they had even completed the claim, but for some reason, now Buffy was suddenly hit with extreme insecurity steeped in lack of preparation.

She swallowed hard, recognizing the desire to please him and deciding to act on it rather than letting her worries best her. After all, Spike was practically guaranteed to enjoy whatever she did, with him being a guy and all, not to mention that he loved her. The fact he was a vampire with heaps of experience under his belt- pun not intended -shouldn't scare her. After all, she'd known it all along, and had never given it a second thought before.

Buffy refrained from physically trying to shake the worries out of her head. She supposed she should take the task in hand, as it were, before he noticed what her thoughts were undoubtedly exposing through their connection and he-

"Buffy?"

-said something. Closing her eyes, biting back a sigh, Buffy straightened up so she could comfortably meet his eyes. She then scooted closer. "Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

There was a sultry coarseness to his voice, lust coating his words. His hand never stilled its movements between them, and the awareness of it made her bite her lip. Conversation might be difficult at this point, what with the wetness pooling between her thighs, and yet Spike was still asking if there was anything wrong, even though his desire had not waned in the least.

It took a few seconds to answer. "Nothing's wrong," she said, her tone calling forth an eyebrow arch from him. "I... Well, in the past it was all just pretty cut and dry with the other... other guys I've..." She nearly winced at the snarl that erupted from his throat.

Okay, so he really didn't like her talking about any intimate partners that weren't him, even if there hadn't been very many things "intimate" about them. Not compared to what she had now, with this vampire who was staring at her like she held both the world and his heart in her hands. "Spike, I'm just trying to explain to you-"

"I get it, pet," he cut her off, eyes severe. "Haven't tasted flavors outside vanilla, have you." It wasn't a question, the way he said it. It was simply a stated fact.

Spike seemed to be losing the grasp on his control, pale chest rising sporadically with useless but steadying breaths. Buffy reached out tentatively to mold her hand over the one he stroked himself with. Her vampire groaned quietly, a hard blue stare softening into one of tender adoration, yet still outlined by that possessive heat that made her knees quake. It was enough to encourage Buffy to run her fingers over his bare skin, and the subsequent whimper that fell from his lips was one of the most empowering sounds she'd ever heard.

"I just..." the full admission tumbled out, "haven't done this very much."

Something flashed behind his eyes, then more territorial warmth enveloped her body like a cloak. The times he stared at her like that were the times when Buffy felt both like royalty, and a woman purely in need of a command. It was a lustful, exhilarating combination.

"No?" he asked, a large hand folding over her tentative fingers now. He wrapped them completely around his length and started guiding her strokes. An ache settled deep in her womb.

She shook her head, eyes locked with his. "Twice, if I'm being honest."

The light flashed again, followed by an eagerness she wasn't sure should make her feel so nervous, but then again, Buffy was currently fighting every instinct that told her to look away from Spike's expressive eyes. He conveyed so much in just a glance, and it was always enough to make her anxiety either wither or thrive. Often, it did both.

Her lungs expanded with a deep breath. She moved her hand faster, stroking up and down his rigid cock, her thumb poking out from beneath Spike's fist to circle around the head. He hissed quietly, and she said, "They weren't very... educating experiences."

Spike chuckled, a dark and silky laugh devoid of hilarity. "Well, love, if you're interested, I'll gladly be your guinea pig."

She looked at where her hand worked to drive him wild. Spike couldn't understand how anyone lucky enough to get Buffy in their bed wouldn't thank the Gods for every single second and love her properly, indulge in everything they could together. Though it sent him into a jealous tizzy just thinking about another bloke touching her, Spike had to mentally examine the notion that others had, and apparently taken it for granted. What idiots.

Even now, Buffy proved her inexperience without words, with the way she gazed hungrily at the motions of their joined hands before uncertainty flashed in that green and black stare when he let go.

Buffy licked her lips and squeezed him on an upstroke, drawing forth a throaty moan from the vampire. "I thought you could be my teacher," she said.

Spike breathed needlessly, his abdomen tightening at the ideas that flashed through his mind instantaneously, explicit clips from numerous dreams. Before he could talk himself out of it, let concern overtake the desire to glide his hands into her hair, Spike allowed his lust and the reassurance of the claim to conduct his motions.

"I'll guide you, yeah?" he said, and at her ready nod between his palms, Spike encouraged her to crouch lower on the mattress and turn around. When she let go of his cock, the loss was an acute deprivation that vibrated like an electric shock through his muscles.

