|
_______________
It had been overcast all day but even so, the
soaking rain caught Buffy by surprise. Standing in the recessed doorway of an old sealed-up mausoleum, she shivered violently
as the wind blew the icy rain in on her. She was torn between waiting for a break in the rain and just sucking it up and making
a run for home. The only problem with that plan was that she was wearing her favorite suede jacket. It would surely get ruined
in the rain.
Spike stalked through the cemetery head down cursing the rain that plastered his hair against his head
and ran in rivulets into his eyes. He almost missed seeing the small form huddled in the doorway of the Anderson crypt. Stopping,
he smirked as he watched a shiver rack the Slayer's body.
"Now there's a pathetic sight."
"Drop dead, Spike.
Oh wait, you already are dead."
"Yeah, which means the cold doesn't bother me. Unlike some Slayers I could name. Night
a bit dampish for you, pet?"
"Go away, Spike, before I decide to warm myself up by kicking your ass."
Instead
of walking away, Spike moved even closer. "Looking a little blue there, Slayer. Maybe if I hang around long enough you'll
freeze to death. Not as good as killing you myself, but watching you die slowly has its merits."
Buffy just glared
at him as another shiver tore through her body. Sighing inwardly she came to a conclusion. The rain wasn't going to let up
anytime soon and neither was Spike. Pushing away from the door, she stepped out into the drenching downpour, pushed past Spike,
and turned in the direction of her home. When Spike fell in step beside her, she glared at him and snapped, "What the hell
do you think you're doing now, Spike."
"Walking home, Slayer."
For the first time, Buffy realized that she
was indeed in Spike's cemetery. "Well walk home some other way. Just get away from me."
Her words may have had more
bite if it weren't for the fact that her mascara was running and she was blinking her eyes rapidly trying to clear her vision.
Spike grinned at the picture she presented - long blond hair hanging in sodden clumps around her face, eyes black from running
mascara, stylish boots covered in mud and grass clippings, pant legs soaked through.
But when she shivered again and
her teeth chattered, Spike stopped smiling. "You need to get out of this rain, Slayer, before you catch pneumonia."
"Brilliant
observation, Spike. That's why I going home."
"My place is closer," he said as nonchalantly as he could.
"What?"
"My place. It's closer. You could hole up there until the rain stops."
"Yeah, like it's so much better to
hang around in a damp musty crypt instead of going to my nice warm house."
Spike shrugged. "Up to you, but I do have
blankets you could wrap up in and at least it'd be out of the rain. You'll be another twenty minutes at least before you get
home."
"Why are you offering me shelter and blankets?" Buffy asked suspiciously.
"Look," Spike said casually,
"I'm just trying to do you a favor. You want to get out of the rain at my place, fine. You don't, that's fine too. No skin
off my nose either way."
As fate would have it, the wind blew a little harder just at that moment sending more of
the freezing rain into Buffy's face and down the back of her neck. She gasped at the driving force of the downpour as another
fierce shiver coursed through her. Making up her mind, she headed toward Spike's crypt. It was fortunate for Spike that she
didn't see the triumphant gleam in his eye.
***
Buffy stood in the middle of Spike's bedroom dripping and
shivering as he rummaged through a chest finally pulling out a thick, fluffy blanket. Throwing it to her he said, "Here, get
your clothes off and wrap up in this. I'll get you a towel."
"I'm not taking my clothes off, Spike," Buffy exclaimed.
"Look, you stupid bint, that blanket won't do a bloody bit of good as long as you're in those sodden wet clothes.
Take 'em off so I can hang 'em up to dry. Your virtue's safe with me, Summers."
Buffy looked at him suspiciously but
finally said, "Fine. Get out of here and don't come back till I call."
Nodding, Spike walked out of the chamber and
headed to the small area he'd fixed up as a bathroom of sorts. Removing his own wet clothes, he grabbed a towel and began
to dry off. When he heard Buffy call, he wrapped the damp towel around his waist, grabbed a fresh towel and headed back to
his bedchamber.
She was still standing in the middle of the room, but now she was wrapped in the blanket, small bare
feet sticking out from the bottom. Spike swallowed when he saw her clothes draped over the chest. He was so busy trying not
to stare at her that he didn't notice that she was staring at him.
"Uh, I brought you a towel to dry your hair, Buffy,"
he said a little huskily.
She made no move to take the towel. Tilting his head to the left a little he asked, "Don't
you want to dry your hair?"
"Where are your clothes?" she asked in a husky whisper.
"Oh," he said looking
down at himself. "I was soaked through too. Thought I'd dry off."
Buffy admonished herself to take her eyes from his
body, to turn her head, to look away from him. It didn't work. She continued to stare.
