Summary: Takes place in Season 2. Spike finds Buffy. Spike chains Buffy up. Spike and Buffy get trapped inside his bedroom together. What happens? Smutty goodness, of course!
Author's Notes: My friend wanted to see me write a smut fic, and I always wanted to write the characters in a S2 setting. So this is what happened. It was supposed to be a simple PWP, but I think that term is lost upon me. Granted, there isn't much of a plot, but it's still pretty long. Just so you know.
Rating: NC-17
"Good work, boy," Angelus leered, studying the limp girl in Spike's arms.
"Oooh, did my Spike bring me a present?"
Drusilla entered, smelling the intoxicating scent of human blood. Of Slayer blood. "My sweet... you've brought me the Slayer," she cooed, holding out her hand to him.
"Hardly, love. This one's all mine."
"I don't think so, Spike," Angelus said, stepping in front of the bleached blonde and blocking his path. "She's all of ours."
"You mean yours?" Spike growled, pushing him. "Not quite, peaches. I'm the one who knocked the bint unconscious, I'm the one who gets to play."
"Don't I get to play with her? She's so ripe and filled with stars..."
"Oh, don't worry, pet. You'll get your turn."
And with that, he hurried up the staircase, as the two vampires glared at him in envy.
~~~
When Buffy finally came to, she immediately felt the cold shackles clasped tightly around her tiny wrists. She blinked a few times, before making out the chiseled features of a grinning vampire.
"Hello, love. Baby likes to sleep."
"Spike," she spat, tugging fiercely at her restraints. She tried to remember what happened, but it was all a blur. One minute she was patrolling, and the next she felt the prickling sensation of a familiar vampire. But before she could get a punch in, a caddleprod sent painful shocks through her body and then everything went black.
Now here she was. Chained helplessly to Spike's bedroom wall.
"Slayer," he acknowledged, kneeling before her, the grin still firmly in place. The fact that he had captured her made him dizzy with excitement. He couldn't wait to get to the killing part. "Glad you could make it."
She pulled harder at the chains, but they refused to budge.
"You really shouldn't bother, pet. Better to save your strength for struggling later, when I'm sucking you dry. It's no fun if you don't struggle..."
"Fuck you," she cursed at him, fire spitting from her emerald eyes.
"Rough talk. What would your mother say if she heard that? Oh, wait. It doesn't matter, because you're never going to see her again," he sneered.
Buffy's foot shot up at that, connecting right between his legs. Spike doubled over in pain, as Buffy sat there, expressionless. When he finally regained control of himself, he lunged at her, face inches away from her own. She sucked in a breath.
"It's best not to do that, love. You never know when you'll want those in mint condition for later use."
"Don't flatter yourself. I'd rather die before I touch anything on you."
"Well, now. That can be arranged."
He then leaned in the rest of the way and placed a harsh, emotionless kiss on her lips. Buffy immediately wiped her mouth against her shoulder in disgust, as he stood up again and left the room, his leather duster swaying confidently behind him.
Almost an hour had gone by before he returned. Buffy had been working non-stop at her restraints, trying desperately to get loose. It was no use though. They refused to comply.
Spike sauntered in, carrying a plate of fresh fruits and meats.
"Eat up, Slayer. Want you in tip top shape for when I feast," he told her.
When he approached, Buffy kicked the tray out of his hands, sending it crashing against the opposite wall.
"I'll starve."
"Now, now. No need to get frisky. Only offering a bit of edibles is all."
She just stared at him, stone-faced. The truth was, she was hungry out of her mind. But she'd rather starve than take anything Spike had to offer.
"So, Slayer," Spike regarded, now sitting on the edge of his bed. "Want some telly? A book? Some good old fashioned me killing you?"
"How about some good old fashioned you letting me free so I can kick you pathetic ass?"
"Funny girl. How 'bout no."
Buffy's bottom lip began to tremble, despite herself. She feared she would never live to see her friends and mother again. She bit down hard on it, not wanting him to see her frightened.
"You'll never get away with this, Spike."
"No, probably not. But I will."
Angelus was suddenly in the doorway, leaning casually against its frame. Buffy's eyes widened a bit, practically forgetting about him. She should have known he'd be behind this as well.
"Get out of here, you ponce. I said she was mine."
"I don't see any bit marks," he retorted.
"I was sorta gettin' to that part, until your good-for-nothing arse rudely interrupted."
"Golly, Spike. I sure do apologize. That's just so unlike me," he grinned, returning his gaze to Buffy.
She shot daggers at him, tugging at her chains again.
"Spike, why don't you step out for a minute?" Angelus ordered, his eyes never leaving the shackled Slayer.
"Not a chance in hell."
Angelus suddenly crossed the room at unusual vampiric speed. He gripped Spike around the neck and starting moving him towards the doorway. Spike raised his fist and right hooked him in the jaw, sending the elder vampire to the ground. As he was about to step around him, Angelus grabbed him again and threw him out the door with incredible force. Spike hit the wall outside the room and had to will himself not to lose consciousness. But as he tried to stand up again, the door slammed in his face, making him reel backwards for a second time. Not even a minute went by before he heard the painful whimpers coming through the oak door.
The sod was probably torturing the chit. It's not like she didn't deserve it or anything, but that just wasn't his expertise. He got off on the quick kill. Not long painful hours of chainsaws and pointy objects. His sire enjoyed that, as did Dru. But it just did nothing for him.
"Is Daddy playing with our new toy?" Dru asked, emerging from the shadows.
"Yeah, pet, he is."
"Don't be upset, my love. He'll be finished shortly. That little Slayer is quite small... like a newly hatched blue bird. Will you give me a blue bird, Spike?"
"Angelus? Quick? Hardly. You know how he is. And no more birds. You always kill them."
She began to whimper and tug frantically at the hem of her dress.
