CHAPTER 16 - NEVER SO SWEET
"Love you, love you so much!" Spike said, between kisses.
"Spike," she sighed, through ragged breaths. Her body responded to his with a memory of its own. Every nerve ending, every muscle, every hair, every orifice had its own memories, had their own desires to be touched, tasted, licked; to be loved by this man. Spike, who was at the moment, physically beneath her, but not in spirit, not in his capacity to be good, to love and be loved. His capacity for those things, she realized was limitless.
Buffy had started this on top of Spike, with him beneath her, but she was determined that it wouldn't end up that way, not tonight. She stopped kissing him long enough to look in his eyes; eyes filled with wonder. Before, when he'd looked at her like that it just had made her uncomfortable to know that she had so much power over him. Power that she'd abused. But not anymore. Her eyes, she hoped, reflected back the same wonder that his showed. Wonder that finally, she'd found her heart, and her heart was Spike.
Around to the front of her pajamas, he brought his almost shaking hands, to undo the buttons and free her from the top. Discarded, his hands reached up to tentatively cup each her of her breasts, his thumbs gently kneading her nipples. She moaned in pleasure, closing her eyes as she felt herself grow weak with pure desire.
He pulled her down; his head nestled between her breasts as she straddled him, moving up and down against him, her silky pajama bottoms the only thing between them.
Looking into her eyes, he glanced down at the necklace that rested on his chin. He put his hand underneath the chain to lift it up and look at it. As he glanced back at her, Buffy put her hand in his hand and squeezed hard, feeling the imprint of the necklace between both of their hands. Her mouth sought out his, as his hands went around her.
Buffy gasped, as Spike rolled them over, so that she was now on the bottom, his full weight on her, his desire, pressing almost painfully between her legs.
"Buffy," he whispered as he kissed her neck, her ear, her collarbone, then made his way down to her breasts.
As each new, yet old, familiar sensation coursed through her body, her back arched in anticipation. She could no more have stopped the movement of her body than could a mother in the throes of giving birth; autonomic nervous system, fully engaged.
Spike kissing her breasts, now shifted his body a little, starting to kiss her stomach, her belly button. His mouth rested on the skin just above the waistband of her pajama bottoms as his hand slipped down the front of them.
He felt like his hand might catch on fire, from the heat that Buffy was giving off, "God, you're so hot, so wet, so hot," he murmured, as he brought his head down over the front of her bottoms, as his fingers found out just how hot she was.
"Wait! Stop!" she said suddenly, almost out of her mind with desire by now.
Spike froze, as if he'd been hit with a two-by-four. He was immediately taken back to the awful night in the bathroom when he'd tried to rape her. He felt the room spinning, as he forgot where he was. All he knew, was that he'd done something awful again, monster, not a man, soul or not...
He bolted upright, scaring Buffy. She looked at him scared, which only made his reaction worse.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, starting to shake and mumble about, 'not hurting the girl,' until she realized just what she had done to him that moment before.
"Spike. Spike!" she said, trying to get his attention.
Spike looked at her, laying there almost totally naked, while his brain tried to remember what had happened causing her to yell out to him. What besides the fact that he was hurting her again, trying to make her do something she didn't want again...
Buffy got up on her knees and put her arms around him, "Spike," she said softly, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, or to make you feel that you were doing something wrong or hurting me," she said to him.
Spike looked at her, her little naked breasts pressed against his chest, eyes looking with love into his.
Slowly he regained his composure, his grip on the present, not the past, as he shuddered slightly, "What it, luv? What was wrong? I thought you were enjoying the way I was...."
"Oh my God, Spike, I was, I was!" she said, her eyes tearing up, thinking what she'd put him through.
"I just, I just..."
"What, Buffy?"
"I just..." she reached down and softly touched his cock, "I just want to feel you inside me, Spike. That's all, I just want you inside me for tonight," Buffy said, looking him in the eyes.
Could there have been any more perfect words spoken in this world? To him? Ever?
"Ahhh, Buffy," he said, kissing her, "luv, Buffy!"
He gently laid her down, as he got on top of her, his hand pulled off her bottoms.
Her hand still holding him, she led him homeward.
And with a small moan, he was in. He closed his eyes, as her heat enveloped him, burned him, consumed him, made him want to weep.
Buffy cried out in pleasure, her hips rising to meet his thrusts, her body seeking out more and more, the pleasure of him, filling her up, making her whole. She didn't want to be on top anymore, not in the metaphorical sense, or even the physical. Not tonight. Tonight was about letting herself be possessed, be loved, be claimed.
Her mouth sought his out and Spike slowed down his thrusts, so as to kiss her good and proper. He couldn't believe this was the same girl that had so ravenously fucked him last year.
It had never been this sweet. Never had been really sweet at all, she'd never allowed it. Never let him love her, be tender with her, touch her sweetly; touch her face, her hair. She'd fucked him like she fought him; rough and to the point.
