Mortal Allies Series

Episode 5.1

War and Roses

By: Passion4Spike

RATED: MA – MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. EXPLICIT CONTENT

Story Summary:

Roleplaying is new to Buffy, but under Professor Spike's tender—and not so tender—tutelage, she proves to be a fast learner and his star pupil. Spike has a plan, a good plan, a lesson plan, and this time he definitely won't be getting bored.

Part of the Mortal Allies Series, but you don't need to know anything about that series to enjoy this hot, smutty, porn without plot one-shot.

Story Notes:

This fic was inspired by a 'fade to black' on what proved to be a VERY HOT role playing sex scene at the end of Chapter 28 of 'War and Roses'.

This 'lost scene' was co-authored by MissLuci and Passion4Spike, so how could it fail to be hot, hot, hot with a dash of sweetness? The answer, of course, is that it can't.

It was also co-beta'd by MissLuci and Passion4Spike, and since our eyes were kind of glazed, there may be errors, but hopefully YOUR eyes will be glazed too, and you won't notice them.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Notes:

For anyone who has not read the Mortal Allies Series, don't despair! Here is all you need to know to enjoy this very smutty, very HOT one shot:

Buffy and Spike are officially boyfriend and girlfriend and have been for a few weeks. All her friends, as well as her Watcher and her mom, knows and approves, or at least accepts, this. Spike and Buffy have had sex before many times. They are both enjoying Spike 'popping all her cherries' by having sex in places or ways she's never experienced before. The nom de guerre Spike has chosen to use in this AU is William Westfield (rather than William Pratt).

Warnings for: sex in public, exploration of voyerism/exhibitionism, teacher/student role playing, light BDSM, spanking. Everything is 100% consensual, and Buffy is 18, legally an adult. There is also a small amount of blood play; not biting, but taking blood from a small nick of Buffy's tongue. If you are a Mortal Allies reader, and any of this is triggering or squicks you or you just aren't in the mood—skip it! There is NO PLOT in this short. You will not miss anything plotty by not reading this.

Chapter 1: Star Pupil

Excerpt from the end of War and Roses, Chapter 28 - Adulting:

"Giles took that better than I thought he would," Buffy admitted to Spike as they walked down the empty hallways of Sunnydale High, moving away from the library.

"He's a right sod at times, but think he's sussed out doing things 'by the book' isn't what's gonna keep you alive and slayin'."

Buffy nodded. "It took almost killing all of us for him to get there."

"Which means he won't soon forget," Spike observed. "Think we can trust him to do the right thing in the future."

Another nod from the Slayer. "His lack of freaking out is totally of the good. I thought Lydia was gonna swallow her tongue a couple of times when I was talking about Dru and the oath."

Spike chuckled. "She's got a ways t' go, but think she'll come through for us."

"A Council Automaton coming through for the Slayer? First time for everything, I guess," Buffy muttered.

Spike snorted and pulled Buffy into a dark classroom. "Speaking o' first times... ever been bent over a school desk and shagged breathless?"

Buffy's eyes glittered in the dim light that filtered in from the darkening sky outside. She bit her lip in that way that made Spike's fangs itch and his groin tingle. "Noooo..." she crooned temptingly. "And I've been a very bad girl," she continued suggestively, dropping down into one of the chairs, letting her legs fall open as much as her short skirt would allow. "I might need to be taught a lesson or two by the big, bad vampire."

"Teaching bad girls lessons is my speciality," Spike rumbled, stalking over to her. "Now, let's see just how bad you've been, Miss Summers," he continued, coming up behind her. He slid his hands down her body, over her breasts, which pebbled beneath his touch, over her quivering stomach down over her skirt to her bare thighs. With deliberate slowness that had Buffy already breathless, he dipped his hands beneath her skirt, skimming over her silky thighs, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs wide.

"What have we here?" he murmured into her ear as he slid long, questing fingers to the junction of her thighs, rubbing them over the damp fabric of her panties. "Oh yes, a very bad girl, you are. So wet... who are you wet for, then?"

"Y-you..." she gasped back as he pressed harder, raking the lace roughly against her slit.

"Are you, then? Naughty girl, hot for William the Bloody. Definitely need t' be taught your lesson for that."

"H-How?" Buffy managed as her body bloomed with overwhelming desire.

"Thought we'd start with at the front of the class on your knees sucking my cock," Spike whispered against the tender skin of her neck. "Show all your little schoolmates what happens to bad girls, won't we?"

Buffy shuddered beneath him, a flood of slick, hot juice coating his fingers as they played with her pussy through the fabric of her panties.

"Like that, do you? Turn you on to have them watching you suck me off?"

Buffy started to shake her head negatively, but he wrapped his free arm beneath her chin in a loose chokehold, stopping her movement. "Liars get punished doubly," he warned, his voice a barely audible rumble against her flushed skin.

She swallowed hard, her mind whirling. There was no denying her body's reaction to the mental image he'd conjured. She remembered how 'The Joy of Sex' emphasized that nothing is 'bad' or 'wrong' as long as you both enjoyed it and you weren't hurting anyone. And she knew that for some people, just the fantasy of doing things was enough—you didn't actually have to do them—and the image he'd painted definitely had her body quivering with excitement.

She bit her lip again and nodded against his arm. "Y-Yes," she breathed.

Spike grinned. God, she's a bloody wonder! He couldn't wait to discover everything that turned her on and explore it all thoroughly. "Good girl... learning already, you are," he praised her, stroking her face gently with one hand, as the other remained between her thighs. "Gonna show your little mates how bad girls suck cock, how they moan and beg and swallow it down like manna from sodding heaven. Put you right up front, have them gather round to get a good view of you on your knees. Then, when your sweet juices are flowing down your thighs and dripping on the floor, I'll bend you over my desk, lift your skirt to show 'em your pretty pussy, and fuck you 'til you scream. Have the whole class hard or wet by the time I'm done with you... give them a proper 'sex education', we will.

"That sound like a proper lesson, my naughty Slayer?"

"Oh, god...yes." Buffy's hips jerked against Spike's hand as a flurry of dancing glitter swirled behind her closed lids, pleasure and need twining around inside her like an orgasmic vine.

"Love you so fucking much," he murmured against her ear before leading her to the front of the room…

-X-

Buffy felt her legs getting more wobbly the closer they got to the desk. Her pussy was throbbing with need, but her stomach was doing summersaults as she nervously anticipated the lessons Spike had promised. This was more than one cherry, this was a whole pie full of cherries that were about to be obliterated in one delirious bite.

Still moving forward with a firm grip on her hand, but somehow sensing her slight hesitation, Spike whispered, "Rats?"

Buffy felt the knot that had started to form in her belly loosen up. Rats was their safe word. Spike was asking if she was okay. She could trust him. "Um… no," she answered as they reached the edge of the metal desk and Spike dropped her hand.

He turned and leaned against the edge. The angle caused his hips to jut forward, highlighting the distinctive outline of his erection. Buffy's fingers itched to release it from its zipper-bound prison and run her tongue and teeth over his length. Spike propped his hands on the steel, his biceps bulging almost as impressively as his jean-clad cock.

Buffy clasped her hands behind her back and shook her head demurely. "Definitely no rats."

