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"Buffy..."

He grabbed her, and if he hadn't she would have done it first. Hands of steel clamped around shoulders, pulling her in for a vastly inappropriate kiss. He ignored their audience, but after a sensual minute Buffy forced herself away. "Not here," she whispered hurriedly, grabbing his hand. "C'mon."

They raced from the gym and out into the hall. While doing so one of the freshman coat checkers had sense enough to call out and stop them. He had already retrieved their things. In a moment of resignation, anticipation turning Spike's movements jerky, he took their coats, Buffy's purse, and the matter was done. He helped her rush into warm sleeves then stole her hand again.

"Aren't you going to be cold?" she asked as they trekked the familiar, quiet halls.

"Not possible right now, love." He carried her purse and his duster all the way to the exit, and they slammed through the doors with fervor.

The DeSoto was waiting patiently. He let Buffy in and closed her door, striding to the driver's side.

Spike sat down and found her right there, up against his ribcage. The bench seat was cold on the other side, holding her gleaming award and nothing more. "Drive fast." Buffy's teeth chattered before he kissed her hungrily. Spike started the ignition blindly and gave the car little more than ten seconds to warm up, finally tearing away from her mouth to speed out of the parking lot.

Buffy stayed beside him, hugging his arm. She threw her purse and his coat to the place she ought to be sitting. The former made a clink noise when the metal zipper hit window glass. Artificial heat was slowly filling their space, but she shivered all the same.

Just as Spike was about to make a left turn, Buffy stopped him and said, "Your house."

He sputtered like an idiot. "What?"

"Your house." She grew suddenly shy, but bravery forged of need that filled her voice, breathing fire into his soul. "We have some old memories I'd like to... replace with new ones... there."

He swallowed hard, not daring to hope. "If that's... You sure that's what you want?" Spike kept his foot firmly on the brake.

"It is." Her gaze was steady. "Go."

So, he turned right. Practically flying down a deserted street mile marked by clumps of snow and layers of salt. It took longer to get to his house than hers, but there was something important here. Something worth the extra time and pain of impatience.

Something in need of mending.

When they reached his towering house of old stone and brick, Buffy tensed. A moment of panic welled within his gut as he felt her turn away, but she eradicated it by climbing out of the vehicle and striding for his front door. Spike was right behind her.

He fumbled with the keys hiding somewhere in his sagging duster's pockets. It took a full minute to get the door open, he was shaking so hard. She huddled close until the heat of the living room engulfed them like a warm invitation.

Spike tossed his coat at the couch and watched Buffy from a distance. He tried to quiet his heaving breaths, but the task proved almost impossible. Nerve endings tightened all up and down his back. She removed her own coat gently, and he approached to take it.

Buffy watched Spike hang the garment on a hook near the door. Her eyes traveled the walls. She honestly felt as if she had never been inside this house before. The surroundings weren't familiar at all. The living room was dim because only one lamp was lit in the far corner. From here she could see a little hallway- one of two -leading to somewhere else, and the edge of a carpeted staircase.

That, she remembered. She remembered running down it with fear and panic turning her weightless. In an instant a knot coiled in Buffy's stomach.

She turned to him with bleak eyes, and Spike thought he felt the floor vanish. Then she came closer, and said, "Make me forget."

Emotion blurred his vision, severe and cold and rough. He pulled her in, trying not to whimper his own regrets, "I'm sorry. I know I can't make it right. Know it, but..."

"No." She pulled back. "Don't do that. We've done this. It's finished, and I'm past it." She started to tug at his suit jacket until it slipped from his arms. "Let's leave it there."

She kissed him again. Faint as a brushstroke, making certain it didn't feel forced or hard. He had to understand this was what she wanted; what she craved, needed, and that the desperation living behind his mouth was all for naught.

But as Spike mauled her lips apart, somewhere deep down Buffy never wanted the desperation to stop. Not entirely. It was so addictively real, echoing the truth of his feelings alongside a reminder that love came in hundreds of different shades. Sometimes the brightest were the hardest to contain, to understand, but the very greatest ones to claim.

