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A/N: This part is NC-17. The first smut scene I’ve ever written, so be gentle.

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Part Four – Reunion

“I swore I’d never try anything with you again,” he replied, inching back slightly as he said the words. “Not unless you asked me to or acted first.”

“Oh. Well, then … let me help you.” Sliding her arm around his neck, she brought his lips to hers in one fluid movement. He let out a small moan of surprise but was quick to respond. Hands finding her waist, he pulled her onto his lap with her legs straddled on either side of his.

This, thought Buffy. She’d missed this – dreamt about it guiltily ever since the first time they’d kissed so many years ago. No one could kiss like Spike. He made you feel as though you were the only person in the world worth a second glance, and he focused every bit of himself into proving it to you. Their kisses were hungry but lacking the desperate, vicious edge of those they’d shared the previous year. Buffy decided she liked the change very much. It seemed purer in motivation and intention, as if mere physical pleasure was no longer the main focus. But as the kiss continued, all Buffy’s thoughts on the matter faded away into the colorless background – all she wanted to think about was him and the way his fingertips were tracing slow, deliberate circles down the small of her back. Something inside her ached for more. They lowered themselves as one body down onto the mattress, their lips never losing contact. She held perfectly still as his tongue slipped into her mouth, happily reacquainting herself with his deepest kisses.

Both pairs of hands began to roam. Hers found the curls at the back of his neck and tugged on them playfully before she slid her fingers down his bare back, kneading the firm muscles she discovered there. Spike began to pull at her clothing, not removing anything but obviously interested in doing so. She encouraged him by unbuttoning the top few buttons of her shirt, letting him deal with the rest as she yanked the towel away from his hips with boldness that surprised them both. With a quiet growl, he flipped her over so that she was lying under him. He tossed her shirt away and bent his head to suckle one breast through the thin material of her tank top. As she writhed beneath him, he grasped her under her arms and tugged her upwards so that she was lying fully on the bed, whereas before her legs had been dangling off of the edge.

They both gasped in pain when Spike tried to rest himself on top of her body. Neither of their wounds had yet to heal completely. Muttering a hasty apology between kisses, he eased her onto her side next to him, and placed one of his arms behind her neck to support her head while his other hand worked the zipper on her jeans. When he finally got them undone, his hand dipped inside to find her soft, springy curls damp with anticipation. She tensed in eagerness, but he drew his hand away. Licking slow kisses into her mouth, he pushed her jeans and panties down to her knees so he could get better access. Buffy continued to kick her clothes off as Spike’s fingers began to tease her lower stomach. He traced slow circles down her abdomen, driving her mad with expectation. After what seemed like forever, he lifted one finger up to her lips and let her suck on it for a moment or two before bringing it down between her thighs and slipping it inside her warm folds. A second finger soon followed and when she had relaxed enough, a third. She moaned loudly against the side of his neck when his thumb found her clit and began rubbing its slick surface in firm circles that made her hips lift off the bed. She squirmed helplessly, but was held so tightly by his arm that she could barely move from the waist up. The wound on her stomach hurt terribly, but the pain was secondary to the pleasure.

She bit his shoulder hard to keep from screaming when she came. He smiled down at her adoringly when he felt her body lock in pleasure, her face open and free of all the worries that had plagued her for so many months. Though she tried to pull away once the last waves faded, he continued rubbing her clit until he felt her reach a second, less intense climax a minute or two later. Multiple orgasms, she realized languidly. She’d read about those. Free at last from a store of built-up tension, her body went slack in his arms and melted happily against his.

“Needed that,” she murmured, rubbing her lips sleepily across his chest.

“I know you did.”

But once her pulse began to slow back down, Buffy felt a sudden rush of self-consciousness. His wet fingers were resting on her thigh, and she was hopelessly tangled up in the rest of him, various limbs intertwined. She felt his erection pressed up against her stomach and was suddenly very aware of both their nakedness.

“You all right?” he asked, tugging gently at the straps of her tank top, the last scrap of clothing on her body.

“Can we get under the covers?” asked Buffy timorously, trying without success to hide her discomfort. He released her then, but pulled her tank top over her head as soon as she sat up. As she tugged back the comforter, she felt his hands sliding gently over her bandaged stomach.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked as he slipped under the sheets.