"Very well, then. First of all, you'll address me as Mr. Westfield… or sir, or Mr. Westfield, sir. Do you understand, Miss Summers?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Westfield, sir." Buffy tried to stifle a giggle, but a small snort escaped and she saw Spike's lips quirk up in a smile, both of them breaking character for a moment.

Spike moved around the desk and sat in the teacher's chair, his hands clasped before him, oh so properly. "Come closer."

Buffy moved around the corner towards him.

"Stop!"

"But you said…"

"Climb up here." He patted the surface of the desk.

Buffy bit down on her bottom lip, but did as she was told. His eyes roamed over her like a physical caress as she stood in front of him, above him. She felt like she was on display, as if his heated gaze was burning away every scrap of clothing, leaving her bare and vulnerable, a sensation that turned her on more than she'd expected.

She fidgeted and awaited further instruction, swallowing nervously, trying to catch his eye, but Spike's intense gaze was intent on her body, drifting up her bare legs and lingering at their apex, before gliding up to drink in her tits, then back down, making her squirm like a bug trapped beneath a glass.

Finally, he broke the thick, hot silence, standing up abruptly. "Let's just do a quick weapons check, shall we?" Spike slid his hands up from her ankles to the juncture of her thighs, his thumbs teasing her outer folds, already wet with anticipation.

Buffy moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Ah, ah, none of that…" Spike chastised, as his hands danced across her firm tummy and settled on the flare of her hips. "Tsk tsk tsk…what is this?" He flicked the end of her stake that was wedged down the side of her skirt, pinned against her outer thigh.

"Um…"

"Drop it," he demanded.

Buffy took the stake out and let it dangle from her fingers before allowing it to fall. It clattered to the desk before toppling onto the floor and rolling away.

"Much better." Spike ran his hands up her arms and down her sides, sending shivers through her when his fingers feathered over the curve of her breasts. He stopped at her waist, and the leather sheath which held her favorite small knife. "This too."

Buffy unhooked the clasp and handed the weapon to Spike.

"Anything else hidden away?"

Buffy shook her head. "No…"

"No, what?"

"Uh… no, sir."

Spike looked thoughtful for a moment. "Like bein' on display, Slayer?" he asked in a low rumble. "Make your heart race? Your cunny throb?"

Buffy couldn't deny that it did, especially with the way Spike was looking at her, with hunger and adoration, and a flame of lust dancing in his eyes.

"No lies…" he reminded her when she hesitated.

The Slayer ducked her head, suddenly shy. "Yes…" At his raised brow, she added, "Sir."

Spike bit back a smile. Her heartbeat pounded against his ears like a bass drum, reverberating through him, making him feel like his own heart was galloping along with hers. "Okay then, shall we begin?" He gestured for her to step off the desk.

Buffy swallowed hard and nodded, climbing down and standing with her hands clasped behind her back.

Spike took her by the elbow and led her around to the front of the desk. He leaned in and whispered. "Need to make sure the kiddies have the perfect view, yeah?"

"Yes, sir!" Buffy snapped her heels and gave him a mock salute.

Spike's answering grin was all the encouragement she needed as she boldly reached for him. Before she could do more than graze her fingers over his belt, he grabbed both hands.

"Miss Summers."

Buffy looked up at his harsh tone, and gasped at the lecherous, animalistic gleam in his eyes as he growled, "Have I given you permission to touch?"

Okay, this is part of the game. "N-N-No."

The thunderous glare he shot her way made her stammer, "I-I mean, n-no, Mr. Westfield, sir."

"Very good. Now that you've relinquished your weapons, we may begin. You've been sent here by the headmaster because you broke the rules, haven't you?"

Buffy nodded, unable to speak as the low timbre of Spike's voice rumbled through her, causing a needy gasp to fall from her lips.

"Miss Summers, I asked you a question…"

"I… yes… sir."

"And you need correction."

"Yes…" she agreed as fireflies began fluttering madly in her stomach, setting her core ablaze.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'm here because I… I broke the rules and I need to learn my lesson… from you, sir."

"That's better. Now, face the class and tell them what you've done."

Buffy blinked and looked back at the empty desks, but wasn't sure what to say. It was… weird. There wasn't anyone there to talk to.

"The class is waiting, Miss Summers," Spike urged, turning her fully to face 'the class'. With his hands on her upper arms, he molded his body to hers back and looked over her shoulder at the classroom. "Tell me who's in class t'day. Who's gonna witness your lessons? Your little mates? Red? Harris?"

"NO!" Buffy blurted out immediately. That was just too wiggy, even pretending.

"Passing acquaintances then… or strangers?"

She swallowed. "S-strangers," she stuttered out.

"Right, then… class full o' new transfers. Seems fitting for them t' learn what will happen if they misbehave. So, look around at all these shining faces and tell us all what you've done that brings you here today to serve as a horrible warning to naughty schoolgirls."

Buffy looked around at the empty seats, letting her imagination fill in faces… curious, eager faces, all looking at her with wide-eyed interest. Gooseflesh raced up and down her body at the thought of people watching… watching her, watching what Spike was surely going to do to her during her lessons. She used to pretend that Spike was watching her as she got herself off, alone in her room, but she'd never thought of strangers watching her do that. Was she some kind of deviant? A Peeping Tom? No, she was the person being peeped on by Tom… by a whole room full of Peeping Toms and Leering Lauras. What was that called—the peep-ee?

"Miss Summers. The class is waiting."

She cleared her throat and lowered her gaze to the worn linoleum, her hands clasped humbly in front of her. "I fell in love with a vampire."

Spike couldn't help but smile. His girl was bloody brilliant, ready and willing even though he knew this kind of roleplay was something she'd never done. Not only the naughty school girl, but the exhibitionist, as well. That short little skirt barely covered her arse. Paired as it was with the tails of the button down tied around her waist and the tank top stretched tight over her perky tits, it's a wonder he could even walk with such a raging hard-on. Now she was willing to stand up in front of a class full of her peers while he fucked her. Well, invisible peers, but still. Bloody hell, there were times he still wasn't sure this was really his life. How could one undead bloke get so lucky?

"And why's that against the rules?" he prompted.

"Because I'm the Slayer.

"And falling for a creature of the night makes you a bad Slayer, does it not?"

God, he sounds like Giles! "The baddest."

"The baddest, sir," Spike corrected, suppressing a smile. "And why is that, Miss Summers?"

"I'm supposed to kill him, uh, sir."

"But you can't?"

"Never, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because I love him. We are like two halves of a heart that can only beat if we're together… sir."

Spike's voice cracked as he answered. "It seems you truly do love him."

"With everything I have. Heart, soul, mind, body… all of me loves all of him."

"Please state this vile vampire's name for the class."

"William the Bloody, also known as Spike."

"He sounds quite terrible."

"The terrible-ist." Buffy nodded emphatically.

This time Spike didn't try to stop the grin. She's so bloody cute. "And loving this Spike bloke is what makes you a bad Slayer? This is why you've been sent here for lessons… for discipline?"

Buffy nodded. "I'm not supposed to…to love him… uh, Mr. Westfield, sir."

"Then why don't you stop?"

"Because I can't. I could never. He loves me too. We… We were meant for each other. We've both been lost, our hearts were broken and empty until we found each other. Now… Now I can't imagine not being with him. He makes my heart whole… we make each other's hearts whole."

