FORBIDDEN
:: Part One - Under Lock and Key ::
Spike sat outside the locked door. Not long before hand he had returned to his soon-to-be ex-home to pick up the remainder of his stuff when he'd heard a noise inside his bedroom. Being a 'cop' he'd naturally armed himself with weapons designed to inflict the most damage; two satsumas, a cucumber and his handcuffs. When he'd opened the door, however, he'd discovered an all too confusing problem.
"Let me out, you ass-hole!" Shouted the voice from inside the room. He stood up and cautiously opened the door. A stream of items that had been in a box on his bed were aimed at him through the door. He slammed it quickly shut. "Hey! Let me out!"
"Not till you tell me what you were doing in my bedroom, love." He ran his fingers through his hair, tiredly.
She scowled at him through the glass. "Looking through your underwear drawer, okay? Now let me go! This is illegal!" He'd handcuffed her to the radiator.
"Whereas breaking and entering…"
"Fuck!" She squealed, pulling against the chain. "Just let me go, you freak!"
He opened the door, cautiously, and looked at her. "Didn't anyone ever tell you there are other words in the English language than fuck, freak and asshole."
"Oh, just go back to England, you--"
"I was trying to before you blood-well broke into my house!" He walked into the room and eyed her out of the corner of his eye, not sure whether or not he should look her in the eye and inflame her further.
She moved back, away from him, happy that a bed separated them. Wait! Oh no…a bed! "What are you going to do to me?" She asked, staring at the cucumber in his hand.
"I-I don't know." He answered shaking his head. He moved towards her and she flinched backwards, slamming herself noisily against the radiator. He froze and scowled at her.
"Don't rape me!" She shouted, her voice more feeble than it had been in her head.
"Oh please, like I'd want to!" He frowned, rolling his eyes.
Her anger grew. Yeah, she knew she wasn't the hottest person in the world, but he wasn't that great either! Well, he was taller than she thought, and the t-shirt he was wearing stretched tight across his muscular chest, revealing the strong, well defined… No! No, Buffy! No! He was a bad, bad man who just chained you to his bedroom radiator.
She moved her eyes back to his. He was glaring at her. "It's called man – a strange species, I know." He growled, angrily. Her cheeks were redder than before, flushed with her own bad, bad thoughts. She cleared her throat and tried to keep her eyes away from his.
"Let me go!" She screeched back, but her voice was husky, now, and laden with intent. He furrowed his brow.
"What have you seen?" He asked, sidestepping his body's own curiosities. He didn't seem to want to look at her face. "How long were you here?"
"I haven't seen anything! I was here for literally a second before you arrived, I swear!" She pleaded; after all, he did still have that cucumber…and she'd heard stories.
"How did you get in?"
"Window, there – see, I didn't break it. It was unlocked!" She nervously tugged against the metal. "I won't tell anyone anything, I swear! Just, don't kill or rape me…please?"
He turned to look at her. Her eyes showed her youth, but her body was far too old for her. She looked lost. She shivered under his eyes and he returned his gaze to her face. "I'm not a rapist or a murderer," he growled, resenting the implication. Maybe he could let her go, maybe she hadn't seen anything.
"No, you're just a man who chains girls in your bedroom!" She retorted, angrily.
She was funny… But, he had no time for humour.
He moved towards her and she flinched away from him again. He took a step back and shook his head, his hands resting on his hips.
"Listen, I'm not going to rape you and I'm not going to bloody kill you, alright? But unless you want to reach your sixth birthday not chained to my radiator, you're going to have to stop doing that."
She scowled at him. "Funny." She said sarcastically. "Very funny. And I'm nineteen, you asshole!"
"Like it matters." He growled back, dropping the cucumber on the bed and stepping round it towards her. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a key. "Anyone ever tell you you have an inflated picture of yourself?"
"Oh pur-lease!" She scoffed, leaning back to give him room to untie her. "Ten minutes ago you were ready to jump me!" He was so close, she could smell his aftershave mingled with smoke. It was a heady combination.
"Wow," he said, in mock astonishment, "you really are demented." One of her wrists was freed, and he bent to unlock the other. "Honestly, you American girls! Think everyone's trying to get into your knickers!"
"Not everyone – just you." She retorted.
