SUMMARY: Spike gets a new toy he wasn't expecting, and Willow finds out that life--and Gods--can sometimes throw humans for a loop.
TITLE: Order Now (14/?)
AUTHOR: sinecure
RATED: R
DISCLAIMER: Joss and ME own BtVS, I don't, and the way these past seasons are going, I'm glad I don't.
DEDICATED: To Claudia, because, not only is she the best beta ever, but she's also quite the friend. She kicks ass on grammar--just call her the Hyphen Queen, I do--spelling, characterization, plot. She makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier... even when she's killing my poor little defenseless plot-babies.
PART 14
Spike sat on the bed with a groan, trying to hide his sudden stunned realization from Willow. She didn't need to know how far gone he was. Not now.
There'd be plenty of time for that later.
He closed his eyes with a sigh, hating the un-beating piece of muscle in his chest, constantly getting him into one heartbreaking situation after another. His life was filled with pain caused by the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself from caring so bloody much for people.
Cecily, his mother, Dru... Buffy. And now Willow. Would it ever stop? More importantly, would he ever find someone willing to care for him just as much as he cared for them?
"So..." Willow said awkwardly, not noticing his sudden mood change. She shifted on the bed, sitting beside him, glancing toward him quickly before looking away again. "Now what?"
"Hmm?" His mind wasn't on the woman beside him anymore, it was on his future with the woman beside him. Did they have a future together? It'd be nice if they did, but he knew for a fact that nothing in life was a sure bet.
"Spike?" She nudged his shoulder with her own, and then waved her hand in front of his face. "Hello?" When he snapped out of his reverie, she grew more nervous. "Or, maybe there is no 'now what?'. Maybe you wanted to leave when I stopped you, and then I stopped you, and you didn't leave, and now you want to. So, you should. If-- uh, if you want to." She cleared her throat, scooting a few inches away from him. "Do you want to?"
"No," he told her, clearing his throat as well as his thoughts. "I was just thinking. I do that occasionally. Got brains and all." He frowned at the bed behind him. "Uh, lie down."
She lost the nervous, babbling routine real quick, and raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don't think so," she scoffed, snorting a few times too.
"Relax," he chuckled, reaching behind him for the jar of salve. It was hiding under the corner of the blanket on the far side of the bed, making him work to get it. "I'm just gonna rub some of this--aha," he grabbed the jar and straightened up, tossing it into the air and catching it, "smelly rubbish on you."
She scooted back on the bed with a stern look at him, making sure he understood that's all they'd be doing as she rolled over to lie on her stomach. "You know just what to say to make my heart go pitter-patter, Spike."
"It's a gift," he muttered, opening the jar as he climbed on the bed, straddling her waist lightly. Pushing the sheet aside, baring her back to his gaze, he ran his salve-free hand down her side. "So you told Buffy?" After last night's argument, he was sure she wouldn't be telling anyone anything ever. At least nothing having to do with him. "What'd she say?"
Willow sighed, shifting underneath him a little as he started to rub the stinky gunk onto her skin. "Buffy's a skeptical kind of person," she told him, defending Buffy, which only served to annoy him more. "She can't help that she doesn't always believe things right away." She shivered when he slid his left hand down to her waist, and then a little lower, sliding around to the front. "Hands," she chastised, waiting until he'd returned to her back before continuing. "And she had good reason to be skeptical with you it turns out." She glanced back at him, shrugging. "I mean, you said you were in love with her, and now you say you're not."
"Not my fault," he muttered, sliding both hands to the front, cupping her breasts despite her attempts to wriggle free of his touch. "It felt like love."
She cleared her throat loudly, pointedly. "Hands, Spike, they seem to have wandered." She sucked in a breath, fighting the way her body was reacting to him, trying to calm her breathing, to not be affected by him. She was losing miserably.
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples a few times before retreating again. She was getting aroused, he could smell her, feel the difference in her body heat. Her heart was speeding up, her breathing becoming erratic. She wanted him.
Once his hands moved to her back again, she drew in a deep breath and relaxed as much as her tightly-strung body could with him this close. "How do you know it isn't love?" she asked, turning to look over her shoulder at him. "You thought it was, mistook it for love, so how do you know it's not?"
He followed the movements of his hands with his eyes as he splayed his fingers down again, across her stomach. He was wondering just how much he should tell her, how much she could be told before he scared her away. So long as she didn't laugh or ridicule him, he thought he was pretty well off. And since honesty was something that was lacking tonight, aside from a few half-truths and bent facts, he decided to tell her the truth.
"Because I'm remembering what real love feels like." Raising his eyes to hers, he slid his hands further down, avoiding where she wanted to be touched, sliding them down the front of her thighs instead.
She stared back at him for a second, looking like she didn't quite comprehend his words, but then she got it and her eyes widened. "Oh." She frowned, still staring back at him, not exactly sure how to respond to his partial declaration, so she just added another, "Oh," and turned to face the headboard again.
Safer territory. Better to stare at a wall than respond to a vampire who'd just told her he was falling in love with her.
He'd probably do the same thing, he thought with a sigh.
Sitting up, he dropped his hands to her legs, resting them there while he contemplated leaving again. No response from her probably meant she didn't feel the same way, and wasn't starting to. Yeah, leaving would be best about now.
He shifted on the bed, climbing off of her legs as he prepared to stand up, but she turned around suddenly, sitting up and gripping his wrists.
"Me too," she admitted, tightening her hands on his wrists until it became almost painful. "I think I'm starting to remember that feeling too."
He exhaled shortly, staring at her hands on his wrists, not allowing the joy he felt to show through quite yet. That she felt something for him was enough for now. It was enough. He drew in a deep breath, smiling at her, but she didn't notice, she was still looking down at the bed.
"And, though it's different this time, it's nice." Her eyes darted up to his before planting themselves right back onto the bed. "It's... I like this. It's--"
"Nice?" he ventured, ducking his head to catch her eye.
She nodded, tightening her hands even more. "Yeah. And scary." She finally realized she was still gripping his wrists and released them with a surprised grunt. "Sorry. Good thing you're a vampire," she chuckled, fidgeting with the sheet, straightening it over her chest, smoothing it out over her legs.
Standing up, keeping his eyes on the top of her bowed head, he stripped his shirt off again, dropping it to the floor beside the bed.
Her head raised up, her eyes showing her amusement. "You just don't give up, do you?"
He shook his head, lowering his hands to the waistband of his jeans, intending to strip them off before remembering he was going to tease her a bit. Get her used to the idea of the two of them dirtying up the bed.
Her eyes dropped to his hands, waiting, but she was about to be disappointed.
He put one knee on the edge of the bed, leaning down to her long enough to plant a kiss on her lips.
"Mm," she mumbled, closing her eyes as he continued to move his lips over hers. After a minute, she pushed him away, breathless and panting. She stared at his chest as she tried to catch her breath.
"See anything you like?" he asked, tucking his tongue behind his teeth to keep from laughing at the blush creeping up her cheeks.
Three times in one night, had to be a record.
"Not really," she answered thoughtfully, smiling up at him. "Seen one blonde god, you've seen 'em all," she said in dismissal, shrugging her naked shoulders.
Spike burst out laughing, wondering if she'd been talking to his robot. "Ain't that the truth?" he agreed, running his eyes over her colorful back. "I'm starting to prefer red anyway. And black and blue mixed in with a little green and yellow." He raised his eyes to her hair, taking it in, sliding a hand down the red strands. "Yeah, red's more my thing these days."
She sighed contentedly, rolling over and lying down, snuggling into the mattress.
She was in the middle of the bed on her stomach, covered only to the small of her back. The rest of her was open to his eyes.
Crawling across the bed to her, he gently straddled her thighs, moving up a bit to be able to reach all of her. The jar of stinky salve was dropped to the bed in favor of him running his hands along her skin again.
She shifted underneath him, anticipating the first touch of his hands on her back, expecting more of the cold wet salve. What she got was strong, cool hands caressing her lower back. He spanned his hands along her back, covering the mottled bruising that had her whole back looking like an abstract painting.
Trailing his fingers along her sides, he watched her skin shift and move with each breath she took. His fingers slid along the sides of her breasts again, and she drew in a breath, making the skin stretch taut.
He leaned over her, not pressing against her, but close enough to become a few degrees warmer. "How badly does it hurt?" he asked, running his hands up her back with a little pressure.
"Ow," she mumbled, turning her face into the pillow with a gasp. "Kind of badly." Her voice was pain-filled, her back collecting a fine sheen of sweat as she panted. Both pain and desire were fighting for dominance, and he took pity on her.
"More stinky salve to the rescue," he said with a chuckle, hiding his frown from her. The fact that she was still this sore and filled with pain had him worried. She was hurting and he didn't like that. He wanted her to be pain-free and worry-free, to be walking around without a care in the world except whether or not he intended to make love to her once, or more, that night.
"Oh, yay," she said, "more Eau De Sewers." She turned her head to the left, sighing softly as she pushed herself onto her elbows. "Spike...?" trailing off, she glanced over her shoulder at him, then straight in front of her again. "Thank you. I mean, you know, for being so nice to me af-- after last night."