Framing his jaw in her hands, Buffy let him taste. A moan settled behind her throat while tongues collided, moving against one another. She walked backwards, towards that staircase, and was astonished to feel her feet leave the ground before hitting the first step. Spike lifted her in his arms and carried her securely to the second floor.

One glance at the hallway over his shoulder as they breeched a threshold, and the rest was left to mystery. She was certain she would have the chance to learn the rest of this house soon enough, but now was not the time. She recalled dusty picture frames and red carpeting, forgotten sheets, dirty windows, a dark room, but that was all.

Spike shut the door with his foot and Buffy kicked off her shoes. He set her down on bare toes. She held tightly to him, made him kiss her again. Fierce heartbeats thundered beneath her breastbone. Their tongues twined together as hands grabbed and tugged. She was unbuttoning his dress shirt, spreading it apart. His pale chest stood out in the darkness. Nothing but moonlight from a single window gifted them with shadows.

A moment gone and his lips were at her throat, nipping teeth helping themselves to sensitive patches of skin. Pleasure climbed her neck, shivers racing after it. The area between her legs grew satiny and damp and Buffy's stomach clenched.

Her fingers fanned across his chest, skin she already knew. Skin she was prepared to relearn, and learn better this time. She wanted to know every sensitive inch of him.

Spike grabbed her hips, pinning them to his own while his lips worked over her throbbing pulse. Heady gasps brushed his ears. Warmth turned into pure fire, sparks pinging all across his back and abdomen.

Angled against the wall, Spike spun them around, pressed her back there instead. The overhead switch beside the door flipped up. Light engulfed the room and a resplendent sigh left her lips.

He returned to her open mouth, taking her tongue into his own. Buffy kept him still so she could explore, gripping his nape. Meanwhile, his fingers were tugging on the soft neckline of her dress. His words came inside a breath. "You look beautiful in plum, love."

She moaned appreciatively and tugged him home again. The sexy little dress refused to move any lower than he wanted. Spike grunted in aggravation and reached around her back with one hand, locating the zipper. He got it halfway open before impatiently seeking her skin.

Smooth, milky complexion warmed and tingled beneath his fingertips. A gasp broke their mouths apart, her breath hitching as he grazed what was bare around her wavering strapless bra. He reached around again to take the garment off, when suddenly it sagged to reveal firm rosy nipples. Buffy shuddered as he touched gently. A stroking hand, then another.

He felt the supple bumps and swells, the differences between breast and tender pinkness. He pinched the reaching buds as her throat stretched into a fine arc. He was drawn there again. Marking the skin purple, no doubt, but Spike couldn't find a will to care. In fact, he rather liked the idea.

Buffy squeezed his wrists. The soft, wet glide of his tongue made her shiver. Her breasts felt heavier. Her cries grew quiet, but he didn't stop touching her. His hands felt wonderful, like the warm sparks from a fire. Whines of pleasure built as he kissed her skin alive.

Buffy's left hand wove into his hair, mussing curls incurably. She used the other to work on his belt. The buckle came undone easily enough, but the loops gave her trouble. She wretched it free after Spike dipped to suckle her breast.

She gasped and arched against the wall, belt falling from stiff fingertips. He nibbled and teased without care to stop. Her flesh felt tingly and supple by the time he moved to the other nipple, not wanting to neglect. Her nails were raking his scalp.

"Spike.... Oh, God." She hissed beneath a hard bite. Pleasure followed like a storm, raining across her nerves and drawing them up. She began to wriggle out of her dress and bra, fighting with zipper and hooks until finally, the fussy garments fell to the floor.

Spike pulled back, eyes alight. Her dress pooled around her feet and there was nothing but a flimsy bit of lace keeping her covered. Impatiently he teased the edge, tracing her hipbone and marveling at the sight in front of him. "Bloody gorgeous."

She curled up and brought her legs together, rubbing them as if to get warm. Slipping under his chin, Buffy stole Spike's lips for another frantic kiss.

She felt his hands framing her chin and jaw, gliding into her hair and tugging her as close as he could get her. Mouths turned harsh, desperate, biting. Then, with sudden heat and thunder, her measly underwear were ripped away. Literally, torn off her body, to be replaced by prying, gentle fingers.

