FORBIDDEN
: Part Three – Mr and Mrs Christie :
Buffy had been asleep for about two hours now. It was dark, late, but they'd finally crossed the state line.
Spike was feeling tense. For the two hours that Buffy had slept he had tried to ignore her, but he was finding both that and himself hard. She'd been fine at the beginning, just soft breathing. But then she'd started to whimper and moan, and wriggle against the seat and… And…
And then, she had called out his name.
That was a good thing to be sure, but should she really be calling out his name. She was far too young for him, and he was too old. Well, that and he was a bad man anyway.
He shouldn't have taken her with him.
He shouldn't have let her tag along.
He shouldn't have ripped so many of her clothes that she'd had to resort to wearing one of his shirts.
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She looked so peaceful, lying there, sleeping. What had he got her in to?
He'd set a good red-herring trail before leaving. If followed it would lead nicely down south and away from him. But still…
"Where are we?" Buffy asked, blinking her eyes open. She looked at him and smiled.
"Just out of the state. We've made good time." She snuggled in against him and put his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head.
"How long was I out?"
"Few hours." It was strange, the closeness. Comforting. They hadn't known each other long, they barely knew each other at all, and yet they knew each other…intimately.
"Want me to drive while you get a little shut-eye?" She tilted her head up to look at him.
"You can drive?"
"Ya-ha." She smiled as he gave her a little squeeze. "Want me to?"
"Not sure I trust you enough, pet."
"But you do trust me."
"Course not. I could wake up to find you chaining me to a bed!" He laughed, heartily.
"Like you don't want me to." She scoffed.
"Easy, pet. Fetishes of yours'll have to wait till later."
"Hoh!" She hit him, playfully before leaning back into him again and watching the road ahead.
"Hungry?" He asked noticing a sign up ahead.
"Do we have time?"
He nodded and indicated to turn. "We need to get some sleep, anyway."
"Mmmmn!" Buffy grinned and licked her lips.
"Actual sleep, pet."
She pouted. "Meanie."
"Yes, sir. And a room for your?" Asked the receptionist. He looked at Spike for a moment and then at Buffy. He let his eyes fall over the curves of her body and tilted his head to one side.
"Wife." Spike growled, pulling her against him, a protective hand around her waist. "And no, just one room." Buffy smiled and turned to one side, snuggling against his neck.
"Of course, sir." The man said, sniffily. "And the name? Mr and Mrs?"
Spike cleared his throat and thought. Luckily the phone rang and the receptionist became preoccupied. "Help me!" He whispered urgently to Buffy.
"What about…um…Summers? My last name."
He shook his head. "Traceable."
"What about your last name? What is it, anyway?"
"Again, traceable, and you don't want to know."
Intrigued she persisted. "Go on."
"Not the time!" He said, indicating the receptionist who had now started looking up something on the computer.
"How about Pitt? Mr and Mrs Pitt?" Buffy suggested.
"As in Brad? No!"
"Oh," she sulked, "I always wanted to be Mrs Pitt." He glared at her. "How a-bout…um…Mr and Mrs O'Mally?"
"Not Irish."
"Simpson?"
"Not cartoons."
"Michael?"
"Not gay!"
Buffy racked her brains. "Christie?"
Spike lowered his head and licked the outline of her lips. She squirmed her hips against his and pushed forwards to meet his lips, but he moved back, enjoying the power-play.
"Sir? Hello?"
Spike snapped back. "What?" He growled at the man.
"Mr and Mrs?"
"Christie." He grinned turning back to the Buffy that was draped over him.
"Okay, so that's a king size double for Mr and Mrs Christie…room five-eleven." He said, jingling some keys in front of him. Spike took them and threw some bills down before turning and leading Buffy to the lift.
Buffy grinned as the doors shut.
"Hello, Mrs Christie." Spike said, sliding her against one of the inside walls after pressing one of the buttons. The lift began to move. "You ought to be careful, Mrs," he said, moving his hands onto her waist, "there are dangerous people about who'd do all sorts of things to a woman travelling alone?"
"Really?" She asked, innocently as she felt his erection pressing against her through the fabric of their clothes.