God, he was beautiful. She'd
been aware on a subliminal level that he was handsome and sexy, in an annoying sort of way. But she told herself on a regular
basis that she felt nothing toward him but disdain. Certainly not desire. She did not desire Spike. And she absolutely did
not remember enjoying the kisses and caresses they'd shared when under Willow's "My Will Be Done" spell. She told herself
this time and again so she knew that it was true. He was a vampire, her mortal enemy. And the fact that he was now standing
before her nearly naked revealing a body compact and muscular did not change the fact that she positively did not want
him.
Spike's breath caught in his throat when he scented her awakening desire. Walking toward her slowly so as not
to startle her, he draped the towel over her head and began to gently rub her hair.
"We need to get you all dried
off, luv," he told her in a soft voice. "Don't want you catching cold now, do we? Can't have Sunnydale's guardian brought
low by a germ."
Buffy closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his fingers massaging her scalp through the thickness
of the towel. His richly timbered voice soothed her, the scent of his rain-washed body enticed her. Without conscious thought,
she leaned into him.
When Buffy parted her lips and began to pant slightly, the towel wrapped around Spike's waist
tented. Knowing that he would probably end up getting staked for his temerity, he lowered his head and brushed his lips across
hers.
Buffy's eyes flew open. Staring into his bright blue eyes she gasped, "What do you think you're doing, Spike?"
"Givin' into temptation, pet." Quirking a crooked smile he added, "'I can resist everything except temptation.'"
"I
thought you said my virtue was safe with you," she whispered.
"I lied," he growled as he brushed another kiss against
her lips, his eyes capturing and holding her gaze.
Buffy's inner voice was screaming at her to step back, slug him
or stake him, or... or something. She shouldn't allow him to get away with kissing her. They weren't under a spell. And she
shouldn't kiss him back. It was wrong. She needed to leave. Now.
Instead her gaze drifted from his eyes to his lips.
Staring at them she fully understood temptation. The fullness of his lower lip called for her to take it between her teeth
and bite gently, to bring it into her mouth and suck. She wanted to circle his lips with her tongue, to invade his mouth and
claim it as her own. She wasn't even aware of leaning forward until their mouths joined together.
Spike dropped the
towel he'd been using to dry her hair and wrapped his arms around her back, bringing her body flush up against his. They kissed
ravenously until Buffy drew back suddenly. Both gasping for breath, they stared at each other.
Spike groaned loudly
when she opened the blanket and slid her hands around his shoulders pressing her nearly nude body against Spike's, wrapping
them both in the blanket's warmth. The kiss became wild as they tried to devour each other. Spike's erection pressed wantonly
against Buffy's tight flat belly. His hands slid down her back to her bottom, pressing her even more firmly into him. When
the kiss broke, his mouth went to her neck. Buffy immediately moved her head aside to give him greater access. The thought
that he was a vampire never even crossed her mind. She thought only "want" and "need" and "must have".
Spike tasted
the sweetness of her neck, smelled the blood flowing beneath the thin layer of skin, felt the rapid pulse pounding under his
lips. But he never thought "feed" or "bite" only "want" and "need" and "must have".
Buffy moved her hands from his
shoulders to his hair losing hold of the blanket as she did so. The blanket pooled around their feet and Buffy shivered slightly
as the cool air of the crypt hit her exposed flesh. Spike felt the tremor and pulling back he looked at her with desire darkened
eyes.
"We need to get you under the covers, luv."
"Yes, please, Spike," Buffy moaned, "under the covers."
Spike bent his knees slightly and scooped Buffy up in his arms. Walking quickly to his bed, he set her down long enough
to pull back the covers and then picked her up and placed her gently down in the center of his bed. Stopping only long enough
to tear the towel from his hips, he followed her into the bed and pulled the covers over them both. Pulling her into his arms,
he half covered her with his body as he joined his mouth to hers in another searing kiss.
Buffy pulled him tightly
to her, one leg wrapping itself around his legs as she pressed her hips tight against his erection. She had never felt this
level of desire before, never this all-consuming need to join with another. She wanted him in her now.
Spike had never
felt anything like this before. He was being consumed by the heat of desire. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her
body, to join with her. He wanted to be inside her now.
Reaching behind Buffy's back, he unclasped the hooks of her
bra. Pulling it off her arms, he flung it away even as he lowered his mouth to take one small breast into his mouth. Buffy
cried out and arched her back pushing herself even closer to him. Spike sucked and licked at the swelling nipple loving the
whimpers and moans he was eliciting from her. As he nibbled and sucked at one breast, his fingers pinched and teased at the
nipple of the other. Switching his mouth to the other breast, he moved to cover her completely with his body, settling between
her thighs, sliding his cock against the smooth fabric of her panties.
Buffy wrapped both legs around his back, thrusting
up to rub against him. The crotch of her panties was soaking wet now and she could no longer stand to have them on. Lowering
her legs, she reached down with one hand and began to shove at the waistband trying to push the offending garment from her
body.