"Fine! I'll get you a bleeding bird, alright?"
"Yes, yes. I would like that very much."
Drusilla relished in the tormented sobs that pierced her ears. Her Angel must be having such fun with that little Slayer. She sure was a pretty one. But her Angel loved her now, not the Slayer. He promised her the moon and the stars and the blackness of the night. Unfortunately, Spike wasn't a part of their plan, but that was alright. She loved her Angel now.
The door whipped open suddenly, and Angelus emerged, blood on his hands and shirt.
"She's all yours," he grinned, wrapping his arm around his black beauty.
Spike frowned and stepped back into his room. The door slammed behind him. When he glanced at Buffy, she was slumped forward, covered in her own blood. And she was unconscious.
"Damn it to hell," he cursed, not particularly enjoying the thought of cleaning up this new mess.
As he tried to open the door to get some clean towels, he found that it wouldn't budge. They had locked him in.
"Angelus! Get your sodding arse back here and open the bloody door!"
There was giggling on the opposite side. Drusilla.
"Dru. Pet. Please open the door. I promise to get you as many blue birds as you like."
"Shhh... you mustn't make promises you can't keep. How will you get me blue birds all locked up?"
"Well, that's where the opening door part comes in," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.
"No, Spike. I will not. Angelus wants you to stay here and suffer with that awful Slayer."
"Damnit, Dru!" he shouted, pounding his fists against the solid wood.
She giggled again and then walked away, leaving him trapped and alone with an unconscious Slayer. Which could have its ups as long as she stayed chained to the wall.
He decided to give up pounding for the time being, and began searching his room for some towels. His connecting bathroom had a couple, so he dampened them with water and approached the bleeding girl. She still had yet to wake up, and Spike wondered if the bastard had put her into a sodding coma. At least she was alive though. He could hear the blood pumping through her veins.
Kneeling beside her, he lifted her chin with two fingers and turned her head in his hand. To his surprise, there were no bite marks. Only deep cuts and scratches. He dabbed her face lightly with the white towel, unnerved by how gentle he was being. Hell, he shouldn't even care if she bled to death right there. But he did... he wanted to be the cause of her death. He wanted her to writhe helplessly in his cold embrace, as he drank from her throbbing jugular.
Spike moved his ministrations south, wrapping some gauze around a particularly gruesome gash on her shoulder. As he continued to lower the towel, the swells of her small, yet supple breasts came into view, blood pooling from them. Spike swallowed hard, tempted to dip down and suck greedily at them, drinking up all the sweet fluid she had to offer.
Well, why the hell shouldn't he? Male vampire here.
So he did. He lowered his head slowly, the scent of her blood overwhelming his senses. When he reached his destination, his tongue emerged between parted lips and lapped lightly at the blood on her breasts. God, she tasted good. He sucked harder, pulling the tender flesh between his blunt teeth. But he froze when he heard a tiny mewl rise in her throat, fearing she had woken. He looked up and saw that her eyes were still closed, but her hands had risen unconsciously and began sifting through his hair. This was all it took for Spike to continue, as he lowered his head once again. She wriggled beneath his tongue, and Spike lowered her bra, suckling a rosy nipple into his cool mouth. She moaned loudly, the tugging on his blonde locks becoming more intense. Spike didn't know what he was getting himself into. What started off as a simple taste of her blood, was turning into him trying to please her. His right hand rose against his will and began kneading her other soft breast, while he continued to suck and lap at the other. Buffy's moans and whimpers got louder and she started to rise beneath him, seeking friction between her legs. Spike gulped when he realized what was most likely going to happen if he didn't stop.
Sucking in an unneeded, shaky breath, he raised his head from her glistening chest and shifted her bra and blouse back in place. Buffy groaned in disappointment, rubbing her thighs together to reach some sort of release. But she soon she gave up, and her head lolled forward once again, assuring Spike that she had no clue what was going on or who was pleasuring her.
"Bloody hell," he cursed inwardly, wiping his blood-filled mouth with his coat sleeve. What the hell had gotten into him? Slayer blood making him horny. Nothing new there... but he never actually acted upon any feelings that may have conjured.
Spike sighed and glanced down, rolling his eyes at the large bulge in his jeans. Contemplating what he should do next, he finally shrugged and headed off into the bathroom.
~~~
Three hours had passed before the Slayer awoke. Spike was lying in bed, watching the telly, as the sun went down. He had tried to break down the door all day, but his efforts were fruitless. And he knew it wasn't just a simple lock keeping him in. There was some sort of magical barrier around the door. He could sense it.
When Buffy's eyes finally opened, she immediately began tugging at her chains again. Her wrists were sore and bruised, and she ached all over. It took a moment for her to remember that Angelus had decided to pass the time by torturing her. She would never look at sewing needles in the same way again.
"You're awake," Spike sensed, moving himself into a sitting position.
"Glad you noticed. Now unchain me."
"Not a chance."
"Fine. I'll find a way to do it myself."
"Good luck."
She sighed, and gave up before she even started. She was tired, hungry, and in excruciating pain. Putting her head down in defeat, she suddenly noticed two small puncture wounds in her right breast. She gasped.
"You bit me!" she accused.
"What? No, I didn't," Spike defended, starting to his feet. He didn't think so anyway.
"Well, they're not birth marks."
He lowered his gaze to her chest and noticed the quickly healing wound. He frowned. "Must've been Angelus, love. I've got better things to do."
"Right. Like watching the Happy Days marathon. And it wasn't Angel. He didn't do anything kinky like that."
"Is that right? So do you remember this when you were in or out of consciousness?"
"Shut up. I know you did this, you pig."
"Whatever, Slayer. Think what you like."
"Like?!" she asked, incredulously. "You think I like the thought of your dirty fangs in my boob? Who knows where they've been!"
Spike waggled his eyebrows at her and she frowned.
"You're disgusting."
