A Bath, Ouch and A Hickey
øøøøø
It was one of those things you really never think will happen, but if you live
on the Hellmouth anything is possible. So there was nothing strange about
Willow sitting in a hot bath bubble bath trying to soak away the smell of her
vampire lover, who was still semi naked in Giles’ bed, while her werewolf
boyfriend sat down stairs listening to music with an ex-Watcher who use to live
the "sex, drugs and rock and roll" motto and earnt the nickname
"Ripper". No, just another day on the Hellmouth.
Willow shook her head and sluiced the hot scented water over her tired and
sated body. Despite Spike's protests that she should stay in bed with him,
something she really wanted to do - its not what you guys think, she'd only
caught a few hours sleep...okay so it is, she was thinking of his tongue again
– instead, she had panicked, rolled off Spike, grabbed the leather pants and
made a quick dash to the bathroom. Luckily, she hadn't been seen or heard by
the occupants downstairs, their attention was focused solely on Giles’ record
collection.
"Willow," Spike called from the other side of the locked bathroom
door.
"Go away," Willow continued her sluicing.
"I can't."
"Just go away Spike," muttered Willow, she really didn't want a scene
with him at the moment, especially with Oz and Giles down stairs. They would
undoubtedly be curious about the reasons behind it and she didn't want to have
to explain anything to them. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them - and affectively
her - and they wouldn't get the chance to know anything if she could just get
Spike to shut up.
"My clothes are in there. I don't mind strutting round in my jeans, but
for some reason the Watcher doesn't appreciate the view..." he paused for
a moment, considering Giles unease. "Obviously got body image problems...I
probably threaten him. Either that or he fancies me."
Willow groaned at the sheer egotism of his comments. Glancing about the
bathroom, she spotted his shirt, boots and belt near the toilet. Of course
having Spike wandering around half naked certainly would raise some awkward
questions. Levering herself out of the bath, she dried her hands on a towel
before gathering up his clothes and unlocking the door, using it as a shield to
hide herself away from her tormentor, and threw his clothes out with as much
force as she could muster. So much so that the clothes and boots would have
landed with a loud bang against the far end of the hallway...if Spike hadn't
been standing directly in front of the door. As she slammed it shut, she heard
a loud thud and muffled cry of pain.
"Are you purposely trying to castrate me with my boots?" he muttered
through the now relocked door and she suppressed a giggle as she climbed back
into the bath. Served him right for pestering her while Oz and Giles were down
stairs and idly she wondered why he was making everything so difficult.
"Go away Spike."
"Yeah, I'll stroll jauntily along whistling a happy bloody tune," he
said bitterly, kneeling in front of the door and cradling his bruised
testicles. That's what he got for thinking he could barge in when she unlocked
the door. "Fuck," he hissed as he rocked, trying to will away the
pain while still holding his balls. "So you going to kiss them better
love?"
"Fuck off, Spike!"
He rested his head against the door and gave a small chortle of laughter before
wincing at the throbbing pain in his groin. "Ooh, I've got her mad,"
he sung to himself as he waited for the pain to ease so he could dress.
After an hour of soaking, Willow finally decided she couldn't take anymore and
her hands and skin reflected that fact as she dried off. Picking up the leather
pants, she shook them out and was about to put them on when a huge off-white
stain in the crotch caught her attention - it was their dried secretions from
LA.
< Great, if I put these back
on soaking in the bath for an hour will have been a waste of time. >
< Thank you Buffy! >
"Hey!" Spike grabbed her arm as she walked past. "What's this
all about?"
"What?" Willow glanced down at herself, wondering what he was on
about.
"You bloody reek of the Slayer," Spike spat.
Willow twisted her arm free and glared at him. "Better than being covered
in your stench."
"Yeah, well I can still smell our sweet coupling," cocking his head
to the side, he looked at her thoughtfully before smiling and leaning in to
whisper seductively in her ear. "It'll happen again, pet. Again and again
and again."
