CHAPTER 23 - HOT SPRINGS
"Where are we going?" Buffy asked Spike as they had taken a new trail.
"You'll see, be there in just a bit, pet," Spike said.
Buffy still was amazed everytime she looked at Spike, here with her, walking in the daylight; albeit, a very densely covered daylight.
Still...there, walking in the daylight, having a house of his own just made him seem more like a man than she ever could have imagined him seeming like to her. A normal man. And wasn't that what he had always been, at least a part of him, anyway?
What had he said to her? That she always, "Liked a little monster in her man"? She smiled, yeah, guess she did, but she also liked to see the man that he was, that he had been meant to be, if only...
"We're here," Spike said, interrupting her thoughts.
"Where?"
"Down there," he said, "it's a cave.
"Is this where you used to stay?" she asked him.
"Yep, this is it. Come on, something I want to show you," he said, reaching for her hand as they started to climb down through the brush. Once they got there, he stopped, removed some brush and to moved a heavy boulder from the front of the cave entrance.
Spike got a flashlight out of his pocket, "Might need this, it's a bit dark, at first," he said.
Spike entered first, then helped Buffy over the ledge into the cave.
"Afraid we'll have to crawl for about 50 feet, then we can walk the rest of the way."
"Okay," Buffy said, getting down on her knees.
The crawl wasn't too difficult. No ups or downs, just pretty straightforward, although pretty narrow.
Finally they came to where the tunnel-like space they had crawled through opened up into a larger room.
Buffy stood up. It almost looked like his old crypt had, except not lived in and not cozy. Still, it reminded her of Spike's type of crypt decor, in the barest sense of the word.
Spike looked around, trying to remember the last time he'd been here. It had been on his way back from Africa. He just couldn't handle being at the house, so he'd mostly spent his days in here; sitting, staring, trying to find his way back to some sort of reality in his mind that wasn't plagued by visions, of images, of guilt and remorse.
He sighed.
"What's the matter, Spike?" Buffy asked, seeing that this place was having some sort of effect on him.
"It's nothing luv, only..."
"Only what, Spike?"
"Just...just, I spent some time here; before coming back to Sunnydale, after..."
"After you got your soul?" she asked.
He nodded.
She took his hand and squeezed it, then turned to face him.
"Thank you, Spike," she said.
"For what, Buffy?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.
"For getting your soul. For me. Fighting for it, in order to become a better man. I never told you before...how much I...how, that....it," she couldn't finish what she was trying to say, that it was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done.
"You don't have to do this Buffy, it's alright. It needed to be done, so I did it; that's all. No use in belaboring it all over again luv," he said, pulling her in close. "We're here, together for now, that's what counts, right?"
She nodded, afraid to speak.
Spike pulled away, "Wait right here, I'll be right back," he said, and hurried down a passageway off to the left of the room.
She stood there in the dark, except for the flashlight and wondered what he was up to.
She heard his footsteps as he came back into view of her flashlight.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Wanted to make sure my surprise was ready," he said, coming up to her and taking her hand.
"What is it, Spike?"
He laughed, "Still don't trust me one hundred percent, huh, Slayer?"
She turned to look at him, "I trust you, Spike, I just don't particularly like surprises," she said, trying to cover up the doubts she still had from time to time.
"I understand, really I do. If I were you, I'd never trust me completely either, but I'm asking you to right now. Now, close your eyes, take my hand, and let me show you what I really brought you here for," Spike ordered.
She looked at him seriously one more time, then shrugged, closed her eyes, and squeezed his hand, "Okay, Spike, you win, surprise away!"
She felt herself being led along a fairly long passageway; at least 150 yards or so. As she walked, she could hear water, and the temperature around her seemed to be getting warmer, until it seemed to be downright balmy by the time they stopped.
"Open your eyes," Spike told her.
She did. Buffy stood inside of a much smaller room than the one they'd been in before. It was light, too, even without a flashlight. The light came from four flute holes, high above them. The holes were almost in a square pattern, about 15 feet from each other.
And in the middle of the points of light was the thing that Spike had brought her to see, and the thing causing the temperature in the room to be about 90 degrees; a natural hot spring, about 15 feet round. And around one side of the hot spring was sand, two beach chairs/loungers, and a small table with an umbrella, complete with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.
"What the...?"
Spike smiled, "Like it?" he asked her.
She nodded, dumbfounded.
"Spike!" Buffy said, "this is amazing! I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams just what you wanted to show me. Especially here; a natural spring, a Hot Springs at that, in a cave, it's..."
