Title: Blue Eyed Devil Author: Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com Disclaimer: None of the BtVS characters belong to me Feedback: Yes, please. Rating: Up to NC-17 Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local preschool teacher he's pursuing. Part nineteen.... "Buffy...oh, Christ, baby...you're so tight...so hot...sweet...yes...there...there..." Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen, with tiny dust motes dancing in it. Spike's hands held her securely around her waist, keeping her from sliding backwards on the Formica counter as he pounded into her. She held on by wrapping her fingers around the hard muscle of his biceps. Almost delirious with pleasure, Buffy had to release her hold on him and place her hands on the counter, slightly behind her. With her legs encircling his waist, she could lift herself to meet every deep thrust. When her head tipped back and exposed her creamy throat, he lunged forward and licked it from the hollow at it's base, all the way up to the point of her chin. Seeking the moist sweetness of her lips, he kissed her hard, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Wanting to get closer...needing to go deeper, he curved his right arm around her waist and pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. Then, urging her to lie down all the way, he slipped his hands beneath her thighs, lifting her bottom until it lost contact with any hope of support except him. His eyes were shut tight with concentration as he pumped harder and faster. Sex had never been this good before. With Buffy, he felt like he was sliding into warm cream, and lying against soft pillows. Her body was so responsive to his lightest touch that it excited him past the point of coherent thought. Whenever he put his hands on her, the rest of the world fell away into a void he had no interest in searching for. Everything he wanted was right here...here in this sun-warmed little kitchen. He drove himself into her, harder and deeper, listening to the soft moans and half whispered words coming from her throat. He opened his eyes and found her staring up at him in amazed wonder. It was a breathtaking sight. Her skin was damp and flushed a light shade of pink, and her green eyes were glassy. The heavy wealth of her honey brown hair was spread beneath her like a halo. She was absolutely the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "I'm...I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked. Buffy shook her head, no. It wasn't enough. "Tell me," he insisted. "Tell me how it feels for you." She didn't really know what to say, being unskilled in the art of "pillow talk", and too shy to use the descriptive words he'd been saying to her. He tried to help her. "Does it feel good, babe? Do you like what I'm doing to you?" Now, there was a question she could answer! "Yes," she nodded. "I love...it. I do....." Sliding his hands beneath her back, he lifted her up. "Hang on, love," he directed, moving backwards and sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs. Amazed that he'd been able to perform this maneuver without breaking their connection, Buffy quickly discovered that this new position had definite advantages. With her sitting on his lap and facing him, she could balance her feet on the rungs of the chair and lift herself up and down. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he buried his face against her soft throat, kissing and licking it as she bounced on his lap. His mouth found hers, and they kissed with passionate intensity. His tongue delved deeply into her mouth, tasting the softness of her inner cheeks and dancing on the edges of her small, white teeth. Bodies pressed close, they rocked together, groaning and panting with every deep, gliding thrust. Buffy was close...so close to the spectacular finish he'd been priming her for. Her fingertips moved over the smooth flesh of his shoulders and up his neck, finally meeting around his face. He kissed and nipped at the soft pads, sucking each finger and swirling his tongue around it. His hands suddenly moved down, briefly squeezing her breasts before they found her waist. Lifting her just a little, he began to slam his hips up harder and faster. Her breathing became ragged and sharp, and she clutched at his shoulders again, hanging on. Their eyes met, and stayed locked on each other. Buffy came first, her hips grinding down hard on him as her sex milked him in violent spasms, demanding every drop he had to give her. She cried out his name, and fisted her hands in his hair almost to the point of pain. Devlin's control snapped. Taking a tighter hold on her, he began pumping even harder, gliding wetly in and out of her. Shouting hoarsely, he came, spurting what felt like a gallon of semen up inside of her. When it was over, their breathing began to slow and the sweat began to dry upon them. Nuzzling the side of her face, he laughed a little. "Didn't we come down here for breakfast?" Buffy smiled. "What was that we just had?" "Call it an appetizer," he replied, kissing her cheek with a loud smack. "I'm starved. Want to go out to eat?" She sat back and shook her head. "No. I want to dazzle you with my skill in the kitchen." Grinning at her lecherously, he said, "Consider me dazzled, gorgeous. Or...was that not the skill you were referring to?" "Very funny," she said. Giving him a slight shove, she looked around the floor. "Where did you throw my bathrobe?" "Who knows?" he muttered, rubbing his chest against her bare breasts. "Who cares? Hey...come back here." "Oh, no you don't." She dodged away from his reach- ing hand and scrambled off his lap. Their bodies separated with a moist, sucking sound, and they both made a face. "Sorry about that," he said, sounding not the least bit sorry at all. "Bit messy, huh?" Buffy snagged her robe and shoved her arms into it, feeling suddenly embarrassed about being naked in the kitchen. She excused herself to the bathroom, promising to fix him