Author note: This chapter is definitely rated R for language and sexual situations. So if you are under age, please go somewhere else. This is not appropriate. Just a warning. Thanks to all who have read before. Enjoy!

Chapter Seven – Give Up This Fight

"All better?" Faith asked him.

The shock of her hands, then her tongue on his still sensitive scar was something he wasn't expecting. And he wasn't expecting her to be so gentle with him. All he knew of her hands was the pain that they could inflict on his body. He never associated them with pleasure. His brain was telling him to ease her away from him. The rest of his body told him to take her any pleasurable way he could.

"Not yet," he managed to pant out as her hands worked their way down to the buttons on his shirt.

He could stop this, this insanity. But he was no longer her watcher, she no longer his slayer. They were just two people in need of tenderness. As Faith started to pop buttons off his shirt, his arms came back up to her neck. She shivered as he traced up and down the sides of it with the tips of his fingers.

As each button fell off onto the floor, her mouth followed the gradual opening of the shirt. When she made it to the last button, she knelt in front of him, circling his stomach with her tongue.

"Scar?" she asked as she kissed a particular spot on the side of his abdomen.

"Zombie cops. Gunshot."

Her hands stroked up and down his bare chest as her mouth kept up her kissing of his scars. When she got to the top of his trousers, she stopped and looked up at him. And then smiled that sultry smile that only Faith could pull off.

"Faith, you don't have . . . ," he started to say, only to be cut off by Faith touching him.

Nine months. The longest he had ever gone without some kind of companionship. Sure, Cordelia thought him to be a lost cause when it came to the opposite sex. But for some odd reason, he found that women were attracted to him, at least for one-night stands. They must not have been worried that he would want more than a night of sex and probably thought he was a safe bet for a quick tumble. But never a relationship. He hadn't had a real one since Virginia. Sometimes he felt that she just used him as an escort, and did not see him as a real, honest to goodness boyfriend.

The past months were more about isolation for him than anything. Punishment for all his transgressions. He deserved to be deprived of all the comforts that life had to offer, including a nice, warm body to wile away the night hours. Faith just wasn't some nice, warm body though.

Faith had fueled more fantasies in Sunnydale than Cordelia had. But the both of them were for the most part off limits. Until he found out that Cordelia was of age. Faith was not, so he certainly didn't want to cross that bridge. Also, being his charge didn't make that ever a possibility. So all of his attentions had been focused on Cordelia. That was a big mistake on his part because she was way out of his league. Cordelia was much too straight-laced and untried for his tastes. And she scared the bloody hell out of him.

As Faith's fingers ventured further down, he wondered if he should stop her. It was the now or never scenario right then, he thought. He could stop this and they could go back to being what they needed to be back in Sunnydale: a team. Only it felt too delicious to feel her delicate fingers dip below and her cheek to rub up against him like a cat in heat.

She freed his snap on the jeans he was wearing. Slowly, her nimble fingers lowered the zipper. He sighed his relief as she started to drag his jeans down his legs.

Since he hadn't put on any shoes, it was easy for her to yank the jeans off the rest of the way. Now he stood in front of her with his unbuttoned, now buttonless shirt on and his boxers. Her arms encircled his waist, tightly pulling his body to hers. Reaching down, he stroked her hair, winding her curls in his hands as she rocked back and forth. Her fingers lightly played with his lower back until she suddenly plunged them into the back of his boxers. Her hot hands made his backside even warmer as she caressed and squeezed. Then she gently eased the boxers down.

He couldn't let her do this, he thought. But as she gently kissed him, lips so soft, all thought fled.

"I'll take care of you," Faith whispered. "I'll make everything up to you."

"Bloody hell," he yelled as he suddenly yanked her up off the ground to face him directly. "You are not going to do that just to make up for everything. That's not what this is about."

The look of fear she gave him wasn't exactly what he had counted on. So he plundered her mouth again, trying to bring both of them back to that place where neither could think of anything else. She visibly relaxed when his hands pulled her against him. His hands were now busy unbuttoning the few buttons she had cared to use on his shirt. As he looked down at her, he observed exactly how lovely she really was. But since she had already almost brought him to the brink, he didn't think that he could hold out for the next five minutes.

They both took each other's shirts off at the same time. His hands then worked on the sweats, yanking them down and off in a hurry.