Only the one time that she'd allowed him to handcuff her, had he been free to shower her with his 'unwanted' affections.
Buffy felt like it was the first time. And in a way, it was. She was almost overwhelmed by this kind of lovemaking; the kind where Spike is looking into her eyes like she's God's gift and she almost believes that maybe she is, at that. She'd never felt more beautiful or desired than she did at this moment. Never.
She put her arms around his neck, "I love you, Spike," she whispered, hoping he knew that she did, hoping that he knew that he'd done enough already to win her, to atone, to be worthy of her. Worthy, what a joke! She'd been the one who hadn't always been worthy.
Yet, still, he had loved her. Through thick and thin, good, bad, terrible, and worse, still.
"Love you ," she said, her lips coming up from his neck, to find his lips again. Soft lips of Spike. Spike lips.
Hands in her hair, on her face, homeward bound, "God I love you , Buffy!" Spike said, kissing her passionately, his tongue exploring her tasty, sweet mouth; candy, sweet like candy. Giving her candy to me.
Spike resumed his thrusts and they each moaned and groaned as their mutual passions crested like the ocean tides.
"Buffy, do you want me to help you along? Help you come?" he asked, as he put his hand down between them.
"I, it, matter, don't, care, I, oh, Spike, god, oh, no just you, only you in me," Buffy tried to explain.
Spike removed his hand and thrust into her again and again. Deeper and deeper, until she could feel see lights sparking behind her eyelids, feel the rise and fall of desire so great it swept her like the ocean tide, until she felt the the sudden flush of warmth, and the even greater hardness, that was him; letting her know, that he too had arrived on the opposite shore.
He lay there on top her and she wished it could be that way forever. Him inside her, completing her, making her whole, and all the other corny cliches she'd only read, but never experienced. Don't move, don't go away. Ever. Stay. In me, on me, near me. Always. Arms wrapped tightly around him. Not alone, not anymore. No more self-induced abstinence from love for her. No more pining for her by him. No more alone, no more lonely.
Spike stirred, raising his head to look at her, "You okay, luv?"
"Uh-hmm," she said, pulling him back down.
He laughed, "Have to move sometime, pet."
"No, never," she said, "have to stay this way."
because I'm not ready for you to not be here
He raised up his head to kiss her, "Love you."
"Love, you too, Spike."
"Maybe this would be better, won't be crushing you," he said, pulling her over on top of him, before she could protest.
"Ummmm, this good, too," she said sleepily.
He reached down and pulled the covers up over her, wrapping them both up in warmth and satiety.
END OF CHAPTER 16
"Love you, love you so much!" Spike said, between kisses.
"Spike," she sighed, through ragged breaths. Her body responded to his with a memory of its own. Every nerve ending, every muscle, every hair, every orifice had its own memories, had their own desires to be touched, tasted, licked; to be loved by this man. Spike, who was at the moment, physically beneath her, but not in spirit, not in his capacity to be good, to love and be loved. His capacity for those things, she realized was limitless.
Buffy had started this on top of Spike, with him beneath her, but she was determined that it wouldn't end up that way, not tonight. She stopped kissing him long enough to look in his eyes; eyes filled with wonder. Before, when he'd looked at her like that it just had made her uncomfortable to know that she had so much power over him. Power that she'd abused. But not anymore. Her eyes, she hoped, reflected back the same wonder that his showed. Wonder that finally, she'd found her heart, and her heart was Spike.
Around to the front of her pajamas, he brought his almost shaking hands, to undo the buttons and free her from the top. Discarded, his hands reached up to tentatively cup each her of her breasts, his thumbs gently kneading her nipples. She moaned in pleasure, closing her eyes as she felt herself grow weak with pure desire.
He pulled her down; his head nestled between her breasts as she straddled him, moving up and down against him, her silky pajama bottoms the only thing between them.
Looking into her eyes, he glanced down at the necklace that rested on his chin. He put his hand underneath the chain to lift it up and look at it. As he glanced back at her, Buffy put her hand in his hand and squeezed hard, feeling the imprint of the necklace between both of their hands. Her mouth sought out his, as his hands went around her.
Buffy gasped, as Spike rolled them over, so that she was now on the bottom, his full weight on her, his desire, pressing almost painfully between her legs.
"Buffy," he whispered as he kissed her neck, her ear, her collarbone, then made his way down to her breasts.
As each new, yet old, familiar sensation coursed through her body, her back arched in anticipation. She could no more have stopped the movement of her body than could a mother in the throes of giving birth; autonomic nervous system, fully engaged.
Spike kissing her breasts, now shifted his body a little, starting to kiss her stomach, her belly button. His mouth rested on the skin just above the waistband of her pajama bottoms as his hand slipped down the front of them.
He felt like his hand might catch on fire, from the heat that Buffy was giving off, "God, you're so hot, so wet, so hot," he murmured, as he brought his head down over the front of her bottoms, as his fingers found out just how hot she was.
"Wait! Stop!" she said suddenly, almost out of her mind with desire by now.
