Lessons Learned - Part Two
Because LJ is being an utter whore tonight.
Author: spikeslovebite
Title: Lessons Learned
Episode: School Hard
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: suspend your belief lol
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were.
(Author's Notes, Summary, etc.) Spike has roared back into Sunnydale in search of two things; a cure for his Sire, and a Slayer he can't get off his mind. This is a continuation of my S1E2 rewrite of 'The Harvest' titled 'Twisted Harvest'. You might want to read that one first *wink*.
The Conclusion of Lessons Learned
Eyeing the slowly closing door, Spike made a split second decision. Dropping the slayer unceremoniously to her feet, he ignored her squeak of indignation as he caught her hand and dragged her along behind him. They barely made it through the narrow opening before the heavy steel door clicked shut.
“What the hell?” Buffy raged in a harsh whisper. “Warn a girl next time, will you? You made me twist my ankle. God-”
A rough palm slammed over her mouth and he shoved her back into a dark corner. He made sure his black-clad length shrouding her completely from the eyes of the departing manager before replacing his hand with his mouth. There was some muffled grumbling and a rattle of keys behind them and then he was gone.
Without breaking the lip-lock he had going with the bemused slayer, Spike opened his eyes and gave the place a quick once-over before daring to move deeper into the club. Still attacking her panting mouth with his, he walked backwards, drawing her with him until his butt hit the edge of one of the pool tables. Perfect. Dropping back onto the green felt covered surface, he pulled her along with him until her slight weight was sprawled out on top of him.
Buffy was completely oblivious to the fact that her blouse was barely clinging to her shoulders and her skirt was hiked up nearly to her waist by the eager hands kneading her ass. With a tug and a tear, her lacey thong went flying and he squeezed the firm globes hard, crushing her against him as he arched his hips into her.
She shouldn’t want this- want him- so badly. Shouldn’t come undone at the mere touch of his skin against hers. But she did. She was. She felt fear, but it wasn’t fear of who and what he was. It was fear of the unknown, the typical nervousness that any virgin would feel. She had thought it would be Angel, but she had dreamed it would be Spike. Her every instinct told her it was him. It was inevitable and she surrendered without a qualm.
The fact that he was still fully clothed while she was practically naked finally penetrated her lust fogged brain and she broke away from his demanding lips, determined to remedy the situation. She scooted back onto his thighs and grasped both hands full of black cotton, tearing it open from neck to waist. She laughed softly at his stunned expression, running her hands over hard muscle and purring her appreciation. Her heated gaze never left his as she leaned down and gave the flesh above his navel a sharp nip.
“Ah! Bloody-” Spike yelped. Gold dust sparkled in his eyes. “Vixen.”
“Complaining?” she asked playfully. She batted her eyelashes at him, her expression of feigned innocence at odds with the sultry sparkle of her eyes as she trailed her fingers over his belt buckle.
“Fuck, no,” he rasped reaching eagerly for the front clasp of her bra as she busied herself with his belt and the buttons of his fly. Twin sighs of relief flowed from them as needy flesh escaped confining cloth.
Without giving her a chance to get a glimpse of the goodies she’d unwrapped, he caught her arms and dragged her back on top of him until her bare breasts were bobbing gently in front of his face. He buried his face between them with a lusty growl before anointing each with a series of impassioned licks and nibbles that had her heart racing in her chest.
Determined to satisfy her curiosity, Buffy wormed a hand between them. Skimming over his taut belly, she eagerly wrapped her fingers around his straining erection. Her vivid dreams had lent her knowledge of him, and what she lacked in expertise, she more than made up for in enthusiasm as she explored every ridge and vein with a delicate touch.
Spike left off teasing her nipples, his head falling back onto the table with an audible thud. “Oh, fucking Christ,” he hissed with a guttural moan. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around hers, guided it in a steady pumping motion. “Just like that…so good…God, Slayer…”
An unexpected twist of his body left her flat on her back, gasping at his sudden show of strength. He buried his face in her shoulder and shuddered against the unrelenting movements of her small hand. With quick, jerky movements and an irritated snarl, his coat and the remains of his shirt were shrugged off and flung away. A small sound of distress escaped her as he pulled her hand from his cock.
“Sorry, sweets. You can play more later,” he rumbled, lifting his head to blaze a path of fiery kisses along her jaw.
A low, purring moan was his answer as she reciprocated his move, ending with a sucking bite to the point of his chin. Yanking her hands free of his, she pushed his jeans over his ass and down his legs with feverish urgency. She parted her legs, humming her pleasure as his hips settled between them and she felt him, long and hard and insistent, cradled between the dew-slicked lips of her pussy. She curled her hips up, gasping as his entire length glided over the taut nub of her clit. Again. And again. And…
Oh, God, yesssss!
Spike threw his head back, his brow furrowed and nostrils flared as he exhaled a slow, hissing breath, fighting to control the demands of his body. His hips jerked as she tilted her pelvis until the very tip of him breeched her scalding channel.