Buffy imagined the students sighing audibly. 'Awwww.'

"Seems t' me that a transcendent love like yours should be celebrated, not punished. Reckon it would be easier to persuade the sun not to rise or force the waves in the ocean cease their endless pounding upon the sand than to keep you from your love."

Oh god, my sweet poet, William. "That's so true! So… so you see, I really shouldn't be punished at all. The headmaster was totally out of line. You… you should just let me go back to Algebra II. I mean, that seems like plenty of punishment right there, um, sir."

"Ah, ah," Spike warned, stepping around in front of her before she could move. "Not so fast, missy. All that romantic drivel is well and good, but rules have been broken; lessons must be learned. I've a job to do, and never let it be said Professor Westfield has shirked his duties.

"Now, tell us again why you're here."

Buffy chewed her lip and lowered her gaze. "I shouldn't… we shouldn't… love each other, we really shouldn't."

Spike touched her cheek and tilted his head to the side. "And why's that?"

She looked up at Spike through her lashes, her pouty lips glistening. "Because it's wrong."

"Punishment is in order, lessons will be learned. After all, you admit these feelings of yours are completely against your nature as a Slayer, not to mention against the rules set by man. You, Miss Summers, must pay the price for your hubris." Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and winked. "It's only fair. Don't you agree?"

Buffy nodded. "Yes, Spi…uh, sir."

"And just what do you reckon your punishment should be?"

"I… I don't know, sir. Algebra II?"

Spike chuckled darkly. "No, I'd wager there's only one way to get that vampire out of your system, and teach you a proper respect of the rules."

"W-What's that, sir?"

"Gonna have to drive him out… with my tongue, and my fingers, and my cock. Gonna have to punish you like the bad Slayer you are, and show all your little classmates what happens when they break the rules. Gonna have to fuck you until you forget William the Bloody ever existed."

"Oh." Buffy flushed, her wet panties unable to contain the new flood of arousal. She shifted self-consciously and felt the hot, slick juice dampen her thighs.

"Got consequences, doesn't it? Being bad. Reckon it's time you learned that, don't you?"

Buffy cleared her throat. "Y-Yes, sir."

"Lesson the first." Spike combed his fingers into Buffy's hair, fitting his palm over the back of her neck, his cool fingers a balm to her heated flesh. She felt his breath skittering over her skin, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as he whispered, "On your knees, Slayer."

Buffy felt the cold linoleum floor, worn smooth from years of use, and slightly sticky from old wax, pressing hard into her knees. Her eyes raked over Spike's cock, still straining for release from its denim prison, but she'd already learned—wait for permission to touch.

Spike continued to run his fingers through her hair, spreading it over her shoulders and down her back in a cascade of spun gold. Buffy's jade green eyes were shining and a small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Spike was barely able to maintain his authoritarian glare as he ordered her back on her feet. "Changed my mind. Get up."

The Slayer looked confused, but slowly stood.

He pointed to the desk. "Bend over."

Buffy felt a flush spread over every inch of her skin as she obediently leaned against the cold metal surface. She could feel Spike moving behind her and she gasped when she heard the distinctive sound of leather sliding quickly through fabric. She glanced over her shoulder. Spike had shrugged off his duster and was holding his belt by the buckle. Buffy watched him wrap the leather around his palm and over the back of his hand. Her body reacted with a delicious shudder at the sight of the worn leather in his strong, calloused hand. His fingers shook slightly as he reached toward the small of her back. She could tell he was as turned on as she was, barely holding himself in check. That realization only made her tremble more, the anticipation racing through her blood like electric sparks. She groaned as he pressed her down until she felt her tits compressing against the desk. He caught her eye and what she saw reflected made her grateful for the metal platform on which she rested as the hungry gleam turned her knees to jelly.

Spike could hardly believe the way Buffy was looking at him. The trust he saw humbled him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, would never try to break her spirit or shatter her heart. She was stronger than anyone he'd ever met, but she was willing to give him control, knowing he would never do anything she didn't fully desire. God, her eyes, her perfect lips encouraging him with a small, if nervous, smile. He could smell her excitement, practically taste it in the air. She wanted him, wanted this as much as he did. He wanted to make it perfect for her, give her another perfect cherry popping experience. He was breathing heavily as he reached for her, filling his lungs with great draughts of unnecessary air, feeling the need to breathe her in, drink the air and swallow her scent until it became a part of him.

His hands trailed up the inside of her thighs, gently nudging them apart. He flipped up the short skirt to reveal a black lace thong, barely concealing her dripping cunt from his ravenous gaze. Rather than tearing the fabric away from her perfectly spread cheeks, he slid a finger along the thin bit that nestled in the crevice of her ass. He slipped his digit lower and lightly caressed her throbbing pussy, gathering the dampness and tracing it over the tight bud of her ass.

"Take a look, children," Spike called, clearly speaking to their invisible audience. "See what a perfect, unblemished arse she has… won't be that way for long, will it? Gonna have my mark on it soon enough." Then, more quietly, to Buffy, "They're all looking at your fine arse, Slayer. Ogling your pretty knickers and your dripping quim. Reckon all the boys are sporting woodies by now, just thinking about this soft flesh." He filled one palm with the round globe of her arse and squeezed. "Can't say I can blame them. Got a right painful cock stand myself. And the girls, well, they're just as wet as you are, pet. Turn 'em all on, you do, you and your wet pussy."

Buffy shivered, picturing an audience of hot, horny teens watching them… watching Spike bare her to them. It was surprisingly erotic, in a slightly terrifying way, and sent a extra thrill of frission straight to her core. She really was a deviant… and so was Spike, apparently. They had matching deviant-nesses… which made them not deviants at all.

She could feel the trailing edge of the belt as it brushed against her legs. Her stomach did another flip as she wondered exactly how it would feel to have that strip of leather applied to her skin. She whimpered as Spike's fingers continued to stroke over her most sensitive places, teasing each opening and spreading her slick, hot cream. She wanted to beg him to touch her clit, fuck her with his fingers, his tongue, his cock, do something other than this slow torturous glide back and forth, teasing, tantalizing, but never thrusting, never pumping, never entering her, keeping her throbbing and needy, wanting and waiting.

Finally, he pressed one wet finger inside her cunt and stroked… once, twice. She nearly cried in frustration as she felt him leave her empty once again. A moment later, her back arched and she gasped as she felt the same finger slide almost effortlessly into her ass while another finger teased her clit. "Spike, god, please…"

"Name's Mr. Westfield, and didn't give you permission to speak, now did I?" he growled, his voice sounding shaky and uneven, the cadence of his words matching Buffy's own heavy breathing as she tried desperately to thrust herself against his hand.

"N-No… but…"

Suddenly, the slow gentle stroking of Spike's fingers was withdrawn and before she realized what was happening she heard a whoosh followed by a sharp snap of pain across her cheeks. All discomfort was eclipsed by white hot pleasure that zinged across her flesh and settled directly in her core, making her throb with a need so great she thought she would burst into flames at any moment.

"Fuck!" she screamed, nearly coming undone, ready to crack after a few light touches and one hard smack. God, what was happening to her? Was she really the same girl who'd worried she wasn't adventurous enough, the same girl who thought she wouldn't be enough? Here she was now, bent over a desk in a classroom at her school. A classroom filled with invisible students, her vampire lover fondling her ass, stroking her pussy and spanking her with his belt. Someone—a non-invisible, totally not make-believe someone—could walk in at any time and she didn't care, she wanted more.