"Get used to it, love. Looks like you're stuck with me."
Her eyes grew wide. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that your prancing poof of a boyfriend decided to put the mojo on our exit."
"Huh? Speak in Earth-language, please."
He sighed. "Angelus found some way to lock us in here with magicks. Dunno how... or why, for that matter, but there's no way out. The door won't budge."
"No windows or fire exits?"
"Sorry, pet."
"Damnit! This is all you're fault, you know. If you hadn't decided to play the anti-hero and capture the main character, this never would have happened."
"My fault? You're the bint who took a midnight stroll in a cemetery of all places! You're lucky to still be alive!"
"Slayer here! I tend to mix with the oogly demon dwellings!"
Spike just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, how was I s'posed to know Angelus was going to turn on me? Bleeding bastard."
"He has a tendency to do that," she replied, her voice quiet and somewhat sad. She stopped trying to free her wrists and just sat there, head resting against the cement wall.
Spike studied her, blonde tresses just gracing her shoulders. Her green eyes seemed to have lost their vivacity, and she still had many discolored bruises and still healing cuts covering her body.
With a hesitant sigh, he reluctantly walked over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a small gold key. He decided there was no point in keeping her locked up, if she couldn't leave anyway.
"Hold your arms up, Slayer."
"Do I have a choice?"
He stepped over to her battered body and took one of the metal cuffs in his hands. With a quick twist of the key, it unlocked.
Buffy wasted no time in raising her fist and punching him clear across the room. Spike crashed against his bedside dresser and fell into a heap on the floor, unconscious.
She stood up then, massaging her swollen wrists and looking for some kind of escape route. She looked under furniture, tipping things over in the process, and perused his bathroom until she was out of breath. She even tried kicking down the door, but it was no use. Spike was right: they were trapped.
"Arrrgh!" she whined, plopping down onto his bed.
Spike lay at her feet, still unconscious. She thought about staking him right then and there, but decided against it--for the time being. She needed something to occupy her time until she found a way out, and beating him up every so often seemed like a logical pastime.
Almost ten more minutes went by before he opened his eyes, bringing a hand to his throbbing head.
"Bleeding hell," he grumbled, glancing up at the blonde girl on his bed. "Give a fellow a break--I did rescue you, you know."
She raised an eyebrow incredulously.
"Rescued me? You really do have a twisted way of thinking Spike," she retorted. "Drusilla lend a hand in that department?"
"Hey, Dru's a good girl. A bit... eccentric, maybe, but..."
She just stared at him. He sighed.
"Alright, she's a sodding nutcase. A spitfire in the bedroom though," he mused, recalling a fonder memory that involved various kitchen utensils and a buzz saw.
"Ugh. Thanks, but not really on a need-to-know basis with your sex life, Spike," Buffy commented, a disgusted look on her face.
"Pity," he grinned.
She just rolled her eyes.
"Look, are you sure there's no way out? I'm tired, hungry, and I really have to pee."
"Positive. And it's not my fault you decided to get all kick happy with your food. I was doin' you a favor."
"Oh, cut the noble crap," she spat, standing up from his bed. "None of this would have happened if you didn't laser tag me last night."
"I'm a vampire!" he reminded her, also standing up. "It's a thing we do."
"Last time I checked, vampires didn't make with the zappy machines."
"I was tryin' something new. Can't blame a bloke for wantin' a bit of variety in his unlife."
"Ugh... fine, whatever," she held up her hands, exasperated. "Just shut up. You're giving me a headache."
"And I'm sure the almighty fruitcake had nothin' to do with that."
"Do you want me to get re-acquainted with your face?"
"Do you want to get re-acquainted with your shackles?"
"Oh, please. You'd be dust before I let you lay a finger on me."
"Is that right?" he countered.
"Absolutely," she said, sure of herself.
Spike just nodded and looked away. She frowned and did the same. But before she knew what hit her, Spike threw her on the bed, and mounted her with record speed. She stared up at him, eyes wide.
"I'd say more than a finger, love," he grinned, holding her tiny wrists above her head.
"Get off," she demanded, trying to wiggle free.
Spike groaned as her heated body writhed beneath him.
"Plan on it."
Buffy swallowed hard, knowing the meaning of his words all too well.
"Try anything and I'll kill you," she threatened, trying not to think about the feel of his hard body pressing intimately against her own.
"Yeah? That'll be a bit tricky, now won't it? I mean, logically speaking of course. You're all trapped beneath me with no weapon. And me--well, let's just say I'm not complaining," he smiled, eyes roving over her lush curves.
She sucked in a breath when he nudged his erection between her thighs. Oh god... this wasn't supposed to feel good.
"You like that, don't you," he whispered, his lips in her hair. He brought his mouth close to her ear and added: "You want me."
She moaned softly at his words, unconsciously pressing her body upwards.
"I don't," she lied, her voice low and raspy.
"No?"
His hand made it's way up her jean-clad leg, quickly finding the main attraction. He realized her juices were already seeping through the thick fabric, and he groaned inwardly at the thought of burying himself deep inside of her wet heat.
With his hand firmly between her legs, he began to move it back and forth, enticing various sounds from her parted lips.
"Oh..." she breathed, reveling in the sensations he was bringing her. He had barely touched her and she was practically coming in her pants--literally. But it wasn't enough... she needed more. She quickly raised her shaking hands and began unbuttoning her jeans.
"That's my girl," he cooed, helping her pull off the offending material.
Her jeans were quickly around her ankles and Spike was greeted with a small, red thong. He grinned, and pulled it down with his teeth. Buffy swallowed hard, unsure of what was about to happen. But all doubts left her mind, when Spike's mouth dipped down and took her pulsing flesh into his mouth.
"Oh god!" she gasped, at the feel of his cool tongue delving deep inside of her. She had never felt anything like it before.