Warning bells that should have been clamoring were mute. Rational thought had long since fled the scene. She’d tasted a hint of the darker side of her nature in him and now she wanted the full of it, consequences be damned. When he took his cock in hand and steadied himself at her entrance, Buffy wrapped her quivering limbs around him and held on tight as he covered her mouth with his and thrust inside her.
Her cry of pain was muffled by his kiss and she unthinkingly sank her teeth into his bottom lip. He growled in reaction to her bite, but refused to pull away. Instead he held himself still above her, giving her a few moments to get used to the feel of his invasion. Perfect.
Spike kissed her once more, purring his approval as she licked the blood from his lip in a show of contrition, then letting out a surprised yelp when she whapped him on the shoulder and glared up at him.
“Bloody-! What the fuck was that for?” he barked irately.
Buffy glared harder. “Oww?” she enunciated the word dramatically. “Did you have to be so…rough?”
“Look, pet,” he argued. “It was your first time. S’not supposed to tickle.” His eye roll of mock-disgust was completely at odds with the gentleness of his touch as he stroked his way over her belly to tangle in her damp curls. His thumb settled over her clit with maddening strokes and he grinned as she cried out and arched upwards. “This, however, IS supposed to tickle, yeah?”
She cried out as she bent and twisted beneath him, striving to get closer to those magic fingers. Sensing that she was sufficiently distracted, he began to move within her, his slow, measured thrusts creating incredible friction and slick, hot need. There was still a faint twinge of pain, but pleasure won out. Her hands clenched desperately at his shoulders and then swept over his heaving back, her nails scoring his flesh as she bucked her hips against his with every stroke.
“Fuck…so bloody perfect,” Spike murmured his approval into the hollow of her throat as she wrapped her legs around his hips, her body clenching and releasing around his girth.
He growled and arched his back, driving deeper, his eyes shut tight with bliss as he reveled in the scorching velvet heat that surrounded him. What had been intended as a hot, wild rut was rapidly escalating into something that was almost frightening in its intensity. Couldn’t think. Didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered right now but her. This girl.
Buffy trembled, his name a choked rasp falling from her lips. Nothing in her life could have prepared her for this. For him. God, he was everywhere; his hands all around her, his lips consuming her.
He braced himself up on his forearms and stared down between them, his eyes glowing yellow and his nostrils flared. She couldn’t help but look down also, her eyes following his unerringly to where they were so intimately joined. He slid smoothly in and out of her body, his thick length smeared red with the proof of her fallen purity.
When Spike lifted his eyes to hers once more, his demon had burst fully to the fore. A hard shudder rippled through her at the change in his features. What was it about him, she wondered wildly as she brought one hand up to trail shaking fingers over his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. Why did the sight of him this way have such an affect on her?
Her inquisitive digits came to rest on his mouth and tiny electric shocks shivered up her arm and down her spine as he nipped and sucked at the pads of her fingers. A ragged moan filled her throat and she tipped her head back in supplication, baring the creamy smooth column of flesh to him.
A soft, predatory growl rumbled from his chest at her gesture of submission. He fisted one hand full of her hair and jerked her head back, his tongue tasting the flavor of her jugular before his mouth voraciously consumed hers. He lost the edge of finesse as he drove into her, the forceful push of his hips sliding her supple form across the green felt. She dug her knees into his ribs as her body clenched around him, his uninhibited thrusts just what was needed to detonate the climax that had been building within her since his first touch.
It was then, feeling her inner muscles squeezing and releasing, that he sank his fangs into her throat.
Stars burst behind her eyelids and her body quaked with the intensity of her release. Her mouth fell open in a soundless scream of ecstasy. Each shallow pull that he took brought more waves of rapture so intense that she could only sob his name in a broken voice and cling to his shoulders, tears streaking her face.
Spike was lost in Nirvana. Her sweet blood infused him with warmth and his skin prickled deliciously. Every muscle tensed in anticipation as it swept over him in a blinding rush. He howled his release against her moist flesh, driving his cock as deeply into her as he could get, his plunges weakening as he emptied himself inside her.
He collapsed against her, carefully withdrawing his fangs and closing the wounds with his tongue. He shifted to his side so he wouldn’t crush her beneath him, keeping snug inside her as he pulled her along with him. Supremely content, he lapped lazily at the fresh bite marks, smiling as she jerked and sighed with each pass of his tongue over them.
Buffy lay over him, her body soft and pliant. “It’s funny,” she mumbled tracing arcane symbols on his chest with an idle fingertip. “Just when I think I have a handle on my life, you had to come along and screw it all up.”
He chuckled at her choice of words. “Wasn’t like I planned this, pet.”
“It just happened,” she whispered, nodding in agreement. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, but I-I’m not sorry. I just wish…” Blinking rapidly, she cast her eyes to the side. “I wish things could be different when we walk out of here.”