"Quite unusual," he finished for her, smiling as he enjoyed her pleasure at seeing it finally. "And the sand, the rest of it...?"
"Clem did it for me," Spike answered, "figured I couldn't give you a true day at the beach, but this would be the next best thing."
She walked over and bent over the pool, tentatively sticking her hand in, "It's wonderful," she said.
He came over to her as she stood up, "Would you like to try it out?" he asked.
"I'd love to, but I don't think I can," she said.
"Why not?" he asked, a look of concern crossing his face.
"Don't have anything to dry off with," she said, rather sheepishly.
"Yeah, you do," Spike said, smiling and taking off the backpack, he pulled out some big fluffy towels he'd gotten from the house.
"You think of everything, Mr. William Worthington," she said, in a falsetto southern accent.
Spike grinned, "Didn't think I'd let you go to the 'beach' without a towel, now did you?"
"Well, no use wasting a perfectly good Hot Springs, is there?" Buffy said, starting to take off her boots.
"No use," Spike said, and started doing the same.
A couple of minutes later she stood at the pools edge, then crouched down, "How deep is it?" she asked.
"About 4 feet, if I remember right," Spike said, coming over to her side, breathing her in her scent.
"Give me your hand, as you ease yourself in, Buffy," Spike said.
"Wait," she said, and took off the necklace, placing it on top of her blouse.
"Okay," she agreed, holding his hands above her head, as she slid, legs first into the steaming water.
"Oh my God, this feels so wonderful!" she said, once she was all the way in.
Spike sat down on the edge, then pushed off the sides with his hand and joined her in the water.
Buffy closed her eyes and let herself fall back into the water, getting her hair wet, too. She closed her eyes and floated that way for a couple of minutes, her arms above her head, holding loosely onto the sides.
Spike looked at her; naked breasts, tiny waist, light brown v-shaped curls just breaking through the water above them for a peek-a-boo every once in a while, settling back down in ringlets under the water.
She's so lovely, he thought. If I could die now, from the sight of her, I'll not need any more heaven than this.
He decided to join her and lay back to float, also. He wasn't very good at floating and he kept having to arch his back every couple of seconds, as his legs started going down.
Buffy opened her eyes and lifted her head up. She giggled at the sight of him struggling.
"Don't vampires float?" she asked him.
"Well, I don't know if THEY float, only know this one doesn't so well," he said rather indignantly.
Buffy put her feet back down and stood by him, "You can do it, Spike, you're just not doing it right," she said, and with that she put one hand underneath his back and one underneath his bottom.
"Straighten out your legs," she commanded, "now push your shoulders down a bit!"
Spike coughed, as his head went under, "Bloody hell!"
"Don't be such a baby!" she scolded him. "You want to learn or what?"
"I don't care if I do or I don't. Didn't have much use for it when I was human, haven't much needed it for the other 120 years plus since I've been a vampire, either," he snarked.
"Baby!" she giggled.
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
He started to get up.
"Not so fast, Mr. either you learn to float, or I'm going to let you sink!" Buffy said.
"Sink or swim, then is it, Slayer," Spike asked, eyeing her breasts as they were only about 6 inches away from his face.
"That's right, Spike! Sink or swim, or in this case, flail or float," she laughed, then realizing where his eyes were looking she had an idea.
She looked down at him. Ummmhmmm, just as she suspected.
"Spike! Floating is just a knack of knowing how to adjust your body, how to hold it in the water. Once you get it, it's like..." she was going to say riding a bike, but she wasn't sure he knew how to do that either, "sex," she said, thinking that was a better example. At least one he would readily relate to.
"Sex, hmmm?" he asked, all attention now on Buffy.
"Spike," Buffy said, removing her hand from under his bottom and placing it above him, palm outstretched, giggling, "okay, now try to touch my hand with it," she said, as she held her hand a mere couple of inches above his hardness, which was hard, but still under the water.
She still had one hand under his back, "Legs together, shoulders down, pelvis up!" she directed.
Spike was going to get this, if it was the last thing he did. He could feel the warmth of her hand, even through the hot water, there, waiting to touch him.
Spike concentrated, finally he felt his himself straighten out, and his manhood came up above the water and into Buffy's waiting hand.
He closed his eyes at the touch, and just as he did, he sank back down again.
"Bloody Hell!" he said, trying to right himself.
"It's okay, Spike. You gave it the old college try!" Buffy said.
Spike stood up and Buffy came over to where he was standing.
All of this 'watching' him was beginning to make her want him. Again.
It felt like there was so much time to make up for. And...so little time left.
She put her arms around him, burrowing her face into his neck, as she pressed her body against his hardness.