Spike let a purely male smile wash over him, but continued his ministrations. He ran his teeth along her outer lips, and let a moan slip when she latched her ankles around his neck. He sucked her hard, letting her juices flow freely onto his tongue. She writhed in pleasure beneath him, her back arched up off the bed. He could feel her muscles tighten as his teeth found the small bead of flesh buried beneath her curls. He bit down lightly and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.
"Oh, Spike... yes..." she moaned, her fingernails clawing at the bed sheets. She didn't think she could hold on much longer.
"Let it go, baby," he told her, taking two of his fingers and slipping them inside of her dripping warmth.
"Oh!" she cried, lifting her body even farther off the bed.
He probed her depths with his talented fingers, his mouth continuing to suck on her clit. Her legs pulled his face closer to her mound, as the sensations built up inside of her. Spike felt her body tense, as he sucked and explored her, and a wave of ecstasy began to course through her.
"Oh god, oh god... Spike!" she screamed, closing her eyes tightly, as her orgasm hit her. Blinding shocks took over her body, as her juices poured out of her like a fountain. Spike lapped at them greedily, drinking her for all she was worth.
When the final waves died down, her body collapsed onto the bed, exhausted and satisfied. For the following five minutes, all that was heard was Buffy's ragged breathing, as Spike buttoned back up her jeans. He finally broke the silence.
"So, don't I get a thank you? Or better yet, a favor in return?"
This finally brought Buffy out of her euphoric state. She sat up straight, eyes still glazed over.
"Excuse me?" she blinked. The reality of what just happened suddenly came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. Spike just... he just... "Oh god."
"I'll never get tired of hearing that," he smirked, preparing himself for what lie ahead.
"I let you... oh, my god!" She shot out of bed so fast, she felt dizzy. This couldn't be happening. How could she let him do that? How could she... "This never happened," she bit out, eyes wild with rage.
"It didn't? Funny, I seem to recall a bit of... happening," he replied, looking her flushed body up and down. God, he wanted her so bad.
"No, it didn't. It didn't happen. This memory is erased, deleted, forgotten... wh-whatever! It's gone! Got it?"
"Not quite, pet. I did a favor for you, now you do me. In the literal sense, of course."
"Eww, god! No! Spike, just... no! I'm not touching anything on you!"
"Why not?" he whined, his pants becoming more restricted by the second.
"Well, evil comes to mind. And also the complete ick factor?!"
Spike growled and stalked towards her, pushing her up against the wall. She stiffened in his grasp, their faces merely inches away.
"It's funny how those factors didn't weigh in when my face was between your legs," he whispered seriously, his eyes fixated on her face.
Buffy sucked in a breath at his words, remembering how his cool mouth felt against her heated flesh. But she quickly shook her head and pushed him away.
"Shut up," she ground out, ignoring her body's reaction to his nearness. "You're a vampire, you're evil, and you're pain in the ass. And I'm the Slayer, who's both good and NOT a pain in the ass. So, please. Let's just forget this ever happened, okay?"
"You're not gettin' off that easy, Slayer," he said, and then grinned. "Well, not as easy as before anyway."
"Ugh! Will you stop that? Stuff happens. Bad, gross stuff. I was stupid, and crazy, a-and--"
"Horny?" Spike supplied.
"No! Well, maybe a little," she frowned. "But that's beside the point!"
Spike rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he relented, taking off his shirt and throwing it on the bed. "It's forgotten. I'll just go to bed while you wallow in self-pity."
Buffy took a moment to eye his naked torso, which was deliciously pale and well-defined. Damnit, Buffy!
"Fine!" she agreed, and then noticed that he was taking the bed. "Hey!"
He groaned. "What now?"
"You're making me sleep on the floor?" she asked, incredulously.
"Well, yeah."
"But it's all... cement!"
"Oh well," he sighed, making himself comfortable.
She glared daggers at him. "Whatever, I'm taking a shower. I feel... dirty," she said disgustedly, stepping into his bathroom and slamming the door.
Buffy peeled her clothes from off of her, which were sticky from sweat and blood. She crinkled her nose and tossed them to the ground. Turning on the warm water, she stepped into the porcelain tub and sighed when soothing liquid hit her skin.
Finally alone, she let her mind wander. It inevitably wandered to Spike. Stupid wandering mind.
She sighed, running her hands through her newly dampened hair. What the hell had gotten into her? Besides the horniness and temporary insanity, that is. She had always found Spike sexy, with his British accent and bad boy appeal... but she never would have thought about letting herself go like that. She was a good girl--one of upstanding morals and values. Good girls don't let vampires do that to them. Especially Slayers. She sighed to herself, trying to get the annoying bleached wonder out of her head.
Meanwhile, Spike was lost in his own world that consisted of naked, screaming Slayers. He was tempted to jump in the shower and ravage her right then and there, but decided to wait it out. She'd come to him in time.
Soon he heard the shower go off and a dripping Buffy stepped out in a white towel. Well, as white as his towels were with the dirt and the blood...
"I can't believe I'm actually letting this touch my skin," she mumbled, trying to hold the towel away from her, but not too much so he could sneak a peep.
"It's quite fetching on you, I have to say. Don't know why you bother with all that other nonsense."
"Nonsense? It's called clothes, you moron."
He shrugged, letting his eyes wander over her bare skin.
"C'mere, pet," he cooed, just the sight of her making him hard.
"Shut up. Help me find a shirt," she ignored him, not letting the silky sound of his voice have any effect on her.
"Sod the shirt."
"Sod you!" She frowned. "What does 'sod' even mean?"
Spike sighed and stood up, when Buffy began rummaging through his drawers.
"Leave a bloke's unmentionables alone, will you?" He then pulled a shirt out of a hamper. "Here, this'll do you."