Spike quickly moved to the head of the bed. He leaned back and spread his legs, and Buffy sat between them. He reached for her and she placed her hand trustingly in his, making him smile. He brought her touch back to the throbbing dilemma lying against his stomach and she resumed her actions of a minute before.

His eyes rolled and the heat from her hand branded him, making the demon purr in satisfaction. Spike thrust his hands into her golden hair again and tugged, bringing her lips closer to his. "When you're ready, Buffy," he breathed, "I'm yours."

After a nod at the reassurance, she let her instincts take control. Buffy stroked as roughly as she thought she should, then squeezed when Spike said not to worry about causing pain. Her fingers still couldn't meet her thumb around his girth. Watching him and hearing every encouraging sound or word that fell from his mouth emboldened the twists and pulls of her hand, the sensation of his fingers gently massaging her scalp relaxing, and further depleting tension.

A thrilling kind of power sizzled in her veins at the sound of each moan or gasp from him. Looking into the near abyss-like blackness of his eyes as he watched her made Buffy's thighs stiffen and her stomach clench. She was torturing them both with this game, and before another doubt could make itself known in her mind, she dipped her head and led a trail of wet, vicious nips and kisses over his chest, to his navel, all the way down to...

He growled with the first tentative lick, then again when she pulled back to nibble and peck kisses around his hipbone. Buffy didn't take long to maneuver her way back to Spike's cock, the strain on her scalp encouraging. Her lips left him untouched, but her tongue glided along the underside from his base to his tip. The groan that followed made her smile like the Cheshire cat, and she repeated her actions again and again until an impatient growl had her looking up.

His eyes were flickering between blue and amber gold again. The sight made her shiver, as did the quick snarl that erupted from his chest when she finally realized how badly her mouth was watering. She spread her lips around him with a slow gentleness that spoke of both tease and worship.

He hissed when Buffy first sucked on the head of his cock, tenderly as if she might be afraid of hurting him. He knew she was taunting. Evidently, the bundle of earlier hesitancies had disappeared the moment she got a taste of him, because now she was experimenting, learning him, suckling and nibbling on his cock like it was a lollipop.

The tactics she chose spoke little of inexperience, and more of insecurity which quickly waned. His fingers clenched in her hair, pulling on it. He could barely resist the urge to surge up into her mouth, shove himself down her throat. She had once offered him this kind of delicious torture before, but he'd declined because he knew he wouldn't have been able to leave her unclaimed if he'd felt her lips around his cock. Now, with the connection between them, alive and fresh and powerful, something told Spike that she'd thought of doing this more than just once.

Except almost doing something, and thinking about doing something, were both very different from actually doing it. The time was finally right, and Buffy's initial timidities were fast depleting, leaving behind a greedy vixen who seemed to like to play games.

When she took him fully for the first time, bringing more than half of his erection inside her mouth and hollowing her cheeks, Spike's eyes fell shut as a loud groan escaped his throat. She sucked hard as she rose up, the bobs of her head quickening after she found a rhythm, and her hand stroked and fondled what her mouth couldn't take.

She started moaning as the grip on her hair tightened. Soon, Spike was fisting the strands and guiding her head up and down, faster as she hummed and swallowed around him, drawing the loveliest noises from his chest. Gasps and pants and little growls echoed above her head as Buffy worked with her tongue and lips, eventually scraping her teeth ever so gently across his length.

After the enthusiastic response from that move, she tore her head slightly out of his hands, and moved lower. Slowly she caressed his heavy balls with her tongue; it had always been an intriguing idea, but she'd never gotten a chance to try it out before. Any doubts concerning the pleasure it could bring were quickly destroyed when Spike's hips jerked at the first touch.

She pumped her hand along his cock, alternating now between teasing and sucking on one erogenous zone, then the next. Spike's eyes were closed tight, his nostrils flared as he pulled in useless breaths while an expression of blissful arrogance and yearning fell on his face. He was gorgeous, and the tightening of his fingers in her hair only made Buffy more anxious to please him, keep him moaning and groaning like he was.

He shuddered when she swallowed around his cock again, a look of pure adulation shining in his eyes when he opened them. "That's it, Buffy. Suck me off. Harder now- Ahh..." She hummed and then nibbled at the tip of him, tonguing the weeping slit. He groaned again and suddenly, Buffy found her mouth forced over his length. She quickly hollowed out her cheeks and sucked hard.