She moaned heavily and opened a little for him, breathing fast when Spike pulled back. Gazes met. "Buffy... you want this? You want me?"

"Yes."

"Here?" He pressed on her delicate flesh, heel of his rough hand against her pubic bone. "You want me this close?"

"Yes." She breathed in his doubt and exhaled reassurance. "Please... need you."

He didn't waste time, didn't wait or make her beg again. Satisfaction of another's had never felt so damn good to her. Pressure found her throbbing clit, a firm touch sliding against her wet skin, deeper, between folds as soft as melted wax and coarse curls.

The heat gathered in his palm, slickness easing the glide of one finger into her body. Buffy's knees spread a little farther. Spike just watched. Counting every gasp or moan leaving and permeating her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly and witness her undoing at the same time. He settled for brush meetings of tongue and teeth while her hips writhed against his hand.

It came slowly, but he was content to stay there all night until she uncoiled like a ribbon. Buffy didn't disappoint. Pinching and teasing were the starters, but it finished with a great wave. Cries triggered by flush, insistent contact. Rubbing on moist folds and a tiny pearl of flesh. Penetrating. Seeping. Buffy moaned against his jaw and open mouth, gasping for completion. Timid at first, then louder, more desperate, until nearly her entire weight was pushing into the whole of his hand. Two fingers curled shallowly inside her as she rode it out, while at the last second Spike took what he craved and plunged a bit too deep. Feeling her tremble from the outside in, as wet fire drenched his skin.

Buffy was catching her breath when he stole it, pressing his hard erection into her bare hip and milking her for all she had to give. She melted. Against the wall and his body she found strength to stand. Her legs were useless for nearly a minute.

His hand was coaxed from her pussy after moments died, by her, not by him; he couldn't think past feeling.

Then, she stroked his cock inside his trousers and Spike whimpered helplessly. They had tented long ago. She freed him, wrapped feminine fingers around hard muscle and pumped him slowly. Warm and gentle. Their eyes met for a simple, extraordinary moment; what he found was lust and tender, waning completion.

She kissed him lazily. Spike breathed through his nose and grabbed her wrists. The action forced Buffy to let go of his cock.

He spiraled them towards the bed. She hastily sat on the edge, breaking from him, then relieving him of his slacks. Spike mercilessly toed off his tight shoes. They were new and he regretted having doubled the laces just before they sprang off and clattered to the floor. Next were the socks, and in a moment he was as naked as she.

Only he didn't look half as good, in his opinion. Buffy finished just in time with his trousers to smile and rise hastily from the bed. Her perky breasts were lifted immediately into his hands; Spike never noticed he had growled.

Buffy swallowed. She stroked his abdomen, toned and taught like a wire, ridged all the way down to his hipbones. She teased the base of his straining cock and said, "I want to feel you inside me. Mouth, body... all of it."

He pressed her nipples in then tugged fast. Spike released them in a heartbeat to grasp her nape and haul her close. "Later," he muttered, one hand still busy with her breasts. "Let me have you to myself right now."

She was about to say she was his. Right then and there, she admitted it. Saw how she could easily belong here, in his bed and under his body. She felt like she was in the thick of it now. Buffy just never had the bravery or the will or the want to say it to him, not until tonight.

Tonight things were clear. The road ahead was hilly but she knew she could manage it. Spike's hands and spirit and devotion, and yes even his love, made her future appear that much steadier.

But words were hard to come by when impatience became a virtue. Spike toppled her to the mattress, then dragged them both to the head of it. Her hair pressed into a comforter weighing down soft pillows. Before she opened for his kiss, as that was what she thought Spike was about to do, he slid down her body and past her hips.

Her thighs were tossed over his strong shoulders, and before she could so much as ask why, he tongued her clit. "Oh!"

Spike took her folds between his lips and suckled hungrily. Wet against wet, his tongue moved lower and dipped inside her pussy for a devilish swirl that collected drops of musky dew. A shine gathered across his mouth. Buffy arched off the bed and grasped his head, holding him gently in place. Her sighs and whines decorated the air. Rough fingers clutched her hips, the curve of her ass rested on the insides of his forearms. He couldn't be any closer.

Now she knew what he'd meant when he said he wanted her to himself.