"Learned your lesson yet?" Spike asked.

Buffy was struggling to breathe, her heart racing, her mind whirling, but she managed, "N-No… I love him. I still love him."

"SIR!" Spike reminded her with another sharp slap of the leather.

Buffy jerked, her body trembling with unholy desire. "Sir," she gasped out.

"The more you defy me, the more lashes you'll get, Slayer," he hinted warningly. The 'out' was there, Buffy knew it. She didn't take it. Didn't want to take it.

"I'll never stop loving him, no matter what you do. Spank me all you want. I'll never stop! SIR!"

"As you wish."

His sweet words were a sharp contrast to several rapid fire smacks from the belt that left her ass on fire and her pussy throbbing, hot and wet, weeping for his touch. She couldn't believe how the intense pleasure mixed with the stinging pain on her backside to elicit such a primal reaction. She could feel a growing dampness coating her thighs, dripping down her legs. She was going to cum from this alone, from the anticipation, the intensity of sensation. She wiggled, desperately trying to rub herself against something, anything. Where was Spike? She needed more. She was so close.

"Still… love… him…" she gasped. Again! Do it again!

This time the smack was lighter, but over a larger surface, and Buffy realized he'd dropped the belt. His hand folded over her cheek where it landed and kneaded the warm flesh. His fingers were tantalizingly close to her slit, but instead of touching her where she wanted him most, he ran them down her inner thigh with a feather-light touch, gathering up her dripping juice. She heard him moan as he sucked his drenched fingers into his mouth.

"God, you taste like heaven." Spike shook himself and got back into character. He stepped to the side and turned, addressing the class. "This is what happens when you break the rules, children. My mark all over your cherry arses. Don't want that t' happen, now, do ya?"

Buffy pictured a class full of wide-eyed, frightened kids shaking their heads negatively. She would've answered in the negative herself not so long ago. But now… now she just wanted more. Wanted him to touch her, fuck her, spank her, punish her and make her cum. She could almost feel the invisible eyes on her. Her ass, red with Spike's punishments, her pussy, dripping with need. Instead of making her feel less, it made her feel powerful, beautiful, desirable… a goddess, like Spike called her so often.

The Slayer smiled as she felt him shift to stand behind her again as his hand moved between her legs, gently nudging the lacy fabric away from her labia and tapping lightly over the swollen folds. Her back arched and she cried out as his other hand once again rewarded her ass with another firm smack. The contrast between the tenderness of his fingers and the pleasurable ache from the hard slap had her quivering with need. She'd never been so close to the edge without falling over, and she knew the next touch, whether it be a light stroke or a sharp slap, would have her spilling her cum into his hand. She whimpered in anticipation then nearly screamed in frustration as she felt him pull away.

"Think that's enough." He lifted her nearly limp form from the desk, turned her to face him and pressed down on her shoulders. "Time to show some teacher appreciation." He smirked as he pushed her to her knees.

Buffy's brain was reeling and her cunt throbbing as she knelt before him, more in shock than obedience. "You're evil!" she snapped.

"You're evil, sir," he corrected, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Vampire, pet. S'what the lesson's about. Now, show the class how t' suck me off, Slayer… Wouldn't want them leaving here without a proper demonstration."

Buffy glared at her lover before reaching for the button on his jeans, popping it open and yanking his zipper down.

"Oi!" he flinched. "Watch the bits!"

Buffy ignored his protest and roughly shoved his jeans to the floor. She quickly fisted his cock in one hand, squeezing a bit harder than she normally would. Judging from his guttural moan, he didn't mind. She grabbed his ass with the other hand, pulling him none too gently towards her face. Her mouth moved over the engorged head of his cock and she sucked him in deep, then deeper still. Her hand slipped to his balls and squeezed as she swallowed him down, past her gag reflex, into her throat.

She paused as she concentrated for a moment on breathing through her nose. It wasn't unlike meditation, although she was completely sure this was not like anything Giles had in mind. In fact, her Watcher was probably still in the library. She wondered how much polishing his glasses would need if he were to walk in and see them. She nearly choked on a bubble of laughter that threatened to escape as she imagined explaining how it was actually a training exercise and how it took a lot of meditative Zen qualities to deep throat someone of Spike's size.

Before she lost it completely, she employed more of her Slayer training and refocused on the sensation of Spike's cock throbbing inside her throat and how his hands were flexing in time with her slowly bobbing head. She began moving harder and faster, kneading his balls and squeezing his ass. His hands were in her hair, tightly fisted against her scalp, she glanced up to see his head thrown back. He was swallowing convulsively as he fought to stay in control.

"That's right, Slayer. Take my fucking cock like the bad girl you are. Won't want that vampire after you're done sucking my prick. Gonna fuck him right outta you. Buffy, fuck! So bloody hot, burning me up!"

Buffy thought about stopping, but decided she wasn't pure evil like her vampire, there would be chances to tease him another time. Right now, she wanted to play her part perfectly and be a good, obedient student. She wanted Spike to come hard and coat her throat with his spendings. She loved making him roar with pleasure, loved knowing she was the cause of his eyes rolling back in ecstasy, loved hearing him fall apart with her name on his lips and feel his cum fill her belly. She swallowed again and sucked him in impossibly deeper, her nose buried in his curls, inhaling the musky sweet scent that was Spike with each long stroke. Her eyes closed as she concentrated on swallowing him whole.

"Slayer…fuck! Can't… hold… FUCK!" Spike shouted as his demon came howling to the surface, his yellow eyes immediately drawn to the blonde goddess on her knees between his legs.

She felt Spike's balls tighten in her hand as his voice rattled the windows. His cock swelled and began to spasm madly as he jerked his hips against her face. She relaxed her grip on his ass and gentled her hold on his balls, feeling her throat milking him as he continued to fill her with his cum. As his shuddering climax began to abate, Buffy slowly released his semi-erect cock, giving it a chaste kiss on the tip as it slipped free. She looked up, not at all surprised to see yellow eyes gazing at her with complete adoration. If she hadn't been sure before now, it was completely obvious that the demon was as much in love with her as the man.

Buffy stood, ran her fingers over his brow, and kissed his lips, deliberately nicking her tongue on one sharp fang.

Spike groaned as the Slayer's rich blood dripped into his mouth. He gentled the kiss and ran his tongue over the small wound, gathering each drop of crimson life and feeling it fill him with her light. "Buffy…" he whispered.

She pulled away and placed one hand on his cheek. With the other, she stroked his bumpy nose with her fingertip, knowing how much the demon enjoyed this gentle touch. He leaned into the caress and kissed her palm.

"Did I give a 'proper demonstration'?"

The arched brow and curious look on his face made Buffy giggle. He looks like a confused kitten. "To the class… teacher appreciation." She waved a hand at the empty desks. "Cock Sucking 101? Was it… satisfactory, sir?"

"Oh!"