Spike chuckled as he walked towards Giles bedroom. Willow shook her head and
decided he was lying, although she paused for a moment at the top of the
stairs. Taking a deep calming breath, she rationalized that Spike preferred to
be solid rather than a big pile of dust and so he wouldn't say anything, he'd
just make constant innuendo to her and she could live with that. Letting out
the breath, she walked down the stairs and caught sight of Giles and Oz,
heatedly debating the merits of some band she’d never heard of.
"Hi," she said brightly, mentally crossing her fingers and holding
her breath.
"Hey," Oz walked over and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, wrapping
his arms around her. "Mmm, you smell nice."
< YES! > her knees went weak from relief. Breaking the embrace, she felt
her smile turn into a grin. "I had a bath with some of Buffy's body wash.
I hope you don't mind, Giles."
"No, not at all. I expect that after a night in the city it would be a
relief to rid yourself of all the pollutants and dirt." Giles didn't even
bother looking up as he concentrated on searching through the records before
pulling one out. "Now Oz, this is a more suitable example of what I was
telling you about."
Oz pulled away and took the record from Giles, turning the cover over to
examine it. Suddenly, his head shot up and twisted toward the stairs. Willow,
startled by the sudden movement, followed his gaze and saw Spike sauntering
towards them. She rolled her eyes in disgust as Spike grinned lewdly at her and
she turned back to Oz.
< Uh oh. >
"You bastard," Oz yelled, pulling back his furled fist and taking a
step forward.
"Oz no!" screamed Willow stepping in between the two. Unfortunately
for her that was a mistake. Oz's fist collided with her jaw, sending her
spiraling back into Spike with enough momentum to knock them to the ground. She
felt arms encircle her, protecting her from the fall, before she found herself
flat on her back with Spike gingerly running his fingers across her jaw.
"You're ok," she didn't know if he was asking her or telling her.
Before she could manage to say anything, he stood up and launched himself at
Oz, hurtling them into the wall. Giles' small living room was filled with
anguish howls of pain, Spike because of his chip and Oz because of the collision
with the wall.
"That's enough," yelled Giles, pulling a whimpering Spike off a
cowering and wretched Oz. "Both of you, stop it now!"
"I don't believe this." Oz pushed himself up off the floor, away from
the shattered plaster and now dented wall, and looked at Willow. "How
could you?"
He didn't wait for an answer before heading for the door and leaving the
apartment.
"That went well," Spike said holding his aching head and walking over
to where Willow was standing clutching her jaw. Her eyes were glazed over with
confusion and pain. "You'll need some ice for that."
"What just happened?" asked Giles in disbelief as he watched Spike
urge Willow to sit down on the couch.
"The Wolf hit Willow - or have you gone blind?" Spike spat, sitting
down next to Willow, closing his eyes for a moment against the blinding pain in
his head, silently cursing that he couldn't rip the Wolf's heart out and shove
it so far up his ass that he could cough it up for hurting Willow. As he pushed
the pain away, he turned and concentrated on Willow, his fingers once more
running across her rapidly bruising jaw and cheek. "You okay?"
Willow nodded blindly, her eyes glassy from unshed tears and her body hummed
with adrenaline from the shock of being hit. She could feel Spike's thigh
pressing against hers and his fingers softly caressing her, but she felt numb.
There were people talking, Spike and Giles, but the voices were muted,
disconnected and she couldn't comprehend what they were saying. She couldn't
understand it, she had soaked in the bath for an hour, there was no way that Oz
could have smelt Spike on her...on her.
What had Spike said upstairs? He could still smell their coupling, of
course he meant on him and Willow lowered her head, groaning at her own
stupidity.
"Willow?" Giles was calling her name softly, squatting in front of
her, ice pack in hand. Willow looked up, suddenly aware of the painful
throbbing in her jaw as he handed her the icepack. "Here, this will help.
Do you want me to drive you home?"
"Home?"
"Well, back to the dorm?" Giles asked and Willow shook her head,
blindly glancing about the lounge area.