"You are exquisite," he murmured as his mouth descended to her shoulder, hands traveling down to explore her softness.

Faith moaned as his hands roamed. Pushing her back, her legs found the edge of the couch with a thump, making her tumble back. He tripped a little because she hadn't taken her hands off of him. Landing with a thud on top of her, he immediately started to kiss her all over again, hoping that small mistake wouldn't ruin anything. By her actions, he didn't think he had ruined it at all.

"Need you now," she whispered in his ear.

Faith had just told him she was needed him. And here he thought that she had wanted to take it slow.

She was so wonderful. If she didn't slow down her actions, it would all be over much too quickly. Just as his hand started to touch, she squeezed her damn slayer muscles, making him see more than stars this time. He could have sworn he almost passed out.

"Faith," he roared out.

As he slowly came back to himself, he opened his eyes to see that she was crying. And not just small tears of joy. These were crocodile tears, as Fred would sometimes say. Those kinds of tears meant only one thing.

"Did I injure you?"

Faith literally threw him off onto the floor. His ribs protested as he hit with a bang. She was off and running down the hall, until he heard the door slam to the bathroom. Not his swiftest seduction, he concluded. But those slayer muscles did him in. Didn't she realize the abilities she had to make him lose all control?

"Oh, bloody fucking hell," he mumbled to himself.

Here he was thinking about himself. He was certain now that he had not pleased her. The almost blacking out made his mind a little fuzzy. Was this encounter just about her making things up to him? He surely hoped not. He had to talk to her, make things right with her. Faith was the most complicated woman he had ever met. And having sex with her had just complicated their relationship even further. He just hoped that he could figure out how to make the whole situation better.

Faith turned on the water to the shower, jumping in to scrub off all the smell from Wesley. Damn it, she shouldn't have done it. She shouldn't have ever decided it would be fun to screw him. Hell, he didn't even know how to seduce her. He just fumbled his way through until he finished. Her body throbbed as she viciously scrubbed. Her skin was flushed pink by the time she finished. Grabbing a towel, she dried herself quickly, since there was no heat in the bathroom, except for the hot steam created from her shower. As she tucked the towel over her, she contemplated going back for her clothes.

As she looked into the mirror, she saw the tears still streaming down her face. Damn fucking jerk. She should have known he just wanted to stick it to her. He didn't even want what she so specially offered.

The knock at the door made her jump a little.

"What?" she screamed.

"We should talk," he said through the door.

"Done talking," she answered as she wiped the remaining tears from her face.

"Faith, I insist."

"Go away."

"Don't be so stubborn, you . . . ," he angrily said through the door.

"You are such a fucking jerk," she interrupted him before he could insult her.

"Open the door this instant, Faith."

"Go to hell."

"Gladly, if you would just open this door, you twit."

"What?" she screeched back.

Yanking the door open, he literally fell into the room. He hadn't bothered putting his shirt back on, just the boxers.

"Faith, I don't want to argue with you."

"Then don't," she ground out.

"You are being a brat at this moment. Do you know that?"

"Oh, you," Faith growled at him as she tried to throw her fist right into his face.

He quickly stopped her fist's forward progress. Jerking her against him, he scowled down at her as he held her fast. She could break free of him and send him flying, but the shock of his actions short-circuited her brain for a moment. He pulled her over to the toilet, where he sat down, settling her across his lap, face down.

"You are so not gonna do what I think you are gonna do?"

His forearm held her down across her back as his other hand caressed her gently. He had total access.

"You're fucking going down once I get up. Do you hear?"

"Keep talking. It'll just add to the punishment."

The first sting was just that, just a sting. Then he put more swing behind it.

"How many times Faith? How many times?"

None of her so-called boyfriends ever got into this kind of kink. Sure, a few had tied her up, but no one had ever spanked her. Figures that this was Wesley's kink. She could feel him against the side of her stomach. Just as suddenly, he decided to make it feel so good by touching her.

"Oh, fuck," she cried out.

"You need this. Just as I needed it. Relax Faith," he purred.

So maybe he did know what he was doing. She didn't think so before. Tugging the towel off, he eased her onto his lap. His attentions made her jerk back.

"I think these are more beautiful than your delightfully reddened arse."

She almost clocked him one, but there was a compliment in there somewhere. Why did she have to find out now how talented he really was? Her skin was all hot from his touching.