He unscrewed the lid on the jar of salve, dipping a few of the fingers of his left hand into the goopy stuff. "Well, I can't really help it," he muttered, "because you really, really turn me on. You get me hotter than a griddle during a pancake cook-off."
"Pancake cook-off?" she repeated, snorting with laughter.
Of course she focused on that part of his comment, completely ignoring the compliment he'd paid her.
He shrugged lightly, chuckling at her. "They've got chili cook-offs, why not a pancake one?" He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm up the salve, sending up a smell like the sewers of a zoo. "God, this stuff seems to get more disgusting each time I use it."
Shifting a little to get into a better position on her thighs, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck before sliding his hands along the bruising below.
"Oh, hey," she gasped, wriggling underneath him, "that feels good." She glared at him over her shoulder, her stern voice making him laugh all the more. "And you're so not playing fair."
"If that's how you react to a repulsive-smelling salve, I can't wait to see how you respond to me." Her skin heated again, turning the pale flesh of her neck and face pink. She was sexy when she blushed.
"You know that's-- wait. What? No," she denied, trying to sit up and turn to face him at the same time. He held her still, keeping her from moving anything more than her head. "There'll be no responding to anyone or anything. Not tonight. There's too much--"
He leaned down again, kissing her shoulder blades one at a time, then smoothed his hands over them.
"Cheater." She closed her eyes with a moan, shivering underneath his hands. Another moan escaped her as he rubbed gently along her neck and shoulders.
Spike fought the urge to strip off his jeans and take her right then and there, any way he wanted to. She wasn't his bot, and she was already hurt, so he had to be gentle with her, but it was hard. He was hard. Harder than flippin' concrete, he thought with a groan.
He finished spreading the salve, raining a trail of kisses along the salve-free parts of her neck. Wasn't long before he needed to seek relief or die trying. He climbed off of her and headed into the bathroom.
She frowned at him, opening her mouth to-- protest? Or encourage him to leave?
"Gotta wash this gunk off my hands." He stopped in the bathroom doorway, running his eyes over her, feeling his own body heating up with every inch he took in. Left silent was the part where he needed clean hands to touch her everywhere he intended to touch her.
"Oh. Yeah, you should probably do that." She laid her head back down on the pillow, closing her eyes.
He dashed into the bathroom, slowly, of course, and hurriedly washed off all the salve, needing to use soap three times before the greasy feel of it left him, along with the smell. Drying his hands off he glanced idly around for lotion. He didn't want to touch her with dry, papery-feeling hands.
"If you want some lotion," she called to him as he entered the bedroom again, "um, I think there's some on the table over there." She gestured behind her.
Was she reading his bloody mind? He scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes, pretending he had no intention of grabbing it as soon as possible. "I'm a vampire, love. What use would I have for lotion?" He sat on the bed, running his eyes over her, following some of the trails his eyes took with his hands.
"Then I'd think you'd need it even more," she said reasonably. "Dead skin and all that." She shrugged a little, moving less stiffly than before, but obviously still sore.
"Hmm," he muttered, taking in every freckle and mark on her. "Shows how much you know." God, she was beautiful. The bot was an exact replica of her in every way, except freckles. And moles. Scars. Anything and everything that marked skin was missing from the bot, and he liked that the real Willow had all that. Made her feel more real to him, as if she wasn't already more real than anyone he'd ever wanted.
But, before he touched her too much, he did need some lotion on his dry hands. He stood up with a heavy sigh and skirted the bed, moving gratefully toward the vanity table. "If you want me to use some, I'll use some. It won't kill me, I guess." He squinted at all the bottles and tubes of things, reaching for the only one resembling a lotion bottle and raised it high enough to read. "I just better not start smelling of perfumy things." But the lotion wasn't perfume-scented. He lifted an eyebrow, staring at her back. Vanilla.
Could this be where one of those unique smells was coming from? He uncapped the bottle, taking a deep whiff of it, pulling it away from him almost immediately. This wasn't it at all. The smell was completely different.
"You won't," she told him, amusement evident in her voice. "I don't like perfumy things." She opened her eyes, watching him. "But it'd serve you right if you did."
He looked up at her innocently as he tipped the lotion up, dumping a small amount of the thick liquid into his palm. He quickly recapped the bottle, setting it back in its place on the table. He rubbed the lotion into his hands with relief, and skirted around the bed again. "Here now, no need to get evil," he told her, grinning at the rolled eyes she sent his way.
"Please," she scoffed, not buying the innocence one bit. "You came over here with the express purpose of trying to get me into bed. *I'm* not the one who's evil in this room."
Well, she had him there. He shrugged as he stood over her, grinning and clapping his hands once loudly, before rubbing them together eagerly. "So! All ready to have sex?"
She snorted with laughter, her amused eyes landing on his. "Oh, yeah, primed and ready to go. See me going?" She settled more comfortably into the mattress, smiling in contentment.
"I see you going..." he admitted, sitting on the bed as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Going at it all night. With me, of course."
She raised an eyebrow at him, looking very much the haughty lady. "Of course. But it's probably not going-- I mean, it's not going to happen. Definitely not going to. 'Cause... well, you're going to be a gentleman."
He shook his head, staying right where he was. He had no intention of leaving until sex was had. With Willow. The real Willow. He smiled and leaned down, kissing her cheek softly, just on the outside of her lips. "I can be a gentleman, Willow." He slid a hand down her shoulder and arm, settling it on her waist. "When I make love to you, I'll say 'please' and 'thank you' and 'can I have some more?'. You know," he said absently, "this body of yours is perfect..."
"Oh," she accused, "you're a peeker! You're so busted." Her eyebrows drew together in a frown, her lips pursing in anger.
"Guilty," he admitted, glancing briefly up at her face before returning his attention to his hand on her hip. She shivered, squirming when he touched a ticklish spot.
"No tickling," she warned him, turning as she sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest. "I mean it. I get violent when I'm tickled. I don't like it." She stared at him, waiting for him to agree.
He held his hands up innocently, chuckling at the threatening look she tossed him. Apparently tickling wasn't one of her favorite past-times. "All right, agreed. No tickling. Is there a story there... or...?"
"Yeah. I don't like being tickled, end of story." She laid back down, watching him closely, making sure he didn't dart a hand out, one that was intent on tickling the bejesus out of her.
"No tickling," he promised, smoothing her hair behind her ear, tucking it there with his thumb. "But I can't promise there won't be touching." Her eyes stayed steady on his, not moving away nervously, searching for something other than him to look at. "Because there's going to be touching. Lots of it."
She sighed in a put-upon way, looking like he'd just taken all the fight out of her and knocked down her resolve. "Touching is... good, I like touching. But, I'm sore. And you're..."
"Turned on to the point of embarrassing myself at the first touch of your hands on my oh-so-hot body?" The smile on his face turned rueful. She thought he was kidding.
She chuckled softly. "Well, I was gonna say, 'you're in a house full of people who aren't real fond of you at the moment.' but yours works too." She looked away, lifting a hand to free the hair he'd tucked behind her ear as she contemplated his words. "Are you really?"
Instead of answering, he stood up, raising an eyebrow at her. Her eyes lowered slowly to the bulge in his jeans, and then jumped back up to his face with an exhaled breath.
"Men got it hard, love--"
She burst out laughing at his poor choice of words, silencing her snickers with her hand. Her amused eyes flittered back down to his jeans, unbuckled and partially undone. The amusement faded away, replaced by a lingering fire that burned inside her. "You know," she said quietly, "maybe it wouldn't be a horrible thing to... well, we can have--" her eyes raised to his, her look almost pleading with him to agree. "Sex between us wouldn't be wrong, per se, right? I mean, my happiness isn't with her anymore. And hers isn't with me. Diana said so."
"Who's Diana?" he asked in confusion, knowing he'd missed something somewhere, but he wasn't sure what. "And does this mean you've decided to be naughty?" He couldn't stop the grin that stole up his face, smirking at her as he stood up and shed his jeans, not giving her time to stop him.
"Not naughty," she disagreed, letting her eyes stray ever so subtly to his erection, as if it was a scenic route on the way to other places. Only, her eyes never left it when they found it. "Being naughty implies wrongness, and there's nothing wrong with us having sex. We're adults. We're single. We're... obviously attracted to each other." Her eyes were still on him, unmoving, looking all contemplative and thoughtful.
"Up here," he teased, snapping his fingers in the air by his face. "Hello, I'm up here." His words echoed her own from earlier, and he was rather satisfied to be able to turn the tables on her a bit.
She blushed, closing her eyes in embarrassment as she dropped her face into the pillow with a groan. Poor, miserable thing. He should comfort her.
Usually, he'd stand proudly, displaying his rather decent-sized hard-on, but he didn't this time, choosing instead to be the gentleman he'd promised her he could be. Sitting on the bed beside her, he smoothed a hand down her back, doing his best to comfort her in her time of shame.
Leaning down, he placed a kiss on the nape of her neck. "Need another look, love? I could stand here a bit longer... I'll even pose if you'd like." He snickered his laughter against her skin when she only groaned louder.
"It's been a while," she said into the pillow, her voice muffled, her words almost indiscernible. She lifted her head slowly, biting her lip as she dragged her eyes to his face. "Since Oz. I mean, obviously there was Tara. And we did things." She grinned suddenly, her eyes losing focus as she fell into her memories.