She snatched the black material out of his hand and looked it over. It was practically ripped to shreds, with holes where her private areas should be. She shook her head and threw it back at him, pulling a more intact shirt out of his drawer. But before she made it back to the bathroom, two strong arms encircled her waist and he began to nuzzle her neck. She swallowed hard, as his hands roamed up and down her body and teeth began nibbling on her earlobe. She felt herself weakening...
"Mmm," she sighed, as he ran his tongue along her neck.
"Let me fuck you, Slayer," he growled, pressing his erection up against her bottom.
This snapped Buffy out of her daze and she whipped around and pushed him off of her.
"Pig," she muttered, before disappearing back into the bathroom.
~~~
"I can't wear this," Buffy complained, dressed in her red thong and Spike's black t-shirt that barely covered her ass.
Spike just grinned, from his place on the bed.
"Ugh," she grumbled, pulling down on the thin material. "And I still can't believe you're making me sleep on the floor."
"I'm not! You're welcome to climb in 'ere with yours truly."
"Yeah, right. That's a laugh," she rolled her eyes, and then glanced up at him. "And put some clothes on, if you don't mind."
"Tempted?"
"Hardly."
"Then why bother?"
"Because it's distracting," she told him. "And not in the good way. More in the 'I get barfy feelings every time I look at you' kinda way."
He rolled his eyes. "Well, I've got my pants on. And you've got my last shirt. So it looks like I'm stuck like this 'til your lover boy decides the door looks better when it's open."
"Will you stop that? Angel isn't my boyfriend anymore."
"Could 'ave fooled me."
She sighed. "And what's that's supposed to mean?"
"Just that every time I mention him, you get this look."
"What? I do not get a look," she argued, hands on her hips.
"Yeah, you do."
"No. I don't."
He just stared at her, eyebrow arched.
"Fine. What so-called "look" do I get?"
"Oh, just the typical, pathetic schoolgirl look. With a bit of a "oh no, my poofy hunny bunny is killing my friends" look thrown in for good measure."
"You really have issues, Spike."
He shrugged, flipping through the TV channels.
"Whatever. I'm going to bed," she decided, taking one of his blankets.
"Hey! That's mine," he griped, yanking it back.
"Spike! I need something to sleep on!" she demanded, pulling harder.
They continued pulling with mutual strength until Buffy grinned and let go. Spike, who had been kneeling on the bed, flew backwards and landed on the floor in a tangle of sheets. She smiled proudly, and climbed up and into his bed, pulling the remaining covers up to her chin.
"Bloody bitch," Spike cursed, unraveling himself and standing up. He then jumped on top of her, pinning her to the bed like before. "Shouldn't 'ave done that, Slayer."
Buffy was unaffected, or at least pretended to be, by his maneuvers this time, and rolled out from under him.
"Nice try," she said, sitting up with her legs dangling over the side of the bed.
He growled and did the same.
"At least let me bite you?"
Buffy looked at him as if he had grown a second head and stood up, making her way over to the opposite side of the bed to get the blanket.
"How do you even know what time it is?" she wondered, fluffing out her makeshift bed for the night. "There's no windows or anything."
Spike took out a clock from one of his drawers.
"9:02 P.M.," he told her setting it back down. "Could be out havin' myself a prime kill right about now."
"Cry me a river," she said sarcastically, laying down in the uncomfortable pile of cotton.
"Oh well," he sighed, getting into his own bed. "Sleep tight, Slayer. Don't be alarmed if I kill you during the night."
Buffy rolled her eyes for the millionth time that day. Spike then turned off the light and the room went black. She sighed to herself and closed her eyes.
~~~
Buffy had to pee.
"Damnit," she cursed, unable to hold it in any longer. She had seen the toilet in Spike's bathroom and it was nothing she ever wanted to see again. But her bladder had other plans, so she kicked off her covers and stood up on wobbly legs.
It took her forever to actually find the door to the bathroom, due to the extreme darkness, but she finally did and slipped inside. To her dismay, there was no light.
"And it just keeps getting better," she huffed, feeling her way to the small toilet. When her hand came in contact with it, she lifted the lid and sat down, cringing the entire time.
When she finished, she stood up, washed her hands, and made her way back to her floor space. On the way, she heard a movement in the darkness and looked around.
"Spike?" she whispered. She could practically feel him. "Quit playing games. I know you're there."
Then suddenly, she was being crushed against the wall, her shoulders held in a powerful grip.
"'Mornin', love."
"Get your hands off me," she ordered, struggling against him. "And turn on a light--I can't see a thing."
Her request went unanswered though, and she squeaked in surprise when his hands made their way underneath her t-shirt. They burned her flesh, sending unwanted shivers up her spine. His hand found one of her breasts and fondled it roughly, bringing her nipple to a tight peak.
"Oooh," she cooed, leaning into his touch. "Spike, stop..."
"You know you want this, Slayer. You want me inside you." His voice was deep and seductive, making her swallow hard. The way his hands caressed her sensitive skin made all other thoughts leave her mind.
"Yes," she finally whispered, the word disappearing into the dark.
She heard Spike groan and unzip his jeans, freeing himself from his restraints. Buffy swallowed in anticipation, and suddenly felt herself being lifted off the ground. She ripped off her panties, wrapped her legs around his lower half, and gasped when she felt the tip of his cock brush against her dripping entrance.
"I need you now," she demanded, rubbing against him to obtain some sort of friction.
Spike was happy to oblige, and wasted no time in pushing himself deep inside of her hard and fast.
"Uhn!" she cried out, the sensation almost making her dizzy.
"Cor, Slayer. so tight." he breathed into her ear, letting her adjust to the size of him.
She soon started to move against him, hands running through his hair. Spike grabbed her ass, pulling her closer to him, and burying his cock even deeper inside her fiery depths. He then pulled out almost all the way, and slowly thrust back in. Buffy shut her eyes and raked her fingernails down his bare back. He hissed at the contact, squeezing her ass tighter, as he pummeled her sex.