"Fuck," she sighed out as he went to work.

His hands ran up and down her back.

"Too much," she wailed as she pulled his mouth away, taking it with her own to slow him down.

"Not enough," he said against her mouth. "Stand up."

It was hard to respond to his request since her brain was so scrambled by his touch, but his gesture for her to get up got through to some brain cell that wasn't totally fucked up. Taking her hand, he led her into his bedroom, grabbing as many blankets as he could. Then he led her into the living room by the fire. Spreading the blankets out, he pointed to the ground.

"I want to do this right," he whispered into her ear as she started to fall to her knees.

He followed her quickly, not taking his hands off of her body. Tomorrow, she would think about what they did. Now, it was all about touching, feeling. As he spread her out on the soft blankets, she wondered how he could be this gentle with her. She had hurt him so badly. The permanent scars she had made were staring her in the face as he joined her on the blankets.

"Close your eyes, love," he asked, kissing each eye until they closed on their own.

She was floating on a sea of bliss as he kissed his way all over the front of her body. Then he turned her over and performed the same thing on the back. Flipping her back over, he slowly kissed up the inside of one of her thighs. When he made her fly yet again, she screamed out his name.

"Fuck, Wes," she thought she panted out about a million times before he raised his head and looked at her, kind of like a predator looking at his prey.

"What did you do to me?" she shakily got out as he made his way up her body.

"You are heavenly," he told her.

Every part of her now was sensitive to him. It was almost too much. She had just decided to tell him to stop and let her recover. He decided that he wasn't done with her.

"Wesley," she moaned back.

"Shh, love. Just let go."

And he definitely wasn't done with her yet. After he showed her again he knew what he was doing, he collapsed on top of her, sort of squishing her, but she didn't mind.

"Mad skills. Definite mad skills. They teach you to do that at that Watcher's school?"

Faith heard a small giggle come from him against her skin.

"If they had, I assure you that I would have partaken of your lovely body much sooner rather than years later."

"You mean you would have fucked my brains out sooner? Oh, did you really have a thing for me back in SunnyD?" she questioned him.

She felt him stiffen a little, and not in a good way. "It would not have been appropriate."

"Well, screw appropriate. You had some wicked action going."

Wesley raised his head to look down at her.

"I, well, um, thank you?"

"Yes, it was a compliment, you jackass. Don't think that I haven't forgotten about that little ole' spankin' you gave me, mister."

"Whatever are you referring to, Faith?" he quipped back.

"My ass, you fuckhead."

"Oh, that. You were being a brat."

And he was teasing her right then. His small smirk said it all.

"Yeah? And you were being a prick. How would you like it if I did that to you?" His eyes brightened at the possibility. "Man, you are fucking kinky, you know that?"

He crushed his mouth to hers, effectively shutting up her next comeback.

"I delight in making you squirm, my dear."

"Fucking save me from self-righteous, kinky Englishmen."

"Only one Englishman, I have to say. Unless you have a thing for an older watcher or say a vampire?"

"Nope. No designs whatsoever. But I do have dibs on making your ass mine."

"Let's just say that I got to yours first and call it even."

As he scooted off of her, he pulled a blanket up over the two of them, cocooning them both so their body heat and the fire beside them would keep them warm for the rest of the night. The small mew of the kitten made her look up, just in time to get a lick of sandpaper tongue on her eyebrow.

"Hey, cat. Knock it off."

The kitten found a small opening between them in the blankets and crawled under.

"Faith, you let that thing under the blankets?" Wesley inquired as he tried to find it as it squirmed out of his reach.

"Me? She's fast is all I can say."

He finally found it and pulled it out, shutting the small hole by tucking the blankets securely around the two of them. The kitten settled for practically sleeping on top of her head for her body heat. As Wesley wrapped her up against the front of him, she wondered when this little fairytale that they had created would end. Would it end with her saying something stupid or him? Or would it end when the real world came crashing back in on them? But right then, she wanted to enjoy his body heat against her back, enjoy one of his hands draped across her stomach and the other hand against her backside as his breathing slowed down until he drifted off to sleep. One of his long legs pinned her down beside him, kind of making it hard for her to even shift a little, much less leave and go somewhere else. So she relaxed into the embrace, knowing for the first time that she could rest without feeling that she had to protect her back. He had it and so much more.

TBC