"Did things," he repeated with a snort of laughter. "What, uh, what sort of things did you do? Come on, kiss and tell." His encouraging smile had her rolling her eyes.
"Stop making fun of me. I'm just saying, I haven't-- well we didn't... use things, it was all rather vanilla between us." Once again, her eyes lost focus and her smile turned sappy. "Like French Vanilla... with whip cream and cherries on top," she said absently. "And chocolate. With nuts." Her eyes darted quickly to his, narrowing, daring him to say anything. "You know what I mean."
He nodded sagely, not making a snide comment, like he wanted to. "So, no whips and chains. Right." Tilting his head to the side, he pretended to consider the situation. She was so naive and sweet at times. "I think I can do that." His grin turned lascivious, he couldn't help it, he was imagining her dressed in lots of leather. "Although, leather is a valid fashion choice."
She slapped his arm, harder than he thought necessary. "Hey, I'm being truthful here, and you're making fun of me." Sitting up under his semi-trapping hold, she glared his way. "I was gonna have sex with you. Was gonna let you do things to me--"
"Things," he mumbled, his imagination working overtime. "What sorts of things, love?" He reached out and tried to lift the sheet from her.
She crossed her arms over her sheet-clad chest, pouting at him. "You'll never know now. Nope," she assured him, "you lost your chance."
"Oh, hey now," he tried not to whine. "No need to get irritated, I was just playing with you." Seeing the grin working its way up her lips, he had to chuckle. "Now who's being evil?"
She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head sadly. "Men." Her eyes turned solemn again, her smile losing most of its steam. "Can we just go slow?" she asked, reaching out a hand to touch his leg. "I need some time to get used to--" her eyes widened, a stunned look crossing her face. "I just realized that... I'm going to have Spike with sex. I mean, I'm going to have sex with Spike. Wow."
"Never in a million years?" he wondered, watching her to make sure she was happy about it. Wouldn't do for her to be depressed about the thought of having her way with him.
She nodded almost frantically. "Pretty much. So... slow?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he answered, letting her hand explore his skin. She seemed content with just letting it rest there while her fingers traced circles, but he wanted more. "As much as I want to just lay you down and slide inside of you, to touch you..." he trailed off when her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Swallowing thickly, he had to close his eyes, to try to erase the image he suddenly had of her lips wrapped around him before continuing. "To have you moving underneath me, or on top of me. I want you, and I'll take it as slow as you want me to."
Her tongue slid between her lips, wetting them slowly. "Never in a million years?" she queried, looking a little confused, and a lot turned on.
He shook his head, slipping his hand behind her head to draw her closer. Just before his lips touched hers, he whispered, "I've thought about you before."
Her eyes flickered to his, half-closed, sliding shut as his lips touched lightly to hers. "Mm, I'll bet there was a lot of death and blood involved in those thoughts."
He shrugged a little, as if it was a given. "Mostly." She knew he was a vampire, so he was pretty sure she wouldn't be shocked by the admission. Touching his lips to the side of her mouth, he darted his tongue out, sliding it along her lip as he smiled naughtily. "You should've been inside my head while I was chained up in the Watcher's loo."
"Fantasies?" she asked in surprise, pulling back to stare at him. "About us? I mean, the good guys us. The Scoobies. Not... us, us. You and me, us."
He pulled away with a sigh, tired of all the interruptions keeping him from getting what he wanted, which was Willow. "About you. And a few about Buffy. Mostly, those involved me chaining her up and forcing her to eat something she hated for a few weeks."
Willow's lips twitched as she tried not to laugh. "Um... really?" she giggled, snorting with laughter despite her best efforts.
"Really," he mumbled, pressing his lips firmly to hers. The laughter died in her throat and the questions faded from her eyes as they slid shut.
Lips melded, tasting, touching. They breathed as one, moving their lips over each other's, exploring the now familiar flesh of one another's mouths.
Spike wanted so desperately to kiss her with all the force he could muster, which, being a vampire, was considerable, but he kept himself from doing that because he knew he'd hurt her.
She scooted closer to him, placing another hand on his calf, tracing small patterns on his skin. He tried to lift her up, encouraging her to move into his lap, but she resisted.
"Slow, remember?" she mumbled, opening her mouth fiercely on his, pulling herself nearer to him.
He didn't bother answering, since he'd have to pull away from her delicious mouth to do so. He'd prefer to keep his lips on hers, run his tongue over her teeth, slide her lip into his mouth to suck on the flesh, making her moan.
Slow was working just fine for him.
She placed a hand on the bed beside him, keeping her lips moving firmly on his as she raised up onto her knees. And then her mouth left his, leaving him extremely dissatisfied. Instead of allowing him more, she planted her other hand on the bed to the right of him.
Apparently it wasn't working for her anymore.
She groaned in frustration. "Slow is too slow."
He pulled back a ways to get a good look at her lust-filled eyes. Her face was flushed, her hair wild about her face, her skin heated with desire.
"Bloody gorgeous," he muttered, sliding a hand behind her head to draw her mouth down to his.
She leaned forward, kissing him lightly, just a teasing touch before pulling away again. He grinned and allowed her to push him back until he was lying on the bed with her poised above him.
She crawled over him like a predator, her eyes steady on his, her mouth dipping down to touch him, lick him, taste him wherever her eyes happened to land. He was enjoying this side of her. He'd assumed she'd be a kitten in bed.
Apparently she was more like a tiger, all grace and fluid movements.
Even her back arched like a cat's as she moved up his body, her eyes lighting on his with heat and promise; a promise of things to come. Once she was on his waist, she sat down, straddling him with a sigh. He could feel her skin against his, warm and soft, but muscular. She was strong, just as he'd known she would be.
And to finally have those legs wrapping around him-- he closed his eyes with a happy sigh, letting her have her way with him.
He felt her mouth touch his, but instead of a kiss, she took his lip between her teeth, as he'd done with hers, and sucked it into her mouth, nipping at it with her teeth as she splayed her body over his.
"Careful of your back," he warned her, sliding a hand down that very part of her body and lower, to her softly rounded behind. She pressed her hips down on his stomach, sliding backwards a little, leaving a wet trail as she searched for friction, but, judging by the frustrated sigh she emitted, she was disappointed.
He ran his hands over her back and thighs, caressing and touching, sliding and tracing patterns along the back of her body with eagerly exploring hands. He pressed her closer to him every chance he got, unable to get enough of touching her. Opening his eyes, he pulled her face down to his. Threading his fingers through her hair, he lightly brought her closer, touching his lips to hers.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scents, all of them. Desire, sweat, the smell of her skin, which was salty and sweet at the same time. He inhaled all of it before lowering her neck to his mouth. A small amount of fear seeped into the air around her, making him even harder. God, she was just... everything about her was turning him on, making him hard, spiraling around inside him.
Her skin beneath his lips was tangy. He slid his tongue out, moving his lips wider to suck on the flesh in preparation for biting her. His face changed, his eyes going wide as he realized what he was doing.
He shoved his face into her neck, hiding his vampire visage from her, hoping she hadn't noticed. The level of fear rising from her didn't go up, so he was sure she hadn't gotten an eyeful of ridges and fangs. Shoving the persona away, he concentrated on her hands, sliding down his shoulders and arms. One slid behind his head, encouraging him to... not bite her, not to taste her blood, but to taste her skin.
She moaned in disappointment when he pulled away from the enticing smell and feel of her neck. "I thought vampires were supposed to *like* necks," she complained, her laughing eyes finding his.
"Normally, yeah," he agreed, leaving his explanation at that. The feel of her weight on top of him was driving him wild. He wanted to be inside of her already. Had wanted that since before he'd reached her house. Did he ever not want to be inside her?
These days? No.
The Willow bot was his one saving grace, but now, not even that was enough. He had to have the real thing. All of her.
But what he wanted most, eluded him.
The sheet was still trapped between their bodies, keeping him from feeling her stomach and thighs, her breasts, everything he wanted to feel against his own skin. He minded that a great deal, though she didn't seem to.
She hooked her legs back behind her, beneath his, wrapping her feet under his calves. Sliding down a little, to where his erection was prominently displaying the sheet for all and sundry, she moved down until she came into contact with him.
"Oo," she breathed, her eyes flying to his when his hips jerked up. She tightened her thighs around his sheet-enshrouded erection, forcing a gasp from him.
"We'll just get rid of this," he mumbled, reaching between them to pull the sheet free.
She shook her head, not moving enough to allow him to move it. Her smile was eager and sexy, her eyes wide with lust. "Not yet."
Okay, he could play her games for a little while. But not long if his body had a say in it.
She moved again, sliding against him, lowering herself until she was splayed against him completely, shifting the sheet with every movement. It slid against the tip of him, the sides of him, every damn inch of his sensitive skin, forcing a gasp of discomfort and pleasure from his lips.
His fingers clutched tighter against her backside.
"Ooo, again," she gasped, making him smile lustily at her. "I think--" she began in a whisper, looking over her shoulder at the tent he was pitching. She cleared her throat and turned back to him with a cheesy grin. "I think someone's happy to see me."