"Buffy," he said, pressing back into her, feeling her wet curls against him. He felt one of her legs go around him, as she continued to press against him.
His mouth sought hers out, his hands pushed her wet hair away from her face, "Wait," he whispered to her.
"Wait?" she asked, looking at him.
"I want to see you float again," he said.
"Okay," she said, smiling, as she took her leg back out from around him, and lay down on her back.
He looked at her floating there; Venus didn't have anything over her. He took his hands and put them very close, but not quite touching her. First her face. She closed her eyes, as she felt the droplets of water from his hands fall softly on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips; two hands barely caressing, not quite touching her.
She opened her eyes as he did the same down her neck, her chest, over her breasts. She felt the slightest touch on her nipples as his palms gently moved over them, making them pebble. He dipped his hands into the warm water and then released them slowly over her nipples, her breasts, down her stomach, all the way to right above where her need for him lay.
Again, he watched as the curls from between her legs made appearances in and out of the water. He could feel her desire as he put his hand above her. He could feel her body temperature, even through the ambient heat of the water. He felt the heat rise off her as he moved his hands above her, but beyond her stomach...his hands felt on fire and he hadn't even touched her yet.
She sighed from the sensuousness of it all.
One week of Human Sexuality in college, before she had to drop, in order to take care of slaying business, was enough for her to remember how it worked. Brain, touch, nerve endings, brain, pulsing down below. Setting up a sexual response in under a second.
She mused to herself that they ought to have had a separate course called, "Hot Sex with a Vampire Lover." No, make that, "Hot Sex with the Vampire, Spike!" Much better, but then again, she didn't want to share his secrets with anyone else.
She sighed again, feeling the strong pulse of her desire between her legs.
Spike moved his hands down over her thighs, down her legs, until he was at her feet.
He moved to stand at her feet, then gently spread them apart, causing her to quiver in anticipation, causing her to start to lose the natural balance. To compensate, she wrapped her legs lightly around his hips, as he put his hands on either sides of her legs and gently pulled her toward him, until her wide open legs were just barely touching him.
She moaned, trying to pull herself in closer to him.
He took his one hand off of her leg and put it between them. He rubbed her gently, causing her to tighten her legs around him, pull herself forward, trying to feel more than a gentle touch.
"No, slowly," he told her softly, "it'll be better, trust me."
His voice. God, did he know what he did to her with his voice alone? All those times last year, all those pretty, sensual, wonderful things he would say to her, all the while all she had for him was insults.
He took his hand away, and gently pulled her up. Her arms went around him, as she tried to wrap her legs around him, have him inside her.
"Buffy," he moaned in her ear, while gently disengaging from her legs, pulling her toward the side of the pool. He quickly reached the towels and put one near the edge of the pool, lay the backpack a few feet away with another towel over it, like a pillow.
He turned back to her, turning her so that she was right in front of the towel, Buffy," Spike said, his voice deep, sexy, full of love and want for her, "I want to know where you live again, I want to taste it," and with those words, he felt her quiver as she slumped against him, moaning; putting his hands on her waist he lifted her up and onto the towel. He felt her heartbeat pounding like a native drum; for him, as he put his head between her breasts, standing between her legs.
Her hands went up, to run her fingers through his curly hair, to caress his face. As she did, he turned his head up, as her mouth met his, her tongue feeling his tongue, his lips, his teeth.
"Lay back," he said, as he gently guided her back onto the towel and towel covered backpack.
She was trembling with desire and emotion.
As he let her down, he ran his hands over her breasts, lingering there for a couple of minutes, touching them like a blind man would, trying to get a permanent picture in his mind of their shape, their feel... He leaned up out of the water, kissing her stomach, as his hands held the sides of her hips. He gently pulled her bottom closer to the edge, as he sank down to his knees in the water, her legs over his shoulders, and his head in front of the only home he had loved the best; where she lived.
His thumbs gently played with the soft, wet ringlets, as he slowly moved apart the folds of her skin, like parting a flower, to see that her bud was red, ripe; quivering in almost unbearable expectation of that first touch of his mouth.
He closed his eyes as he inhaled her perfume...
Buffy was lost and found all in the same moment, as his warm mouth made its contact with her c**t. Hands in his hair she pulled him closer, closer; his tongue working its magic as he brought her nearer and nearer to the edge of release.
She opened her eyes and looked down at him, face buried in her, heavenly expression. Blue eyes open, she sees the love he has, the passion, and mouths, "I love you," to him.
In the past, she'd always felt this was more animalistic than other parts of sex, even the almost violent sex they'd had; something primal and scary. It was about control, relinquishing the loss of herself; her to him. The ultimate, most intimate kiss of desire, of love.
