Chapter 24

When Spike and Buffy finally returned to the apartment, it was empty and Spike was exhausted.

"Where did everybody go?" Spike asked.

"Dawn is out with friends. I guess everybody else went back to Angel's."

"What's up with him anyway?"

"Who?"

"Angel."

"Why?"

"Isn't he your one true love? Why is he helping?"

Buffy sighed. "Spike he's helping because we're friends."

"Is that all? Friends?"

"Yes."

"Because you can never be anything else, right? You know, it is possible to get a soul without the curse."

"Spike," she said through gritted teeth, "we're friends. That's it."

"Because of the curse."

"Because I love you."

"I thought you'd be with him."

"Why?"

Spike shrugged. "Make sense, didn't it? You save the world, get your life back, and run to his waiting arms."

"I didn't want his waiting arms, Spike. What we had has mellowed to friendship, and that's the way I like it. He's good to have around, you know?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he gets the job done."

"Are you going to be all jealous for the rest of the night? Because it's boring, and I have other plans."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I can think of much better things to do with my time than deal with that. I can think of much better things to do with your time."

"Show me." 

Buffy pulled Spike into the bedroom, and then pushed him onto the bed. "Hey, watch it. I'm still a bit sore."

"Where? Let me see."

She yanked his shirt over his head, revealing his healing chest. It wasn't as defined or muscled—still William's body, after all—but her hands and mouth were drawn to it. She skimmed over the marks, and focused on the unmarred skin. She kissed, licked, and nipped at him softly, her hands roaming his body.

"Oh…Buffy…" he moaned as she continued her exploration.

"Missed you," she breathed, her hot mouth against his skin. "Let me show you, ok?"

Her hands fumbled with the fly of his pants, freeing him quickly and pushing the jeans past his hips. She pulled them down his legs, and he was left naked on the bed, waiting for her. He was already hard for her, aching to touch her again, but she batted his hands away.

"Let me," she repeated.

She rubbed his warm thighs, massaging the muscles, as her hands moved closer to his crotch. He whimpered slightly as she caressed the sensitive spot, just on the inside of his thigh. His muscles tensed and he jumped. She smiled and rubbed the spot again, and was rewarded with the same reaction.

Buffy moved further down, careful to touch or massage every single inch of his, burning his flesh with her hot hands, suffusing him with her warmth and her scent, her soft mouth trailing after her fingers, her silky hair falling all around him.

Buffy straightened long enough to pull her own clothes off, and then stretched out next to him, pressing her breasts against his chest as she covered his mouth with hers. He threaded his fingers though her hair, gripping her tightly, unwilling to let her go again. The kiss deepened, and Spike marveled at the way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way her silky skin felt against his, slightly damp with sweat and flushed with desire.

It was Spike's turn to reacquaint himself with her body, and he did so with gusto. His hands were soft and sure, finding the spots that made her squirm without fail, drawing moans and pleas from her. Fever passion lurked just below the surface, carefully reined in, because both of them wanted to do this right. It wasn't the time to be rough or needy, and Buffy didn't want to force the moment. It needed to happen slowly, naturally, as they both looked for their comfort level.

They grasped each other, afraid to let go, afraid to let even an inch separate them. Spike could hear both of their hearts, but couldn't tell them apart. His world was the color of her eyes, and everything around them dimmed. The concerns and worries of the day fell behind him, and she too lost all concern for the rest of the world. Blue locked on green, and anything they needed to say was communicated through their gaze and their touches.

His eyes never left hers when he slipped into her, his forehead resting against hers as he pushed into her again and again. She grasped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him. They tried to keep the slow pace, but it wasn't going to happen. Once he was inside of her, all grand plans of taking it slow fled. He just wanted to pound into her as hard as he could, take her back after over a year, claim her again.

"Faster," she encouraged. "Faster, faster, faster."

He stopped, and she yelped in protest. He rolled over and put her on top so she could control the pace. Pleased with the new position, she unleashed herself on him, and he grunted with pleasure. God, he needed this. He needed to see her rise and fall above him. He needed to see her glowing skin and her face awash with bliss. He needed to see her soft breasts, hear her soft moans. Everything was so…soft.

Despite it all, Spike needed more. He felt like something was missing, something was still wrong. He didn't understand. He had it all, he had everything he wanted in her. She was surrounding him in everyway, and had he really been in heaven? Because this…this was unlike anything he had ever experienced, anytime, anywhere.

So what was missing?

Spike flipped them over again, and settled on top of her. He pushed her hair away from her neck and forced her head back, exposing her neck. She didn't try to pull away; she didn't give him any indication either way. He hesitantly lowered his head and nuzzled her throat with blunt teeth. She moaned in response, and that encouraged him. He shifted into game face, but didn't do anything past that. Not yet.

"Do it," she said softly. "Do it."

Sharp fangs pierced her skin, and she grasped his head, holding him down. There it was. There's what was missing. So elusive…her taste, her fire, her love…her heart. There it was. The blood gave him a high, and his head was spinning. He was so close…his thrust harder into her, his teeth sunk deeper into her flesh, and the rushed pleasure and sharp pain made a heady cocktail for Buffy. She climaxed, gasping his name weakly, unable to speak or think or do anything but close her eyes and ride crest after crest of bliss.

Spike retracted his teeth, and then came deep inside of her. "Love you," he gasped. "Love you so much."

She didn't let him pull away from her, even after he was spent. They fell asleep, wrapped around each other and weak from each other, hungry for each other, lost in each other…safe…warm…