Spike rolled his eyes and grinned just as wide as her. "I think someone was happy to see you before he even got here."
Her grin went from cheesy to sweet. "Ya know, I think I kinda like this new you... well, not new, probably," she amended, frowning thoughtfully, sitting up on him a little, depriving him of her body. "Probably just new 'cause I've never seen it. You're always grr-this and grr-that when you--"
He growled, pressing her back down against him, flattening her body along his. "Stay," he warned her when she tried to sit back up again.
"See? Just like that," she continued, giving up trying to move. She crossed her arms over his chest and rested her chin on them, smiling at him. "I think my happiness lies with you," she told him with a far away look, working through something in her mind. "She told me it wasn't with Tara anymore, so... makes sense, doesn't it?" She sighed, returning her gaze to him.
She leaned forward, pushing herself up so that she could kiss him.
Her mouth settled over his, but only for a second before trailing a path down his jaw and neck, leaving him unsatisfied with the quick kiss. She sat up a little, rocking against his hip, trying to get a little pleasure, but he could see it wasn't working. For him, on the other hand, it was working maybe too well.
The sheet slipped and slid around him, creating the oddest sensations on his body. The slightly rough fabric rubbed his sensitive skin the wrong way which was creating all the right sensations.
Her body was hot, warming him with each touch, every kiss. Her hands slid down his arms, scratching his skin, then raised up to his chest, scraping down there as well. He gasped, arching up again, wanting to be inside her. The sheet was hot, transferring her body heat to him. It was also wet in spots.
Her body was wet for him, ready for him to take her, but she wasn't taking that pleasure. Wasn't allowing him to either. She continued to rub herself on him, gasping when she managed to get a little friction going.
Lips descended to his, taking his mouth forcefully. He clenched his fingers into her flesh, holding her against his erection. His hips were arching more quickly now, seeking out the friction she was denying him, but finding it against the sheet and the elusive touch of her shrouded skin.
She panted on him, moving more quickly, lowering herself until she was able to slide completely along his body.
"Enough of the teasing," he ground out, thrusting into the air again, groaning in frustration when she moved away again. Enough was enough. He wanted her now, and he'd damn well have her. He wasn't going to allow himself to go off on the bloody sheet like a prepubescent boy having his first sexual experience.
She nodded, lifting herself enough to push the sheet from their chests and stomach, but that was all she did. She laid back down, pressing her soft, warm skin against his own, flattening her breasts on his chest with a sigh. Her teeth lowered to his lip again, biting and tugging it into her mouth as he attempted to lift her high enough to free the rest of the sheet, but she wouldn't let him.
"Use your imagination, Spike."
He didn't need imagination, he had Willow, and she was everything he craved. But she wasn't letting him have it. She trailed her lips down, shifting against his erection again, forcing him to grab her arms and hold her still.
The sheet was dragged against the tip of him and along the side while one of her legs brushed him, pressing down. His hips jerked up again and he came, desperately trying to get the sheet free and slide inside her. It didn't happen though and he ended up dirtying her sheets anyway, trying to calm his bucking hips beneath her.
She groaned in frustration, sliding herself along his sheet-covered thigh, gaining no pleasure for herself.
He felt her body sliding against his as he started to recover. Not wanting to leave her unsatisfied, he grabbed her arms and sat up, turning with her in his lap. "Grab the headboard," he told her, lying back as she frowned at him. He threaded his hands through her hair, smoothing the sweaty strands from her face, motioning for her to grab the headboard.
"Why?" she asked suspiciously, crawling hesitantly up his body. Her knees landed just outside his torso as she slowly moved up to his chest, but then she stopped, looking down at him in embarrassment.
He slid his hands down her thighs, which were on either side of his chest. The smell she was giving off made his nostrils flare. The heat and moistness seeping into his skin from between her legs was the most erotic thing he'd ever felt. He'd never had a human like this. Lifting his head a bit, he kissed the inside of her right thigh, darting his tongue out to taste her, but she wasn't close enough yet.
"I want to taste you, Willow. More than anything, I want to feel you." He scooted his hands beneath her and gave her a little push.
Her arms raised slowly and her hands closed around the wrought iron headboard, gripping and un-gripping it a few times as she waited, biting her lip. "Are-- are you sure you want to--"
He raised an incredulous eyebrow at her, unable to believe she had to ask.
She swallowed, moving higher on the bed, even with his head. "And this, Willow, is at the top of the list of things you never thought you'd be doing," she mumbled to herself.
He chuckled, grabbing her left leg and hooking it over his head, looking up at what he'd been denied. "Hang on," he said hoarsely, feeling her warm legs tighten and then loosen as she hung in midair, kneeling stiffly above him.
She eeped and squirmed around, but didn't move away, just looked down at him.
"Open," he whispered, closing his eyes at the smell wafting to him from so close. All he had to do was slide a finger in, she was right there, waiting for his touch, trusting him not to hurt her. But he wanted to taste her first.
He opened his eyes, which he was sure were flickering from human to demon, and growled low in his throat.
She spread her legs further apart, still waiting. Waiting for the pleasure he was promising her with his eyes.
Sliding his hands back up her thighs, he slid them around to the inside, teasing and touching lightly, drawing little patterns on her flesh until he reached her hips and drew her down to his mouth.
At the first touch of his tongue on her, she gasped and jerked up. "And again that scary part comes into it," she whispered as she lowered herself down to his mouth again. She swallowed, relaxing over him as his tongue slid inside of her.
"I won't hurt you," he told her before sliding his tongue deeper into her wet heat. She shuddered, quivering over him, stiffening up as he tried to press her lower, giving him better access. "Relax."
"Little hard to do..." she panted, pressing down as he thrust his tongue inside her. His lips worked against hers, his tongue tracing the outside of her, tasting her essence, tasting what she was.
He wondered if there was magick in there. In every part of her body, in every pore, droplet of sweat, and in the hot moist center of her. His arms hooked around her thighs, pulling her closer, spreading her wide with his fingers. Her skin was soft on her thighs, rough inside her, and he was getting hard again. She smelled and tasted so good.
He licked her and then slid a finger inside, opening her even more, flicking against her clit.
She shuddered again, grinding down on him rhythmically, sitting lower with each thrust. "This is so wrong," she bit out, tightening her muscles on his finger and tongue. "So very-- oh God," she gasped, her panting growing louder.
He darted a glance toward the door, keeping an ear out for approaching voices, steps, or heartbeats. All remained silent as far as he could tell, but Willow was getting louder with each breath.
"Shh," he chuckled, flicking his tongue over her clit. "Don't want guests right now, do we?"
"No," she ground out, "no, God no! We don't," she practically yelled, pressing herself fully down on his mouth.
He lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her cries of ecstasy. He slid a finger inside her mouth to suck on at the same time as he slid his tongue deeper inside her, lapping at the delicious taste of her.
She bit down on his finger, forcing a growl of pain from him as well as a moan of his own kind of ecstasy. It hurt, but felt so good, so right.
She sucked on his finger as she thrust her hips against his mouth, moaning and crying out, but in a much more muffled manner. Seconds later, she threw her head back and screamed around his finger as she came.
He sucked on her flesh as much as she sucked on his, flicking her clit a few times with the tip of his tongue. She tasted so bloody good. So heavenly.
She shuddered on him, relaxing into his mouth. Her hips jerked a few times as he blew on her, teasing her with his tongue.
Her muscles clenched around his tongue, her teeth scraping against his finger as he pulled it free.
She sank bonelessly to the wall, knocking the headboard against it once or twice. He lifted her up, drawing her down beside him, tucking her against his side. Her breath left her in a rush as she snuggled back against him.
"Mm, that was... wow and stuff," she mumbled tiredly, scooting back even further.
He was hard again. And still wanting to be inside of her. Sliding his hand down her side, he lifted her leg behind her, setting it on his as she sighed in contentment. "Please," he mumbled, playing the gentleman as he leaned forward, whispering in her ear, "can I have some more?"
"More?" she yawned, covering her mouth with her hand before letting it drop to the bed in front of her. "Already?"
"Vamp recovery time is faster than a human's." He thrust his hips forward a little, letting her feel his erection against her entrance.
She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling crookedly. "Wanna share some of that vamp recovery time stuff?"
He moved forward, kissing her lips lightly as he slid inside her body with a groan of pure pleasure, finally sheathing himself in her heat. "God," he ground out, feeling her tighten around him. He draped an arm around her waist, hauling her back against him, moving deeper into her as she pressed back with her hips. Careful not to jostle her back, he slowly and carefully moved inside her, building her pleasure as well as his own.
She was hot and wet, her muscles clenching around him. A few mewling sounds came from her as he slid his hand down and caressed her clit. Her hand reached back to grab his leg, clutching it tightly as she began to move faster against him. Her voice rose again, but this time, instead of sucking on his finger, she turned her head into the pillow, muffling her moans and whimpers, and eventually her scream as she came.
He lifted her leg higher, sheathing himself further inside her body, thrusting harder and faster with each stroke. The feel of her body tightening around him pushed him over the edge and he followed her into orgasm, groaning into her neck.
She relaxed against him, sighing as she loosened her hand on his leg. His hand loosened from her waist, raising to trace patterns along her stomach. He pressed a kiss on her neck, pulling her tighter against him.
