He probably thinks I was crying about Dawn.
And if he asks, which he won't, that's what I'll tell him.
The fact is, I broke down in front of him. That's a big Buffy don't. I haven't even touched him since that night. . .
Can't think of that, except that it keeps haunting my mind like how he shadows my steps. The touch of his cold fingers running down my skin, the flick of his tongue along my neck, the feel of his cock in me as he brings my body swiftly to orgasm. . .
I haven't come that hard since. . .
Since Angel.
And I didn't know how much I missed it. It's like a drug. The sensation of the fuck, a good fuck, not the warm, calming strokes of a human, the painfully slow orgasm that builds up only to come without release.
Spike took me hard and without relent. He knew I wouldn't break and he used me until I was on the verge of being torn.
I'm not sure who enjoyed the adrenaline rush more.
~~~
My hands are intertwining between his peroxide stained head as he wreaks havoc on my clit. I push him harder toward me and whimper in pleasure as he teases the delicate skin between his blunt teeth.
I refuse to come because he whispered in my ear before he knelt to his knees that he wanted to see how fast he could get me to orgasm. But I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out.
I had arrived at the Magic Box to find Anya helping a customer in her own blunt fashion of telling him that if he didn't buy the product it would be unpatriotic. Sometimes I wonder if she actually ever makes a profit with those types of marketing skills.
Since that night of Buffy degrading (which is it's new name because I refuse to materialize the act in words) I haven't let him enter my mind. The only thing that I've thought of is slaying, school and friends. Even letting snippets of Riley in makes my stomach clench.
I gave a quick nod toward the ex vengeance demon as she forced a green statue of a multi armed god into the bewildered customers hands and disappeared into the back room for some training.
It's always quite in the back room, no matter how much noise is going on outside. It helps when I'm trying to meditate, or when I'm blaring music at it's max to help with the workout. More then anything, this has become my sanctuary, surrounded by unpainted walls and dulled weapons as it's artifacts.
This is the home of the Slayer.
He slipped in while I drowned my thoughts in giving the dummy a good ass kicking. The plastic head kept bobbing back, asking for more while I pummeled it with my fists.
Left hook, jab, right uppercut, follow with a cross punch.
I don't know how long he watched me, but eventually he turned off the radio which was in the middle of hip hop song I had been enjoying. My thoughts had actually been of Xander at the moment, and no, not in the I- think-he's-sexy, but the when-is-he-ever-going-to-marry-Anya way. So when I turned around with a grin on my face, it wasn't for the vampire standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" I asked tersely, watching him with my eyes as my smile fell.
He sauntered closer to me, keeping a careful distance. "Here for the view pet." His lips curled as his gaze wandered along my sweat soaked body. I shivered.
"Get out."
Spike shook his head. "Came her to talk luv, and let me tell you, it's not easy getting from my crypt to this bloody excuse for a magic shop." He let his blue orbs meet my eyes, and drew himself up closer toward me. "You were amazing." His breath whispered, sending shivers through my spine.
"Lock the door." I told him with an air of command. The words came out before I could realize what I had said. Before I could bring myself to kick him out onto the sun soaked cement, he was back in my presence, unbuckling his pants with the safety of knowing the door was locked.
I shook my head and eyed him until he stopped. Didn't move until he redid the zipper.
"What then?" He asked in a sigh. "Want me to get on my knees?"
It was a joke, but it caught my attention. He must of noticed because he cocked an eyebrow and knelt in front of me, his fingers working the buttons on my pants.
~~~
I can't last anymore, and I come into his mouth, shuddering until the intense orgasm passes.
How is it that something I hate so much can make me come so damn hard?
He rocks back on the balls of his feet, his tongue licking up the rest of my essence on his lips. "You held out Slayer."
I smile, hitching my pants back up. "So?"
"So." He growls and is up, clutching my shoulders in one solid movement. "You going to give me a blow, or open those thighs for me to sink into?" It was almost a harsh statement, which he realized and quickly follows up with; "I know you enjoyed the tongue fuck luv, there's more where that came from."