"Pffffft!" He wafted his hand in her face as he unlocked the other wrist. He stood up. "Inflated idea of yourself." He added after letting his eyes flick slowly up her body.
She put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "Oh yeah? You want this." She nodded to herself.
"Not really, princess." He leaned forwards reaching an arm behind her, all the time his eyes locked with hers. His chest brushed her breasts along the way as he leant into her. She dropped her arms. She felt intoxicated, weak, numb. His mouth was so close. Any minute now he was going to… to…
He pulled back and clicked his head to one side, cocking a eyebrow. She was watching him in the most peculiar way. She ran her tongue over her lips.
"Princess?" He asked, his breath low and warm against her face. There was a roughness, an edge to his voice, that seemed to invade her senses, making her sleepy and at the same time incredibly… "Princess?" He asked again.
She blinked. She realised that she had been watching his lips, waiting for him to move, but he hadn't. She also noticed that she had leant towards him, her body moving to be closer to his. She stood up straight, and brushed the backs of her fingers over her mouth in an attempt to steady herself.
"Princess?"
"What?" She spat out, huskily. Her whole body seemed softer. "What?"
He raised his eyebrows higher. "I was shutting the window." He said. She blinked, embarrassment welling up inside her.
"Yeah…" she said, "and?"
"Look at yourself." He said, stepping out of the way so that she could see herself in the long mirror resting near the built-in cupboards at one end of the room. Her heart jolted.
She was bright red and flushed, her pupils had dilated, her lips had swollen and she finally had an idea as to why her chest felt so tight; the firm mounds of her nipples where pressing the soft cotton of her top. She immediately folded her arms across herself. "I-It's cold in here." She argued.
"Would've gone with 'been chained to a radiator', but hey, it's your call." He smiled to himself and ruffled up his hair with his fingers, turning his back on her to walk away.
"You are unbelievable!" She laughed, hoping she came across as disbelieving and not as horny.
"Apparently so if I managed to get into your cotton undies!" He laughed bent down to pick one of the books she'd thrown at him off the floor.
"There were so many things wrong with that sentence, mister!" She scoffed, moving to stand next to him and putting her hands on her hips, trying to gain control of the situation…well, just save face.
"Oh yeah?" He asked, tapping her foot to move as he picked up another book underneath it.
"Yeah. Like for starters, I'm not wearing cotton panties!" She hated herself as soon as she'd said it… Why did she have to have gone for that one first? Why couldn't she just have tried to keep the conversation the other side of sexual?
He slowly stood up, taking his time to draw in every part of her body along the way. When he reached her face he was still smiling, though now it was laced with something else…desire!
"You're not?" He breathed, cocking on eyebrow.
She tried to look anywhere other than his face. But that wasn't helping. "N-No."
"Hmmn," he purred, not moving at all, "you shouldn't be here." He said after a long deliberation. "Now, run along goldilocks before the big bad wolf finds you." She wanted to correct him, but he might take that to mean that he'd been right about her. Instead she stood there, watching him, waiting for his move.
He leaned forwards and she felt her eyelids flutter slightly.
"You should go. Captor says go." He pulled back and shook his head before taking a deep breath and pulling his belt off.
"Oh my god!" She said, all too quickly to seem in control.
He turned and looked at her. "Listen, pet, you need to get out of here before I call a bobby to take you away, and I need to get changed and have a shower then get going before morning. Preferably tonight."
She made no sign to move, but simply stood there, watching him, eyes wide.
"Go, little girl, or you'll see stuff they never taught you in bio."
That got through to her. She blinked and cleared her throat, and stopped rocking slightly on the spot. "Promise you won't report me."
"Yeah." He replied, pulling his shirt off. She swallowed.
"A-And, um, you won't kill me." She said, a little dazed at the muscles that had only been hinted at through the t-shirt.
"No, I won't kill you." He sat down on the bed and pulled off one of his boots, letting it fall with a thud to the ground.
She brushed a stray piece of hair back from her face and watched him as he struggled with the other boot. She seemed transfixed to the spot. "Y-You won't--"
"No, I won't!" He growled irritably before finally pulling the boot off and throwing it down on the ground. He stood up and looked at her. "But I will do something if you don't leave now!" He angered.
