She was trying to use all the hot water in California. He was sure of it. No one spent this much time washing. He shifted in the bed and grimaced as the flannel pajama bottoms rubbed against his skin.
He hoped she appreciated the indignities he suffered for her. Purchasing the damn things had been an adventure in the nancy boy world his human self would have loved. He rolled his eyes as strings of rhyming couplets flooded his mind. He growled. Poetry, there was always poetry. He had to get control of it. He would not be writing odes to the slayers golden tresses or determined gaze.
His body reacted to the mere thought of her. Fanbloodytastic, the pants were necessary after all. He plucked at the soft, blue fabric. This flannel pair would provide him a bit more cover. Wouldn't want to offend the slayer's modesty. The black silk would just be for later. He smirked.
There was going to be a later. He could see it in his slayer's eyes. He leaned back against the headboard of their bed. That was something, sharing a bed with her. He rubbed the back of his own neck. The engagement had been a revelation for him. He wanted her, no surprises there, but he wanted more than a quick tumble or even a night or two.
Desire was easy for a vamp. It came as part of the package. Craving all forms of satiation was the norm. Wanting something more than instant gratification was practically deviant.
He wanted more. He wanted it all. The long drive had only sharpened his appetite. Her mind was facile and the conversation had been a perfect mixture of word play and sincerity.
He'd known the slayer was quick witted, couldn't miss it in battle, known she was beautiful, had eyes, but she was more.
Buffy opened the bathroom door and the warm wet air invaded the bedroom. The heady vanilla scent was strong, but he could smell blood. It was a trace, but the power of it was unmistakable.
"Slayer, are you hurt? I smell blood." Spike got off the bed and found Buffy trying to get a plaster on a cut by the back of her knee. "I could lick that and stop the bleeding."
Buffy looked at him. He could see her struggling with the decision. He swallowed, unaccountably nervous. These little intimacies were important if they had a chance of making it. She had to accept him, demon and man.
"Would it be easier for you to reach it if I laid down on the bed?" She stroked his shocked face as she passed him with her own flannel pants still clutched in her hand. He followed behind her, lamb to her Mary.
The slayer flopped onto the bed and bounced with a giggle. Her white ribbed tank top riding over her hips. Her tiny white cotton briefs were more alluring against her tanned flesh than anything he had ever seen. He swallowed and looked at the tiny cut. It was nothing, but this was everything.
Spike lowered himself next to her on the bed. He reverently stroked her golden skin before flicking his tongue against the cut and sealing the wound. The single drop of her blood on his tongue was a symbol of her trust. He reveled in it, laying the side of his face against her bare thigh.
"Why don't you slide up here?" Buffy sounded giddy. He raised eyes gaze to hers, caught in the moment. Her eyes sparkled as she watched him over her shoulder. She wanted him with her. She wanted to find a way to make this work. It was there on her face, plain for him to see.
"Thank you for trusting me, Pet." He slid up next to her body, noting the warm welcome of her scent. She was blushing as she stroked his bare chest.
"I never imagined you would want that. It seems like I'm taunting you with stuff you can't have." Her gaze was locked on his chin now, her hands flat against his chest.
"I don't view you as food, Love. Not anymore. If I could bite you, it would have to be something we both wanted and enjoyed. You never have to worry about that." He stroked her damp hair back from her face.
She shifted, pressed her body against his, and kissed him, her tongue tracing his lower lip, begging entrance. The blasted poetry was pounding in his brain again as she swept into his mouth. She tasted like sunshine and salvation. Her hands kneaded on his shoulders. He grabbed her waist and pulled her over him.
He was bathed in her heat, their bodies fused. He could feel the frantic strum of her heart throughout his body. He broke away from her lips, his body sucking in unneeded air. Buffy collapsed against him. He stroked a soothing hand along her spine.
"Wasn't expecting this. Knew it would be wonderful..."
"But this is beyond that." She finished his sentence. "I was so nervous about sharing this bed with you, but, now, I don't want to leave it."
"Know what you mean, Love." He looked up into her green eyes. He stroked his fingers over the scar on her neck. "I want to bury myself in you and let the world slide away. I want you to be mine."
"This is happening so fast." Buffy kissed his the tip of his nose.
"Which is why we should slow this down. Want to know we're more than a flash of lust and blood. I want you to be sure of me." He rolled to his side. "I want to let the world slide away, but I want to be in it with you, too."
Buffy nodded. He could see her doubts resurfacing. He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his tented pants. Her fingers curled around him and he groaned.
"I want you, Pet. Don't doubt that. If this were just a bit of fun, you'd be screaming out your release right now." He smirked at her wide eyed reaction.
"Pretty sure of yourself." Buffy huffed.
"Yeah, I am." He smiled as she slid her hands, palms flat, along his chest, circling his nipples. "I have good instincts for survival."
Buffy rolled away from him, tossed her flannel pants to the floor, and climbed up to the space he had vacated when he had checked on her. She flopped back against the pillows and crooked her finger at him, a golden goddess reclined in his bed.
"Put your pants on, Buffy. I'm not going to be able to keep you warm while we sleep."
"I don't care." She stuck out that lower lip in her killer pout. He shook his head and moved next to her.
"Gonna get that pouty lip. That's mine." He bent his head, nipped at her lip with his blunt teeth, and growled. "We need to get some sleep, Woman."
"Don't you think it's a little odd that the human is pushing the vamp to sample the pleasures of the flesh?"
"Gonna do this right for you, Buffy. Won't rush it and leave you with regrets." he pulled her to him and settled into the bed. "I don't hurt the women I care about."