"No, there's no point in going back there..." tears started to fall
as she felt Spike's hand drop down to the small of her back, his thumb rubbing
lightly. Furious at herself, she blinked back the tears, hastily brushing aside
the few that were tumbling down her cheeks, and tried to focus on something
other than the pain that was starting to work through her. "I've missed my
morning lectures already, I might as well stay here and start working on the
computer."
"Oh, you don't want to see what upset Oz?" Giles asked in surprise.
He didn't have the faintest idea what had happened, but he was certain that
Willow would want to talk to Oz as soon as possible. The only reply he got was
Willow shaking her head and a death stare from Spike, which caused him to take
two steps back. "Well, whatever you think best. I'll make some tea, settle
your nerves..."
Umming and erring to himself, he walked into the kitchen and set about making
the tea, all the time glancing at the couple on the couch. To say they were
intimate was an understatement. Spike was practically sitting on top of the
girl, one hand behind her back the other tipping her head back and running his fingers
across her jaw. Understandably, Willow still appeared dazed, she was nodding
and shaking her head in answer to Spike's low constant murmur.
Giles leant back against the
counter top as he continued his study. There was this morning, he had been waken
by Oz knocking on the door - concerned that Willow hadn't returned - and since
she hadn't come downstairs Giles assumed she was still sleeping, so they had
sat for a while, listening to music. By the time Giles excused himself to head
upstairs to the bathroom, Willow was in there. To say he was surprised to find
Spike in his bed was an understatement, although Spike had muttered something
about Willow kicking him out of the bathroom and the opportunity to sleep
somewhere "a sight bloody more comfortable than porcelain you git"
arising and the Watcher had put it down to the vampires usual
do-whatever-I-want attitude. But now, with the apparent intimacy between the
two, he began to wonder.
The shrieking of the kettle interrupted his thoughts and he shook off the
irrational idea. It was silly, really. Willow was far too smart to become
involved with Spike and Spike's behavior could easily be explained - he was
fond of Willow and therefore concerned about her being hurt. That was it. Easy.
Giles smiled to himself as he carried a cup of tea back to Willow, he was
concentrating so hard about the ridiculousness of there being anything between
them that he totally missed Spike snatching his hand away from her thigh.
***
Spike was hanging by the door of Giles apartment. It had been four days since
the altercation between himself, Oz and Willow, and it was tearing him apart.
Each day after classes, Willow would go directly to Giles and work on the
laptop. Spike loved that time, he would "accidentally" brush up against
her, or sit close enough so that his thigh brushed against hers, he would tease
her mercilessly both physically and psychologically, after two or three hours
of the casual caresses she would be wound so tight you could see the tension in
her body. Then the bloody Slayer would turn up and ruin everything by taking
Willow away. Spike would leave the apartment and take his frustrations out on
any demons he came across - violence was such a wonderful way to relieve the
stress. They hadn't really spoken since that day; they didn't have the chance.
Giles, much to Spike's annoyance, would never leave them alone together and
very rarely even let them out of his sight.
Spike paused in his restless pacing and circling to risk a glance at the
Watcher, who was comfortably reading some book on his couch - Spike having
vacated it soon after his soap opera's were over – and he wondered if the silly
old sod knew something. He had asked a barrage of questions after Willow had
left that day, all of them was met with some sarcastic or condescending reply -
in other words Giles had gotten absolutely nothing out of the vampire which
only further aroused his suspicions.
Spike shook his head and resumed
his pacing, there was nothing to know because nothing was going on...yet. Yet.
Spike hated that, he wanted to kill off the Wolf, grab Willow and lock her away
with him. But at the moment, he couldn't even get her alone to talk to or even
for a half decent grope.
The door opened and Spike spun, grin plastered over his face. It fell as soon
as he saw the Slayer, standing there in all her blonde glory.
"Slayer," he growled in greeting, looking past her and being
disappointed not to find Willow.
"Is Willow here?" she asked, shutting the door and walking into the
apartment.
"Well, no," Giles looked up from his book as Buffy sat down next to
him on the sofa. "Why do you ask?"
"Long story," Buffy sighed and Giles gave her one of his patented 'go
on' looks. "Oz."
"Oh for goodness sake, Buffy, what do you mean?" Giles was exasperated.