“A little,” she admitted, hesitantly watching him pat the mattress next to him invitingly. “I … I don’t know if I can do this.”

Spike studied her frightened expression suspiciously for a moment before tugging the comforter over his nakedness and reaching his hand out to her. “Stop looking at me like that, and come here. Just want to hold you.” She let him gather her up to his chest, the bedding between their bodies. Immediately she felt better, finding the comfy spot under his collarbone where she had slept only last night. Her comfort zone reestablished, he tilted her chin up and kissed her lightly on the lips. “What got you so frightened all the sudden?”

“We’re not falling into last year’s patterns, are we?” she whispered. “Please tell me we aren’t. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

Spike’s face was void of emotion as he responded. “Does it feel like we are?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how to tell. What’s the difference?”

“How we’re looking at it, I guess. Are you still out to use me and then toss me out? Gonna walk out on me as soon as the sun pops up?” He glanced over her shoulder at the sunlit curtains. “Well, as soon as it metaphorically pops up, at any rate.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Well, there you go.”

Buffy blinked up at him. “What about you? I wasn’t the only one with the issues last year, you know. Is this still about obsession for you? Doing a Slayer?” she asked boldly. “Or is it about love?”

“You know my answer to that. You just like to hear me say it,” he replied teasingly as he smoothed her hair away from her face. “Love you more than anything. This isn’t about possessing you, though I admit it might have been once upon a time. Just want to be with you.”

She frowned skeptically. “Are you doing that guy-thing where you say what I want to hear just to get into my pants?”

“Technically, love, I think I’ve already gotten into your pants,” he replied, wriggling his eyebrows at her bare bottom. That got a smile out of her, as well as two furiously blushing cheeks. “But what about you?” he continued, kissing the top of her head softly. “Is this about love … or about control?”

She knew it was a loaded question the minute he said it. What he was really asking was, ‘Do you love me?’ Buffy stared up at him, knowing that souled Spike would never have asked her such a bold question – would never believe her even if she told him she loved him and meant it. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She meant her words as a teasing joke – a jab at how many times he’d insisted that she loved him in the past – but Spike seemed to really consider what she said. His eyes took in everything from the way she was looking at him to the way her hands were resting lightly on his chest. “Truth be told, I don’t think you do love me,” he replied at last. “But I think you could if you’d let yourself. The question is – will you?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. His lips caught hers in a kiss once again, as his hands began to explore her body. Her breasts rubbed up against the cold material of the comforter that lay between their bodies, and she shivered as he began trailing kisses down the side of her neck.

“Would you stop if I asked you to?” she asked, testing him.

His mouth stilled on her pulse immediately, and she got her answer even before he replied. Spike might not have a soul anymore, but he’d learned a few lessons. “Yes, I would,” he replied quietly. “Is that what you want?”

He started to pull away, but she stopped him. Her fingers tangled in his damp curls, holding his head against her neck for a few moments while she made up her mind. He nuzzled her lightly but didn’t press in any other way. At long last, Buffy pushed herself up and off the bed. Spike frowned in her direction, thinking she was off to find herself a nightgown or somewhere else to sleep. When she swept over to her bedroom door, he thought it was over for sure, and was shocked when she twisted the lock in place and turned back towards the bed. His eyes swept down her lean body. Not even the bandage around her stomach could take away from her beauty. He watched as she pulled her hair down from the ponytail and shook it out so that it lay in soft waves over her shoulders and breasts. Then without so much as a word, she gripped the edge of the comforter and ripped it off of the bed. The sheet soon met the floor as well, and Spike was left leaning back against the pillows, wearing nothing but a mischievous smile.

“And here I thought you wanted to be under the sheets,” he said.

Buffy crawled up the bed towards him, breasts swaying alluringly. “I lied.”

She gripped him by the hips and tugged him downwards so that he was almost lying flat on the mattress. Her hands explored his chest in broad circular strokes. “Careful,” he breathed as she lingered over the hot, smooth skin of his healing burn. Then he smirked and added, “Or not.”