Spike shifted and suddenly she was drowning in a sea of blue, adrift in the depths while at the same time, missing his leonine yellow. She wondered what it would be like to have them both at the same time—demon and man, side by side, both of them loving her. She indulged the fantasy for a moment and wondered if Spike ever thought the same. Would he enjoy having Buffy and the Slayer separated, both parts of her loving him at the same time? Maybe that was another cherry they could explore, though she wasn't exactly sure how that particular scenario would work.

"Think you did alright—for a beginner."

"A… what did you call me?"

Spike's face broke into a wide smile making his eyes crinkle up in the corners in the most adorable way. "Ya know I'm teasin', luv. That was one o' the most brilliant things I've ever experienced. I'm sure the class is marinatin' in their own juices about now and wishing they were me."

"One of?" Buffy crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

"Well, yeah… there was the hotel floor and the bed, and the time we didn't make it to the bed and then after brekkie, then…"

Buffy laughed as she put a finger to his lips. The old insecurities that Angel had planted so deeply, which had grown out of control in the year since her seventeenth birthday, withered to little more than dry, brittle husks under Spike's tender… or not so tender, care. "Okay, I get the picture. But there's just one problem, sir."

"What's that, Miss Summers?"

"I still love him. You haven't fucked William the Bloody out of me yet."

"Haven't I, then?"

"Nope. Not even a little bit. So, what comes next, sir?" Buffy asked as she bounced on the balls of her feet, eagerly awaiting further instruction, avarice sparkling in her defiant gaze like green flames.

Spike straightened up, schooling his features into something more formidable than his boyish grin, returning to his authoritarian enforcer persona. He pulled his jeans up over his hips, but left them unzipped, so his quickly hardening cock rested over the open vee, then he smoothed his hands over his tee, pointedly ignoring the way her eyes hungrily followed the path of his fingers.

Buffy could almost imagine he was wearing a button up shirt with a tie like the one he wore on their perfect date for National Hot Chocolate Day. She wished he was wearing one now so she could tug him by the neck and put him where she wanted him most…between her tits, buried in the juncture of her thighs with his tongue between her folds, licking and sucking until she came all over his face, then she could haul him roughly against her lips for a soul searing kiss that tasted of them both. Yes, Spike should definitely wear a tie—a collar and leash?—more often.

She was pulled from her delicious fantasy of Spike with a studded collar and a sinful leather leash by his voice. "Lesson the second: ask the right question."

Buffy blinked, refocusing."Which is?"

"Not what comes next, it's whom." Spike grabbed her arm and spun her around, his lips against her throat, tongue dancing over the mark made by his git of a great, great grandsire, who his glorious Slayer laid waste to, grinding the bat-faced wanker's bones to dust. He bent her over the desk again, her skirt already pushed up to her hips, this time he didn't hesitate to rip the delicate lace in half, leaving the black fabric dangling between the red globes of her ass. "Gonna fuck you 'til you scream now, you bad, bad Slayer. Gonna fuck that vampire right outta you. Teach you good and proper, make ya pay for breaking the rules."

"Mmnug…" Buffy bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"You want that?" he teased as he swatted her lightly with his cock.

"Never… fuck him… out of… me," she gasped back.

"Dunno how bad I can be… but you will."

"Never… stop loving him."

"Care t' test that theory?"

"Do your worst."

"You want my worst?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, s-s-sir."

"That's better, but I need you to say it again, a little louder this time. The boys in the back can't hear you." He ran the tip of his erection over the puckered hole of her ass pressing lightly and moving away before rubbing the precum over her tight hole with a finger. "Tell me what you want, Slayer." His blunt teeth nibbled her neck. "What do you want the big bad professor to do to you?"

"God damn it, Spike! I want you to… to fuck me! Uh… please."

Spike chuckled at her use of his name, but he wasn't done with his lessons. "What did you call me?" he snarled.

"Um…I, uh…"

"Say it again, only do it right this time or there will be consequences."

"Please, sir, I want you to… fuck me."

"Love to hear you beg. Not in your nature, is it?"

"I… I'm not begging. I'm demanding! I dare you to fuck me until I can't remember his name. It will never happen. I love only him, I need him to fuck me."

"Such a bad Slayer, so desperate for your vampire, begging—"

"Not begging," she argued.

Spike smirked. "You say demanding, I hear begging. Bloody hot, it is," he countered.

"Oh…" she gulped. It was somehow freeing to be able to beg… to be needy and, okay, even desperate. Because she was all those things.

"Begging him to fuck you. You love being fucked, dontcha, Slayer? Love his cock inside you? Love his fingers driving into you. Love his tongue sucking the honey from your sweet cunt."

"Y-Yes," she managed past her hammering heart.

She gasped as she felt the finger he'd been teasing her with slip inside the tight star of her ass, he quickly followed with a second. She felt a deep burning heat as he began to stretch her open.

"Gonna love getting fucked up the arse, Slayer?"

Buffy's head was swimming, her body on fire. She'd never… but of course he knew that. Cherries. Cherries were exploding like Pop Rocks in a bottle of Coke.

"Rats?" he murmured gently against her neck.

"No…" she gasped as she felt a third finger graze over the burning ring and slide over the rim.

"Gonna fuck you now, Slayer. Gonna bugger you with my hand and fuck you with my cock. Gonna take you like you've never been taken before. Take you like the bad girl you are. That what you want?"

She could feel his hardness pressing against her dripping cunt, see from the corner of her eye that his jeans were puddled on the floor again. Her pussy throbbed with the wanting of him, the needing of him, and she could feel her ass tingling in the most delicious way. She'd never felt anything like this before; so much pent-up desire boiling inside her, desperate to explode. "God, yes, Spike," Buffy pleaded as the engorged tip of his cock slowly pressed into her willing heat.

And stopped. "Name's Westfield… you'd be wise t' remember it, Miss Summers, and put that Spike bloke outta your mind."

"I… he… you…" she stammered, unable to keep the roles and names straight at that moment. There was too much and not enough. It was overwhelming, and yet she needed more… more whelming. All the whelming! "More! God, please, please fuck me. Fuck me hard!"

"You gonna stop loving that vampire?"

"Never!"

"Do you bloody promise?"

"Yes! God, yes! Just fuck me… please! I'm begging you!"

Spike growled and surged forward, slamming his cock into her, deep and hard.

She squeezed around him as he drove in to the hilt, pinning her against the desk. Buffy grabbed the other side and held on, lifting up on her tiptoes and begging for more. "More, Spike, more!"

"More what, you stubborn, shirty Slayer?"

"More… more everything." She wanted more of his cock hitting that spot inside and more of his fingers sliding in an alternate rhythm in her ass.

Spike added a third finger to his stroke, pulling her tight virgin ass open wide as he slammed his cock harder and faster into her willing cunt. She felt her whole world begin to spin as he moved faster, fucking her hard, splitting her in two, making him hers. "Yes! Fuck me! God, you feel so good. Harder, Spike!"

"Like that, do you? Like having a vampire at your throat, fucking your hot cunt, with my fingers in your sweet, virgin ass?"

"Yes, Spike, yes!"

"You want even more, Slayer? Tell me."

"I want more, Spike, more of you, all of you, baby, please, God!"

"You gonna stop loving William the Bloody?"

"NO!"

"You gonna stop wanting him fucking you?"

"NEVER!"

For one split second, she felt herself empty, then Spike's cock was pressing against her ass, slick and hot from her cunt.