TITLE: Order Now (14/?)
AUTHOR: sinecure
RATED: R
DISCLAIMER: Joss and ME own BtVS, I don't, and the way these past seasons are going, I'm glad I don't.
DEDICATED: To Claudia, because, not only is she the best beta ever, but she's also quite the friend. She kicks ass on grammar--just call her the Hyphen Queen, I do--spelling, characterization, plot. She makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier... even when she's killing my poor little defenseless plot-babies.
PART 14
Spike sat on the bed with a groan, trying to hide his sudden stunned realization from Willow. She didn't need to know how far gone he was. Not now.
There'd be plenty of time for that later.
He closed his eyes with a sigh, hating the un-beating piece of muscle in his chest, constantly getting him into one heartbreaking situation after another. His life was filled with pain caused by the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself from caring so bloody much for people.
Cecily, his mother, Dru... Buffy. And now Willow. Would it ever stop? More importantly, would he ever find someone willing to care for him just as much as he cared for them?
"So..." Willow said awkwardly, not noticing his sudden mood change. She shifted on the bed, sitting beside him, glancing toward him quickly before looking away again. "Now what?"
"Hmm?" His mind wasn't on the woman beside him anymore, it was on his future with the woman beside him. Did they have a future together? It'd be nice if they did, but he knew for a fact that nothing in life was a sure bet.
"Spike?" She nudged his shoulder with her own, and then waved her hand in front of his face. "Hello?" When he snapped out of his reverie, she grew more nervous. "Or, maybe there is no 'now what?'. Maybe you wanted to leave when I stopped you, and then I stopped you, and you didn't leave, and now you want to. So, you should. If-- uh, if you want to." She cleared her throat, scooting a few inches away from him. "Do you want to?"
"No," he told her, clearing his throat as well as his thoughts. "I was just thinking. I do that occasionally. Got brains and all." He frowned at the bed behind him. "Uh, lie down."
She lost the nervous, babbling routine real quick, and raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don't think so," she scoffed, snorting a few times too.
"Relax," he chuckled, reaching behind him for the jar of salve. It was hiding under the corner of the blanket on the far side of the bed, making him work to get it. "I'm just gonna rub some of this--aha," he grabbed the jar and straightened up, tossing it into the air and catching it, "smelly rubbish on you."
She scooted back on the bed with a stern look at him, making sure he understood that's all they'd be doing as she rolled over to lie on her stomach. "You know just what to say to make my heart go pitter-patter, Spike."
"It's a gift," he muttered, opening the jar as he climbed on the bed, straddling her waist lightly. Pushing the sheet aside, baring her back to his gaze, he ran his salve-free hand down her side. "So you told Buffy?" After last night's argument, he was sure she wouldn't be telling anyone anything ever. At least nothing having to do with him. "What'd she say?"
Willow sighed, shifting underneath him a little as he started to rub the stinky gunk onto her skin. "Buffy's a skeptical kind of person," she told him, defending Buffy, which only served to annoy him more. "She can't help that she doesn't always believe things right away." She shivered when he slid his left hand down to her waist, and then a little lower, sliding around to the front. "Hands," she chastised, waiting until he'd returned to her back before continuing. "And she had good reason to be skeptical with you it turns out." She glanced back at him, shrugging. "I mean, you said you were in love with her, and now you say you're not."
"Not my fault," he muttered, sliding both hands to the front, cupping her breasts despite her attempts to wriggle free of his touch. "It felt like love."
She cleared her throat loudly, pointedly. "Hands, Spike, they seem to have wandered." She sucked in a breath, fighting the way her body was reacting to him, trying to calm her breathing, to not be affected by him. She was losing miserably.
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples a few times before retreating again. She was getting aroused, he could smell her, feel the difference in her body heat. Her heart was speeding up, her breathing becoming erratic. She wanted him.
Once his hands moved to her back again, she drew in a deep breath and relaxed as much as her tightly-strung body could with him this close. "How do you know it isn't love?" she asked, turning to look over her shoulder at him. "You thought it was, mistook it for love, so how do you know it's not?"
He followed the movements of his hands with his eyes as he splayed his fingers down again, across her stomach. He was wondering just how much he should tell her, how much she could be told before he scared her away. So long as she didn't laugh or ridicule him, he thought he was pretty well off. And since honesty was something that was lacking tonight, aside from a few half-truths and bent facts, he decided to tell her the truth.
"Because I'm remembering what real love feels like." Raising his eyes to hers, he slid his hands further down, avoiding where she wanted to be touched, sliding them down the front of her thighs instead.
She stared back at him for a second, looking like she didn't quite comprehend his words, but then she got it and her eyes widened. "Oh." She frowned, still staring back at him, not exactly sure how to respond to his partial declaration, so she just added another, "Oh," and turned to face the headboard again.
Safer territory. Better to stare at a wall than respond to a vampire who'd just told her he was falling in love with her.
He'd probably do the same thing, he thought with a sigh.
Sitting up, he dropped his hands to her legs, resting them there while he contemplated leaving again. No response from her probably meant she didn't feel the same way, and wasn't starting to. Yeah, leaving would be best about now.
He shifted on the bed, climbing off of her legs as he prepared to stand up, but she turned around suddenly, sitting up and gripping his wrists.
"Me too," she admitted, tightening her hands on his wrists until it became almost painful. "I think I'm starting to remember that feeling too."
He exhaled shortly, staring at her hands on his wrists, not allowing the joy he felt to show through quite yet. That she felt something for him was enough for now. It was enough. He drew in a deep breath, smiling at her, but she didn't notice, she was still looking down at the bed.
"And, though it's different this time, it's nice." Her eyes darted up to his before planting themselves right back onto the bed. "It's... I like this. It's--"
"Nice?" he ventured, ducking his head to catch her eye.
She nodded, tightening her hands even more. "Yeah. And scary." She finally realized she was still gripping his wrists and released them with a surprised grunt. "Sorry. Good thing you're a vampire," she chuckled, fidgeting with the sheet, straightening it over her chest, smoothing it out over her legs.
Standing up, keeping his eyes on the top of her bowed head, he stripped his shirt off again, dropping it to the floor beside the bed.
Her head raised up, her eyes showing her amusement. "You just don't give up, do you?"
He shook his head, lowering his hands to the waistband of his jeans, intending to strip them off before remembering he was going to tease her a bit. Get her used to the idea of the two of them dirtying up the bed.
Her eyes dropped to his hands, waiting, but she was about to be disappointed.
He put one knee on the edge of the bed, leaning down to her long enough to plant a kiss on her lips.
"Mm," she mumbled, closing her eyes as he continued to move his lips over hers. After a minute, she pushed him away, breathless and panting. She stared at his chest as she tried to catch her breath.
"See anything you like?" he asked, tucking his tongue behind his teeth to keep from laughing at the blush creeping up her cheeks.
Three times in one night, had to be a record.
"Not really," she answered thoughtfully, smiling up at him. "Seen one blonde god, you've seen 'em all," she said in dismissal, shrugging her naked shoulders.
Spike burst out laughing, wondering if she'd been talking to his robot. "Ain't that the truth?" he agreed, running his eyes over her colorful back. "I'm starting to prefer red anyway. And black and blue mixed in with a little green and yellow." He raised his eyes to her hair, taking it in, sliding a hand down the red strands. "Yeah, red's more my thing these days."
She sighed contentedly, rolling over and lying down, snuggling into the mattress.
She was in the middle of the bed on her stomach, covered only to the small of her back. The rest of her was open to his eyes.
Crawling across the bed to her, he gently straddled her thighs, moving up a bit to be able to reach all of her. The jar of stinky salve was dropped to the bed in favor of him running his hands along her skin again.
She shifted underneath him, anticipating the first touch of his hands on her back, expecting more of the cold wet salve. What she got was strong, cool hands caressing her lower back. He spanned his hands along her back, covering the mottled bruising that had her whole back looking like an abstract painting.
Trailing his fingers along her sides, he watched her skin shift and move with each breath she took. His fingers slid along the sides of her breasts again, and she drew in a breath, making the skin stretch taut.
He leaned over her, not pressing against her, but close enough to become a few degrees warmer. "How badly does it hurt?" he asked, running his hands up her back with a little pressure.
"Ow," she mumbled, turning her face into the pillow with a gasp. "Kind of badly." Her voice was pain-filled, her back collecting a fine sheen of sweat as she panted. Both pain and desire were fighting for dominance, and he took pity on her.
"More stinky salve to the rescue," he said with a chuckle, hiding his frown from her. The fact that she was still this sore and filled with pain had him worried. She was hurting and he didn't like that. He wanted her to be pain-free and worry-free, to be walking around without a care in the world except whether or not he intended to make love to her once, or more, that night.
"Oh, yay," she said, "more Eau De Sewers." She turned her head to the left, sighing softly as she pushed herself onto her elbows. "Spike...?" trailing off, she glanced over her shoulder at him, then straight in front of her again. "Thank you. I mean, you know, for being so nice to me af-- after last night."
He unscrewed the lid on the jar of salve, dipping a few of the fingers of his left hand into the goopy stuff. "Well, I can't really help it," he muttered, "because you really, really turn me on. You get me hotter than a griddle during a pancake cook-off."
