[Reviews - 18]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1952 times

- Text Size +




Spike walked to her as she spilt the words, like a glass of milk being tipped over. Emotions, were being tipped over.

Buffy took up his lips with hers. The kiss was gentle, but hungry. Spike released her mouth and attacked her neck. Wet intense kisses were placed down Buffy's neck, and covered her collar bone. Buffy's hands entangled themselves in his platinum blonde curls, as his hands weaved around her waist and back. Spike began trying to undo the buttons on her shirt. They were unyielding.

“I just...I need this off.” He ripped her blouse in half, and threw the shreded pieces away.

A cool breeze washed over her enflamed skin. She wasn't sure if his cool kisses were heating, or cooling.

Spike quickly threw his shirt off and discarded it the way he had the shreddings of Buffy's shirt. Spike began lightly kissing at her neck once again. Buffy could feel his cool, unneeded breaths tickle and tease her skin.

“Take your shoes off.” Spike whispered. In an instant, Buffy's socks and tennis shoes were off, as were Spike's boots.

Spike took up Buffy's lips once again. Buffy hoisted herself onto Spike's waist as their tongues continued to battle it out. The sudden assult caused Spike to topple over, taking Buffy with him. Neither one of them realized they were suddenly in the grass.

Spike, with both hands, reached down between the couple laying on their sides, and began working at the button on Buffy's pants. It didn't take him long to realize that there was no button. They were the kind of pants that just zipped up.

When he found the zipper he unzipped her pants. Buffy turned on her back so he could take them off of her easier.

“Lift your hips up, luv.” Spike whispered. Soon the pants were off, and Buffy was left in her bra and underwear. Spike couldn't help but stop and stare. God......she was a vision. She was almost too perfect to be real...like a picture, something painted.

Spike ran his hand down her stomach and down the side of her leg. The pants Spike had on, felt suddenly binding. His skin itched and hummed for her. The material became to itchy and suffocating. He quickly stripped himself of his pants and discarded them.

Everything was happening so fast... flashes of passion and fiery....Bufy everything froze when he looked back on her. She laid there, her skin flushed, her body acheing. His eyes found hers..He saw the strangest thing in them... It looked like a hint of fear. She never said anything....She looked so meek, fragile..so vunerable laying there.

*oh god...where is he? Is he still here? Did he leave me here? Cold and naked? What an ironic place to leave me....a cemetery.*

All of Buffy's brazen strength and ability to see Spike faded into the unyielding black. She didn't want to move, or call to him, what if he was there? What if he could see that she was scared when she felt alone? She hated feeling vunerable, and for the gazillionth time, she wished she had her vision back.

“Buffy?” Spike called to her softly. She could hear him, despite the clouded fogs of black. Relief flooded over her, knowing he was still so close, and that he hadn't left her. More relief flooded over her when she realized, she hadn't let him know she was scared.

“Hmmm?” She answered.
“Are you alright?” Spike asked softly. A twinge of anxiety flooded through her. *Crap, crap, crap. There's no way he could know...*

The fear assauged when he said her name. He watched it go, and relief come. He wasn't sure if she knew it or not, but she was actually shivering. Was it that cold out there? He wouldn't know. Cold didn't bother him.

“Yeah.” She answered. Spike reached for his duster.
“Stand up.” He ordered gently. Buffy knit her brow, but stood. Once she was standing, Spike wrapped his duster around her and picked her up, and began walking towards the crypt. He left everything else there. Her tattered ripped shirt, her pants, socks, shoes....his pants, his shirt, his boots. Everything. The only thing he wanted to take.....was Buffy.

Buffy didn't need to ask where she was being carried, she already knew.

When they reached the crypt, Spike kicked the door open, and then kicked it shut behind them. He vaguely thought about how he was able to walk through the cemetery naked... But only for an instant.

Spike somehow managed to carry her down the the latter to the lower level of his crypt. He carried her over to the bed, and laid her down on it, still wrapped up in his duster. Buffy heard him walk around a bit, and then she heard the flickering of a lighter. She guessed he was lighting candles, because she couldn't hear him inhaling anything, so he couldn't have been smoking.