Spike froze, as if he'd been hit with a two-by-four. He was immediately taken back to the awful night in the bathroom when he'd tried to rape her. He felt the room spinning, as he forgot where he was. All he knew, was that he'd done something awful again, monster, not a man, soul or not...
He bolted upright, scaring Buffy. She looked at him scared, which only made his reaction worse.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, starting to shake and mumble about, 'not hurting the girl,' until she realized just what she had done to him that moment before.
"Spike. Spike!" she said, trying to get his attention.
Spike looked at her, laying there almost totally naked, while his brain tried to remember what had happened causing her to yell out to him. What besides the fact that he was hurting her again, trying to make her do something she didn't want again...
Buffy got up on her knees and put her arms around him, "Spike," she said softly, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, or to make you feel that you were doing something wrong or hurting me," she said to him.
Spike looked at her, her little naked breasts pressed against his chest, eyes looking with love into his.
Slowly he regained his composure, his grip on the present, not the past, as he shuddered slightly, "What it, luv? What was wrong? I thought you were enjoying the way I was...."
"Oh my God, Spike, I was, I was!" she said, her eyes tearing up, thinking what she'd put him through.
"I just, I just..."
"What, Buffy?"
"I just..." she reached down and softly touched his cock, "I just want to feel you inside me, Spike. That's all, I just want you inside me for tonight," Buffy said, looking him in the eyes.
Could there have been any more perfect words spoken in this world? To him? Ever?
"Ahhh, Buffy," he said, kissing her, "luv, Buffy!"
He gently laid her down, as he got on top of her, his hand pulled off her bottoms.
Her hand still holding him, she led him homeward.
And with a small moan, he was in. He closed his eyes, as her heat enveloped him, burned him, consumed him, made him want to weep.
Buffy cried out in pleasure, her hips rising to meet his thrusts, her body seeking out more and more, the pleasure of him, filling her up, making her whole. She didn't want to be on top anymore, not in the metaphorical sense, or even the physical. Not tonight. Tonight was about letting herself be possessed, be loved, be claimed.
Her mouth sought his out and Spike slowed down his thrusts, so as to kiss her good and proper. He couldn't believe this was the same girl that had so ravenously fucked him last year.
It had never been this sweet. Never had been really sweet at all, she'd never allowed it. Never let him love her, be tender with her, touch her sweetly; touch her face, her hair. She'd fucked him like she fought him; rough and to the point.
Only the one time that she'd allowed him to handcuff her, had he been free to shower her with his 'unwanted' affections.
Buffy felt like it was the first time. And in a way, it was. She was almost overwhelmed by this kind of lovemaking; the kind where Spike is looking into her eyes like she's God's gift and she almost believes that maybe she is, at that. She'd never felt more beautiful or desired than she did at this moment. Never.
She put her arms around his neck, "I love you, Spike," she whispered, hoping he knew that she did, hoping that he knew that he'd done enough already to win her, to atone, to be worthy of her. Worthy, what a joke! She'd been the one who hadn't always been worthy.
Yet, still, he had loved her. Through thick and thin, good, bad, terrible, and worse, still.
"Love you ," she said, her lips coming up from his neck, to find his lips again. Soft lips of Spike. Spike lips.
Hands in her hair, on her face, homeward bound, "God I love you , Buffy!" Spike said, kissing her passionately, his tongue exploring her tasty, sweet mouth; candy, sweet like candy. Giving her candy to me.
Spike resumed his thrusts and they each moaned and groaned as their mutual passions crested like the ocean tides.
"Buffy, do you want me to help you along? Help you come?" he asked, as he put his hand down between them.
"I, it, matter, don't, care, I, oh, Spike, god, oh, no just you, only you in me," Buffy tried to explain.
Spike removed his hand and thrust into her again and again. Deeper and deeper, until she could feel see lights sparking behind her eyelids, feel the rise and fall of desire so great it swept her like the ocean tide, until she felt the the sudden flush of warmth, and the even greater hardness, that was him; letting her know, that he too had arrived on the opposite shore.
He lay there on top her and she wished it could be that way forever. Him inside her, completing her, making her whole, and all the other corny cliches she'd only read, but never experienced. Don't move, don't go away. Ever. Stay. In me, on me, near me. Always. Arms wrapped tightly around him. Not alone, not anymore. No more self-induced abstinence from love for her. No more pining for her by him. No more alone, no more lonely.
Spike stirred, raising his head to look at her, "You okay, luv?"
"Uh-hmm," she said, pulling him back down.
He laughed, "Have to move sometime, pet."
"No, never," she said, "have to stay this way."
because I'm not ready for you to not be here
He raised up his head to kiss her, "Love you."
"Love, you too, Spike."
"Maybe this would be better, won't be crushing you," he said, pulling her over on top of him, before she could protest.
"Ummmm, this good, too," she said sleepily.
He reached down and pulled the covers up over her, wrapping them both up in warmth and satiety.
END OF CHAPTER 16