"Gonna bugger you properly now. Tell me you want it. Want my spunk filling you, drippin' from your sweet bud. You want that? Want me deep inside you? Touching all those forbidden places?"

For a moment the only sound was Buffy's harsh, rasping breaths. She tried to think… this should be wrong, shouldn't it? Forbidden, like Spike said. But, god, his fingers had felt so good there, and… yes… she did want it. She wanted it desperately. To feel him inside her there. It should scare her, but it didn't, because it was Spike.

"You'll… never… fuck… him… out of… me," she gasped, turning and looking back over her shoulder at him, her eyes burning like green embers. "Even if you fuck my ass and fill me with your spunk. I'll always love him."

Spike's answering grin was evil and awestruck all at once. He pushed into her, their eyes locked as the head of his cock penetrated past the tight ring of muscle. Buffy gasped, her eyes fluttering closed, her body shuddering from the new sensation as his cock pressed inside.

"Gonna fuck you now, Slayer," he murmured, running his hands over her hips and the soft, round globes of her ass. "Gonna fill you with my jizz and make you scream."

Buffy's teeth closed on her lower lip as she opened her eyes and met his rapturous gaze once again. "I'll scream his name… not yours."

"We'll see…" Spike growled as he began to move, slowly at first, building the strokes as she pushed back against him. Buffy's hair was a whirlwind of gold strands as she threw her head back, arching her back, giving herself to him fully. Spike felt her open for him, her slick walls squeezing and pulsing around his prick was almost enough to make him spill too soon. When she bucked against him, he growled and increased the tempo, plunging into her delectable ass harder and faster. His hand grabbed her hip in an iron grip and pulled her against him with each thrust. Buffy felt tears, not from pain, but from an unimaginable, other-worldly pleasure start to trickle down her cheeks as Spike rode her body, plundered her depths, taking her higher than she could have imagined. His voice rolled over her like thunder, dirty whispers, lauding declarations, adoring murmurs, cursing reveries. The words and timbre melded into one, making her heart tremble and her body sing.

Her vampire reached around with his free hand and began to rub her clit, his blunt teeth nibbling her neck, sucking the blood to the surface with his lips.

"So beautiful, my glorious Slayer. Burn me up, you do. Never get enough o' you… want you… always. Want to be inside you, filling you, feeling your heat, your power, your sodding fire burning me up. You're fucking perfect, Buffy… my gilded goddess. I'm yours… forever yours, always yours."

"So good… feel so good. Yours… I'm yours. More, Spike…please…" she begged through the fog of blissful desire.

She felt him clamp down on her neck with his blunt teeth and a flash of Slayer adrenaline exploded into her veins. The urge to fight, to slay, was strong, but not as strong as her need, her lust… and his teeth digging into her flesh only fueled her ravenous hunger. Spike seemed to sense the change in her as he rubbed her clit with his thumb and plunged his fingers into her pussy, hooking them inward in a come hither motion, hitting the spot only he had touched.

Everything inside the Slayer began to coalesce. She was sure her body was shrinking and expanding at the same time, burning with a white hot flame while blinking out into a black hole, as Spike drove her body over the edge of ecstasy into another world. She wondered briefly if it were possible to die of pleasure. She felt her pussy spasm in a vice-like grip around his fingers and her ass clamp down on his cock as she lost control, and wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her body, bathing her in a cascade of pure bliss. She heard a loud scream—was that her?—followed by an earth-shaking roar as she floated away into the blackness of nothing and soared through the brightness of everything.

Buffy blinked in confusion. She was pressed against Spike's heaving chest, her own breath coming in great gasps. They were on the floor and he was leaning against the desk, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. She was sprawled over his lap, her skirt nearly shredded, her panties non-existent, his own jeans tangled round one leg, the other leg bare save a sock that was barely covering his toes. Somewhere along the way, he'd kicked his boots off. Buffy tried to lift her head to look around, but it was too heavy, and moving would have been not of the good. Snuggling with Spike though, definitely of the good. She sighed heavily and brushed a kiss over his chin and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Okay, pet?"

"More than."

"Still love your vampire?"

"More than ever," she sighed dreamily.

"He loves you too… more than ever."

"Whose name did I scream?" she wondered drowsily.

Spike smiled like the Cheshire cat. "Your vampire's."

Buffy snuggled impossibly closer, another sigh slipping from her lips. "Told you so."

They sat there in blissful reverie for long minutes. Spike's hands stroking her lovingly, his spunk, as promised, seeping from her tight bud, mixing with her own cum that coated her swollen folds and golden thighs.

"Think my baby needs a bit of cleaning up," he suggested when the scent of her perfectly debauched body had his cock standing at attention yet again.

Buffy protested with a tired groan as he picked up her limp form and gently laid her on the desk. "Want more cuddles," she pouted.

"I'd wager you'll not mind a bit of tidying; not the way I do it, at any rate. Need to have a taste of my girl."

"I thought I was the student."

"That too," he agreed as he began to swipe his tongue up her legs. "Seems our masks slipped a bit. Still worthwhile t' teach the class how important proper hygiene is."

"Mmmm…" she moaned in pleasure as his cool tongue trailed up her overheated skin. "Doesn't sound very much like an evil teacher to me," she muttered as she let her legs fall open for him.

"What can I say? Professor Westfield is an excellent disciplinarian." He peppered kisses up her thighs as he lifted her knees.

"Mmmmm…" Buffy let her head drop back onto the metal desktop as Spike's tongue lapped against her still throbbing cunt. "You do seem quite dedicated."

"Want the class to have a thorough education," Spike agreed. He tongued the tender opening of her ass and gave it several gentle kisses.

"Oh, god, that feels good."

"S'possed to," Spike murmured as he continued to swipe his tongue over her sensitive flesh. "Not done with the lessons yet."

"We're not?" Buffy propped herself up on her elbows, her tired body suddenly perking up again.

Spike shook his head as he flattened his tongue over her folds and slipped it directly up the center before sharpening it into a point and flicking it over her sensitive clit.

"Oh!" Buffy's hips jerked against his face.

"That's my girl," he chuckled and slipped his tongue inside her walls, drinking in the musky-sweet taste of his Buffy. Her knees fell open further as he lifted her hips by cradling her ass in the palms of his hands. He gazed at the sight of his girl, spread open like a perfect, ripe peach. He wondered if she'd ever let him photograph her like this—beautiful—wet and dripping her sweet nectar, lips swollen and ready for his kiss, her glorious cunt beckoning him inside, begging for his fingers, his tongue, his rock hard cock. He could barely tear his eyes away from her effulgence, but her scent was drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He needed to keep tasting her like this, freshly debauched and still glistening with their combined juice.

He nudged her clit with his nose and placed a reverent kiss over the rim of her cunt, slowly slipping his tongue inside. He felt her muscles contracting over his tongue as he dove in and curled it upwards, expertly teasing the spongy bundle of nerves. She writhed and moaned and pulled his hair. She begged and cried and still he drank, his tongue never leaving her, his nose rubbing gently, then with greater force against her engorged clit. He could feel her begin to tremble beneath him. Her legs were shaking and he could hear her saying his name, whispering it like a prayer and screaming it as a curse, but he would not stop, he wanted to devour her passion as it poured forth. She cried out and arched her back. Her thighs clamped tightly around his head and he felt her inner walls rippling wildly over his tongue. He fought against the demon, next time, mate, this one's all mine. He thrust his tongue hard against the now quivering mass and rapidly flicked his nose over her clit as the last shuddering breaths fell from her lips and her knees slackened, falling open once again, her body quivering with her release.