"Well," Buffy took a deep breath. "This morning Oz called in to
see Willow, but she was in the shower, which he said he didn't mind 'cause he'd
written a letter anyway - which he gives me and asks me to tell her he was
sorry."
"Sorry? What for?" Giles asked taking off his glasses and rubbing at
the bridge of his nose. He was getting a Buffy story telling headache.
"I'm getting to that part - I told you it was a long story!" Buffy
all but growled. "Anyway, Will comes back, I gave her the message and the
letter. Of course, I didn't want to leave her alone so I waited while she read
it."
< Yeah sure, really concerned for your friend, you bloody nosey little sow.
>
"She just sat there, not a word for like ten minutes and then she just
calmly announces that Oz has gone. I thought she meant he was going on a gig
with the band, but NO! He's left again. Can you believe that? Just up and left
- I thought everything was going so well." Buffy, for a moment, forgot
what the actual point to the story was and suddenly it dawned on her. "So
I was expecting tears, but Willow just kept reading the letter, well I think
she was reading it, then she scrunched it up, tossed it over her shoulder and
left. I was going to go after her then, but you know, I didn't want to push her
or anything, but she didn't show up to any of her classes and I can't find her
anywhere. I thought she might be here."
Spike grabbed his duster and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" queried Giles.
"Out," was the only answer he received before the door slammed shut.
"Maybe we should rethink his whole freedom plan?" Buffy suggested.
"What? No, no. He can't hurt anything..." Giles began, he enjoyed the
time he had when Spike left the apartment and he certainly wasn't about to take
away that privilege and have him housebound again.
"That's not the point. You don't know where he is at nights, what he's
doing. What if something happened and you needed to find him? What then?"
Buffy asked indignantly.
"You make it sound like he is a wayward child, Buffy," Giles said.
"Not a 126 year old neutered vampire."
"Well...it's just...well...he should at least tell you where he's going
and when you can expect him back," pouted Buffy and Giles shook his head,
wondering if Buffy knew how much she sounded like her mother.
***
Spike grinned to himself as he walked along the corridor of the dorm. So the
Wolf had left, Willow was once again alone and hurting. Comfort, he was beginning
to love that word. Of course before he could offer comfort, he had to find her,
first stop was her dorm room. Unfortunately, it was empty. As he was about to
leave a framed picture next to Willows bed caught his eye. It was of
Willow...with the Wolf.
Grinding his teeth together,
Spike took two strides and picked up the elaborately framed picture. It was
taken in the middle of the day, both smiling happily, arms wrapped around each
other. He concentrated on the Wolf's face, committing every detail to memory -
he was going to kill him for causing her so much pain. Well eventually. Once he
got his bite back. A slight breeze from the open window caught his attention
and he tossed the photo out the window before turning around and singing softly
as he headed towards the College Library.
Of course she was there, tucked away on the highest level sitting at the head
of a huge table which had somehow been lost behind the stacks of unused books.
It was easy for Spike to find her on that floor, she was the only one there and
her heartbeat echoed through the stacks of musty books. He weaved his way
toward that hypnotic beat, his need for her increasing with each step that he
took and when she came into view, he stopped, remaining in the shadows to watch
as she stared unseeingly at the same page of a book.
Spike had come to realize a few
things since that night in LA, he was certain that Willow was his, she belonged
to him, her pain, her happiness, her mind, and her body. He was selfish and
wanted it all and he certainly didn't want to share her with anyone.
Unfortunately, he had no choice there, she was part of the Slayer’s little
circle, but he could work around that...for now. The idea that she didn't feel
the same way was inconceivable to him, he knew she was physically attracted to
him, even before LA he use to feel her eyes on him and these past few days she
had been sneaking glances especially when he was bending over. No, she wanted
him as much as he knew he owned her. Moving slowly out of the shadows, he stalked
towards her ready to take what was his. Pulling out a chair, he sat down facing
her, spreading his legs so that one knee rested against hers while the other
was at the back of the chair in which she sat.
