season three: bad girls
Faith: (breathing heavily) Tell me you don't get off on this!
Buffy: (smiles at the amulet) It didn't suck.
Buffy was feeling pretty damn good. What was the word Faith had used? Juiced. Yeah, that's how she was feeling: juiced. Not just juiced in a "Come get me so I can kick you in the face" juiced but also a "Come get me so I can come all over your face" juiced. She'd been lying before about not getting turned on during fighting because she'd always been a little embarrassed by it—what did that say about her if violence turned her on? And it's not like she and Faith were so similar, even if she was finding more and more in common with her these days. Either way, the fact that she was so wet that her thighs slid against each other after that intense fight was her business only.
Okay, she admitted it; Faith had awakened a flurry of emotions in her that she'd suppressed for a long long time. Wait, that sounded wrong. Simply put, Faith showed her it wasn't such a bad, evil thing to want things, to feel good about the violence, to let the adrenaline push her forward and not make her feel guilty. Want. Take. Have. It felt pretty damn good.
So, in her current state of emotions, her insides did a triple cartwheel back flip when, on the way home from the fight with the stupidly dressed vamps of Balthahooey, she ran right into Spike, casually leaning against a tomb smoking a cigarette. Something about that cocky stance and tousled blond locks made her body thrum with anticipation. She spun her stake around her fingers and sashayed towards him.
"What, Dru dumped you again?" Her voice held a challenge, and her confidence wrapped itself comfortably around her body.
He took a long drag from his cigarette. "Why, you interested?" He smirked at her, licking his lips as his eyes roved over her body.
She threw back her hair and gave him her patented stupid look. "Can we say cocky? Dru must've really been crazy to—"
"Let me go?" He blew out a stream of smoke, smoothly interrupting her thoughts.
Buffy rolled her eyes and then said, "Ugh. No, not really. I'd rather—"
"Ride me hard till you're sore and never let me go?" He grinned as she moved forward to punch him. He knew she was raring to go, to get a bit of rough and tumble in—in both the violence and the sex—and he was more than willing to accommodate. "I'm up for it whenever you are." He threw away his cigarette and began circling her.
"I bet you are," Buffy retorted, mimicking his circular movements. She gave up trying to make her original point and succumbed to the lovely task of staring at his body and face. Their gazes sharpened, each watching the silky movements of the other.
"Your timing is good. I just kicked some easy vampire ass, and I'm ready for a little bit of a challenge."
"Sounds sort of like my night." He licked his lips and slid his hand down his chest. "And you certainly are a challenge."
"Well, then, let the fighting commence." She cracked her knuckles for show, grinned in her best menacing fashion, and pounced.
She started with a high kick aimed for the head, which he easily dodged and turned against her, catching her calf and pushing so that she flew backwards.
"You making a joke with that dainty kick? Come on Slayer, give it me good." He returned with his own kick, raising his steel-toed boot to make contact with her head.
Rolling to her feet, she ducked his kick and then lashed out to kick out his other leg. "You shouldn't talk so much, Spike. Clearly you can't do more than one thing at a time."
He fell to the ground but quickly evaded her stomp. Both jumped up quickly, smug grins on their faces.
The fight continued like this, each on the offensive but not really getting in any good hits. And it was clear that they were both enjoying themselves immensely. Spike's laughter when she would only hit air, Buffy's taunting when she landed a punch, Spike's wicked grin when he felt Buffy's body react to his vicious hits. The moon shone down brightly on the two fighters, and slowly they began to wear each other down.
With a nasty kick to the chest and a quick flick of her ankle, Buffy slashed through Spike's t-shirt with her sharp heell.
Spike chuckled and then tore off his shirt. "You know, if you wanted a look, all you had to do was ask."
Buffy's body flushed a little with the sight before her. "Yeah, baby," she thought to herself, as if channeling Faith's voice.
Noting her momentary distraction, he flexed his body quickly before flipping her to the ground, easily taking her shirt with the move.
"Yeah, baby. Slayer sexiness is definitely part of your package." He smiled lasciviously at her bra-clad torso before moving in for closer punches.
Blocking and dodging as best she could, she tried not to notice the hardened muscles that were tensing under her blows. "Yeah, and what's supposed to be part of your package?" She added a sultry note to her tone; she could flirt with the best of them, and he was certainly up there.
The tension of their sexual attraction and violence was making the air crackle around them. As if feeling drawn by their intensity, the moon shivered and then began to pour down on them.
Thunder groaned, lightning flamed, and the rain doused both of them. Neither of them reacted to the change in weather, but their bodies seemed to emit steam from the heat aroused by their interaction.
But the weather refused to be ignored, and eventually, in dodging one of Buffy's punches, Spike slipped in the quickly muddying earth. Buffy was on top of him in a hot second.
"Gonna have your good day today, ey?" he sneered, only slightly conceding to her advantage.
"Fuck yeah," Buffy breathed over his face. "Want. Take. Have." Tightening her hold on his wrists, she dove into his mouth for a demanding kiss, her body greedy for more.
Spike groaned with desire. His whole body had been aching for more, the violence more like foreplay than anything else, and he had been plotting ways to take it down that naughty path. The loss of their shirts was a start, and the weather was pouring down around them, making everything slick and wet, just the way he felt. But nothing could compare to the bursting sensations when she'd grabbed him and pressed her hot mouth down onto his. Even if she were still planning to kill him, he'd willingly oblige in some snogging beforehand.