There had been nothing more than he wanted than to see her, feel her coming right in his mouth, to remind her that her body would always betray her mind, as far as he was concerned. For that reason alone, she had for the most part, denied him this pleasure, and herself, too.
For the same reason, she enjoyed taking him in her mouth. It was about the power, her power to bring him to the brink of insanity of desire for her, frustration that she wouldn't let him do the same.
And the sex? That could be as impersonal as she wanted to let it be. Didn't have to relinquish all control, had control; on top most the time. Tie him up, use him, abuse him, toss him away when he'd gotten too close.
But this was now. This was different; body, mind, heart - all his for the taking, all hers in the giving.
Buried in her warm folds, her c**t quivering against his tongue, he felt her wetness, her juices flowing from her as he licked her the way he knows she loved, that will give her the most pleasure. Teasingly slow, then faster, harder; repeat, until she was painfully tugging at his hair, moaning his name, begging him without words to bring her over the edge.
"Buffy," he murmured her name right into her, between licks, "love you, the taste of you, sweet as honey, drink you like a fine wine."
Always like this, the poet, William, coming out when Spike's heart was overwhelmed by emotion.
"Spike!" she screamed, as his voice does it, along with his tongue; making her convulse in a shuddering, full-body orgasm.
Panting, she laid back, legs quivering against the sides of his shoulders.
Spike laid his head on her stomach, hearing her heart thudding even from there.
She lay there, playing with his hair, when he raised himself up and put his arms around her back, lifting her up into a sitting position, once again.
"Com'ere," he murmured, his voice low and trembling, as he pulled her into the water, with him.
"Spike," she said, her mouth finding his, this time, both her legs wrapping around him, impaling herself on his shaft, all the way, no turning back, no hesitation, only him, her; only love.
"Buffy, luv, oh God!" he murmured, pushing her against the side, thrusting into her hot flesh again and again.
Nothing ever so right, ever so good, incredible, mind numbing, body pleasuring goodness, so hard, so right, so wonderful; him, her - together, as it was meant to be; should've been...
She felt him in her, filling her in a way that she's never felt filled before, completed, the other half of the whole, "Spike, love you, love you, lo..." she gasped, as her body shuddered, once again brought to sweet release.
"Buffy! Love you! Always!" Spike whispered into her neck, her ear, enveloped in her radiant, scorching heat, until he came too, like a bolt of lightening.
She was limp against him; spent.
He picked her up; her arms went around her neck, like when he had carried her back from his tomb the other night. Holding her in his arms, he sat down on a big rock ledge at the side of the pool, murmuring into her hair.
Buffy was so relaxed, she couldn't even stand up; she felt like her bones had turned to jelly. She lay in Spike's arms, head against his chest, enveloped by the warm water and his touch, and closed her eyes. Just for a minute, she told herself.
A while later Buffy woke up to find herself on one of the chaise loungers covered with a towel. She heard Spike dialing the phone-modem connection, heard him clicking the keypad that would show him the different pictures from the house, then heard him hand up.
He looked over at her after he had put the phone and laptop back in his backpack, "You're awake," he said.
"Yeah, didn't even know I'd fallen asleep," she said, reaching for a glass of lemonade.
"Thought I'd better get you out of that hot water, or you probably would have slept like Rip Van Winkle," Spike said with a smile.
"This is really nice, Spike," she said, taking his hand. "Thank you."
"Wanted to give you..." he couldn't say what he wanted to, so he just said, "a really nice, relaxing time away from Sunnydale."
"You did. It is. Sunnydale? What's that?" she asked, joking with him.
"A place, bad mostly, but some really good, and SAFE people live there, too," he said, letting her know all was alright on the home front.
"I know. You are, too," she said, squeezing his hand and closing her eyes.
About half an hour later, Spike stood in front of her, "Buffy?"
"Huh," she said, sleepily opening her eyes.
"We should probably get going, it's almost dusk and if you don't want to walk home all the way in the dark..."
"Okay, but it doesn't really matter, pretty used to the dark..." Buffy said.
"Yeah, but it's different here, really gets dark in the woods. Besides, still want to enjoy the scenery, right?"
"Okay," Buffy said, with a pout on her lips. It had been lovely here and she didn't want to particularly leave a luscious 90-degree temperature, Hot Springs and her day at the beach none-too-soon.
Spike handed her clothes to her, "Sit up," he said, holding the necklace.
She sat up and he once again put it on for her.
She looked down, glad to see it in its former place, seemed right, somehow; just like this day: Perfect.