Pressing her hands flat against the mattress, she dipped her head and began trailing wet kisses from his collarbone down to his navel. There she flicked her tongue lightly inside the shallow indention of his bellybutton; his stomach was taut and firm beneath her lips. She moved to his hips and pressed kisses into the shadowed hollows beside his hipbones. His hands tangled in her hair, encouraging her to go lower. She gladly obliged, following the sloping V of his abdomen downwards. Her lips found the silky, pink sac at the apex of his thighs first. He gasped helplessly as she lingered there before moving onto his cock, which was resting upwards against his stomach. His soft skin felt like velvet against her lips. Without the use of her hands, she licked him from balls to tip and back down again. The second time she reached the head of his erection, she opened her mouth and took him inside. Hollowing out her cheeks, she worked him in and out of her mouth, enjoying the power she held over him as she watched the muscles in his stomach and groin tense and release vulnerably. She wanted to bring him off completely, as he had done for her, but before she could get close, he suddenly pulled her away from his cock with some urgency and settled her back on the bed.

Before she knew what was happening, he had pushed her knees apart, and his fingers were inside her again. Only this time he lowered his head to her clit and began working his tongue over it, varying between a quick, teasing flicker to long, sensuous laps that made her writhe. At length, he released her, keeping his fingers inside her as he moved her onto her side so that the pressure on her wounded stomach could be kept to a minimum. Grabbing the crook of her knee with his other hand, he lifted it a little to part her thighs and carefully moved over her. Only a second or two passed from the time his fingers slid out of her to when she felt his cock rubbing against her entry. When he finally pushed inside her, she gasped at how substantial he felt from this angle. The base of her abdomen began to tingle pleasantly.

He reached around her from behind to cup one of her breasts in his hand as he began to move earnestly within her. He took a pace that was not fast or urgent, unlike so many of their previous lovemaking sessions. He moved within her slowly, varying between shallow and deep thrusts so that every inch of her passage was aching pleasurably. She pressed her face into the pillow to drown out the gasps and moans that were slipping from of her mouth without consent.

When he bit down on the crook of her neck with his human teeth, she could barely keep in a cry of pleasure as she melted into an intense orgasm. Spike was forced to stop moving as her inner muscles clamped down on him, so he kept one hand moving on her clit to ease her through the rest of her climax. Again, she seemed to dissolve into the mattress as the afterglow took hold of her. Spike slipped out of her so that he could guide her onto her back. He moved over her and entered her again. Buffy smiled in sleepy satisfaction as she wrapped her legs around him, content to rub his back and arms as he brought himself off. She pulled his lips down for a slow, drowsy kiss whenever she could. All too soon, she thought, Spike shuddered inside her and with a stifled cry, breathed her name as he came. His arms grew tired of holding himself up, and he collapsed on top of her with as much gentleness as he could muster at that moment.

“Love you,” he whispered into her hair as his eyelids began to droop.

Buffy licked the perspiration off of her lip and urged him off of her so that she could breathe without pain. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She extended one weary arm over the side of the bed to retrieve the discarded bedding before allowing him to gather her close. Pulling the blanket over them, he cradled her in the crook of his arm with her head resting on his chest. Spike fell asleep soon afterwards, breathing in his characteristic way. Buffy was left staring at the ceiling with a mixture of shock and contentment, wondering what the heck had just happened. She hadn’t exactly written “Sex with Spike – 5:00 pm” in her day-planner that morning. Even if she had, she still wouldn’t have been prepared for how good it felt – or how necessary. She could still feel her lower abdomen pulsating with satisfaction.

Still, she was in a great deal of pain and ached in places that she’d long forgotten she had. Having sex with Spike while injured was nothing new to her, but still not among her favorite pastimes. Next time – oh God, next time, she thought – would have to be under different circumstances. She was tired of being in pain. Their physical relationship would have to change if it was going to continue, and she suspected he would fully agree with her. She touched his burned chest gingerly, knowing he must be hurting as well. She tried to lift herself off of his chest, but he held her tight in his sleep, and she soon gave up. She sighed and tried to relax – but found no sleep the entire night, worrying about what in the world tomorrow was going to bring.

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To be continued.





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