I hit him in the nose quickly and he doubles backwards. My hands smooth out my pants. I can blame the sweat on the workout I was supposedly doing, no one will know the difference.
He's staring at me like I'm a bitch because he gave me one of those earth shattering climax's and I'm not returning the gesture. Should I be? He's a monster, a. . . nothing. The fact that he wants to bring me pleasure isn't my fault, and doesn't mean I need to give back in kind.
God I'm such a bitch.
I move my body up to his before he even fully recovers from the punch, and press my lips to his. He lets out a low animalistic growl and slides his callused hand over my hip.
It's funny how my emotions switch so fast. What I had told myself was that the Slayer wanted Spike, the Slayer needed the darkness to balance out the power. Buffy had nothing to do with it. So when I saw Spike, I became a cold hearted bitch, I became the Slayer.
But now I'm Buffy again, and I feel guilty. He ate me up so damn good I don't think I can allow Riley to go down on me now for fear of disappointment. He's screwed me for life. And I feel guilty, because I'm leaving him without pleasure of his own.
Stupid Buffy, don't feel bad for the evil vampire your kissing. The evil vampire who just tongued you off so damn good. . .
I push him away, so our lips are no longer touching but I'm still close to his eyes.
"I. . . have to go, but tonight, before patrol, I'll stop by."
I say the words out of pity. I'll give him blow job and then lose myself in the fight against evil, tiring my body past exhaustion so that when I stumble home, I won't have the energy to do more then make eye contact with my husband.
He smirks. That evil, sadistic smirk that makes him look like he owns the world. Like he owns me. "After." He states, leaning into whisper to me. "I want to lick the sweat off of your body, I can wait until then." The vampire doesn't give me a chance to protest, just pushes me back lightly, and flashes out of sight.
And the only thought I can get through my head as I let my breath come out ragged, is that I'm a fucking idiot.
A/N I just want you all to know I *hate* how this chapter came out. So if you actually enjoyed it, please let me know because I am not at all pleased with it. But then again, what do I know? I'm the worlds worst critic of my own work.
And if he asks, which he won't, that's what I'll tell him.
The fact is, I broke down in front of him. That's a big Buffy don't. I haven't even touched him since that night. . .
Can't think of that, except that it keeps haunting my mind like how he shadows my steps. The touch of his cold fingers running down my skin, the flick of his tongue along my neck, the feel of his cock in me as he brings my body swiftly to orgasm. . .
I haven't come that hard since. . .
Since Angel.
And I didn't know how much I missed it. It's like a drug. The sensation of the fuck, a good fuck, not the warm, calming strokes of a human, the painfully slow orgasm that builds up only to come without release.
Spike took me hard and without relent. He knew I wouldn't break and he used me until I was on the verge of being torn.
I'm not sure who enjoyed the adrenaline rush more.
~~~
My hands are intertwining between his peroxide stained head as he wreaks havoc on my clit. I push him harder toward me and whimper in pleasure as he teases the delicate skin between his blunt teeth.
I refuse to come because he whispered in my ear before he knelt to his knees that he wanted to see how fast he could get me to orgasm. But I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out.
I had arrived at the Magic Box to find Anya helping a customer in her own blunt fashion of telling him that if he didn't buy the product it would be unpatriotic. Sometimes I wonder if she actually ever makes a profit with those types of marketing skills.
Since that night of Buffy degrading (which is it's new name because I refuse to materialize the act in words) I haven't let him enter my mind. The only thing that I've thought of is slaying, school and friends. Even letting snippets of Riley in makes my stomach clench.
I gave a quick nod toward the ex vengeance demon as she forced a green statue of a multi armed god into the bewildered customers hands and disappeared into the back room for some training.
It's always quite in the back room, no matter how much noise is going on outside. It helps when I'm trying to meditate, or when I'm blaring music at it's max to help with the workout. More then anything, this has become my sanctuary, surrounded by unpainted walls and dulled weapons as it's artifacts.
This is the home of the Slayer.