Grinding his cock against her heat, he thrust his tongue into her mouth, their mouths angrily lashing out the same way their fists had been a moment ago.
Buffy moaned, completely losing herself in the heated thrills running up and down her body.
Spike took that as his cue to flip them, using the momentum to move his body down and kiss her neck, he chest, her breasts, her stomach. The rain mingled with sweat made it easy for their bodies to slide against each other. Baring his fangs, he sliced through her bra and suckled her nipple until she groaned with animalistic pleasure. He continued down her body, pulling at her clothes until her gorgeously naked body arched in the rain. His mouth found her pleasure spot, and his tongue lashed out wickedly, sliding and rubbing and coaxing and twirling until she could no longer think straight. Her body tightened and shuddered and screamed. With her thighs clasped around his head, she threw him over and then pounced on his pants, freeing his body so that she could taste him fully.
Her hot mouth closed around him, and Spike howled in delight. Her pussy hung above him temptingly, and he reached out to push her wetness into his face. Twin muffled moans echoed through the air as they tasted and licked and nibbled their way into each other. Buffy felt his cock tighten, his body bend forward, and she braced herself for his orgasm, eager to feel the product of her work. The thought of his body reacting to her mouth made her even wetter, and with Spike's insistent tongue against her pussy, she shot up to join Spike in ecstasy.
Their bodies stopped only for an instant before Spike wiped the rain and cum away from his face before slithering up her body, not caring that they were completely wet, drenched in the downpour, and naked in a graveyard. They weren't done yet, and their passion wasn't anywhere near sated.
Buffy gripped his face in her hands to push him down for another kiss, and their tongues tangled the moment their bodies joined.
"Fuck, yeah," Buffy moaned into his mouth as she threw her legs around his waist, urging him on.
"Fucking sweet Slayer," Spike whispered through clenched teeth as he drove into her. His arms squeezed around her, holding on with everything he had, his body thrusting forcefully towards pleasure.
Buffy's head rolled back in bliss; her hands wandered down to grip his firm ass, and her thoughts were a blurry mass of colors and sensations. God, he was so good, so intense, so exactly what she needed right now. But there was something missing, something that would just push her into the highest flights of pleasure, something...
"Do it," she whispered into his neck. "Do it," she urged, tightening her grip on him. She felt him shift into game face, and her pussy flooded again with juices. She rubbed her clit against him and felt her breathing hitch. "Fuck, do it—" Her words were interrupted by a long string of unintelligible groans and moans of pleasure.
His fangs sliced into her, and they both came hard, bodies bucking into each other and hands scratching skin and blood pumping. They howled into the night, only overthrown by the rumbling thunder crashing over their voices.
--
"Is it still raining?" Buffy thought to herself as she felt the water beat against her body. "Hot rain?" She heard a chuckle, and her mind finally broke from the fog. She was in her shower, Spike's hands gently massaging her head. "Wha?"
"Glad to see you've returned from your trip to orgasmic heaven." He grinned at her as she turned to face him. "I knew I didn't take that much blood, so it had to be just a little death."
She started to say some nasty retort about his skills, but she was cut off by a gentle kiss, as if he had possibly been scared for her life. But that was impossible. Spike was just...
Her thoughts once again became incoherent as she lost herself in the dancing of his tongue against hers. The hot water warmed her skin, and Spike's hands melted away the mud and sweat that had caked onto her. The kissing, the massaging, the heat—all swirling together, they created a warm paradise for Buffy to bask in. There was something about kissing in the shower, the water mingling with their wetness, their hands sliding over skin—it was so sensual and satisfying.
Shampoo, conditioner, soap...they all slowly went down the drain, and the couple continued their slow, sexy kisses under the shower. Finally, Buffy kissed his neck and pressed her body against his, needing a quick break from the simmering fervor of their kisses.
"Come, love. Let's get you into bed." He kissed her gently and then turned off the water. Gathering her body into a towel, he dried her off, quickly dried himself off, and then lifted her into his arms.
Buffy was still hazy from the kisses, too hazy to comprehend this shift in Spike, this gentleness. It didn't matter, though, because the feeling was just too good to analyze right now. In between the softness of the sheets, Buffy reached out for his hard body and found it quickly. Whereas before their kisses were violent and ferocious like a consuming blaze, these kisses were urgent and intense like a creeping fire—both were incredibly erotic.
She crawled on top of him and lowered her body onto his. Languorously undulating above him, she felt his hands fondle her hips and ass, his thumbs brush against her nipples. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him fully, thoroughly. Their mating was deliberate and unhurried, their moans hushed and lingering, their caresses long and stimulating.
It was a slow but steady creep up the slope to orgasmic bliss, but fuck if it wasn't worth every sigh and pant and whimper. When she felt herself ready for climax, she bent her head down to kiss him, and they swallowed each other's gasps of pleasure.
--
When Buffy woke up the next morning, sore and sated, she turned to see a note on her pillow.
"Bloody fantastic. Can't wait till the next fight. Yours, Spike."
She licked her lips in remembering last night. Faith was right; she'd definitely gotten off on slaying last night. Maybe being a slayer didn't suck so much after all, not when there was Spike around to suck. She stretched her body lazily and smiled in anticipation.
THE END