Spike only lit two candles before he went back to the bed. Buffy was sitting up, still wrapped in his duster.

The fear was no were to be seen in her eyes. Sitting up in the postion she was in, made her look like a linx.God, what a vixen she was, teasing him this way.

Spike walked in front of her, and began kissing her while getting up on the bed. He gently pushed her back. Spike, while kissing Buffy still, put his hand behind her head and gently guided it to the pillow.

Buffy felt chills amble up and down her spine, and travel in circles in her stomach at his act of pure tenderness.

Spike let up, and looked down at her....God she was wonderful. He wanted to see her.

Spike took the duster off to unveil her beauty. More chills from cool air carressed Buffy's heated skin.

She felt so hot. Like she was burning up from the inside... She needed Spike to touch her, feel her, run his hands over her body....anything, anything to get this burning sensation to stop. But she didn't have to tell him this. He already knew. She felt his weight shift and she felt his strong hands on either side of her head. This was the safest she'd ever felt. She was enclosed in him, and nothing could happen to her now. She was safe.

Spike's mouth moved to Buffy's neck. He kissed her right were the back of her jaw line met her neck. She loved when he kissed her there. He knew it too. He knew body....He knew her. Sometimes it drove her crazy how well he knew her. He knew where to kiss, knew where to caress, knew what to touch, what to taste, what to tease, where to lick......

“I *want* somthing from you...” Spike said in another provacotive whisper.
“Mmm. What do you want? To coddle me?” She made a little purr sound in her throat. ”To touch me? I'll let you this time.” She said in a sensual tone. She wanted him to hold her, touch her, feel her....coddle her body.....herself. Spike chuckled.
“No..”
“Then what do you want?” She asked, deffensivly. Spike licked his lips, a smirk lifting them.
“To dance with you.” He whispered. He wanted her energy back...he wanted to provoke her, prod her, push her to the edge.....and make her let go. Like she had in the cemetery. Like he knew she wanted. A fire blazed in her eyes, and her skin burned of a fiery lust.
“You want to dance?” Buffy asked provocativly. No longer was she whispering. Peace had already been disturbed. Buffy smirked.

Before Spike knew what happend, she had flipped them over. She was on him, and he was laying on his back. She looked down at him. Her eyes burned into his, so blindly intense.

“Only if I get to dance too.” She said. She could see him again...his face, his eyes, his lips. She swore she saw him lick his lips. She knew how to wipe that smirk off his face. With a smirk of her own, she swiveled her hips just a little. His erection rubbed agaisnt her leg. She heard him moan. Buffy felt wicked, and sinful.....she was loving it.

She did it again. She heard Spike moan again, and the grasp on her hips tightened. Buffy bent her knees and then slid back up.

“Oh god Buffy..” He moaned again. His voice was cracking, as he was trying to control himself. Buffy just smiled wickedly. She knew what she was doing to him. Buffy put her lips by his ear.

“Mmmm.” She mewled. ”I know you want me..” She whispered in a low, throaty voice, turning the tables on him. ”I can taste you.” She said, mirroring exactly what he said earlier. Buffy moved her mouth down by the base of his neck, and licked him up to his jaw line. He moaned at the white hot contact of her tongue on his neck.

She was torturing him. Spike knew it. This was enough. It takes two, to tango.

Spike made his actions quick. He grabbed her wrists with one hand, then used his other to take her underneath him.

Once she was on her back, Spike held her wrists with his one hand above her hand. Buffy struggled, but she couldn't get her hands loose. Maybe it was because she was only trying half heartidly..........

Spike smirked. His turn.

“Let me feel you...” He whispered. He put his hand flat on the right side of her torso. He slowly dragged it downward. His hand traveled over her breast. Buffy mewled as the palm of his hand passed over her nipple. His hand traveled over her bronzed stomach. And still, his hand went lower yet. Spike trailed a single finger down between her inner thighs. He was careful not to touch the places she needed to be touched the most.