Buffy lay still, convinced that she'd died and gone to heaven. She was sure that with a minimum of effort she could easily rise up from her body and watch herself from above. She slowly became aware of her limbs once again as her breathing leveled out. She could feel Spike's hair tickling her side. She wasn't sure she could open her eyes yet, so she lifted a heavy hand and gathered his curls in her fist.

Spike kissed her belly as he sat up. "Ready for the final lesson, pet?"

Buffy opened one eye and groaned. "There's more?"

"Still love the wicked, forbidden vampire?"

A slow, lazy smile curved her lips."Yes, sir. As I've promised more than once, I'll never stop."

"Then there's more, baby."

"Spike…"

"What's the matter, Slayer? Can't keep up with the Big Bad?" he asked teasingly.

"I'll Big Bad you," Buffy threatened half-heartedly. "As soon as my legs start to work again."

Spike chuckled and gathered her up into his arms. He sat down in the teacher's plush swivel chair and cradled her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and spun slowly from one side to the other.

After a few minutes, Buffy realized his quiet humming was rhythmic and sounded vaguely familiar, like she might have heard it sometime on one of their roadtrips. "What are you singing?"

"Not singin', 'm humming."

Buffy slapped him halfheartedly on the thigh. "What are you humming?"

Spike ducked his head and wouldn't look her in the eye. "S' nothin'."

Buffy was sure if he could blush, his face would be bright red. "Spiiiiike, tell me, please?" she pouted.

"Oh no, not the lip, gonna get it." He pulled her lower lip between his and sucked gently.

Buffy pushed him away. "Not until you tell me what you were singing."

"Humming."

Buffy rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. "Fine! Humming."

"Iwannabeyourboyfriend," he said in a rush of words.

"I wanna… huh?" Buffy tilted her head in confusion.

"Called, 'I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend' by the Ramones." He glared menacingly at her grin. "If you laugh, I'll bite you."

"Promises, promises…"

"Oi, missy. You're one step away..."

"Are you gonna scold me?"

"No, gonna do this…" He grabbed her shoulder and shifted her in his lap so his cock was nestled between her legs. He thrust upwards with his hips.

Buffy squeaked and giggled, trying to squirm away, but Spike held her still and began kissing her neck with sweet, open-mouthed kisses before nibbling gently on her ear. The Slayer wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the mouth as one of his hands slipped between her legs, immediately finding her wet and waiting for his touch.

"Spike…"

"Yes, Miss Summers?" he asked as he lifted her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy black bra that matched the now destroyed thong.

Oh, are we playing again? Did we ever stop? This is fun. God, I love him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Finishing up with my lesson plan of the day." He grinned as his fingers continued to tease her folds.

"And what is this final lesson… uh, sir?"

"Want you on my lap, riding my cock while I kiss these pretty titties." He flicked his tongue over one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. "Seems they've been quite neglected today."

"Oh…" Buffy arched her back giving him better access, and he took full advantage.

She was bloody perfect. Her breasts swayed and bounced with every movement of the chair. Firm and soft at once, and just as tan as the rest of her. It seemed every inch of his gilded goddess had been caressed by the sun. Lucky bastard.

"So, beautiful, you are, Buffy," Spike murmured as he sucked one hard, eager nipple between his lips and worried her flesh with his blunt teeth. His hand stroked the other, lest it feel neglected, circling the darker areola with barely-there, feather touches, making her moan in pleasured impatience. "Love your tits… should'a showed 'em off to the class… let the tykes see what perfection looks like."

Buffy's already flushed skin burned even hotter beneath his ministrations and his words. Angel had never commented one way or another about her body… which was probably a blessing. That one jerk at the speed-dating thing said her boobs needed resizing… or something like that. But clearly, he was wrong because a century-old vampire was worshiping them, licking and sucking and stroking, like they were manna from heaven.

After several tantalizing minutes spent making her nipples ache with every swipe of his tongue or stroke of his fingers, Buffy was yearning for more. She wanted him to fill her up with his cock, she wanted to squeeze him and watch his eyes roll back. She wanted to see his pretty face as he came apart underneath her, screaming her name with his mouth on her tits and her hair in his fists, firing her nerve endings with torturous bliss. She twisted around until she could lift her legs and straddle his lap bringing her needy cunt flush against his throbbing cock.

"Mmmm, Buffy." Spike's tongue skimmed over a nipple and he lifted his hips to meet her own as she moved him into position.

She paused for a moment to drink in the sight of her lover. He had one arm wrapped loosely around her waist, holding her in place, as the fingers of his other hand danced over her shoulders, her collarbone, her taut stomach and over her breasts. His mouth followed, and his tongue teased an eruption of gooseflesh in its wake. His beautiful curls were a jumbled mess, long since freed from their gelled prison.

"Spike…" His name, her breath, a mere whisper. He looked up and she was struck for the thousandth time by the startlingly clear blue and the depths of emotion reflected within his eyes. His pupils were wide, dark islands in the center of the stormy sea of desire. Buffy bent to capture his perfect lips in a kiss, teasing them open and slipping her tongue inside to dance with his before impaling herself on his cock.

Together they moved in an unhurried rhythm, their hips rocking, gently swaying with the motion of the chair. Hands roamed over smooth, soft skin, over hills and valleys of unyielding muscle and divine, pliant curves. Moans and gasps of pleasure were swallowed by the kiss as they reconnected as Buffy and Spike. Friends. Allies. Lovers. Healers of hearts. Keepers of promises.

After what might've been hours, Spike broke the kiss, returning his sinful lips to Buffy's breasts as promised.

She watched as he lovingly fondled and teased each bud, burying his face between them both, raining soft kisses over her skin.

"I love you, vampire-mine," she whispered to him, her voice a low rasp after all the screaming.

He looked up at her, and the adoration in his eyes stole her breath. "I love you, Slayer-mine," he returned, his voice a gravelly croak.

Buffy smiled at him lovingly, her arms circling his neck as she rode him, rising and falling in perfect time with his thrusts. She felt warmth building slowly, the heat rolling through her like the waves of a tropical ocean. Spike shifted his hips slightly and the head of his cock began to strike her inner walls with perfect precision. Their pelvic bones aligned and Buffy twisted, rubbing her clit against him with each downward thrust of her hips. Sweat dripped into her eyes and she wiped it away with a swipe of her hand, intent on watching the flawless symphony of their bodies as they climbed ever closer to the peak. They moved as one, Spike's thick, glistening cock disappearing inside Buffy's tight pussy only to reappear again a moment later. She wanted this moment to last forever, but she could feel herself beginning to spiral faster and higher, taking her vampire along for the ride, as he quickened his ministrations, his mouth fulfilling the promise he'd made to her previously neglected tits.

Keeping her eyes wide open, Buffy watched her own body begin to quiver and shake as she came apart, her passion unfurling bit by blissful bit. The walls of her cunt began to pulsate, squeezing Spike's cock until she could feel his body shaking in release with hers. Only then did she drop her head back and fully let go, wringing every drop of cum from his cock as he babbled incoherently, his arms wrapped around her waist, his face pressed into her shoulder, her pulse thrumming rapidly against his lips.