Spike was submerged in memory, while the present pounded against his chest. He recalled the last time she'd let him do this, what felt like ages ago. The taste of her hadn't changed, if anything, she was mercifully familiar. He loved that. He yearned to have her this way every day, as much for Buffy as for himself. He wanted to get as deep as he could, part her silky folds and trace them with his tongue in the morning to wake her up. He wanted to fall asleep with her flavor in his mouth. He wanted to be able to lift her skirt at any random point in the day and steal a sip.

Greed took hold. Spike wasn't able to tease anymore, not like last time. That had been a beautiful exploration. While this... this was fresh hunger, pure and simple. A claiming of sorts. Buffy was spread out on his bed, parting her legs for him and begging to be filled again.

Spike complied readily, thrusting deep, dragging the point of his tongue across the roof of her pussy. A whimper sounded above, causing him to grin.

He slipped out, the heel of his hand rubbing her peaking clit. "D'you like that, love?"

"Yes..."

A chuckle. He pressed in close. "Good. 'Cause I'm gettin' quite spoiled. Might need to have a taste of you every hour."

She moaned, and he consumed her again. "N-Not complaining..."

Spike mouthed the top portion of her throbbing peach, full tongue writhing against flushed petals and stroking the round softness of her clit. It felt like a little jellybean, sweet and smooth, with the power to make Buffy's thighs clench and jerk. He saw her stomach muscles ripple with strain. But when he drew a finger down, and thrust it to the knuckle inside her pussy, that was when she cried out.

"Yes, right... there. Mm... Oh, God."

His eyes rolled up in his head, a groan reverberating against her flesh. He added a second finger. Sodden walls clenched around him, pulsating, trembling. He pushed harder, moving in time with her hips. A high pitched sob fell from her throat.

Buffy looked down, sweating, breathing heavy as she found Spike watching her steadily. His face remained so close his nose teased her pubic bone, peeking just above the edge. She felt his fingers on the inside, stroking, pressing into sensitive corners. Fast pumps and curved knuckles, his entire mouth rubbing against her swollen lips and tingling clit. Pressure burrowed deeper and deeper until her body tightened from the inside out.

Spike moaned the next time she did, and that was it. He dragged the sound out while she writhed and cum filled his mouth. He licked her into a torrent of fire. His fingers thrust faster so she felt a deep throb spiraling down her center. Her clit hummed and Buffy's back tensed, bowing high off the bed. Waves of desperation fogged the room.

Her hands held him there needlessly, and her drags of air that followed the explosion preceded his hungry grunts of satisfaction. She felt them hitting on every receding flutter of pleasure. Buffy started to shake.

Heat drained energy from her muscles. Her fingers felt like rubber as she stroked Spike's hair, beckoning, "Come here."

He detached slowly, eyes fierce and locked with hers as he climbed up her body. The slide of his fingers from her pussy made her breath catch, and he saw it. "Don't fret, I've got you now." And his hand returned, tenderly stroking the exhausted pearl between her legs. Buffy dragged him down for a kiss.

She could make out the aftertaste on his tongue and lips, but it didn't bother her. She broke away. "Want you. Now."

"M'here," he said, shifting and tucking his hips between her spread thighs. "M'always here."

"Prove it," she muttered, too low for him to hear. She was sure he thought it a whimper. A moment more and she was going to tug him closer, lift her hips and-

His cock brushed her center. Buffy inhaled quickly. His hand came up and she felt fingers softly stroke her face, his other arm slipping beneath her back. Lifting, hugging tight, her nipples met the solid wall of Spike's chest. Buffy pressed her heels into the back of his thighs. Their gazes held on the thrust, forward and smooth. Inside. Air left her lungs on a gasp. Spike trembled. She could feel him, breathing harsh and fast. Their torsos fused together.

He pulled out, quickly making a desperate drive back to her. Mouths open, gasps of new knowledge escalated into starved moans. An incompleteness urged her to lift up for his every thrust. She locked her knees around his waist, keeping him close. Gazes locked.

She felt a tantalizing glide, his body trying to part from hers again with the natural aim to return. She stopped him halfway. "Wait... stay. Closer. Want you closer."

