The
Slayer and
Her Vampire
Chapter Eleven
She was so going to kick vampire
ass. All the way to the top of her
stairs. She hadn't been planning on offering her empty motherless home
to her friends for an impromptu get together. Even if it was to save
her friends from Angelus. She'd had her eyes on some Spike booty, and
damn if this meant she'd have to be all evasive and Alone Girl. It was
enough to make her pout. Well, she had the day, right? She could shoo
them all home and just tell them to be back before dark and she could
get her thing on with Spike for the time they were away.
Perfect. She loved a good plan.
"Okay then. Let's get rolling. Everyone go and pack what they'll need
tonight and meet back here before it gets dark. Any questions? Good.
We'll see you then."
"Ooh, sleepover," squealed Willow as she was herded out the door,
unaware that Giles and Xander were shooting glares of venom at Spike as
he continued to lounge in the chair, completely relaxed with hands
crossed behind his head.
Buffy nearly pushed them the final step through the door, almost
slamming it in her haste to be alone with Spike. She collapsed against
the hard wood, almost panting her relief that they were gone with less
fight than she'd expected. When she lifted her eyes, Spike was
stretching suggestively, one hand wandering over his thinly covered abs
as the other stayed behind his neck.
"Luv, think I need a bit of a wash. Can you help me up the stairs?"
Wet Spike.
Buffy made a conscious effort to not run to his side, quickly helping
him to his unsteady feet and almost giggled when he took a tentative
first step.
"Don't overdo it," she warned and Spike felt himself warm inside.
"Feels a lot stronger. Think another sip of your sweet blood and I
might feel a lot more like my nimble self." He grinned cheekily at his
woman, feeling his crotch ache as he thought about her naked and
slippery.
"Spike! Stop it." Her voice seemed all croaky and heated as her eyes
swept over his zipper. She settled the hand hanging over her shoulder
much closer to her breast than it had been before, and felt the air
rush from her lungs. He gave her a little squeeze, but when Buffy
turned to reprimand him, his eyes were focused hard on the stairs. His
mouth was hardened in determination to put one foot in front of the
other to get to the first step.
Buffy grinned secretly and jiggled a little so more of her aching
breast could press into his lax palm. And then she steadily aimed them
for the stairs.
The ascent took ten minutes, and by the time Spike's foot took purchase
against the landing, they both could feel the thrumming power that was
slowly building in his lower limbs.
Still, they opted to fill the bath rather than leave him standing under
the water spray. Buffy watched the rush of water from the faucet and
felt a flicker of desire while imagining the disrobing of her vampire
and his slow immersion into the depths of her bath.
When the water reached a reasonable level, Buffy flicked off the taps
and turned to find Spike, naked, hard and proud staring at her with
nothing less than heated lust.
"Way I see it, pet, you have two options." He tilted his head and took
courage from the blush that stained her cheeks and the heartbeat that
raced as her eyes fell and stayed on his protruding cock. He felt it
necessary to of course curl his palm around his shape, feeling a surge
of pride at her gasp and slow movement closer to him. "One, you could
go and let me have a wash in private, not knowing what vile, evil
things I could get into. Or, you could help me reach the 'out of the
way' places and keep an eye on all my bits so I don't get out of
control." He looked at her with a mixture of hopeful longing and
intense desire. Far too many hours had gone by since he'd been inside
her, been able to taste her.
"I can't possibly—" She trailed off uncertainly as Spike's bare
shoulders dropped and his gaze hit the floor. "Stay clothed when my man
is all with the naked."
Before her last word settled in the air, she was clutched firmly in
Spike's embrace, his lips brushing softly over his marks even as his
hands delved under layers of cloth and found smooth skin.
"We have three hours before they come back. Think we can make it?"
Buffy whispered against the silky lobe of his ear, her teeth gently
nibbling as her own hands found bareness.
"It's bloody miserable, is what it is. We'll just have to make do."
His nose nudged her chin and Buffy shivered, her need increasing every
second that the steam rose from the tub and enclosed them within a warm
heady mist. And then she felt his hands on her flesh, stripping all her
clothing away until she could feel the hardness of him against her as
his lips claimed hers in wild need. He lifted a knee and Buffy felt the
inside of her thigh brush against the hairy surface of Spike; felt the
hard thickness of him as he settled just a whisper away from her aching
pussy lips.
While he sucked away her breath, Buffy began a slow sway back and
forth, wanting to cry every time he brushed against her. He propelled
her hips closer and groaned as malleable flesh spread around the length
of his cock, hot liquid spilling around him as he thrust back and forth.
Spike dived on her throat, fangs bursting from his gums as he sunk them
into the flesh of her neck, his cock redirecting and finding her dark,
wet channel. He settled as he sucked in mouthfuls of her blood, the
power flooding through him as Buffy moaned and writhed around on his
cock like a desperate fish for water. He withdrew his fangs, sealed the
mark, and with one hard thrust knocked them so off balance Buffy
tumbled backwards and they ended head over arse in the tub full of
water.
Spike let loose a roar of laughter, watching Buffy splutter and
frantically try to get the stringy clumps of her honeyed hair out of
her eyes before she pounced, pushing Spike back as she remounted his
cock and started a rhythm that rocked their watery world.
"You think drowning me is funny, huh?" And with some kind of wily
slide, Spike found his back on the base of the tub, his mouth filling
with water as he struggled to stop laughing, and Buffy bouncing on his
prick like the woman meant business.
Spike sat up choking and spitting water in amidst a grip of humour that
had been absent from his existence for years. She was a right
firecracker, this one, and he was going to enjoy exploding along with
her on a regular basis. He pulled her closer, lifting her slightly so
his mouth could catch a swollen nipple and suck it hard into his mouth.
And then he tipped her backwards, relishing the swish of water as it
smacked the inside of the other end of the tub.
Buffy's neck was arched, her hair being lulled under water as she felt
the slow caress of her receptive walls with Spike's cock. She could
feel him so deep, barely touching that spot inside that sent her high
off an invisible top. Eager nipples sought his touch, and then the
squeeze that made Buffy hold her breath, made her pant as she began to
pulse and shudder around him. This peak wasn't hard, wasn't fast, but
slipped sweetly over her like a favoured dessert.
When she came back down, it was with a smile that told of her affection
and satisfaction with her current choices. Buffy curled her arms around
Spike's neck and hugged him tight; hugged him happy. So he got her
underlying message, she pressed the softest kiss against his lips,
hoping to convey all that she was feeling.
"You know, you kinda make everything about this sex thing hot."
A scarred brow lifted in amazement. "It's meant to be pleasurable, pet.
Wasn't your big go with the Poof all you'd imagined?"
Spike couldn't work out if her embarrassment made him confident or
insecure. He waited almost in pain for what kind of stamp she'd put on
that experience of her life.
"It wasn't exactly Harlequin," she revealed with a blush and then was
kissing him again with that innocence and wholesomeness that meshed
beautifully with her lusty siren-like persona.
Yeah, he was completely caught. And he only had two and three quarter
hours to make his own brand as deep as it could be before her friends
came back armed with arguments about why being with him was wrong.
He just hoped she saw their claim to each other as much more than an
argument—and much more of a destiny.