breakfast when she returned. Halfway up the stairs, she heard him. "Drop dead gorgeous, sweet and funny, loves kids, and she cooks, too!" he yelled. "Now I KNOW I'm falling, Miss Buffy!" She almost walked into the bathroom without replying, then gathered up all her courage and leaned over the landing. "Me, too!" she yelled back, diving into the bathroom and locking the door when she heard him mutter some- thing under his breath and come running up the stairs. **************************************************** She took great pains with her breakfast preparations, grateful that she actually had the food she wanted on hand. After starting the coffee maker, she pulled a large cast iron skillet out of a lower cupboard. Dropping in a spoonful of cooking oil, she sliced potatos and onions into the pan, frying them until the potatos were a golden brown, and the onions translucent.. When they were finished, she put the skillet in the oven to keep warm, and cracked a half a dozen eggs into her large blue mixing bowl. Adding a little milk, she whisked the egg mixture around until it was frothy, then melted butter in another skillet and poured the eggs in. Devlin sat and watched every move she made, asking questions and pestering her until she put him in charge of making toast to give him something to do with his wandering hands. She set the table with her grandmother's china and crystal, placing a chilled carafe of orange juice in the middle. When the eggs began to set, she scrambled them to a fluffy turn and spooned them onto a serving plate. Spike buttered toast, and searched through the fridge for jam. He found three different kinds, and placed all of them on the table. Buffy removed the skillet from the oven and placed it on a trivet next to the juice container. Placing her crystal salt and pepper shakers within easy reach, she poured two mugs of coffee and grabbed her sugar bowl. Before he sat down, Spike looked out the window and immediately headed for the door. Barefoot, wearing only his jeans, he snapped off a yellow rose from a bush in her next door neighbor's yard, then ran back in the house and presented it to her. Well, she had to kiss him for it, and she did...quite thoroughly. Placing the rose in a glass of water, she announced that breakfast was served. Spike pulled out a chair with a continental flourish. Taking her hand, he seated her gracefully, then kissed her fingers before he sat down next to her. They talked of inconsequential things while they ate. He told her about where he'd grown up...some- where in the southern part of England, and she in turn revealed a few things about her own childhood. He ate every scrap of food on his plate, praising it lavishly, and telling her that, while her skills in the kitchen were definitely not limited to the culinary, he certainly appreciated them at the moment. Snitching the last piece of toast off her plate, he slathered it with a thick layer of boysenberry jam. Buffy poured more coffee into his mug, smiling when he dumped three large spoons of sugar into it. She sipped her own lightly sweetened coffee, and considered the fact that for someone with his sugar laden eating habits, there wasn't an ounce of superfluous flesh anywhere on him. He was trim and lean, and very well built, and she had to force herself not to stare rudely at his bare chest. It was really...really...difficult to do. *************************************************** When the mantle clock in her living room chimed three, they were stretched out on her sofa kissing...making out was what she would have called it in high school...and they were both having a difficult time controlling themselves. "Damn it," he swore softly, looking at the little clock as though he hated it. "I have to go. We're having a rehearsal today...some new material we're trying out on the tour." Although he ordered himself to stand up and move away from her, the sight of her kiss-reddened lips drew him back for more. A few moments later, Buffy pulled away. "I thought you had to go," she reminded him, holding him off with one hand on his chest. "I do," he said, pushing her hand away and capturing lips again. "I'm going now," he added, trailing wet kisses up the side of her cheek. Her eyes drifting shut with pleasure, she arched her throat, murmuring softly when he began nuzzling and kissing it. "Temptress," he whispered in her ear, sucking gently on her lobe. Shaking her head a little to clear it, she nudged him away. "Be good." "I don't want to be good," he protested, wriggling his hips against hers. "I want to be bad," he added, smiling that killer smile of his. "I want to be bad with you...I want to be bad all over you." Slipping one hand up, he cupped her breast. "Don't you want to be bad with me, baby?" She did. She really did. But.... Grabbing his hand, she pushed it away hard enough to shove him right off the couch. "Hey!" he yelped, landing on his arse. Before he could climb back up, she lurched to her feet. "You need to go," she told him, backing away. Devlin rose to his knees and followed her. "Come here," he demanded, reaching for her. She skipped back just in time. "No. Now, you get the rest of your clothes on, and I'll...don't...no, Spike, you can't...we can't..." He'd jumped to his feet and was stalking her around the sofa. "Miss Buffy," he sing-songed. "You know I'll catch you, darling. Give in gracefully." Buffy tightened the sash of her robe. "You have a rehearsal," she pointed out, using her best "teacher" voice. "Now, you go and get ready for it." He stopped, surprising her a little. "Come with me." "Who, me?" "Yeah, come on. It'll be fun," he coaxed her, giving her that boyish grin she adored. She hesitated. "The others won't mind?" "Nah. I told you, love...it's my band. Come on." She was wavering. "Well...." Devlin sweetened the deal. "I'll sing you a song," he promised, tempting her shamelessly with his blue topaz eyes and charming smile. "A love song." That clinched it. She was in! TBC.....