Spike realized what she was doing and raising his head from her
breast he panted, "Let me, Buffy."
Kissing
his way down her body, he hooked his fingers in the waistband and slowly drew the panties down and off her legs. They sailed
across the room to join the bra. Once they were gone, Spike pressed Buffy's legs apart, opened the lips of her sopping wet
sex, lowered his head, and licked.
Buffy almost came right then and there. Grabbing handfuls of his hair, she pressed
his face tightly to her while he eagerly rubbed his stiffened tongue all over and around her clit. When he began to shove
his sharply pointed tongue in and out of her opening, Buffy had had enough teasing.
Yanking hard on his head, she pulled
him up to her.
"God, Spike, now. Please, now."
She didn't have to ask twice. Grabbing her head, he kissed
her fiercely and then lowering his hands, he grabbed her hips to position her to receive him. Unerringly finding her opening,
he began to push slowly into her fiery heat. He'd known it'd be amazing. He just hadn't known how amazing the feel of her
would be. They gazed wonderingly into each other eyes as he claimed her. Her tightness enveloped him. His length and breadth
filled her. When he was fully seated in her, he stopped, closing his eyes and lowering his forehead to hers bringing himself
under control. He wanted this to last, but the way he was now feeling he wouldn't last two strokes.
Buffy's hands
were roaming up and down his back, her fingernails scraping against the smooth skin. Her legs were wrapped around his waist
and she was moving her hips, mindless in her need. God, he wasn't even moving yet and she was ready to climax. She needed
to climax. If she didn't get relief soon, she was afraid she would turn into a howling insane beast.
She gasped in
surprise when Spike suddenly grabbed her legs and placed them over his shoulders. Rearing up on his arms, he began to move
within her. Pulling out and then shoving in, at first the strokes were slow, seeming to take forever to complete. The position
he had Buffy in did not allow her to move so that he had complete control over the pace. However, Buffy was a Slayer and she
was not completely without resources. She began to clench and then relax her inner muscles. Spike groaned with each contraction
and started to move faster within her.
Letting her legs slip from his shoulders, he grabbed her head again and began
kissing her feverishly. Buffy slid her fingers into his hair as they kissed. Her legs wrapped tightly around him as she thrust
in time with him. Their bodies slammed together with a bruising force. The mattress squeaked in protest and the bed literally
bounced off the floor from the force of their mating. And when they came, their cries echoed throughout the crypt.
Spike
collapsed bonelessly on top of Buffy. Her legs slid weakly from his back to lay limply on the backs of his calves. Neither
moved nor spoke for several minutes as they recovered. When at last Spike could gather up the strength to move, he raised
himself slightly to look at Buffy. He half feared what he'd see when he looked into her eyes. Shock? Anger? Disgust? He was
sure it wouldn't be anything good. Now that the passion was spent, she would probably hate herself for succumbing to the desire
that Spike had long sensed was there.
What he saw surprised him.
Buffy gazed back at him with an almost feline
look of contentment.
"Well."
Spike smiled at her. "Well, indeed."
Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss
across her lips. "You all right, Buffy?"
Buffy laughed slightly and then caught her breath at the sensation it caused
from where they were still joined. Spike could hardly believe his eyes when he saw hers darken in renewed desire. He hardened
immediately and began to slowly thrust. Buffy closed her eyes and arched into him. Spike was amazed he was making love to
her again so soon. Just minutes ago he'd been as spent as he'd ever been in his life. But one look from his Slayer and he
found the strength to begin again.
It wasn't wild and fierce like the first time. It was something different and much,
much scarier. They never took their eyes off each other as passion built and when they came this time, it wasn't with a scream
but a sigh. And when Spike lowered his body to rest on Buffy's, she held him closely to her as if afraid that he'd disappear.
Lifting his head from the crook of her neck, he said, "Buffy..."
Buffy placed a finger on his lips. "Shhhh,
please, Spike, don't say anything. Not yet."
"We're going to need to talk about this, pet."
Buffy shook her
head, a half-smile on her lips. "You are the talkiest man I've ever met, Spike. Can't we just be in the moment for a little
bit longer?"
Her eyes widened slightly as she felt him harden within her once again.
"Oh, we can be in the
moment for hours yet, luv," he growled as he again claimed her lips and moved within her.
This time, instead of wrapping
her arms and legs around him, Buffy twisted until Spike was on his back and Buffy was straddled over him. Leaning forward,
she placed her hands on either side of his chest and began to move in a slow sensuous manner, her face just inches above his.
Spike marveled at the look of utter pleasure she had on her face as she labored over him. It was his turn to hold her closely
when she collapsed on top of him after bringing them both to yet another climax. He'd never known such contentment.
Spike
hadn't cared much about the weather since being turned. Hot or cold, dry or wet, it really mattered little to him. But after
tonight, after what the rain had given him, he knew he'd wish it would rain every night.
The End
|