"Oh, god," she moaned, the words only enticing him to fuck her harder. She had never felt anything like this before. With Angel it had been gentle and sweet. This was brutal, punishing. absolutely delicious. She threw her head back against the wall, as Spike buried his face against the crook of her neck.
"You're so perfect, baby," he ground out, pumping into her with desperate strokes. He then reached his hand down between her legs and fingered her clit, enticing another moan from her sweet lips.
"Spike," she breathed, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. "Don't stop."
"Never."
"Promise?"
He just grinned, and ran his cool tongue along her neck, lapping up the sheen of sweat that dwelled there. A tiny mewl escaped her, as he continued to fuck her against the wall. His fingers worked her steadily, and it wasn't long before he felt her body start to tense.
"Uhhhh," she grunted, feeling her orgasm begin to wash over her.
Spike squeezed his eyes shut, as her inner muscles coaxed him, bringing him closer to the edge. Soon Buffy cried out in pleasure, her nails digger deeply into his flesh.
"Fuck," Spike growled, and came fiercely inside of her with one last, violent thrust.
Buffy let out a final gasp, practically collapsing against him. His face was still hidden in her neck and they were both breathing heavily, trying to come to terms with what just happened. Her entire body was a mass of quivering nerves and she didn't think she could move if she tried. The feel of him in her arms felt oddly comforting.
Spike finally lifted his head to look at her, his eyes glazed over in sated passion. He swallowed hard, taking in ever ounce of her beautiful, flushed face. A tentative hand reached out and placed a strand of dampened hair behind her ear.
"You're amazing," he whispered softly to her, surprised at how emotional he sounded. Get a grip, you bloody wanker!
Buffy frowned in confusion, her heart rate picking up. The tone of his voice was just so. nice. So un-Spike. She shook her head and unwrapped her legs from around his waist. Spike sighed and reluctantly took a step back, slipping out of her wet core. It wasn't long before they were both dressed again and Buffy had gone to take another shower.
He cursed under his breath, as he turned on a light. What the hell was wrong with him? He tried not to dwell on it, and leaned back on his bed, draping an arm over his eyes with an exasperated sigh.
Stupid, stupid, stupid Buffy, she scolded herself, roughly scrubbing the sweat off her still-tingling skin. What the hell was wrong with her? She had completely let Spike screw her into a beautiful oblivion, while she moaned and groaned like some sort of whore! She was completely disgusted with herself. And then he goes off and tells her she's amazing! What the fuck? Since when did Spike suddenly become Mr. Sweet and Sensitive guy? During those few minutes of absolutely mind-blowing sex? Arrrgh.
She quickly turned the water off, and reluctantly pulled Spike's t-shirt back over her head. She dried her hair with a towel and slowly made her way out of the bathroom. The light was now on and Spike was lying down on the side of his bed. She swallowed hard, praying that he had just fallen asleep or something.
"If you need another shirt, it's in the top drawer," he mumbled, not bothering to look up at her. Buffy just held her head high, and stalked off to find a less sex-smelling t-shirt. She glanced over at him, making sure he wasn't looking, and quickly changed.
"What time is it?" she wondered curtly, stepping around the bed to sit down on her ball of blanket.
Spike reluctantly sat up and pulled out the small clock. "Almost seven," he told her.
Buffy sighed. How long was she going to have to stay here? There was absolutely nothing to do. That's why you had sex with Spike. Lack of options, she tried to rationalize.
Meanwhile, Spike was also trying to make sense of his very close encounter with Buffy Summers. Hot body. Slayer muscles. Pouty lips. Luminous green eyes.
Bloody hell. Luminous? He was almost worse than Angel. Almost being the key word. He shook his head, just then realizing that Buffy had been speaking to him.
". so don't even think about it," she finished.
"Come again?"
"What?!" Buffy asked, incredulously. "I will not come again! Not with you, anyway."
Spike was confused. "I meant, repeat yourself. I didn't hear you."
She rolled her eyes. "I said, if you touch me again, you're as good as dust. So don't even think about it."
"Don't get your knickers in a twist," he sighed. "I wouldn't go back for seconds if you paid me."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
"I think you know."
Buffy tried not to let his words affect her. Angel had said something similar right after he turned. Was she really that terrible? Even Spike didn't want her again, and he was a vampire! A dead, evil creature that would probably get off by sticking his dick in a light socket! Oh, god.
Spike glanced over at her, and she was looking up at him from her place on the floor. Her eyes were wide and wounded, and he noticed her bottom lip begin to quiver. Sodding, bleeding, buggering.
"Okay, maybe if you paid me," he tried to correct himself, making Buffy's eyes go even wider.
"You asshole!" she spat, standing up on shaking legs.
"What?"
"I can't believe I had sex with you! You're nothing but a disgusting thing, that I should have dusted long ago."
"Well, you didn't. And it's either because you can't take me or because you wanted to shag me. Fortunately, both work in my favor," he grinned.
"Oh, please. That's not why."
He arched a scarred brow. She stood her ground.
"Well, then. Enlighten me, Slayer."
"It's because. hummm." Well? Why isn't he a pile of dust? "Because all of your evil schemes end up failing miserably anyway, so what's the point? It's fun to watch you make an idiot of yourself."
"That the best you got?"
She nodded brightly.
"If you say so. But in case you haven't noticed, all of my recent evil schemes have seemed to work out just fine," he leered.
"Shyeah. Getting us locked in your stinky room with nothing but a crappy TV that doesn't even get cable."
He growled. "That's not what I meant."
"Oh, right," she corrected herself. "Getting us stuck in your stinky room with nothing but a crappy TV that doesn't even get cable, and no food."
"I've got food."
"Really? Why didn't you say anything?"
She noticed his eyes fixated on her neck and she realized what he meant. "Like that's gonna happen."