"Yes, fuck, yes..." Spike sunk inside her again, and never strayed too far after that. His cock stroked the inner heat and velvety tunnel with desperate reserve. Fast, or agonizingly slow, switching angles to touch every secret curve he could. "God, Buffy..."

Her warmth burned him in a way he'd never felt. All the while he stared helplessly, speechless, into her eyes. Eyes of true green, the ones he used to dream about. The ones he used to think would never glaze over with passion as they stared back at him.

Buffy's lashes fluttered closed for a moment, but sprang back open as he drove his cock down then up. He wanted to keep her looking at him. He needed to know this was real.

His hard body caressed her soft one in the ways it knew how, promising, teasing, pleasuring. He made sure to hit her clit on every shallow return, capturing her desperate sighs inside vivid moans.

The words in his heart fought to break out, but he was scared to let them. Scared saying what she had once believed to be no more than obsession, a joke, might propel this heaven out of reach. As the heat climbed and his back started to sweat, Spike screwed his eyes shut for a short moment.

If he kept looking at her like this he'd never last, and God, he wanted this to last. But there was nothing sweeter than proof of the moment... Reaffirmation, promise. Watching her gaze fill with lust and pleasure.

"Kiss me," she demanded.

He descended restlessly, moaning at the first touch. Tastes were everywhere in this world, but none of them compared to her. Buffy tangled their tongues together, slid hers along the roof of his mouth and flat edges of his teeth.

After several hot, writhing moments without air, she broke free and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their foreheads were touching, her eyes slipped to the place where she could feel him inside her.

Then he realized he had other words besides the heavy ones in his chest that would suffice for now. They bombarded his mind and drowned his fears in hunger.

"Look there, baby," he said, slowing his drives to better accentuate the feeling. His cock slid partway out of her body, glistening and hard. She whimpered. "See what you do to me... what we're creatin' here..."

She nodded and he felt the brush of her nose against his. Spike stole another kiss, sinking deep. He groaned for what could have been the hundredth time. "Never felt anything like you... Amazing. So hot... sweet. Soft. God, you're soft..." Her wetness hugged and throbbed around his cock. Spike surged forward again, clutching her back. He felt her skin descend beneath his fingertips.

Buffy arched welcomingly, arms weaving around his waist, nails scaling his working spine. Hips rolled and she dug her feet into the firmness of his body. Stronger, harder. She moaned his name.

Spike bent and kissed her throat, licking the tenderly bruised skin, biting playfully. Her nipples dragged softly against his chest. Buffy wriggled underneath him, attempted to draw more pressure against her clit, to keep his cock from leaving her body at all. But he fought her, clutching tighter and gasping at her neck. He drew out completely for the first time in forever, making her tremble with a sense of loss.

Spike started a fierce rhythm, kept her pinned. The gentle but deep stabs they had been working with became furious drives. She held him tighter, moaning half spoken words in his ear. They were as close as humanly possible, his cock going as deep as her womb would allow.

Spike left her throat suddenly and looked into her eyes again. His were shining with strain. "What's that?"

She gasped in response. She couldn't recall what she'd said.

"You want me to stay here, inside, s'that it?" One furious nod, a green stare with magnified black centers. "Want me as close as you can have me... my cock warm and tucked up inside you, like this?"

"God, Spike..."

He plunged deeper yet again, and stayed there, rocking against her. Buffy let out a broken sound.

"Like this, right, love? Nothing else between us. As deep as I can get. Comin' up on your womb, feelin' every beautiful muscle massagin' my cock like you were made for me."

She cried out, squeezing her thighs around him. Pressure rose and her eyes fell shut.

"You were," he said heatedly, still riding her, still a part of her. "You were made for me. Know it now. Nothing could feel this good... an' right. Nothing. Mine. You're mine... Please be..."

She felt the furious whisper cascade across her cheek, falling with the rest of the warmth in the room atop her chest. Her hips slammed up and sensation overwhelmed. She came with a loud moan that sounded a lot like Spike's name, his cock driven and staked in place, bodies rolling together. Her neck arced painfully, muscles tensing beneath her shining skin. Wave after wave collapsed, and soon she felt his hands fall to her ass, gripping hard. A groan resembling a snarl erupted and she felt Spike come with a devastating thrust just as she was riding the last torrent of ardent friction.

