There's a small moment where the hesitation seems to leave her for a fleeting second. He seizes on it, on her, sinking his mouth down on hers.

Might not get another chance... God I'll take whatever I can get from her. Any tiny little piece she's willing to give.

He slips his tongue passed her teeth, tangling it around hers and to his surprise she melts into it. It takes her a moment, a heartbeat of indecision, but she breaks. Pulling him in hard, warm hands on his arms, moving across against his back, nails scratching at him. He stoops, sliding both hands around her waist. He lifts her up with a hard yank, hoisting her off her feet, and she shocks him by wrapping her legs around his hips.

She wants me...

The heat of her is scorching, starting from between her legs and burning through layers of clothes, setting his skin on fire. He growls possessively, and he hears her heart beating, tripping up and over into a higher tempo, ticking against his tongue through hers, echoing in his teeth as they itch to move down into sharper fangs. Itching to bite her, but not to feed, just to feel. Just to feel her bucking against him more, feeling himself inside her, feel her moans trickling down his throat, swallowing the sound of her need down into his gut, breathing the scent of her in deep into his lungs.

He walks her to the bed, one hand still round her waist, the other on the back of her neck, locking her against him. Her breasts crush against his chest and he nearly buckles, nearly falls to his knees, at how soft she feels. Everywhere. Skin on his. Lips under his teeth. Breasts heaving with her every breath. Hair slipping through his fingers. Soft everywhere but with hard muscles and sharp claws underneath. Exquisite contradiction.

Buffy loses herself and squeezes his hips with her thighs, expecting a sharp intake of breath or a cry, bracing her heart for it like a little cutting dagger engraved with words like Too Strong To Be Loved- memories of Riley wincing in pain... Parker smirking as he left her in the quad...

But instead Spike's laughing. A sneering sort of chuckle you'd hear from a schoolboy.

"If you're trying to leave your mark, pet, you'll have to go a bit harder than that. I'm not a paper doll." She let's out a breath, hitched by a light laugh, followed by a head rush as he topples her down onto the bed beneath him.

"Is that a challenge?" She purrs as he tangles himself around her, grazing the skin of her collarbones with his teeth, finding all the little pressure points on her back that make her jump and gasp as he strokes hard fingers up her spine. She can feel him grinning into her neck.

"Definitely."

His hands are moving further up, pushing her up into him more, holding her closer. Something inside her melts completely. Some small fragment of ice she'd been protecting her heart with. Keeping herself back just enough not to be heartbroken again. But the way his fingers play across her skin, the way his lips press into her neck, kissing then sucking... nearly biting... feels almost worshipful. Feels strangely loving. Safe.

That's... weird. He makes me feel safe? Makes me feel wanted... all parts. Every part. Human part and Slayer part...

Her heart sinks...

"Spike... I... I don't want to hurt you." Her head swirls at the intense change of direction that she finds herself taking.

I really don't... I've had enough of hurt. Taking and giving...

He chuckles darkly, putting slightly more pressure behind the caresses his teeth are leaving on the skin of her neck.

"Don't you, luv? That's a change of pace."

"You know what I mean."

"You mean it's no fun beating me to a pulp if I get off on it?"

"NO! That's definitely not what I mean!" She laughs, feeling some of the tension ebb.

He nuzzles into her neck, leaving long biting kisses behind, purring against her veins, a deep vibrating growling purr like a panther prowling on top of her, all lithe muscle and satiny skin. Hard teeth and claws with desire underneath. She matches it with light scratches at his back, growing in ferocity the lower his lips move.

"Don't be gentle with me, Buffy. You don't need to pretend with me. Leave me bruised."

Her skin prickles, shivering under his. Her legs are tangled underneath his and she moves them up around him, letting him slip closer towards her. His fingers find a knot of nerves near her spine that catches her breath in her throat as he strokes over it. He learns quick, watching her with a side eye as he strokes back over it harder, making her whimper.

"You're so easy to read." He whispers in awe, and her stomach twists over.

He digs his fingers in hard and she screams, back arching, her thighs suddenly crushing his hips as all her muscles contract. Fingernails clawing his back.

Do all parts of her do that? All muscles? He thinks, his mouth filling with saliva as she squirms underneath him. Even the ones on the inside?

What muscles like that could do...

His throat closes, thinking of her wrapped around him.

"Buffy..." he swallows, trying to dispel the croak that's taken hold of his voice box. "How far... where's the line?"

She blinks, eyes fluttering, he's so close he can feel the heat behind each breathe she takes. His arms are still wrapped around her back, up underneath her sweater but the claws have turn to soft fingers, scratches to soft winding strokes, ready to pull back if she says stop.

"I uh..."

I said I wanted to wait... needed to wait...I...

I feel drugged. Drunk on him. Like I'm melting away completely.

I said I wanted to wait.

"I don't know." To herself not just to him.

He nods, touching her lips with his in a softer kiss, and she relaxes a little. Even soft, even gentle his kiss has power underneath it. Not weak like Riley. Not careful like Angel. Intentionally light, choosing to be, teasing a little, loving a lot.

"This alright?" He whispers as he pulls away. She nods, shifting down a little further underneath him, pulling him in closer still with her hands at the back of his neck, slipping up into the hard slicked back spikes of his hair. She kisses down further, over his chin to his throat, down his neck and he gulps, panting, at the scorching heat of her tongue working its way over his jugular, down further...