"Where are we going?" Buffy asked Spike as they had taken a new trail.
"You'll see, be there in just a bit, pet," Spike said.
Buffy still was amazed everytime she looked at Spike, here with her, walking in the daylight; albeit, a very densely covered daylight.
Still...there, walking in the daylight, having a house of his own just made him seem more like a man than she ever could have imagined him seeming like to her. A normal man. And wasn't that what he had always been, at least a part of him, anyway?
What had he said to her? That she always, "Liked a little monster in her man"? She smiled, yeah, guess she did, but she also liked to see the man that he was, that he had been meant to be, if only...
"We're here," Spike said, interrupting her thoughts.
"Where?"
"Down there," he said, "it's a cave.
"Is this where you used to stay?" she asked him.
"Yep, this is it. Come on, something I want to show you," he said, reaching for her hand as they started to climb down through the brush. Once they got there, he stopped, removed some brush and to moved a heavy boulder from the front of the cave entrance.
Spike got a flashlight out of his pocket, "Might need this, it's a bit dark, at first," he said.
Spike entered first, then helped Buffy over the ledge into the cave.
"Afraid we'll have to crawl for about 50 feet, then we can walk the rest of the way."
"Okay," Buffy said, getting down on her knees.
The crawl wasn't too difficult. No ups or downs, just pretty straightforward, although pretty narrow.
Finally they came to where the tunnel-like space they had crawled through opened up into a larger room.
Buffy stood up. It almost looked like his old crypt had, except not lived in and not cozy. Still, it reminded her of Spike's type of crypt decor, in the barest sense of the word.
Spike looked around, trying to remember the last time he'd been here. It had been on his way back from Africa. He just couldn't handle being at the house, so he'd mostly spent his days in here; sitting, staring, trying to find his way back to some sort of reality in his mind that wasn't plagued by visions, of images, of guilt and remorse.
He sighed.
"What's the matter, Spike?" Buffy asked, seeing that this place was having some sort of effect on him.
"It's nothing luv, only..."
"Only what, Spike?"
"Just...just, I spent some time here; before coming back to Sunnydale, after..."
"After you got your soul?" she asked.
He nodded.
She took his hand and squeezed it, then turned to face him.
"Thank you, Spike," she said.
"For what, Buffy?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.
"For getting your soul. For me. Fighting for it, in order to become a better man. I never told you before...how much I...how, that....it," she couldn't finish what she was trying to say, that it was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done.
"You don't have to do this Buffy, it's alright. It needed to be done, so I did it; that's all. No use in belaboring it all over again luv," he said, pulling her in close. "We're here, together for now, that's what counts, right?"
She nodded, afraid to speak.
Spike pulled away, "Wait right here, I'll be right back," he said, and hurried down a passageway off to the left of the room.
She stood there in the dark, except for the flashlight and wondered what he was up to.
She heard his footsteps as he came back into view of her flashlight.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Wanted to make sure my surprise was ready," he said, coming up to her and taking her hand.
"What is it, Spike?"
He laughed, "Still don't trust me one hundred percent, huh, Slayer?"
She turned to look at him, "I trust you, Spike, I just don't particularly like surprises," she said, trying to cover up the doubts she still had from time to time.
"I understand, really I do. If I were you, I'd never trust me completely either, but I'm asking you to right now. Now, close your eyes, take my hand, and let me show you what I really brought you here for," Spike ordered.
She looked at him seriously one more time, then shrugged, closed her eyes, and squeezed his hand, "Okay, Spike, you win, surprise away!"
She felt herself being led along a fairly long passageway; at least 150 yards or so. As she walked, she could hear water, and the temperature around her seemed to be getting warmer, until it seemed to be downright balmy by the time they stopped.
"Open your eyes," Spike told her.
She did. Buffy stood inside of a much smaller room than the one they'd been in before. It was light, too, even without a flashlight. The light came from four flute holes, high above them. The holes were almost in a square pattern, about 15 feet from each other.
And in the middle of the points of light was the thing that Spike had brought her to see, and the thing causing the temperature in the room to be about 90 degrees; a natural hot spring, about 15 feet round. And around one side of the hot spring was sand, two beach chairs/loungers, and a small table with an umbrella, complete with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.
"What the...?"
Spike smiled, "Like it?" he asked her.
She nodded, dumbfounded.
"Spike!" Buffy said, "this is amazing! I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams just what you wanted to show me. Especially here; a natural spring, a Hot Springs at that, in a cave, it's..."
"Quite unusual," he finished for her, smiling as he enjoyed her pleasure at seeing it finally. "And the sand, the rest of it...?"