"Pancake cook-off?" she repeated, snorting with laughter.
Of course she focused on that part of his comment, completely ignoring the compliment he'd paid her.
He shrugged lightly, chuckling at her. "They've got chili cook-offs, why not a pancake one?" He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm up the salve, sending up a smell like the sewers of a zoo. "God, this stuff seems to get more disgusting each time I use it."
Shifting a little to get into a better position on her thighs, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck before sliding his hands along the bruising below.
"Oh, hey," she gasped, wriggling underneath him, "that feels good." She glared at him over her shoulder, her stern voice making him laugh all the more. "And you're so not playing fair."
"If that's how you react to a repulsive-smelling salve, I can't wait to see how you respond to me." Her skin heated again, turning the pale flesh of her neck and face pink. She was sexy when she blushed.
"You know that's-- wait. What? No," she denied, trying to sit up and turn to face him at the same time. He held her still, keeping her from moving anything more than her head. "There'll be no responding to anyone or anything. Not tonight. There's too much--"
He leaned down again, kissing her shoulder blades one at a time, then smoothed his hands over them.
"Cheater." She closed her eyes with a moan, shivering underneath his hands. Another moan escaped her as he rubbed gently along her neck and shoulders.
Spike fought the urge to strip off his jeans and take her right then and there, any way he wanted to. She wasn't his bot, and she was already hurt, so he had to be gentle with her, but it was hard. He was hard. Harder than flippin' concrete, he thought with a groan.
He finished spreading the salve, raining a trail of kisses along the salve-free parts of her neck. Wasn't long before he needed to seek relief or die trying. He climbed off of her and headed into the bathroom.
She frowned at him, opening her mouth to-- protest? Or encourage him to leave?
"Gotta wash this gunk off my hands." He stopped in the bathroom doorway, running his eyes over her, feeling his own body heating up with every inch he took in. Left silent was the part where he needed clean hands to touch her everywhere he intended to touch her.
"Oh. Yeah, you should probably do that." She laid her head back down on the pillow, closing her eyes.
He dashed into the bathroom, slowly, of course, and hurriedly washed off all the salve, needing to use soap three times before the greasy feel of it left him, along with the smell. Drying his hands off he glanced idly around for lotion. He didn't want to touch her with dry, papery-feeling hands.
"If you want some lotion," she called to him as he entered the bedroom again, "um, I think there's some on the table over there." She gestured behind her.
Was she reading his bloody mind? He scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes, pretending he had no intention of grabbing it as soon as possible. "I'm a vampire, love. What use would I have for lotion?" He sat on the bed, running his eyes over her, following some of the trails his eyes took with his hands.
"Then I'd think you'd need it even more," she said reasonably. "Dead skin and all that." She shrugged a little, moving less stiffly than before, but obviously still sore.
"Hmm," he muttered, taking in every freckle and mark on her. "Shows how much you know." God, she was beautiful. The bot was an exact replica of her in every way, except freckles. And moles. Scars. Anything and everything that marked skin was missing from the bot, and he liked that the real Willow had all that. Made her feel more real to him, as if she wasn't already more real than anyone he'd ever wanted.
But, before he touched her too much, he did need some lotion on his dry hands. He stood up with a heavy sigh and skirted the bed, moving gratefully toward the vanity table. "If you want me to use some, I'll use some. It won't kill me, I guess." He squinted at all the bottles and tubes of things, reaching for the only one resembling a lotion bottle and raised it high enough to read. "I just better not start smelling of perfumy things." But the lotion wasn't perfume-scented. He lifted an eyebrow, staring at her back. Vanilla.
Could this be where one of those unique smells was coming from? He uncapped the bottle, taking a deep whiff of it, pulling it away from him almost immediately. This wasn't it at all. The smell was completely different.
"You won't," she told him, amusement evident in her voice. "I don't like perfumy things." She opened her eyes, watching him. "But it'd serve you right if you did."
He looked up at her innocently as he tipped the lotion up, dumping a small amount of the thick liquid into his palm. He quickly recapped the bottle, setting it back in its place on the table. He rubbed the lotion into his hands with relief, and skirted around the bed again. "Here now, no need to get evil," he told her, grinning at the rolled eyes she sent his way.
"Please," she scoffed, not buying the innocence one bit. "You came over here with the express purpose of trying to get me into bed. *I'm* not the one who's evil in this room."
Well, she had him there. He shrugged as he stood over her, grinning and clapping his hands once loudly, before rubbing them together eagerly. "So! All ready to have sex?"
She snorted with laughter, her amused eyes landing on his. "Oh, yeah, primed and ready to go. See me going?" She settled more comfortably into the mattress, smiling in contentment.
"I see you going..." he admitted, sitting on the bed as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Going at it all night. With me, of course."
She raised an eyebrow at him, looking very much the haughty lady. "Of course. But it's probably not going-- I mean, it's not going to happen. Definitely not going to. 'Cause... well, you're going to be a gentleman."
He shook his head, staying right where he was. He had no intention of leaving until sex was had. With Willow. The real Willow. He smiled and leaned down, kissing her cheek softly, just on the outside of her lips. "I can be a gentleman, Willow." He slid a hand down her shoulder and arm, settling it on her waist. "When I make love to you, I'll say 'please' and 'thank you' and 'can I have some more?'. You know," he said absently, "this body of yours is perfect..."
"Oh," she accused, "you're a peeker! You're so busted." Her eyebrows drew together in a frown, her lips pursing in anger.
"Guilty," he admitted, glancing briefly up at her face before returning his attention to his hand on her hip. She shivered, squirming when he touched a ticklish spot.
"No tickling," she warned him, turning as she sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest. "I mean it. I get violent when I'm tickled. I don't like it." She stared at him, waiting for him to agree.
He held his hands up innocently, chuckling at the threatening look she tossed him. Apparently tickling wasn't one of her favorite past-times. "All right, agreed. No tickling. Is there a story there... or...?"
"Yeah. I don't like being tickled, end of story." She laid back down, watching him closely, making sure he didn't dart a hand out, one that was intent on tickling the bejesus out of her.
"No tickling," he promised, smoothing her hair behind her ear, tucking it there with his thumb. "But I can't promise there won't be touching." Her eyes stayed steady on his, not moving away nervously, searching for something other than him to look at. "Because there's going to be touching. Lots of it."
She sighed in a put-upon way, looking like he'd just taken all the fight out of her and knocked down her resolve. "Touching is... good, I like touching. But, I'm sore. And you're..."
"Turned on to the point of embarrassing myself at the first touch of your hands on my oh-so-hot body?" The smile on his face turned rueful. She thought he was kidding.
She chuckled softly. "Well, I was gonna say, 'you're in a house full of people who aren't real fond of you at the moment.' but yours works too." She looked away, lifting a hand to free the hair he'd tucked behind her ear as she contemplated his words. "Are you really?"
Instead of answering, he stood up, raising an eyebrow at her. Her eyes lowered slowly to the bulge in his jeans, and then jumped back up to his face with an exhaled breath.
"Men got it hard, love--"
She burst out laughing at his poor choice of words, silencing her snickers with her hand. Her amused eyes flittered back down to his jeans, unbuckled and partially undone. The amusement faded away, replaced by a lingering fire that burned inside her. "You know," she said quietly, "maybe it wouldn't be a horrible thing to... well, we can have--" her eyes raised to his, her look almost pleading with him to agree. "Sex between us wouldn't be wrong, per se, right? I mean, my happiness isn't with her anymore. And hers isn't with me. Diana said so."
"Who's Diana?" he asked in confusion, knowing he'd missed something somewhere, but he wasn't sure what. "And does this mean you've decided to be naughty?" He couldn't stop the grin that stole up his face, smirking at her as he stood up and shed his jeans, not giving her time to stop him.
"Not naughty," she disagreed, letting her eyes stray ever so subtly to his erection, as if it was a scenic route on the way to other places. Only, her eyes never left it when they found it. "Being naughty implies wrongness, and there's nothing wrong with us having sex. We're adults. We're single. We're... obviously attracted to each other." Her eyes were still on him, unmoving, looking all contemplative and thoughtful.
"Up here," he teased, snapping his fingers in the air by his face. "Hello, I'm up here." His words echoed her own from earlier, and he was rather satisfied to be able to turn the tables on her a bit.
She blushed, closing her eyes in embarrassment as she dropped her face into the pillow with a groan. Poor, miserable thing. He should comfort her.
Usually, he'd stand proudly, displaying his rather decent-sized hard-on, but he didn't this time, choosing instead to be the gentleman he'd promised her he could be. Sitting on the bed beside her, he smoothed a hand down her back, doing his best to comfort her in her time of shame.
Leaning down, he placed a kiss on the nape of her neck. "Need another look, love? I could stand here a bit longer... I'll even pose if you'd like." He snickered his laughter against her skin when she only groaned louder.
"It's been a while," she said into the pillow, her voice muffled, her words almost indiscernible. She lifted her head slowly, biting her lip as she dragged her eyes to his face. "Since Oz. I mean, obviously there was Tara. And we did things." She grinned suddenly, her eyes losing focus as she fell into her memories.