"Go away," Willow said, without taking her eyes from the page and he
took a moment to examine her profile. Soft pale skin framed by titian hair,
which was partially tucked unruly behind the curve of her ear, wisps brushed
along the lines of her cheek and jaw, dark lashes curled, framing her green eyes
and her eyebrows arched up finishing a picture of perfection. A piece of fringe
fell forward, partially covering the green of her eye and he gently ran his
fingers through the fine silky strands to push them off her face, letting his
thumb caress her cheek, a cheek that was delightfully warm under his cool
touch.
"Let me make it better," he said softly, resting his free hand on her
thigh.
Willow let out a snort of laughter and a bitter smiled twisted on her lips.
"There's nothing to make better," she said softly. "I'm glad
he's left, it's a relief. I don't have to pretend anymore..."
"Doesn't matter," he leant in and whispered against her ear, his hand
dropping down to lightly massage her tense shoulders. "It still
hurts."
"Yeah? Well I was sick of playing his game anyway," she muttered,
desperately trying to hold back the tears.
"I think the game has just begun, love." Spike whispered into her ear
before lightly dragging his teeth over the lobe.
"Really?" Willow gasped as his hand rubbed against her inner thigh.
"Yeah, you want to play?" his arm wrapped around her back, his
fingers teasing the side of her breast. For the space of a sharp intake of
breath, he waited for an answer, his mouth gently dragging along her jaw line.
"Yes," she sighed as he kissed the triangle of flesh beneath her chin
and dropped his mouth down, kissing his way along her throat.
For the first time she stepped in front of Oz's fist, she felt something that
she liked, that she enjoyed, that she wanted. Blindly staring at the ceiling,
she forced herself away from the thoughts that this was wrong, that LA had been
a freak occurrence. Instead, she let her physical needs take over.
Concentrating solely on the feel of Spike's mouth and hands, she allowed
herself to be consumed by the sensations.
His hands burnt a path along her body. The hand that had been deftly massaging
her thigh moved up higher, fingers still stroking the flesh of her thigh while
his thumb rubbed the fork of her jeans. Spike turned her in the chair so that
she sat between his spread legs, completely at his mercy. His face was buried
in the crook of her neck, worrying the pulse points, sucking and nipping. One
hand pulled at her back, urging her to slide forward on the chair while the
other moved to the outside of her thigh, lifting her leg up and over his. He
felt her soft strangled cry reverberate through the flesh under his lips as he
continued his assault on her throat and allowed himself a smirk as he pulled
his head away from her neck.
Taking a moment, he leant back in his chair and let his eyes drink her in. Her
chest was heaving as she panted, her eyes were glazed with passion, her neck
and face flushed. As his eyes continued their journey, he smugly noticed her
hard nipples straining against the tight deep claret material of her shirt, her
legs were spread, one already thrown across his, the other resting against his
inner thigh, both were trembling. She was ready and willing to be taken.
Grabbing her, he tugged her toward him, making a few subtle changes so she was
straddling his lap, his hands caressing her back and ass. Their lips met and
began to tease each other into a frenzy of passionate kisses.
Willow ran her hands along his chest and up under his duster, to knead the hard
muscles of his shoulders and she pushed his duster off, letting it fall to the
ground in a heap, while her fingers caressed the thin material of his black
t-shirt. One hand snaked behind him to pull him in closer as their mouths
continued their ferocious battle of need. No longer happy with the tactile
sensation of the fabric, her fingers clawed at his shirt, pulling it loose of
his jeans before delving beneath to caress his cool smooth skin. Without
realizing it, Willow pushed at the t-shirt, finally breaking the kiss to pull
it off and toss it with the abandoned duster.
"Oh my," she sighed, catching sight of his nicely defined chest. She
caught her bottom lip between her teeth as her fingers lightly traced the
patterns of his muscles and slowly, torturously, explored every millimeter of
exposed flesh. Her thumbs brushed across his pale nipples, making them harden
even more, and she concentrated her exploration to within her hand span of
those hard points, fascinated.