"Clem did it for me," Spike answered, "figured I couldn't give you a true day at the beach, but this would be the next best thing."
She walked over and bent over the pool, tentatively sticking her hand in, "It's wonderful," she said.
He came over to her as she stood up, "Would you like to try it out?" he asked.
"I'd love to, but I don't think I can," she said.
"Why not?" he asked, a look of concern crossing his face.
"Don't have anything to dry off with," she said, rather sheepishly.
"Yeah, you do," Spike said, smiling and taking off the backpack, he pulled out some big fluffy towels he'd gotten from the house.
"You think of everything, Mr. William Worthington," she said, in a falsetto southern accent.
Spike grinned, "Didn't think I'd let you go to the 'beach' without a towel, now did you?"
"Well, no use wasting a perfectly good Hot Springs, is there?" Buffy said, starting to take off her boots.
"No use," Spike said, and started doing the same.
A couple of minutes later she stood at the pools edge, then crouched down, "How deep is it?" she asked.
"About 4 feet, if I remember right," Spike said, coming over to her side, breathing her in her scent.
"Give me your hand, as you ease yourself in, Buffy," Spike said.
"Wait," she said, and took off the necklace, placing it on top of her blouse.
"Okay," she agreed, holding his hands above her head, as she slid, legs first into the steaming water.
"Oh my God, this feels so wonderful!" she said, once she was all the way in.
Spike sat down on the edge, then pushed off the sides with his hand and joined her in the water.
Buffy closed her eyes and let herself fall back into the water, getting her hair wet, too. She closed her eyes and floated that way for a couple of minutes, her arms above her head, holding loosely onto the sides.
Spike looked at her; naked breasts, tiny waist, light brown v-shaped curls just breaking through the water above them for a peek-a-boo every once in a while, settling back down in ringlets under the water.
She's so lovely, he thought. If I could die now, from the sight of her, I'll not need any more heaven than this.
He decided to join her and lay back to float, also. He wasn't very good at floating and he kept having to arch his back every couple of seconds, as his legs started going down.
Buffy opened her eyes and lifted her head up. She giggled at the sight of him struggling.
"Don't vampires float?" she asked him.
"Well, I don't know if THEY float, only know this one doesn't so well," he said rather indignantly.
Buffy put her feet back down and stood by him, "You can do it, Spike, you're just not doing it right," she said, and with that she put one hand underneath his back and one underneath his bottom.
"Straighten out your legs," she commanded, "now push your shoulders down a bit!"
Spike coughed, as his head went under, "Bloody hell!"
"Don't be such a baby!" she scolded him. "You want to learn or what?"
"I don't care if I do or I don't. Didn't have much use for it when I was human, haven't much needed it for the other 120 years plus since I've been a vampire, either," he snarked.
"Baby!" she giggled.
"Am not!"
"Are so!"
He started to get up.
"Not so fast, Mr. either you learn to float, or I'm going to let you sink!" Buffy said.
"Sink or swim, then is it, Slayer," Spike asked, eyeing her breasts as they were only about 6 inches away from his face.
"That's right, Spike! Sink or swim, or in this case, flail or float," she laughed, then realizing where his eyes were looking she had an idea.
She looked down at him. Ummmhmmm, just as she suspected.
"Spike! Floating is just a knack of knowing how to adjust your body, how to hold it in the water. Once you get it, it's like..." she was going to say riding a bike, but she wasn't sure he knew how to do that either, "sex," she said, thinking that was a better example. At least one he would readily relate to.
"Sex, hmmm?" he asked, all attention now on Buffy.
"Spike," Buffy said, removing her hand from under his bottom and placing it above him, palm outstretched, giggling, "okay, now try to touch my hand with it," she said, as she held her hand a mere couple of inches above his hardness, which was hard, but still under the water.
She still had one hand under his back, "Legs together, shoulders down, pelvis up!" she directed.
Spike was going to get this, if it was the last thing he did. He could feel the warmth of her hand, even through the hot water, there, waiting to touch him.
Spike concentrated, finally he felt his himself straighten out, and his manhood came up above the water and into Buffy's waiting hand.
He closed his eyes at the touch, and just as he did, he sank back down again.
"Bloody Hell!" he said, trying to right himself.
"It's okay, Spike. You gave it the old college try!" Buffy said.
Spike stood up and Buffy came over to where he was standing.
All of this 'watching' him was beginning to make her want him. Again.
It felt like there was so much time to make up for. And...so little time left.
She put her arms around him, burrowing her face into his neck, as she pressed her body against his hardness.