"Oh yeah."
"What kinds of things?"
He grinned against her neck as he began to lay butterfly kisses along it, giving yet holding back so much. "Bad, bad things."
"Unnnh!" She moaned as he brushed the hard peaks of her nipples through the material of her shirt.
"Well," he said, slowly lifting the hem of the skirt that she had changed into, his fingers brushing her legs. He whispered images into her ears and watched her eyelids flitter and raise at the mention of them. "So," he said, withdrawing, "it's a good thing that I was here to protect you, Mrs."
Flustered, Buffy looked up at him, her eyes dilated, her breath already hoarse. "Oh," she said, decisively, "I don't think so!"
"Mmmmn! Pound it!" The brunette in the porn film screamed as one man drove into her whilst she gave another a blowjob. "Mmmmn! Oh! Mmmmn!"
"Fuck! Mrs Christie, I never knew!" Spike growled as he pumped into Buffy who was sat atop him, her back pressed against his front.
"Unh! Oh, Mr Christie! Unh! Unh!" Buffy moaned loudly as her head began to role sensually back. She was trying desperately to keep her eyes on the play in front of them.
Spike ran his fingers over her hard nipples and moulded one of her breasts in his hand. He tilted his head to one side to see the brunette as she moved one hand down to her clit, just as another woman joined in – a blonde.
Buffy slowed down the pace. "W-What's going on?" Spike choked, his breath ragged and his voice hoarse as he tried to make her take it up again.
"If you'd rather do them, you can." She angered as best she could with his cock still pumping away inside her.
"What?" He moved one hand to their joining and began to massage her, trying to build up a rhythm again. "You're watching the men." He growled.
"Well, you're watching the women!" She shouted back.
"Fine – turn it off!"
"You turn it off!"
"Turn…around." He choked as she began to pick up pace again. "I want to look at you."
"Why do I have to turn?" She could feel her orgasm coming on. It was creeping…so close!
"So I'm the bloody one that makes you come!" He shouted.
"Jealous?" She asked, breathlessly, a smile on her face as she turned and saw his face turn faint as he saw her glistening breasts bouncing with ever grinding.
He pulled her against him and forced her breast up to his mouth. "Always…" He breathed across it before polishing it with his tongue.
"Oh, Mr…Christie!" She shrieked as she came heavily, choking him. The sensations they were--
"Buffy!" He bellowed as he held her hips down and blasted to heaven!
Buffy flopped down and grinned at him. "I knew you'd be like this." She batted her eyes at him.
"Like…what?" He said as he brushed a piece of hair out of her face.
She examined his face. "Different!" She grinned again.
"Different? In what way?" He pressed, intrigued.
"Well," she breathed, tired, "I dunno. I've not had that many boyfriends to compare."
Did that mean that he was a boyfriend? Did she see him as a boyfriend? Did she want him to be a boyfriend? God! What more did she want?
Boyfriend!
He swallowed a lump in his throat.
"You're definitely different!" She smiled. Was that a good thing?
"Is that a good thing?"
"Oh," she laughed, wriggling a little, "that's a good thing!"
Spike lay spread-eagled across the bed, Buffy between his legs, resting her head on his stomach. A sheet was draped roughly across them. "Well," she said, "this has certainly been an interesting few days."
He smiled at her.
She looped a leg around his and pushed her wet pussy against his thigh, slowly rocking against it. Her kneecap brushed his erection. "How long have we got?"
"Till?"
"Till whenever." She responded sighing. Whenever was forever and never both at once. What was he supposed to answer to that?
He kept quiet.
She noted the change in his mood – more tense than usual. "How many positions are there?" She asked, innocently walking her fingers across his chest.
"Dunno, pet." He said. He reached across and picked up the packet of Marlboros, placing one of them between his lips and clicking on the lighter. Buffy picked it up, stubbed it on the headboard and threw it onto the floor whilst Spike watched, wide-eyed. When she nuzzled against his neck as if nothing had happened, he got angry. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" He growled, shaking her.
She looked at him, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "You could have died, hello! I was saving your life!"