They held each other quietly until Buffy's racing heart calmed, and Spike's cock, for once, lay quiet and undemanding between them after slipping from her burning depths.

"Here endeth the lesson," he sighed against her, his breath a feathery caress across her skin.

She grinned. "How did I do?"

"High marks all around. M' star pupil."

"Your only pupil," she corrected. Her glare, though unseen, was evident in her voice.

He chuckled, his lips tickling her neck. "Couldn't handle more than one at any rate," he admitted. "You're a helluva woman, Buffy."

She laughed softly, feeling inordinately pleased by the compliment. "You, on the other hand, failed."

He pulled back and looked at her in confusion. "Recall plenty of writhing and screaming on your part. Seems I got the job done."

"Oh, yeah, that job… but the other. Big red 'F' at the top of the page."

At his still confused expression, she clarified, cupping his cheek with one hand. "I still love my forbidden, wicked vampire. Lesson majorly not learned."

He smirked, looking just as forbidden and wicked as he was. "Mr. Westfield may have t' have another go, then, Miss Summers. All in the name o' education, of course."

Buffy gnawed at her lip adorably. "Miss Summers is all about the educational process."

Spike's sinful chuckle tingled every cell in her body. "See what we can do about that… another day. Poor bloke's knackered from all the unselfish dispensing o' knowledge."

That warm, fuzzy feeling of satisfied pride expanded from her chest to fill her entire being. "Another day sounds perfect," she agreed, leaning back in and wrapping her arms around him again. "Much with the perfect."

Rocking the chair gently, Spike cleared his throat and began to hum again, after a couple of bars, he added the lyrics in a deep, heartfelt timbre. Buffy smiled at the words and hugged him closer, pressing her ear against his chest to feel the vibrations as he sang.

Hey, little girl, I want to be your boyfriend

Sweet little girl, I want to be your boyfriend

Do you love me, babe?

What do you say?

Do you love me, babe?

What can I say?

Because I want to be your boyfriend…

-X-

Epilogue:

Spike held his duster for Buffy to slip into. Her short skirt was shredded, and her knickers were, well, even worse. She was just wrapping it around herself when Spike's head snapped towards the door of the classroom.

"What?" she whispered, her senses suddenly on alert.

"Voices… the Watcher and the Council bird… comin' this way."

Buffy's senses went from alert to panicked. Giles? Giles was coming this way? She looked down at herself, running a hand through her disheveled hair, then glanced over at Spike. They both looked like they'd been, well, doing exactly what they'd been doing. Even with his duster on… I mean, what logical reason would she have for wearing his duster? It wasn't cold. And how could they explain still being here HOURS after they'd left the meeting? Of course, Giles knew they were dating and… and sleeping together, in a theoretical sense. But he didn't know-know, as in a seeing-them-in-a-post-coliltal-haze sense. At least it was better than catching them in a fragrant disco, and having Giles scrub a hole straight through his glasses.

Buffy could hear the voices now too. Very close. Too close. All they'd have to do was glance through the large glass window in the door and…

Spike grabbed her hand and dragged her to the back of the room and another narrow door in the corner. It was locked, but that was a mere formality as he wrenched the knob to the left. A grinding of the locking mechanism and a small screech of metal filled the classroom as he yanked it open and shoved Buffy inside the closet. He followed a second later, pressing her against the shelves of classroom supplies and pulled the door closed, casting them into complete darkness.

"Spi—" she squeaked, her surprise and panic coming out automatically.

"Shhh…" he hissed in her ear, clamping a hand over her mouth as he held the door closed with the other hand.

"But I think my panties are on the…" she muttered against his hand.

"Shhh…"

They stood perfectly still, pressed together like sardines in the tiny space, and waited.

"I say, did you hear something?" Lydia's voice filtered through the closed door.

Buffy held her breath as she heard the classroom door open and footsteps enter. She was sure her thong, or what was left of it, was on the desk… like, right there at the front of the room for anyone to see.

"I didn't hear anything, and there doesn't seem to be anything amiss," Giles insisted.

Lydia huffed. "Perhaps you should consult a physician; you seem to be going quite deaf. I've been hearing things for some time… and then just now as we approached, I'm sure I heard voices in here."

Buffy closed her eyes and prayed that Spike had pocketed her undies and her knife and… oh crap, the stake! She stuffed her hands in the pockets of the duster and let out a sigh of relief as she felt the leather sheath and her knife brush her fingertips, but the only other things she found were his cigarettes and lighter. Shit!

Then she wondered if they could smell the sex in there, even if they didn't notice bit of black lace or see her stake… Where had it rolled when she'd dropped it? Under the desk? Bad Slayer… should always know where her weapons were! She knew she shouldn't care about Giles knowing. It wasn't a secret, her and Spike, but it was Giles. And there was knowing and then there was knowing. And he was old and… and Giles-y. And that was just wrong.

"Yes, well… it is the Hellmouth. There are often unexplained sounds. I pay them little mind any longer," Giles excused.

"Why is there a stake in the middle of the floor?" Lydia asked, clearly confused.

'Shit!' Buffy gritted her teeth to keep from saying it aloud. Of course it couldn't have rolled under the desk!

"How many times must I remind you that we are on the Hellmouth? I don't see anything here to be alarmed about. Shall we?" It sounded like he was physically pushing Lydia out of the room.

Buffy felt herself relax against Spike as she heard the footsteps retreating and the sound of the classroom door open and close. He removed his hand from her mouth. They stood there in the dark for another minute, waiting, but the two other Brits seemed to be gone.

"Ever shag in a broom closet, pet?" he whispered against her ear.

Buffy's skin flushed in the dark and her eyes went wide. She turned her head to look at him, but could barely see anything in the dark space. "I think this is more of a supply closet."

"Ever shag in a supply closet?" he amended, letting his free hand roam down to cup her sex.

"I thought Mr. Westfield was 'knackered' for the day."

"Yeah, but Spike's just gettin' started," he rumbled before pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her neck

"You're insatiable and demented," she laughed. "There isn't enough room in here to move."

He jerked his hips against her ass. "Is if ya do it right," he assured her, releasing the door handle and taking a very small step back. The door cracked open, letting in just a sliver of light, but no more. He tugged his duster off her shoulders and let it fall to their feet.

"Gonna shag you silly, pet… but ya gotta be quiet as a churchmouse. Not a peep, not a moan, not a gasp…" he instructed, sliding a finger between her wet, swollen labia and teasing her opening, which was beginning to throb again.

"I… uh… why?" she breathed, spreading her legs as wide as the small space would allow.

"Practice…"

"Practice? For?"

"For when I shag you in the Watcher's bathroom… with him feet away on the other side of the door."

"Oh." Buffy shivered, a thrill of daring and danger dancing through her, coating Spike's questing fingers with a flood of desire.

He smiled against her neck. "God, I love you, my naughty Slayer."

"Love you too, my evil vampire," she gasped back. "Now, fuck me."

"As you wish."

The End.

-X-

End Notes:

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!

Buffy was thinking of 'in flagrante delicto' which got mangled into 'in a fragrant disco'