She let her eyes tumble down his body and back to his face. "Whoa!" She let out, involuntarily.
He let out a long breath and pulled off both his socks. "Look, pet," he said standing up, "next move's my jeans, and I'm not in the habit of wearing layers."
He couldn't help smiling at the long breath she let out and the way her eyes seemed to widen as she stared at his hips in anticipation.
"Seriously, mum and dad'll be getting worried." Her eyes snapped up.
"I don't have a mom and dad. Not for over a year now." He watched her, anxious of any tears she might shed. He wasn't a cruel man, but if he didn't get out of town by the morning, scenes might arise unpleasant. She blinked and looked up. "I'm on the run." She said, trying to look dangerous. She looked cute and innocent.
"Welcome to the club." He looped his fingers under his waistband and jiggled it. "Are you going?"
She nodded and stepped passed him out into the hallway, disappearing. He waited a moment then removed the last piece of clothing lying between him and nakedness. He looked at his watch. If he showered quickly he might be able to make it out within two hours.
He picked up a towel off the bed and turned.
"I forgot to give you back your handcuffs." She said, walking back into the room. She stopped suddenly and looked down at him, as he moved the towel as fast as he could.
"Bloody hell, woman!" He cried, shocked.
She cleared her throat. "Anyway," she said, moving forwards and handing the handcuffs to him, "I have an idea." He snatched them out of her hands and threw them onto the floor.
She moved and sat down on the bed, beckoning him to do the same. Cautiously, he did.
"Let me come with you." She said.
"No." He growled, reaching out one hand to pat her on the back and shoo her out, but she didn't move, and he didn't have the strength to force her to without losing his towel.
"Why not?"
"Are you forgetting that you were begging me not to kill you about ten bloody minutes ago?"
"No."
He shook his head. "No!" He insisted. "You stay here with your friends and--"
"Stop treating me like a kid, I'm nineteen!" She glared.
"Stop acting like a kid, and I'm thirty-four, and I say no!"
"Stop being such a dick!"
"I thought I was an asshole?"
"You are." She folded her arms under her breasts and stared at him.
There was a long pause.
"Are you going to say anything else, or can I go and have my shower?"
"I want to come." She said, she knew she sounded childish.
He cocked his head to one side and purveyed her. "What do you want me to do?"
Innuendo?
"I want you to--"
"I'll bet you want me to help you come." He said, grinning.
"You're perverted."
"And you're sat out of choice next to a man in a towel who moments ago had you chained in his bedroom."
He had a fair point.
"Alright," she said, "let me crash here tonight – you won't even be here." She let out a breath and looked at him. "Please." She added.
"How do you know you can trust me not to jump you?"
She stared at him for a while before responding. "Because I just do, okay?" He watched her. "Let me just have a shower, I'll stay in one of the guest rooms, and I'll be gone when you are in the morning."
Spike hated the face that he had a heart sometimes. Because of that bloody heart, there was someone showering about ten feet away from him, and he was naked in bed. He could have pretended to sleep, but there was no point. What did he have to hide anyway?
Who was this Buffy anyway? He didn't even think that that was a real name. Who'd call their kid Buffy? Mind you, who'd call their kid Spike?
He read the same line in his book again.
The wind howled through the trees as he tried to wash the blood off his hands.
Stupid book. Stupid line.
Why did women have to cry around him? Why did he have to care?
Buffy'd cried and he'd cheered her up and said she could stay. Why was he such a pushover? No doubt it was all an act. She probably hadn't even really been crying.
He heard the water turn off.
Shit!
The wind howled through the trees as he tried to wash the blood off his hands.
The wind howled through the trees as he tried to wash the blood off his hands.
The wind howled through the trees as he tried to wash the blood off his hands.
Come on! The bloody wind was howling!
Buffy padded into his room with a smile on her face. Her dripping hair hung straight, the water dropping onto the huge towel he'd leant her. God, when she smiled she looked so… No! Bad thoughts!
He looked down at his book and tried to be interested in what he read.
The wind howled through the trees as he tried to wash the blood off his hands.
Why was she still in the room?
"You don't look thirty-four." She said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to him.
He looked up at her. "Is that a compliment, or are you likening me to your high school teacher?"