"Did things," he repeated with a snort of laughter. "What, uh, what sort of things did you do? Come on, kiss and tell." His encouraging smile had her rolling her eyes.
"Stop making fun of me. I'm just saying, I haven't-- well we didn't... use things, it was all rather vanilla between us." Once again, her eyes lost focus and her smile turned sappy. "Like French Vanilla... with whip cream and cherries on top," she said absently. "And chocolate. With nuts." Her eyes darted quickly to his, narrowing, daring him to say anything. "You know what I mean."
He nodded sagely, not making a snide comment, like he wanted to. "So, no whips and chains. Right." Tilting his head to the side, he pretended to consider the situation. She was so naive and sweet at times. "I think I can do that." His grin turned lascivious, he couldn't help it, he was imagining her dressed in lots of leather. "Although, leather is a valid fashion choice."
She slapped his arm, harder than he thought necessary. "Hey, I'm being truthful here, and you're making fun of me." Sitting up under his semi-trapping hold, she glared his way. "I was gonna have sex with you. Was gonna let you do things to me--"
"Things," he mumbled, his imagination working overtime. "What sorts of things, love?" He reached out and tried to lift the sheet from her.
She crossed her arms over her sheet-clad chest, pouting at him. "You'll never know now. Nope," she assured him, "you lost your chance."
"Oh, hey now," he tried not to whine. "No need to get irritated, I was just playing with you." Seeing the grin working its way up her lips, he had to chuckle. "Now who's being evil?"
She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head sadly. "Men." Her eyes turned solemn again, her smile losing most of its steam. "Can we just go slow?" she asked, reaching out a hand to touch his leg. "I need some time to get used to--" her eyes widened, a stunned look crossing her face. "I just realized that... I'm going to have Spike with sex. I mean, I'm going to have sex with Spike. Wow."
"Never in a million years?" he wondered, watching her to make sure she was happy about it. Wouldn't do for her to be depressed about the thought of having her way with him.
She nodded almost frantically. "Pretty much. So... slow?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he answered, letting her hand explore his skin. She seemed content with just letting it rest there while her fingers traced circles, but he wanted more. "As much as I want to just lay you down and slide inside of you, to touch you..." he trailed off when her tongue darted out to lick her lips. Swallowing thickly, he had to close his eyes, to try to erase the image he suddenly had of her lips wrapped around him before continuing. "To have you moving underneath me, or on top of me. I want you, and I'll take it as slow as you want me to."
Her tongue slid between her lips, wetting them slowly. "Never in a million years?" she queried, looking a little confused, and a lot turned on.
He shook his head, slipping his hand behind her head to draw her closer. Just before his lips touched hers, he whispered, "I've thought about you before."
Her eyes flickered to his, half-closed, sliding shut as his lips touched lightly to hers. "Mm, I'll bet there was a lot of death and blood involved in those thoughts."
He shrugged a little, as if it was a given. "Mostly." She knew he was a vampire, so he was pretty sure she wouldn't be shocked by the admission. Touching his lips to the side of her mouth, he darted his tongue out, sliding it along her lip as he smiled naughtily. "You should've been inside my head while I was chained up in the Watcher's loo."
"Fantasies?" she asked in surprise, pulling back to stare at him. "About us? I mean, the good guys us. The Scoobies. Not... us, us. You and me, us."
He pulled away with a sigh, tired of all the interruptions keeping him from getting what he wanted, which was Willow. "About you. And a few about Buffy. Mostly, those involved me chaining her up and forcing her to eat something she hated for a few weeks."
Willow's lips twitched as she tried not to laugh. "Um... really?" she giggled, snorting with laughter despite her best efforts.
"Really," he mumbled, pressing his lips firmly to hers. The laughter died in her throat and the questions faded from her eyes as they slid shut.
Lips melded, tasting, touching. They breathed as one, moving their lips over each other's, exploring the now familiar flesh of one another's mouths.
Spike wanted so desperately to kiss her with all the force he could muster, which, being a vampire, was considerable, but he kept himself from doing that because he knew he'd hurt her.
She scooted closer to him, placing another hand on his calf, tracing small patterns on his skin. He tried to lift her up, encouraging her to move into his lap, but she resisted.
"Slow, remember?" she mumbled, opening her mouth fiercely on his, pulling herself nearer to him.
He didn't bother answering, since he'd have to pull away from her delicious mouth to do so. He'd prefer to keep his lips on hers, run his tongue over her teeth, slide her lip into his mouth to suck on the flesh, making her moan.
Slow was working just fine for him.
She placed a hand on the bed beside him, keeping her lips moving firmly on his as she raised up onto her knees. And then her mouth left his, leaving him extremely dissatisfied. Instead of allowing him more, she planted her other hand on the bed to the right of him.
Apparently it wasn't working for her anymore.
She groaned in frustration. "Slow is too slow."
He pulled back a ways to get a good look at her lust-filled eyes. Her face was flushed, her hair wild about her face, her skin heated with desire.
"Bloody gorgeous," he muttered, sliding a hand behind her head to draw her mouth down to his.
She leaned forward, kissing him lightly, just a teasing touch before pulling away again. He grinned and allowed her to push him back until he was lying on the bed with her poised above him.
She crawled over him like a predator, her eyes steady on his, her mouth dipping down to touch him, lick him, taste him wherever her eyes happened to land. He was enjoying this side of her. He'd assumed she'd be a kitten in bed.
Apparently she was more like a tiger, all grace and fluid movements.
Even her back arched like a cat's as she moved up his body, her eyes lighting on his with heat and promise; a promise of things to come. Once she was on his waist, she sat down, straddling him with a sigh. He could feel her skin against his, warm and soft, but muscular. She was strong, just as he'd known she would be.
And to finally have those legs wrapping around him-- he closed his eyes with a happy sigh, letting her have her way with him.
He felt her mouth touch his, but instead of a kiss, she took his lip between her teeth, as he'd done with hers, and sucked it into her mouth, nipping at it with her teeth as she splayed her body over his.
"Careful of your back," he warned her, sliding a hand down that very part of her body and lower, to her softly rounded behind. She pressed her hips down on his stomach, sliding backwards a little, leaving a wet trail as she searched for friction, but, judging by the frustrated sigh she emitted, she was disappointed.
He ran his hands over her back and thighs, caressing and touching, sliding and tracing patterns along the back of her body with eagerly exploring hands. He pressed her closer to him every chance he got, unable to get enough of touching her. Opening his eyes, he pulled her face down to his. Threading his fingers through her hair, he lightly brought her closer, touching his lips to hers.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scents, all of them. Desire, sweat, the smell of her skin, which was salty and sweet at the same time. He inhaled all of it before lowering her neck to his mouth. A small amount of fear seeped into the air around her, making him even harder. God, she was just... everything about her was turning him on, making him hard, spiraling around inside him.
Her skin beneath his lips was tangy. He slid his tongue out, moving his lips wider to suck on the flesh in preparation for biting her. His face changed, his eyes going wide as he realized what he was doing.
He shoved his face into her neck, hiding his vampire visage from her, hoping she hadn't noticed. The level of fear rising from her didn't go up, so he was sure she hadn't gotten an eyeful of ridges and fangs. Shoving the persona away, he concentrated on her hands, sliding down his shoulders and arms. One slid behind his head, encouraging him to... not bite her, not to taste her blood, but to taste her skin.
She moaned in disappointment when he pulled away from the enticing smell and feel of her neck. "I thought vampires were supposed to *like* necks," she complained, her laughing eyes finding his.
"Normally, yeah," he agreed, leaving his explanation at that. The feel of her weight on top of him was driving him wild. He wanted to be inside of her already. Had wanted that since before he'd reached her house. Did he ever not want to be inside her?
These days? No.
The Willow bot was his one saving grace, but now, not even that was enough. He had to have the real thing. All of her.
But what he wanted most, eluded him.
The sheet was still trapped between their bodies, keeping him from feeling her stomach and thighs, her breasts, everything he wanted to feel against his own skin. He minded that a great deal, though she didn't seem to.
She hooked her legs back behind her, beneath his, wrapping her feet under his calves. Sliding down a little, to where his erection was prominently displaying the sheet for all and sundry, she moved down until she came into contact with him.
"Oo," she breathed, her eyes flying to his when his hips jerked up. She tightened her thighs around his sheet-enshrouded erection, forcing a gasp from him.
"We'll just get rid of this," he mumbled, reaching between them to pull the sheet free.
She shook her head, not moving enough to allow him to move it. Her smile was eager and sexy, her eyes wide with lust. "Not yet."
Okay, he could play her games for a little while. But not long if his body had a say in it.
She moved again, sliding against him, lowering herself until she was splayed against him completely, shifting the sheet with every movement. It slid against the tip of him, the sides of him, every damn inch of his sensitive skin, forcing a gasp of discomfort and pleasure from his lips.
His fingers clutched tighter against her backside.
"Ooo, again," she gasped, making him smile lustily at her. "I think--" she began in a whisper, looking over her shoulder at the tent he was pitching. She cleared her throat and turned back to him with a cheesy grin. "I think someone's happy to see me."
Spike rolled his eyes and grinned just as wide as her. "I think someone was happy to see you before he even got here."