"Buffy," he said, pressing back into her, feeling her wet curls against him. He felt one of her legs go around him, as she continued to press against him.
His mouth sought hers out, his hands pushed her wet hair away from her face, "Wait," he whispered to her.
"Wait?" she asked, looking at him.
"I want to see you float again," he said.
"Okay," she said, smiling, as she took her leg back out from around him, and lay down on her back.
He looked at her floating there; Venus didn't have anything over her. He took his hands and put them very close, but not quite touching her. First her face. She closed her eyes, as she felt the droplets of water from his hands fall softly on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips; two hands barely caressing, not quite touching her.
She opened her eyes as he did the same down her neck, her chest, over her breasts. She felt the slightest touch on her nipples as his palms gently moved over them, making them pebble. He dipped his hands into the warm water and then released them slowly over her nipples, her breasts, down her stomach, all the way to right above where her need for him lay.
Again, he watched as the curls from between her legs made appearances in and out of the water. He could feel her desire as he put his hand above her. He could feel her body temperature, even through the ambient heat of the water. He felt the heat rise off her as he moved his hands above her, but beyond her stomach...his hands felt on fire and he hadn't even touched her yet.
She sighed from the sensuousness of it all.
One week of Human Sexuality in college, before she had to drop, in order to take care of slaying business, was enough for her to remember how it worked. Brain, touch, nerve endings, brain, pulsing down below. Setting up a sexual response in under a second.
She mused to herself that they ought to have had a separate course called, "Hot Sex with a Vampire Lover." No, make that, "Hot Sex with the Vampire, Spike!" Much better, but then again, she didn't want to share his secrets with anyone else.
She sighed again, feeling the strong pulse of her desire between her legs.
Spike moved his hands down over her thighs, down her legs, until he was at her feet.
He moved to stand at her feet, then gently spread them apart, causing her to quiver in anticipation, causing her to start to lose the natural balance. To compensate, she wrapped her legs lightly around his hips, as he put his hands on either sides of her legs and gently pulled her toward him, until her wide open legs were just barely touching him.
She moaned, trying to pull herself in closer to him.
He took his one hand off of her leg and put it between them. He rubbed her gently, causing her to tighten her legs around him, pull herself forward, trying to feel more than a gentle touch.
"No, slowly," he told her softly, "it'll be better, trust me."
His voice. God, did he know what he did to her with his voice alone? All those times last year, all those pretty, sensual, wonderful things he would say to her, all the while all she had for him was insults.
He took his hand away, and gently pulled her up. Her arms went around him, as she tried to wrap her legs around him, have him inside her.
"Buffy," he moaned in her ear, while gently disengaging from her legs, pulling her toward the side of the pool. He quickly reached the towels and put one near the edge of the pool, lay the backpack a few feet away with another towel over it, like a pillow.
He turned back to her, turning her so that she was right in front of the towel, Buffy," Spike said, his voice deep, sexy, full of love and want for her, "I want to know where you live again, I want to taste it," and with those words, he felt her quiver as she slumped against him, moaning; putting his hands on her waist he lifted her up and onto the towel. He felt her heartbeat pounding like a native drum; for him, as he put his head between her breasts, standing between her legs.
Her hands went up, to run her fingers through his curly hair, to caress his face. As she did, he turned his head up, as her mouth met his, her tongue feeling his tongue, his lips, his teeth.
"Lay back," he said, as he gently guided her back onto the towel and towel covered backpack.
She was trembling with desire and emotion.
As he let her down, he ran his hands over her breasts, lingering there for a couple of minutes, touching them like a blind man would, trying to get a permanent picture in his mind of their shape, their feel... He leaned up out of the water, kissing her stomach, as his hands held the sides of her hips. He gently pulled her bottom closer to the edge, as he sank down to his knees in the water, her legs over his shoulders, and his head in front of the only home he had loved the best; where she lived.
His thumbs gently played with the soft, wet ringlets, as he slowly moved apart the folds of her skin, like parting a flower, to see that her bud was red, ripe; quivering in almost unbearable expectation of that first touch of his mouth.
He closed his eyes as he inhaled her perfume...
Buffy was lost and found all in the same moment, as his warm mouth made its contact with her c**t. Hands in his hair she pulled him closer, closer; his tongue working its magic as he brought her nearer and nearer to the edge of release.
She opened her eyes and looked down at him, face buried in her, heavenly expression. Blue eyes open, she sees the love he has, the passion, and mouths, "I love you," to him.
In the past, she'd always felt this was more animalistic than other parts of sex, even the almost violent sex they'd had; something primal and scary. It was about control, relinquishing the loss of herself; her to him. The ultimate, most intimate kiss of desire, of love.