"Like you 'ave a choice?"
"Well, duh," she huffed.
It was then silent for a while. Buffy stared ahead of her, using all of her willpower not to turn her head and gaze into his hypnotizing blue eyes.
"Spike?" she suddenly asked.
"Yeah?"
"Did you mean what you said?"
"I say a lot of things, Slayer," he sighed.
"About me being bad."
"Never said you were bad. I recall mentioning you were amazing."
Buffy gulped. "But then you said you wouldn't go back for seconds, even if-"
"Yeah, I remember what I said. I lied."
"So you would? Go back for seconds, I mean?"
"In a heartbeat."
"Your heart doesn't beat."
"It's a metaphor heart."
She smiled a bit, despite herself. "Good. Not that I'd let you go back for seconds, mind you."
"We'll see," Spike grinned, before pulling a magazine out from under his bed and lying back down.
~~~
"Spike?"
Bloody hell. Does the chit ever shut up?
"What is it now, Slayer?"
"I'm bored," she whined. "And super hungry."
Almost two hours had gone by-mostly in silence, aside from Buffy's constant questions-and they were still locked in.
"Yeah, well, get used to it. I'm locked in here all day."
"But you're a vampire. You're easily amused."
"You're one to talk. You dated Angel."
Okay, that was kinda funny. Still, she didn't show it. "Why do you hate him so much? Isn't he like your dad?"
"Granddad's more like it. Drusilla sired me."
"Ew."
He raised a brow. "What's ew?"
"The fact that you sleep with her! She's practically your mother."
Spike cringed. "It's not like that."
"So what's it like?"
Buffy, grasping any source of entertainment she could get, stood up from her spot on the floor and climbed into bed with him.
"Uh." he muttered, momentarily distracted. "Never really thought 'bout it before."
She sighed, leaning against the bed frame next to him. "I never understood that whole vampire/sire thing. It all seemed kinda kinky to me."
"But you like kinky, am I right?"
"Um, no. Sorry to disappoint."
"You shag vampires. Somethin' that would definitely fall under the category of "kinky"," he rolled his eyes.
"I don't. okay, I do. But it's different! I loved Angel."
"And me?"
Buffy glanced at him, face flushing. She didn't really have an answer for that.
Spike sighed. "Forget it."
"Already forgotten."
"Bitch."
"Asshole."
"Bint."
"Idiot."
And in a flash they were on each other, tearing at each other's clothes. As Spike tried to pull the shirt from up over her head, Buffy stopped him and swooped her head down to capture his lips. His eyes shot open, momentarily stunned by the bold gesture. It occurred to him then that this was the first time they actually kissed. Sure, he had shagged her senseless-but their lips had never once touched.
Buffy didn't know what came over her. There she was, lying on top of him as they groped and pawed at each other, when the sudden urge to kiss him overtook her senses. His lips were just so full and sensual and. oh god, this felt good.
Their tongues battled for dominance, just as fiercely as their words and fists did on numerous occasions. Mutual moans could be heard throughout the room as Spike held the back of Buffy's head to him, tasting every inch of her luscious mouth. His tongue raked along the roof of her hot cavern, enticing several tiny mewls from the back of her throat.
It wasn't long before Buffy reached down and pulled Spike's black shirt over her head, desperate to feel her flesh against his. The initial contact made her shiver, as her puckered breasts pressed up against his cool chest. And in an instant, she was kissing him again, unable to get enough of his talented mouth. Their tongues entwined, as Spike reached down to unbutton his jeans. Unable to pry her lips from his, she moved her hands southward, helping him pull the pants down his legs.
"I can't stop kissing you," she breathed against his mouth, feeling his cock emerge from the confinements of his jeans and stab her in the thigh.
"You taste so bloody good," Spike agreed, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her closer.
Soon the only barrier between them was Buffy's soaked panties, which were quickly discarded. She tossed them over the side of the bed and wasted no time in crashing her mouth against his once again. They both groaned.
"Need to feel you, Slayer," he ground out, feeling her wet heat press against his raging hard on. "Need to be inside you."
Buffy gasped, and hurriedly reached her hand down, taking his large cock in her tiny hand. His face contorted in pleasure at her maneuvers and soon she was positioning him directly at her dripping entrance.
A connection passed between them as Buffy held him in her hand. Their eyes locked together and they didn't move. Not for several seconds did they move a single muscle. But soon Buffy closed her eyes, breaking the moment and rubbed the head of his cock over her slit. She let out a breathy moan, and quickly slid down onto him.
"Fuck." Spike swore, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Feeling her surround him, taking every inch of him in, was almost unbearable. "Feels so bloody good."
"Mmm," Buffy cooed, placing her hands on his bare chest. She felt his hands reach up to grasp her waist, and she immediately began moving on top of him. The initial pace she set was languid and slow, just savoring the feel of his shaft buried inside of her to the hilt. He stretched her inner walls like never before, touching a place deep inside of her.
Soon her speed began to quicken-she rode him faster, harder, throwing her head back in ecstasy. Spike growled, thrusting up into her and matching her frantic rhythm. It wasn't long before Buffy found herself being flipped over onto her back, the blonde vampire looming over her. She gasped when his fingers descended upon her throbbing clit, vigorously rubbing the swollen bud into a frenzy.
"Oh god," she panted, arching up off the bed.
Spike pounded into her, feeling her inner muscles clench and tense around his shaft. The bed frame struck the wall furiously, and they were sure that anyone who was currently in the old mansion could hear them. But neither of them cared. All they cared about was the delicious release that loomed just ahead of them.
"Faster," Buffy pleaded, clutching onto his forearms and leaving deep, penetrating nail marks. "Harder."