A series of trembling sighs left Buffy's mouth, and Spike descended on her with a gasp. His body was stiff one moment and boneless the next.

She lay beneath him. Smiling weakly, cool air slipping in and out of her throat, she felt his breath pattering against her collarbone. Buffy lazily stroked his damp shoulder, wriggled, then looked up when he shifted.

He was still gasping, but his eyes... they shone with a kind of weary peace Buffy had never seen.

"You're amazing," he said. Their noses brushed.

"Likewise," Buffy whispered blushingly. Her hands found his chest. She smiled brightly. "I knew it- that we would be... you know, good, but I never realized..."

His reverent expression changed not at all when he grinned. "I did. I knew we'd be bloody incredible together." A leer soaked her up. "Couldn't not be, with the way you move..."

She laughed. "The way I move?"

"Just watchin' you walk down the street gives me a hard-on, love," he said baldly. "So no, wasn't too tricky of a wager. 'Sides, we've always had somethin' here..."

Buffy ran one palm along his cheek. "Yeah. We have."

Spike kissed her warmly, then fell to the mattress, lying on his arm and facing her. In doing this, his cock slipped from her heat and they both issued a joint, wordless complaint. He immediately tugged Buffy against him.

She felt her breasts frame the top of his chest and curled closer. "You know, what you said..." He waited for her to continue, patient and watchful. "About the... being yours thing?"

Tension slowly seeped into his expression. Spike's eyes sparkled with uncertainty. He blinked a few times and looked down. His hand unknowingly squeezed her waist. "What about it?" he muttered.

"It works both ways."

He looked up, nearly astonished. "It what now?"

"Works both ways," Buffy repeated. She smiled gently, somewhat timid and shy. "I don't plan on sharing you with anyone, so..."

"No arguments on this end." Spike tackled her again, parting her lips with an ardent kiss that made her squeal and laugh. After a minute she started to moan, then to shiver.

The shivering caught his attention first once he pulled back. "Are you cold?" Spike panted.

"A little," she admitted. The open air and cooling sweat was definitely having an effect, but that wasn't the only reason she trembled.

Spike didn't care much about pride, though. He immediately lifted her to yank the comforter out from underneath them. Buffy slinked into soft white sheets a moment later and Spike returned to her, draping the heavy red blanket across their bodies.

She cuddled close again, deciding then to nibble on his throat. Spike stroked her hair. He found the clip she'd forgotten about and removed it. She was somewhat surprised it hadn't broken or fallen out. Buffy suddenly felt his nose at the crown of her forehead, and his hands playing in her fallen highlights.

Spike inhaled the smell of fruity shampoo and something unnamed. Something that made his senses rise. He finger combed her hair for a while, smiling when Buffy quit nipping his neck to sigh and rest her head on his shoulder.

"Tired, kitten?"

"Maybe a little." She yawned, then tried to cover it. "I think it's the work catching up with me. And with what happened tonight... the dance... everything." She moved a hand over his chest, hugging the other shoulder. "Would you care if... I mean, is it okay if I sleep here awhile?"

"If you think I'm letting you out of this bed within the next day and a half, you've gone barmy."

She looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on the golden locks slipping through his busy fingers. "'Barmy?'" He'd said the word before, but only now was she taking note. "Isn't that, like, warm or hot or something?"

Spike smirked. "Well, you are that, too, pet, don't get me wrong. But no. You're thinkin' of 'balmy.' 'Barmy' means nuts."

"Oh." She frowned then, hitting him on the chest before absently wondering why Giles never taught her that one. "Hey!"

Spike chuckled good naturedly. "You can sleep, love, so long as it's here, in my bed. I've wanted this too long to let you off just yet."

She stifled a grin. It probably wasn't smart to encourage this. "So what, I'm captive for the next twenty-four hours?"

"Likely forty-eight."

She sighed and closed her eyes, still wading in the lullaby of Spike's attentive hands. "I'd better call Anya tomorrow and ask her to open on Sunday."
_______________________

END NOTES: Thanks for reading! Next chapter coming soon.





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