Spike's hips went from gently rolling into her movements, to rising off the bed. He held her head in place now and Buffy could feel the tip of his cock gently stabbing the back of her throat. She slipped a hand beneath him to clench his balls, massaging them and moaning around his hardness.

The pressure was building, she could feel it. His moans were sounding more and more like growls with every drive his cock made into her mouth. The heat in her gut turned into an inferno, and the grip on her hair became truly painful. Desire pooled between her legs, and the harshness with which she sucked on Spike's cock matched the way he drove into her, her pussy throbbed in need and Buffy removed her encircling touch from him to relieve the tension. Slipping two fingers into her wetness, shuddering at the contact made to her clit, Buffy rubbed herself roughly before dipping inside her pussy to alleviate some of the begging need to have Spike there instead.

She hummed in pleasure and then in surprise when Spike growled so fiercely she felt it in her bones. She looked up at his face, and almost gasped around his cock. He swallowed her whole with his yellow stare, hunger and impatient need sitting there as he watched her finger herself and suck him off at the same time.

She knew what it was, why that combination of unsatisfied lust and greed glittered in his eyes. He wanted to be touching her, he wanted her pussy walls clenching around his cock, but the desire to spill his seed down her throat kept him in place, kept him holding onto her hair as he helped push his erection between her lips over and over again.

Finally, like an overwhelming crescendo, Spike moaned and snarled as his hips jerked violently beneath her bobbing head. He froze her movements and roughly pumped himself between her hollowed out cheeks, while Buffy thrust her fingers deeper and faster into her body.

His abdomen tightened, and he cried out just before a snarl of "Fucking hell!" left his lips. She worked her throat muscles to take everything he gave her, happily noting that his taste was certainly bearable, if a little strong. Spike's hands held her steady, and her fingers worked frantically to bring her some kind of release, but focus on making sure she swallowed every last drop distracted from reaching her own peak, and Buffy hummed in delight when she felt Spike relax beneath her.

She heard him breathing in gulps of shaky air, and it made Buffy smile around him. She very slowly let his cock slip from her lips, and her hand moved from between his heavy legs to spread out over his chiseled abdomen. She laid her head on his hip and continued to work herself with her fingers, albeit at a much calmer speed now.

It took maybe five seconds for Spike to reach down and haul her body on top of his. Buffy's gasp was swallowed by his kiss, inhaling her, greedily biting at her lips. He grasped the hand that was caught between her thighs and pulled it up, breaking away from her mouth to suck on the coated digits. He kept her wrist still and gently licked away her juices, being careful not to nick her with his fangs. He moaned in delight and Buffy felt another pool of moisture gather at her apex. Her whimpered "Unh" didn't do much except make Spike chuckle, and it certainly didn't sate any cravings.

Before she could worry over whether he was going to torture her or not, and find a way to haul ass to the bathroom and work herself off if he chose to try and be just as evil as he often claimed he was, Spike let go of her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her now clean fingers. "Teacher says: You get an A." He met her eyes, his ridges and fangs looking somehow more sinister for the smile he bestowed upon her. "But you lose credit for cheating."

Buffy frowned, even as frantic desire buzzed hotly in her veins. "I don't-"

She found herself flipped yet again, landing on her back and Spike poised above her with clear intent. "It's not fair, teasing a bloke with that tasty quim of yours while he's getting sucked off. Makes it difficult to choose what he wants." Spike leaned in and kissed her hot cheeks, then her neck, until finally he grazed her throat with his fangs and whispered, "Besides, I know of a few things you like much better than just your own fingers inside you."

She didn't have time to say a single word. Spike crawled down her body with the speed of an impatient, hungry predator, and began circling and massaging her clit with his tongue. Buffy gasped and groaned and whimpered throughout it all, a smile plastered on her face as he tortured, tasted, and finally sent her flying.

A scream of completion came with momentary deafness, but during the rush, a fond, beautiful emotional tide sped through Buffy like a wave. The kind of heartwarming, steadying knowledge that allowed for pure abandonment of every concern and fret. She felt Spike's love for her, and she felt the sturdy holding of the claim, the connection that had brought them together and would never cease to keep them that way.

She felt peace, and a sense of coming home.
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END NOTES: Please review and let me know what you thought! (I promise the plot returns in the next chapter.)
The title for this chapter was inspired by a song with the same name: "Never Like This" by Danielle Bradbery. I highly recommend listening to it on youtube! :)





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