Spike watched as she let her hands play over his chest. She was enthralled, her
eyes never leaving her hands, which allowed him to watch the expressions play
over her face. Curiosity need and lust. Closing his eyes, he rolled his head
back and concentrated on the sensations that those soft inquisitive touches
were creating. His hands cradled her ass, squeezing it gently, slowly rocking
her against him so her crotch brushed lightly over his painfully hard cock. He
could wait. Well, he thought he could until her tongue circled one of his
nipples and her mouth closed around it, sucking the hard puckered flesh into
her warm wet mouth. His eyes shot open as his hand grasped her head while the
other pulled her hips in flush against him. Holding her to him, he glanced
wildly about the area they were in. He could take her against the stacks, throw
her to the floor or...his eyes fell on the long table she had been sitting at.
His arm shot out and shoved at the books and pieces of stuff that littered its
surface, sending them flying through the air as he stood up and shifted them
onto the smooth wooden surface.
"Perfect," he muttered, pushing them up to the center of the table.
He claimed her mouth once more, his fingers tugging at the hem of her long
sleeved t-shirt while his tongue ravaged her mouth. Breaking the kiss, he raised
himself up to his knees, pulling her with him to take off her shirt. As he
twisted to throw the shirt with the ever-growing pile of clothes he felt her
hands once more running across his chest, one dipping down to stroke his hard
cock through the heavy denim. He couldn't repress the soft moan of pleasure
that left him at the feel of her fingers running across his throbbing erection.
Determined not to just throw her
back down and shred the rest of her clothes off, he threw her shirt aside before
turning back to her. He captured her green eyes with his own as he dragged his
fingers lightly across her neck, letting them drop down to tease her breasts
with feather like touches, making her breath increase to shallow pants. Leaning
in, his mouth traced the same path his fingers had just taken, sucking against
each satin covered nipple as his fingers unsnapped the clasp at the back.
Pulling away, he bought one hand up and snatched the bra off, tossing it aside.
His tongue flicked out, teasing the taunt rosy buds, making her moan and tangle
her fingers in his hair, while her other hand clutched at his back. Holding her
to him, one hand in the small of her back, the other cradling her head, he
lowered them against the hard surface of the table.
Spike never ceased his attention
to her breasts, licking and sucking each nipple, biting the undersides and
making Willow buck against his mouth. Again one of his hands sought the soft
warmth of the crotch of her now moist jeans, his hips rocking against hers as
he fingered the denim. His erection was chaffing against his jeans, a painful
reminder of his own need and he groaned against her breast as he felt her hand
rub against his cock in imitation of his own fingers against her. Her other
hand deftly undid his belt.
"Spike," he felt her hot breath rush across his ear and neck as her
fingers nimbly popped open the snap on his jeans and forced them open. He
shuddered and thrust hard against her as hot fingers circled his aching cock.
"Enough already, you're killing me."
He lifted his head and looked at her flushed face. It was true, after four days
of constant teasing and taunting they both wanted nothing more than a good hard
fuck. Spike knew that later that night, tomorrow and all the days following, he
could take it slow and explore what was his. Right now that wasn't important,
they just needed hard animalistic sex.
"Okay," he smirked, lifting himself off her for a moment, his fingers
ripping at the fly of her jeans and pulling them down off her hips. Once he had
them to her mid thighs, he lowered himself back down, the need to be in full
contact with her body too great to ignore. Her hands were busy, pushing his
jeans out of the way so that his cock and balls were free of their tight
confines and Spike groaned as she wiggled beneath him. Muttering curses, he
lifted his leg, his knee catching her jeans and pulling them down to below her
knees. With a feral snarl, he bought his boot down and forcefully dragged the
jeans down past her ankles with enough momentum to pull her shoes off as well.
That was it - she was gloriously naked and writhing beneath him.
"Spike," she growled, digging her fingers into his ass and dragging
him down to her as she bent her legs so that her feet lay flat on the table.
Growing impatient, she reached down and guided the head of his cock as she
again dug her fingers into his ass, causing him to thrust forward as she thrust
up.