"You were--"
"Trying to keep you alive long enough to show me all the positions." She finished, rocking against him in simulation. He had to admit when she put it like that it didn't seem so bad.
She watched him deliberating it over when there was a knock at the door.
"You gonna get that, or shall I?" She asked, nudging him. He simply grinned at her. "Fine." She rolled over and wrapped herself up in the sheet. "Just a minute!" She called as she waddled over to the door.
Her hand was on the knob when she heard in her ear; "Number one."
She smiled and turned as Spike bent down and licked and nipped at her lips, making her drop the sheet and loop her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers through his hair. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, his erection pressed against her slick opening. "Ah, Spike!" She giggled. "What am I going to do with you?"
Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Well," he said, "first we're going to answer the door, and then we're going to…" He drifted off and nuzzled her neck.
He carried her towards the door and put his hand on the knob as she began to nibble at his ear. He sucked in a harsh breath and opened the door a crack, peeping his head into the hallway.
"What?" He growled, impatiently at the man who was stood there.
"I-I'm sorry, sir, but we got a room service call?" He queried.
Buffy wiggled her hips against his and heard his squeak a little. "No!" Spike shouted. "No service call! No bloody service call! Put a bloody do not disturb thingy on this door and room, okay?"
The man looked petrified. "Y-Yes, sir. I'm--"
Spike slammed the door, and then Buffy against it.
"I think you scared the man." She giggled.
"I was about bloody ready to kill the man!" He shouted as he reared into her.
Spike was watching Buffy sleep. She looked so innocent, so calm.
Why was she with him? After all this time, why was she still there? What did she think that he could give her?
It made no sense, unless…
"Buffy," Spike whispered, sliding his arm from under her head. She took a deep breath as she slowly wriggled awake, sleepily.
"Good morning." She grinned, happily. She twisted her body closer towards his and reached out an arm, tickling her fingers down his side.
He caught her fingers at his waist. "Stop." He said, seriously.
"Why?"
He paused, as if debating his own use of the words. "Why are you doing this, Buffy?"
She withdrew her hand. "What?"
"You know what." She turned around and pulled the covers over her. "One minute you're begging me not to send you to the bloody coppers, and the next you're all over me--"
"I didn't hear you complaining!" She said, indignantly.
"Buffy--"
"Look, if you're so desperate to get rid of me, you should've just said instead of chickening out now!" She was definitely showing her age, and she knew it.
"Buffy--"
She sat up and pulled one of the sheets off the bed, wrapping it round her. "I'm sure I can find someone willing to take me." She pulled some of her torn clothes from her bag and began to dress in them.
"T-Take you--" Spike stood up and pulled his jeans on.
"Yes, take me! I need to get away, far away. I've told you about a thousand times, but," she muttered, slipping her shoes on, "I guess I figured you wrong!" She dove her hand into her bag and pulled out a wad of dollar bills. She threw them on the bed. "Thanks for the ride!" She turned to the door as he fumbled with his belt.
"Buffy, Christ! Will you let me get a word in?" He growled, now angry. He ran to catch her, but she'd darted down the hall. "Shit!" He turned back into the room and reached for a t-shirt, then dropped to the floor to find his shoes.
It was all taking too long! He didn't know why, but he had to go after Buffy. She was being so stupid, so childish. She had no idea where she was going. Who did she think she was, just running off like that? Didn't she know that there were people out there who'd--
He found his shoe and grabbed his bag, taking the stairs instead of the lift to the ground floor.
He nearly tripped over the last step as he made it, panting, into the foyer. He looked about frantically.
God, she was being so stupid!
He walked towards the front desk. "Hey, yeah, have you seen the woman I was with? She's about this high, blonde hair…"
"Yes, sir." The man smiled, forcedly. "She left some time ago with some nice gentlemen in a red car." Spiked leaned forwards a little to look out into the parking lot. "Very nice men." The man added. "Tipped well."
Spike glared at him then threw down a twenty. "Which way did they go?"
The man smiled, saccharine, and pocketed the money. "West. Heading towards the coast. Looked like surfers."
Surfers?
Bastards!
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