"Buffy…"

He can hear her heartbeat hammering, feels it leaving little trembling vibrations everywhere she touches him, even when he pulls away from her, sitting up on his knees between her legs. She follows him up, pulling his black shirt up over his head. He reaches down, re-wrapping arms around her waist before hoisting her up, setting her down so she's sitting on top of the pillows at the head of the bed. He takes one of her ankles in his hand and pulls her sneaker off, pulls of the other and kicks his boots down off the edge of the bed.

He pulls the bed covers out from under her feet and she slips down, settling into the bed without being asked, and he moves in beside her. Bare feet against bare feet, cool fingers over hips, under clothes, twining into hair. He strokes up her stomach, rucking the sweater she's still wearing up to just under her breasts.

There's a soft pink line across her abdomen, barely there, where the stake punctured. He runs the back of his fingers over it, lowers himself down between her legs so his head is in front of her stomach and she stiffens, almost imperceptibly, swallowing a little gasp.

She thinks I'm rushing ahead...

Not used to men taking their time.

He sets his mouth on her skin, kisses softly down the line of her stomach... brushing her scar with his lips. As soon as he does an electric bolt rips through Buffy and she can't help suck in a deep lungful of air as he does it again, trailing his lips over fresh sensitive skin. He flattens his tongue against the scar and licks slowly along the full length of it as she bucks and screams, hard fingers suddenly burying themselves in his hair, gelled spikes cracking underneath. He works his way back, nipping her just underneath her belly button, starting to feel high on her moans. Finding more places to bite as she pulls his hair and leaves deep scratches over his neck.

He moves back up her torso, pulls her hands out of his hair and resettles them on his jaw, pulling into a harder, hungrier kiss. She pushes her tongue hard against his, clinging to him.

"Do you normally sleep in a sweater, luv?" He moans as she wraps her legs tighter around his.

She stops. Green eyes snapping open, meeting his.

"No. Not usually."

Buffy bites her lip as his hand moves down to the hem of her sweater, lifting it up. The back of his fingers grazing her ribcage for the second time in a week.

This will be as far I go... it's not...

It's not as bad as what Riley was doing.

I don't even really care anymore what he was doing... Maybe I'll never care about anything again.

She lifts her arms and ducks her head out underneath the sweater as Spike pulls it up and off her shoulders, relaxing back down into the pillows. The silk of the sheets feels cool against her skin, a little slippery...

Spike drops the sweater off the edge of the bed, freezes when he turns back to look at her properly.

The peach of her skin, against the peach of the sheets, silk on silk. Gold hair against the gold in the stitching, shining in the pink candle glow.

He cocks his head, taking her in.

Huh... that's why I chose that color. Thought it was out of my usual taste.

She's really been infecting me for longer than I thought...

Riley slips into Buffy's house, not bothering to close the door quietly. Dawn is at Janice's, Joyce won't be back until tomorrow.

I guess today technically…

"Buffy?" The weighted silence greets him.

His arm is throbbing darkly underneath the bandage. Two punctures, oozing blood thickly.

He smooths his sleeve over his arm, leaves his coat on so she won't see the bulge of the bandage. It might be too late, but there's no reason to set her off.

"Buffy?"

The stairs creak under him as he makes his way up to her bedroom. She's not the kind to give the silent treatment. Never really was a sulker, and the silence is starting to making him panic a little on the inside.

He pushes her door open. Nothing. No one. Just the dim glow of streetlights illuminating the ceiling through the blinds. He flicks the light on, hoping maybe he's just mistaken the emptiness.

But she's not there.

She's probably out. Down on a patrol somewhere. Maybe getting herself hurt... I should look for her. If she's upset, it could blind her at a bad moment... She's making too many bad decisions...

If she didn't keep making them I wouldn't have been down there. With them. She should be here with me. This is her fault just as much as mine! I just wanted to feel... needed. Wanted. How hard would that have been? Just once choose me over them? Just once cry on my shoulder, let me comfort her! Let me in just an inch!

You'd think with everything she's been through she could let me in to her heart just a tiny bit. Let me be there for her! She'd see how well I could be there for her!

The adrenaline to face her has evaporated leaving him exhausted. He sits down on her bed, biting his lip, runs his hands through his hair. He casts his glance around the room, crippled by the lack of her suddenly. There's a gap in her mirror where a picture used to be, and he freezes, heart filled with cold icy sorrow. Their picture. It's gone.

Did she come back just to take it down? Only to go out immediately after? She's fast but I would've seen her on the way out surely?

Or did she take it down earlier? Before tonight? Did she know about- about it all before tonight? Was she waiting to confront me?

Did she bring Spike along just to rub it in?

That's insane. She's not that sort of person. She never needs back-up. He thinks bitterly. Never has. And even if she did want back up she'd bring Willow. Would bring a girlfriend for support not Spike. I'm just getting in my own head about hi-

His train of thought dies. His swirling rampart thoughts falling out silent like dead birds out of the sky. His eye has caught a pile of laundry messily kicked to the back of the closet and underneath a heap of Buffy clothes, bright colours, girly patterns, soft sweaters, is something different.

Something dark.

Something black. With a paisley pattern.