There had been nothing more than he wanted than to see her, feel her coming right in his mouth, to remind her that her body would always betray her mind, as far as he was concerned. For that reason alone, she had for the most part, denied him this pleasure, and herself, too.
For the same reason, she enjoyed taking him in her mouth. It was about the power, her power to bring him to the brink of insanity of desire for her, frustration that she wouldn't let him do the same.
And the sex? That could be as impersonal as she wanted to let it be. Didn't have to relinquish all control, had control; on top most the time. Tie him up, use him, abuse him, toss him away when he'd gotten too close.
But this was now. This was different; body, mind, heart - all his for the taking, all hers in the giving.
Buried in her warm folds, her c**t quivering against his tongue, he felt her wetness, her juices flowing from her as he licked her the way he knows she loved, that will give her the most pleasure. Teasingly slow, then faster, harder; repeat, until she was painfully tugging at his hair, moaning his name, begging him without words to bring her over the edge.
"Buffy," he murmured her name right into her, between licks, "love you, the taste of you, sweet as honey, drink you like a fine wine."
Always like this, the poet, William, coming out when Spike's heart was overwhelmed by emotion.
"Spike!" she screamed, as his voice does it, along with his tongue; making her convulse in a shuddering, full-body orgasm.
Panting, she laid back, legs quivering against the sides of his shoulders.
Spike laid his head on her stomach, hearing her heart thudding even from there.
She lay there, playing with his hair, when he raised himself up and put his arms around her back, lifting her up into a sitting position, once again.
"Com'ere," he murmured, his voice low and trembling, as he pulled her into the water, with him.
"Spike," she said, her mouth finding his, this time, both her legs wrapping around him, impaling herself on his shaft, all the way, no turning back, no hesitation, only him, her; only love.
"Buffy, luv, oh God!" he murmured, pushing her against the side, thrusting into her hot flesh again and again.
Nothing ever so right, ever so good, incredible, mind numbing, body pleasuring goodness, so hard, so right, so wonderful; him, her - together, as it was meant to be; should've been...
She felt him in her, filling her in a way that she's never felt filled before, completed, the other half of the whole, "Spike, love you, love you, lo..." she gasped, as her body shuddered, once again brought to sweet release.
"Buffy! Love you! Always!" Spike whispered into her neck, her ear, enveloped in her radiant, scorching heat, until he came too, like a bolt of lightening.
She was limp against him; spent.
He picked her up; her arms went around her neck, like when he had carried her back from his tomb the other night. Holding her in his arms, he sat down on a big rock ledge at the side of the pool, murmuring into her hair.
Buffy was so relaxed, she couldn't even stand up; she felt like her bones had turned to jelly. She lay in Spike's arms, head against his chest, enveloped by the warm water and his touch, and closed her eyes. Just for a minute, she told herself.
A while later Buffy woke up to find herself on one of the chaise loungers covered with a towel. She heard Spike dialing the phone-modem connection, heard him clicking the keypad that would show him the different pictures from the house, then heard him hand up.
He looked over at her after he had put the phone and laptop back in his backpack, "You're awake," he said.
"Yeah, didn't even know I'd fallen asleep," she said, reaching for a glass of lemonade.
"Thought I'd better get you out of that hot water, or you probably would have slept like Rip Van Winkle," Spike said with a smile.
"This is really nice, Spike," she said, taking his hand. "Thank you."
"Wanted to give you..." he couldn't say what he wanted to, so he just said, "a really nice, relaxing time away from Sunnydale."
"You did. It is. Sunnydale? What's that?" she asked, joking with him.
"A place, bad mostly, but some really good, and SAFE people live there, too," he said, letting her know all was alright on the home front.
"I know. You are, too," she said, squeezing his hand and closing her eyes.
About half an hour later, Spike stood in front of her, "Buffy?"
"Huh," she said, sleepily opening her eyes.
"We should probably get going, it's almost dusk and if you don't want to walk home all the way in the dark..."
"Okay, but it doesn't really matter, pretty used to the dark..." Buffy said.
"Yeah, but it's different here, really gets dark in the woods. Besides, still want to enjoy the scenery, right?"
"Okay," Buffy said, with a pout on her lips. It had been lovely here and she didn't want to particularly leave a luscious 90-degree temperature, Hot Springs and her day at the beach none-too-soon.
Spike handed her clothes to her, "Sit up," he said, holding the necklace.
She sat up and he once again put it on for her.
She looked down, glad to see it in its former place, seemed right, somehow; just like this day: Perfect.