He slipped in while I drowned my thoughts in giving the dummy a good ass kicking. The plastic head kept bobbing back, asking for more while I pummeled it with my fists.
Left hook, jab, right uppercut, follow with a cross punch.
I don't know how long he watched me, but eventually he turned off the radio which was in the middle of hip hop song I had been enjoying. My thoughts had actually been of Xander at the moment, and no, not in the I- think-he's-sexy, but the when-is-he-ever-going-to-marry-Anya way. So when I turned around with a grin on my face, it wasn't for the vampire standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" I asked tersely, watching him with my eyes as my smile fell.
He sauntered closer to me, keeping a careful distance. "Here for the view pet." His lips curled as his gaze wandered along my sweat soaked body. I shivered.
"Get out."
Spike shook his head. "Came her to talk luv, and let me tell you, it's not easy getting from my crypt to this bloody excuse for a magic shop." He let his blue orbs meet my eyes, and drew himself up closer toward me. "You were amazing." His breath whispered, sending shivers through my spine.
"Lock the door." I told him with an air of command. The words came out before I could realize what I had said. Before I could bring myself to kick him out onto the sun soaked cement, he was back in my presence, unbuckling his pants with the safety of knowing the door was locked.
I shook my head and eyed him until he stopped. Didn't move until he redid the zipper.
"What then?" He asked in a sigh. "Want me to get on my knees?"
It was a joke, but it caught my attention. He must of noticed because he cocked an eyebrow and knelt in front of me, his fingers working the buttons on my pants.
~~~
I can't last anymore, and I come into his mouth, shuddering until the intense orgasm passes.
How is it that something I hate so much can make me come so damn hard?
He rocks back on the balls of his feet, his tongue licking up the rest of my essence on his lips. "You held out Slayer."
I smile, hitching my pants back up. "So?"
"So." He growls and is up, clutching my shoulders in one solid movement. "You going to give me a blow, or open those thighs for me to sink into?" It was almost a harsh statement, which he realized and quickly follows up with; "I know you enjoyed the tongue fuck luv, there's more where that came from."
I hit him in the nose quickly and he doubles backwards. My hands smooth out my pants. I can blame the sweat on the workout I was supposedly doing, no one will know the difference.
He's staring at me like I'm a bitch because he gave me one of those earth shattering climax's and I'm not returning the gesture. Should I be? He's a monster, a. . . nothing. The fact that he wants to bring me pleasure isn't my fault, and doesn't mean I need to give back in kind.
God I'm such a bitch.
I move my body up to his before he even fully recovers from the punch, and press my lips to his. He lets out a low animalistic growl and slides his callused hand over my hip.
It's funny how my emotions switch so fast. What I had told myself was that the Slayer wanted Spike, the Slayer needed the darkness to balance out the power. Buffy had nothing to do with it. So when I saw Spike, I became a cold hearted bitch, I became the Slayer.
But now I'm Buffy again, and I feel guilty. He ate me up so damn good I don't think I can allow Riley to go down on me now for fear of disappointment. He's screwed me for life. And I feel guilty, because I'm leaving him without pleasure of his own.
Stupid Buffy, don't feel bad for the evil vampire your kissing. The evil vampire who just tongued you off so damn good. . .
I push him away, so our lips are no longer touching but I'm still close to his eyes.
"I. . . have to go, but tonight, before patrol, I'll stop by."
I say the words out of pity. I'll give him blow job and then lose myself in the fight against evil, tiring my body past exhaustion so that when I stumble home, I won't have the energy to do more then make eye contact with my husband.
He smirks. That evil, sadistic smirk that makes him look like he owns the world. Like he owns me. "After." He states, leaning into whisper to me. "I want to lick the sweat off of your body, I can wait until then." The vampire doesn't give me a chance to protest, just pushes me back lightly, and flashes out of sight.
And the only thought I can get through my head as I let my breath come out ragged, is that I'm a fucking idiot.
A/N I just want you all to know I *hate* how this chapter came out. So if you actually enjoyed it, please let me know because I am not at all pleased with it. But then again, what do I know? I'm the worlds worst critic of my own work.