Spike was happy to comply, as he felt Buffy's legs wrap around his waist, holding him to her. He leaned his head down, burying his face against her slick neck. He could practically feel the blood pumping in her veins, and his lust for her only intensified. He could sense his orgasm nearing and he wanted nothing more than to dig his fangs into her slender throat and drink deep of her intoxicating fluid. And just as he was thinking that, Buffy's hand rose up and pressed the back of his head to her neck. His eyes widened a bit, unsure of what she wanted. Lick her? Kiss her? Bite her? His question was soon answered, as her ragged breath whispered into his ear.
"Do it," she said, wrapping her fingers around the fine strands of hair. "Bite me, Spike."
That was all it took for Spike's human visage to vanish, and in its place was the demon that lived inside. His fangs descended, and lightly nipped the sensitive skin upon her throat. She squirmed beneath him, their bodies continuing to slam together.
And then he bit her.
Buffy cried out, the feel of his teeth penetrating her body almost intolerable. The pain was excruciating, making her eyes water and her body tense. But the pleasure was even more powerful-making her toes curl and her skin sing.
As he drank the life from her, an orgasm hit her so hard she almost passed out. Stars and other various shapes and objects passed before her eyes, forcing another scream from her lips. Her body shook and convulsed beneath him, her legs wrapping even tighter around his lean body.
Spike was in heaven. Yes, this was most definitely heaven. Her warm blood spilled onto his tongue and he greedily drank it down. The combination of his fangs and cock nestled inside of her was almost too much, and he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure. Almost immediately after he bit her, Buffy's body began to shudder beneath him, an orgasm taking over her entire body. The feel over her inner walls clamping down around him, gripping him like a vise, was enough to prompt his own release.
"Buffy. Slayer. holy fuck." he panted, withdrawing his fangs from her neck.
She continued to writhe beneath him as he emptied his dead seed into her welcoming channel.
"Yes," she cried, feeling another orgasm pass through her body in intense waves.
They rode out their release together, clutching to each other for dear life. It felt like millenniums had gone by before Spike finally collapsed on top of her.
Buffy gasped as his weight descended onto her. She continued to hold onto his arms, her breathing still heavy and her legs still wrapped firmly around his thighs. Moments later, Spike rolled off of her, taking in his own unnecessary gulps of air.
"That was."
"Yeah." Buffy sighed.
No more words passed between them. They both lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the faintest of smiles gracing their sated faces.
~~~
Buffy opened her eyes, only to find herself wrapped up in the arms of a naked vampire. It only took her a few moments to realize that the said naked vampire was Spike. He was facing her, his arm draped loosely over her waist. Buffy could feel his chest vibrating and she frowned in curiosity. Straining her ears, she didn't doubt for a second that Spike was purring. She stifled a giggle.
Why was that so adorable to her? She should be pushing him away, telling him what a disgusting thing he was.
Yep, that's definitely what she should do. Push him away.
Uh-huh. Any minute now.
Buffy sighed. She was too content to move and too exhausted to argue with herself. She had hot, sweaty sex with the bleached vampire only hours ago-there was no point in questioning herself now. That could come later when she wasn't the most relaxed she had ever been in her entire life.
Spike was vaguely aware of the warm body nestled up against him. He was too busy dreaming about the Slayer riding him into oblivion. Wait, did that actually happen?
He opened his eyes, coming face to face with the pretty blonde.
"Buffy?"
"Mmm-hmm?"
He blinked a few more times, the memories all rushing back. Ooh, good memories. He grinned to himself and rolled over, so he was lying on his back. Buffy was still resting against him, her hand splayed out across his chest. Why was she still here? Why wasn't she rushing off to the shower, claiming she felt dirty and violated? He didn't know. And frankly, he didn't give a flying fuck.
"What exactly happened between us?"
Her voice broke into his thoughts, forcing them down another path. "Uh, we had sex?"
"Yeah, I was kinda there. That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you-"
Suddenly the sound of a door creaking open interrupted their conversation. They both shot up, glancing towards Spike's bedroom door. To their surprise, it was open. No one was there, but it was still open, swaying back and forth on its hinges.
"What the bloody hell is goin' on?" Spike wondered aloud.
"No idea. But I am so gone."
His dead heart constricted at that, for a reason unknown to him. "Uh, you're leaving?"
She looked at him, as she scrambled around for her panties. "Why wouldn't I be? Isn't this what we've been waiting for, for the past day or two? To leave?"
Spike nodded slowly. "Right," was all he said.
"God, I can't wait to eat. I'm starved!"
He swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. What the hell was his problem? It's not like he was going to miss her or anything. She looked over at him then, dragging the red thong all the way up.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked, just as she finished pulling his black t-shirt over her head.
"In a minute."
Buffy smiled a bit, eyes roaming over the smooth planes of his chest. Something tore at her heartstrings, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. It's not like she was going to miss him or anything.
"So, uh, I'll see you around then?" he offered, awkwardly.
Jeez, awkward much? "Um, yeah. We'll." Hang out? Catch up? Have lots of amazingly amazing sex? ". do the mortal enemies thing. You know, fighting and such."
"Of course. 'Cause you know." He pointed between them. "Mortal enemies."
"Absolutely."
It was silent. Too silent. Cartoon crickets could be heard in the background.
"Well, um. I better go. My mom's probably worried sick."
"Yeah. Oh, and take the back entrance. Angelus and Dru usually lurk about the front."
"Gotcha," she replied. Not knowing what else to say, she began to turn around.
"Buffy?" he called out, before she disappeared out the door.
She faced him. God, why was this so hard? "Yeah?"
An unreadable look passed over his face. "Will you be back?"
There it was. The question that changed everything. The question that forced her to actual think about what happened, and to decide whether or not it should happen again. The ball was in her court.
With a deep breath, she answered him. "Never."
He smiled. "Promise?"
Buffy didn't say anything. She only stared at him for a moment too long, before letting a smile of her own wash over her lips.
And then she was gone.
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