"It's a compliment, silly!" She laughed, patting him playfully on his leg through the blanket. "Whatcha reading?"
"Book." He answered, simply, looking at its pages. "Just like a high school teacher, so off to bed or I'll fail you."
"Oooh, I'm scared!" She mocked, giggling. She had a cute giggle in the dim light of the bedroom. In fact, she had a cute—
"You should go to sleep. You won't be able to crash here once I'm gone, pet."
"Move over." She said, kneeling up. He frowned at her, but did as she'd asked, shifting to the other side of the double bed. "Don't look!" She called, pulling off the towel and diving under the covers. She pulled them about her. "Okay, you can look now."
He shifted as far away from her as he could.
He was naked.
She was naked.
They were together in a bed.
"W-What are you doing?" He stuttered.
"Going to sleep." She answered, pulling the sheets over her, further and lying down, turning on her side away from him.
He resisted the urge to look under the cover at the smooth contours of her skin. "Buffy," he growled in a low whisper. "I'm naked, you know that right. And I'm a man."
She rolled over to face him and he covered his eyes with his hand to stop himself from looking. "Are you alright, Spike?" She asked, putting a hand on his bare chest. The contact sizzled, but she didn't withdraw it. Instead, she let it drift lower and to one side beneath the covers.
"Buffy, if you don't stop, I won't be able to." He uncovered his eyes and saw her firm, high breasts still glistening from the water of the shower. "Buffy--" He nearly spent himself then as her hand enclosed his erection. She watched his eyes as it pulsed in her hand. Slowly she began to trace its length up and down, and up, and down with her fingers, squeezing it in all the right places.
"You're big." She grinned. "I like that."
"Don't--"
"Shhh!" She whispered, biting onto her lip and leaning over him, guiding him into her, all within a matter of seconds. "Unh!" She moaned, rolling her head at the size of him, feeling him inside.
His fingertips sunk into her hips, pulling her further down, and him further inside. God he hated himself, what was he doing? "Buffy, don't do this--"
"What?" She asked, flashing her eyes at him, innocently. "This?" She ground down against him, holding onto his shoulders, and then began rising and falling as fast and a strong as she could, pushing herself up with her legs straddled either side of him. "Unh, unh, unh!" She cried.
He watched her lick her lips and roll her head back, and felt her slick, and warm, and tight around her. Christ! "We can't--"
"We can. Shhh! Stop thinking!" She whispered before leaning forwards and guiding his mouth to her breast. "Make me come, Spike! Make me come!" He reached one hand away from her ass and pulled her down tightly to his mouth, biting on her nipple, sucking on her breast. "Unh, unh!" She cried, each pumping creating more of her slippery wetness between them, the friction rising. "Mnahh! Unh! Unh! Mmmnaaaaaaaaaah!"
"Oh god, Buffy! Christ!"
She tensed all around him, coming hard onto him. But still she kept going. She spasmed again as he reached a hand forwards and rubbed at her clit. Then again, and again!
He'd been good for too long.
Spike pushed her back and rolled her over so that he was on top. She tightened her legs around his waist, never breaking the contact between them.
"Unh, unh, unh!" Buffy reached up and grabbed onto the headboard with her hands as he drove into her.
"So…fucking…tight!" He groaned between moans. "So…fucking…wet!" He pounded into her, harder, and harder, and harder. His firm, strong body rubbing in her just the right places, at just the right angles.
"Unh, unh, unh, oh Spike!" She cried out, breathlessly as the friction between them grew and sparked. Her hands and the headboard were slamming hard against the wall, but it was worth it…
"Oh, Buffy!"
"I'm gonna…unh! I'm gonna…unh!"
"Fuck!"
"Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike!" She tensed all around him. It was harder than the times before, strangling him, making him blast into oblivion with her.
Their sweat-glistened bodies were still for a moment, their heaving chests rising and falling with each uneven breath they took.
Then Spike moved.
He forced himself up on his arms either side of her and stared into her eyes. She was so beautiful. She reached a hand up and pressed it to his cheek. He looked down at her lips and leant down to them, pressing his softly, tenderly against hers.
He pulled out of her and rested himself softly at her side, an arm looped behind head. Then they watched each other. Eyes matched, no reason to turn away.
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