"Fuck," he uttered against her neck. He had been going to finger her
to at least one orgasm before penetration, he hadn't expected this, hadn't
expected her to be so impatient. For a moment, he felt well and truly pissed
that she had taken control. It was just for a moment, then he felt her heat,
her wetness, her tightness and that was it, he could think of nothing else but
slamming into her, making her scream and writhe beneath him.
He pulled back and thrust forward as deep as he could go in the position they
were in and she shuddered beneath him, whispering his name. Grabbing her hands
away from his body and holding them above her head, he started to thrust hard.
His gaze caught hold of her green eyes, wide and glassy with lust, and for the
first time in a long time he felt the need to watch his lover’s face as he took
her.
Spike watched as each thrust moved her body, her shoulders rocking, her head
jerking back causing her hair to fan out, flashes of color moving across the
dull dark wood of the table. Soft moans and whimpers left her parted lips, her
cheeks flushed and her eyes darkened, but at the same time they seemed to
shimmer. Her whole face reflected pure ecstasy, although ghosts of soft lines
of pain crossed her forehead every time he slammed deep and hard into her. But
it was also those thrusts that obviously gave her the most pleasure, judging from
the guttural groans she emitted. Her face was so expressive, everything was
there and was eagerly being consumed by Spike, he’d never witnessed anything as
erotic as watching Willow while he took her, claimed her. As he felt himself
consumed by his own lust, he found himself drowning in the green of her eyes,
her very being. He could feel her muscles start to contract and spasm, she was
thrusting hard against him and her fingers gripped his with a strength he
didn't know she had. Then she did the most horrendous thing imaginable to Spike
- she closed her eyes.
"Willow, look at me," he demanded, this was what he needed, what he
wanted, to see her pleasure, to know that it was him who was making her feel
this and not some fantasy she could play out behind those closed eyes.
Willow opened her eyes and whimpered, repeating his name softly over and over
again. Her head lifted off the table before slamming down and rolling back as
she came, screaming his name, her eyes fixed on his. As she shuddered beneath
him, he felt his own climax take over and everything slowed as his body
ascended and consumed hers. His hips jerked roughly as his semen spurted deep
into her. He was still lost in her green eyes when a solitary tear fell from
one, sliding down her temple and disappearing into her sweaty hair.
His whole body shook, as did Willow beneath him, but his demon screamed for
more and came to the forefront. Willow gasped and her heart, although already
racing, began to pound, her blood screaming though her body - even though she
knew he couldn't hurt or bite her the demon still scared her.
"The games going to play out for an eternity, Willow," he whispered
as he lowered his face to her neck. Willow arched and whimpered as she felt his
sharp canines drag across her delicate skin, scratching at the surface. She was
about to scream for him to stop when she felt him shudder, his whole body
convulsed. His clenched fist hit the table, shattering the silence of the area.
"Fuck!"
He couldn't do it, no matter how much he wanted to mark her he couldn't. He
kept his face buried in her neck and snaked one of his arms about her waist
while the other tangled in her sweaty hair to hold her tight against him. Mark
her, claim her, which was all he wanted to do so that no one could ever take
her away from him and he couldn't. He nibbled at her salty skin, savoring her
taste. Well, he may not be able to mark her but he could certainly give her a
hickey - which is what he proceeded to do.
Willow gasped in relief as she felt him kissing her neck. For the briefest of
moments, she had been terrified - whenever vampires mention eternity you should
worry, she knew this. But then she realized what he wanted to, do or more
importantly that he wanted her, wanted her so much that he was going to mark
her. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped her, Spike didn't just want a quick fuck,
he wanted her. She rolled her head back, exposing her neck even more to his
ravenous mouth, and tightened her arms about him.
Spike felt her relax beneath him and rolled pulling her with him so that they
were laying face-to-face side on. He pushed her hair back from her flushed face
and smiled at the huge bruise that was already marking the base of her neck. He
shifted slightly, agitated by his jeans that were slung about his thighs.
"You know pet, we really have to get completely naked in a bed," he
smirked and leant in to claim her lips in a kiss. "Soon.”
øøøøø
|
|
|