Her grin went from cheesy to sweet. "Ya know, I think I kinda like this new you... well, not new, probably," she amended, frowning thoughtfully, sitting up on him a little, depriving him of her body. "Probably just new 'cause I've never seen it. You're always grr-this and grr-that when you--"
He growled, pressing her back down against him, flattening her body along his. "Stay," he warned her when she tried to sit back up again.
"See? Just like that," she continued, giving up trying to move. She crossed her arms over his chest and rested her chin on them, smiling at him. "I think my happiness lies with you," she told him with a far away look, working through something in her mind. "She told me it wasn't with Tara anymore, so... makes sense, doesn't it?" She sighed, returning her gaze to him.
She leaned forward, pushing herself up so that she could kiss him.
Her mouth settled over his, but only for a second before trailing a path down his jaw and neck, leaving him unsatisfied with the quick kiss. She sat up a little, rocking against his hip, trying to get a little pleasure, but he could see it wasn't working. For him, on the other hand, it was working maybe too well.
The sheet slipped and slid around him, creating the oddest sensations on his body. The slightly rough fabric rubbed his sensitive skin the wrong way which was creating all the right sensations.
Her body was hot, warming him with each touch, every kiss. Her hands slid down his arms, scratching his skin, then raised up to his chest, scraping down there as well. He gasped, arching up again, wanting to be inside her. The sheet was hot, transferring her body heat to him. It was also wet in spots.
Her body was wet for him, ready for him to take her, but she wasn't taking that pleasure. Wasn't allowing him to either. She continued to rub herself on him, gasping when she managed to get a little friction going.
Lips descended to his, taking his mouth forcefully. He clenched his fingers into her flesh, holding her against his erection. His hips were arching more quickly now, seeking out the friction she was denying him, but finding it against the sheet and the elusive touch of her shrouded skin.
She panted on him, moving more quickly, lowering herself until she was able to slide completely along his body.
"Enough of the teasing," he ground out, thrusting into the air again, groaning in frustration when she moved away again. Enough was enough. He wanted her now, and he'd damn well have her. He wasn't going to allow himself to go off on the bloody sheet like a prepubescent boy having his first sexual experience.
She nodded, lifting herself enough to push the sheet from their chests and stomach, but that was all she did. She laid back down, pressing her soft, warm skin against his own, flattening her breasts on his chest with a sigh. Her teeth lowered to his lip again, biting and tugging it into her mouth as he attempted to lift her high enough to free the rest of the sheet, but she wouldn't let him.
"Use your imagination, Spike."
He didn't need imagination, he had Willow, and she was everything he craved. But she wasn't letting him have it. She trailed her lips down, shifting against his erection again, forcing him to grab her arms and hold her still.
The sheet was dragged against the tip of him and along the side while one of her legs brushed him, pressing down. His hips jerked up again and he came, desperately trying to get the sheet free and slide inside her. It didn't happen though and he ended up dirtying her sheets anyway, trying to calm his bucking hips beneath her.
She groaned in frustration, sliding herself along his sheet-covered thigh, gaining no pleasure for herself.
He felt her body sliding against his as he started to recover. Not wanting to leave her unsatisfied, he grabbed her arms and sat up, turning with her in his lap. "Grab the headboard," he told her, lying back as she frowned at him. He threaded his hands through her hair, smoothing the sweaty strands from her face, motioning for her to grab the headboard.
"Why?" she asked suspiciously, crawling hesitantly up his body. Her knees landed just outside his torso as she slowly moved up to his chest, but then she stopped, looking down at him in embarrassment.
He slid his hands down her thighs, which were on either side of his chest. The smell she was giving off made his nostrils flare. The heat and moistness seeping into his skin from between her legs was the most erotic thing he'd ever felt. He'd never had a human like this. Lifting his head a bit, he kissed the inside of her right thigh, darting his tongue out to taste her, but she wasn't close enough yet.
"I want to taste you, Willow. More than anything, I want to feel you." He scooted his hands beneath her and gave her a little push.
Her arms raised slowly and her hands closed around the wrought iron headboard, gripping and un-gripping it a few times as she waited, biting her lip. "Are-- are you sure you want to--"
He raised an incredulous eyebrow at her, unable to believe she had to ask.
She swallowed, moving higher on the bed, even with his head. "And this, Willow, is at the top of the list of things you never thought you'd be doing," she mumbled to herself.
He chuckled, grabbing her left leg and hooking it over his head, looking up at what he'd been denied. "Hang on," he said hoarsely, feeling her warm legs tighten and then loosen as she hung in midair, kneeling stiffly above him.
She eeped and squirmed around, but didn't move away, just looked down at him.
"Open," he whispered, closing his eyes at the smell wafting to him from so close. All he had to do was slide a finger in, she was right there, waiting for his touch, trusting him not to hurt her. But he wanted to taste her first.
He opened his eyes, which he was sure were flickering from human to demon, and growled low in his throat.
She spread her legs further apart, still waiting. Waiting for the pleasure he was promising her with his eyes.
Sliding his hands back up her thighs, he slid them around to the inside, teasing and touching lightly, drawing little patterns on her flesh until he reached her hips and drew her down to his mouth.
At the first touch of his tongue on her, she gasped and jerked up. "And again that scary part comes into it," she whispered as she lowered herself down to his mouth again. She swallowed, relaxing over him as his tongue slid inside of her.
"I won't hurt you," he told her before sliding his tongue deeper into her wet heat. She shuddered, quivering over him, stiffening up as he tried to press her lower, giving him better access. "Relax."
"Little hard to do..." she panted, pressing down as he thrust his tongue inside her. His lips worked against hers, his tongue tracing the outside of her, tasting her essence, tasting what she was.
He wondered if there was magick in there. In every part of her body, in every pore, droplet of sweat, and in the hot moist center of her. His arms hooked around her thighs, pulling her closer, spreading her wide with his fingers. Her skin was soft on her thighs, rough inside her, and he was getting hard again. She smelled and tasted so good.
He licked her and then slid a finger inside, opening her even more, flicking against her clit.
She shuddered again, grinding down on him rhythmically, sitting lower with each thrust. "This is so wrong," she bit out, tightening her muscles on his finger and tongue. "So very-- oh God," she gasped, her panting growing louder.
He darted a glance toward the door, keeping an ear out for approaching voices, steps, or heartbeats. All remained silent as far as he could tell, but Willow was getting louder with each breath.
"Shh," he chuckled, flicking his tongue over her clit. "Don't want guests right now, do we?"
"No," she ground out, "no, God no! We don't," she practically yelled, pressing herself fully down on his mouth.
He lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her cries of ecstasy. He slid a finger inside her mouth to suck on at the same time as he slid his tongue deeper inside her, lapping at the delicious taste of her.
She bit down on his finger, forcing a growl of pain from him as well as a moan of his own kind of ecstasy. It hurt, but felt so good, so right.
She sucked on his finger as she thrust her hips against his mouth, moaning and crying out, but in a much more muffled manner. Seconds later, she threw her head back and screamed around his finger as she came.
He sucked on her flesh as much as she sucked on his, flicking her clit a few times with the tip of his tongue. She tasted so bloody good. So heavenly.
She shuddered on him, relaxing into his mouth. Her hips jerked a few times as he blew on her, teasing her with his tongue.
Her muscles clenched around his tongue, her teeth scraping against his finger as he pulled it free.
She sank bonelessly to the wall, knocking the headboard against it once or twice. He lifted her up, drawing her down beside him, tucking her against his side. Her breath left her in a rush as she snuggled back against him.
"Mm, that was... wow and stuff," she mumbled tiredly, scooting back even further.
He was hard again. And still wanting to be inside of her. Sliding his hand down her side, he lifted her leg behind her, setting it on his as she sighed in contentment. "Please," he mumbled, playing the gentleman as he leaned forward, whispering in her ear, "can I have some more?"
"More?" she yawned, covering her mouth with her hand before letting it drop to the bed in front of her. "Already?"
"Vamp recovery time is faster than a human's." He thrust his hips forward a little, letting her feel his erection against her entrance.
She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling crookedly. "Wanna share some of that vamp recovery time stuff?"
He moved forward, kissing her lips lightly as he slid inside her body with a groan of pure pleasure, finally sheathing himself in her heat. "God," he ground out, feeling her tighten around him. He draped an arm around her waist, hauling her back against him, moving deeper into her as she pressed back with her hips. Careful not to jostle her back, he slowly and carefully moved inside her, building her pleasure as well as his own.
She was hot and wet, her muscles clenching around him. A few mewling sounds came from her as he slid his hand down and caressed her clit. Her hand reached back to grab his leg, clutching it tightly as she began to move faster against him. Her voice rose again, but this time, instead of sucking on his finger, she turned her head into the pillow, muffling her moans and whimpers, and eventually her scream as she came.
He lifted her leg higher, sheathing himself further inside her body, thrusting harder and faster with each stroke. The feel of her body tightening around him pushed him over the edge and he followed her into orgasm, groaning into her neck.
She relaxed against him, sighing as she loosened her hand on his leg. His hand loosened from her waist, raising to trace patterns along her stomach. He pressed a kiss on her neck, pulling her tighter against him.