“You feel good...” He whispered. Buffy mewled softly.
“I want to feel *you.*” Buffy tried again to free her hands, but he held them too tight above her head.

“Oh god...Spike-”
”Shh...” He put a finger over her lips and smirked evilly. “You said you wanted to dance...didn't you?” He said as his fingers found her clit. Buffy cried out as he began to stroke her. As his hand explored the sensitive nerves between Buffy's legs, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her deeply.

Buffy could feel her muscles tighten around his finger. Spike's mouth moved from her lips, and attacked her neck. The pressure inside of her finnally burst as an orgasm tore through her. She quavered and shook as she came. Spike watched her. She watched him.

Spike removed his hand from between her thighs, and put them in his mouth, tasteing her. Buffy's breathing became all the more labored when she felt him position himself above her. She could feel his strong hands at either side of her face.

Spike looked at Buffy, lying beneath him, flushed, sheened with persperation....god she looked so beautiful. Exactly like she had looked after they fought in the cemetery.

Again Buffy could feel herself aching for him. She wanted him inside her. Nothing more. She could see him...but only him. It was strange. She knew she didn't rightfully have her vision back....but god..her vision of him was clear.

Her vague thoughts were tore through as he slipped inside her. Spike watched as her face twisted and contorted in pleasure as he began slowly moving inside of her. It was all he could do, not to thrust harder, much faster...but he didn't want to bruise her, or hurt her. All he wanted was to love her.

Buffy's hands moved eratically above her head, trying to grasp something, anything, to stablize herself. Her neck arched, and her head slowly moved this way and that.

“Hold on to me.” Spike suggested, as she continued to blindly search for something to grab onto. Buffy stopped, and looked up at him. She could almost see what he doing....she could almost see his eyes....Oh god..those eyes..If she could really look into them...all of her would be stabilized.

“Hold onto me.” He said to her again. Spike lightly kissed her on the lips..the contact was so light..it was barely there. Spike thrust into her.

“Oh god....” Buffy mewled loudly. Her hands involuntarily grasped him. She clung to him, as though he were her only life support, her only sight, her only sound..her only breath. But how could she find breath in the unliving? Something had to be alive in him. Something inside of him had to be breathing...

At the same time, how could he find sight...vision.. in the blind? She couldn't see him. Not even with her eyes open, seeing clearly, working properly.. He'd turned her around, pointed it out to her. But some vision had to be in her...she had to have seen him...And she did. Right now, he was all she could see. An image of him burned into her, watching her in her own head, surrounded by black.

Spike continued to thrust into her. For a while it was all she could do, but lie there, and feel him inside her. But that quickly grew old, and she grew restless. She began moving more, moving into his thrusts, finding, and founding a rythem...a song...something tuned to thier dance. Spike moved faster as he felt that his control was slipping away. He grasped for it...but it was now out of his reach, and now he just reached to her. The one, laying, and writhing beneath him.

Buffy, the Slayer of all things dead and evil..the untouchable, unattainable to all things with evil within their very being. Try after try, swipe after swipe, they tried to get her, lay their hands on her, take her, but they couldn't take her, she'd kill them in a match. But here he was, thought of as evil. Dancing with her, still alive. No evil could take her, but her she was, beneath him, taken.

Buffy moaned, and mewled as Spike thrust into her, the presure inside them both building. Thrust after thrust he made into her, she responded without missing a beat, thrusting into him. Meeting him halfway.
That seered image of him surrounded in black, became more clear with each of their thrusts. More things surrounded him. Like the dim light of the candles that she heard him light. Spike thrust into her again. The black began to fade away, and be replaced by true vision. The vision she had lost in the vampire attack some days ago....Just as she was able to see everything, Spike thrust into her, hard, and she met him, one last time. Buffy closed her eyes tight as she came. An orgasm rippled through her body, causing her to tremor, and shake.
“Equally matched...” She said, finnally letting her hips fall back to the bed.
***************
A/N: I don't know...something is just off about this chapter...what do you guys think it is? I can't put my finger on it..what should've been changed? So many things took place in this chapter..I just don't think I delivered them properly..sorry!





You must login (register) to review.