He felt everything inside him seize up at her words. Words that implied far more than what this encounter was supposed to mean to both of them. “Slayer…” he began before his tongue tangled up and he fell mute.
She knew the minute he froze that it had been a foolish thing to say, but she couldn’t take it back. Instead, she looked up at him with eyes sheened with needy tears. “Look, just lie to me and tell me that it meant something to you, okay? That I was more than just a conquest to you. Lie to me. You’re evil. You can do that, right?” she pleaded.
Spike nodded slowly, not bothering to correct her naïve assumption that it couldn’t mean anything to him. His gaze dropped to her quivering bottom lip and suddenly he was kissing her again. Ravenous. Demanding. Even a little harsh in his desperation to get that much closer to her.
He ruthlessly pushed away all thoughts of Angel and Dru. Confrontations could wait for tomorrow. This time, these last few precious hours before dawn, was for them.
*~*~*~*
Buffy let go of the last rung of the ladder leading from the roof of the Bronze and dropped to her feet. Her movements lacked their normal feline grace and she winced slightly as she straightened. Every muscle in her body was singing from over-exertion and she wanted nothing more than to drag herself home and submerge herself in a tub of hot water.
“Buffy?”
Or not.
Her eyes slid closed and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she turned to face him.
“Angel,” was all she said. She made no move to approach him, mindful of the warnings that had been whispered urgently to her just moments ago on the rooftop. When he made as if to come closer, she held up a hand to ward him off. “Just…don’t, okay?”
His broad shoulders slumped and he cast his eyes down to the pavement in dejection. “You’re still mad at me for not telling you about Spike, aren’t you?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed look. “Well, let’s see. You withheld information from me, and in the process you endangered my watcher, my friends, countless parents and fellow students, and- last but not least- my mother, Angel. The only possibly redeeming thing that happened that night is that one of Spike’s minions almost ate Snyder. Almost. So, yeah, I’m a little pissed!”
Angel sighed, aiming for contrition and only managing to look slightly irritated. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I thought I could handle Spike on my own,” he mumbled.
“By using Xander for bait? Gee, Angel, that was real intelligent.” Buffy shook her head derisively. “You know, for someone with over two hundred years of living under their belt, you can be pretty dense, sometimes. What in the world were you thinking?” she demanded.
He gawked at her, stunned by her acerbic tongue. His Buffy had never, ever taken that tone with him before. “I told Xander I was sorry, and I tried to tell you about Spike earlier, but you disappeared on me. I’ve been out looking for you all night.”
Buffy had to wonder if another vampire- a blonde haired, blue eyed menace with a penchant for black leather- would have let her slip away from him as easily as Angel had earlier. A slight smile curved her lips. Something told her she wouldn’t have had the chance to slip away in the first place.
Angel mistook that winsome smile as an indication that her temper had sweetened towards him and eagerly stepped towards her again, intending to take her in his arms and soothe away any lingering doubts she might have about his devotion.
In the next instant he was nursing a stinging hand and Buffy had put even more space between them. Her angry scowl was back, too. Damn.
“Sorry.” She sounded anything but. “Not so much with the touchy-feelies tonight, I guess.” She shrugged one shoulder in a feminine shrug. “I tend to get that way when someone lies to me, even if it is by omission.”
“Look, I apologized. I made a mistake. Are you going to punish me forever?” Angel surreptitiously rubbed his sore hand. Damn, she could pack a wallop sometimes. “Look, let’s just go back to my apartment and I’ll tell you everything you need to know abo-”
“About Spike?” She cut him off brutally. “So not necessary, Angel.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. She could be so childish at times that he found it hard to believe that she was the Chosen One.
It means that I already found out all I need to know about William the Bloody.” And she had. In between bouts of the most inventively intense, toe-clenching, spine bending sex she could have ever imagined, he had answered any and all questions she had asked, even if the facts he related painted him in a less-than-rosy light.
“What? How?”
Buffy might have found his confusion amusing if the conversation weren’t treading on seriously dangerous ground. Promises had been made and secrets must be kept.
No matter how badly it hurt.
Angel was looking way too suspicious and a diversion was needed. Fast.
She opted for frustration, with a hefty side of sarcasm.
“From Giles, Angel, who do you think? What, you think I just walked up to Spike and asked him nicely?”
“Well, no I-”
“Good. Glad we got that cleared up. Can I please go home, now?” She injected so much whininess into her voice, she could swear she heard Angel’s spine shatter from the shrillness.
“Ow!” Angel hissed softly as he left off massaging his head and rubbed vigorously at his ear. “Uh…sure, Buffy. You do that. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow and we can talk some more.”
Heaving a sigh of relief, Buffy started to flounce off, only to be brought up short by his plaintive, “don’t I even get a kiss?”
She whipped around to face him, her eyes wide and incredulous. “Maybe when I’m not so mad at you would be a better idea.” She rolled her eyes, the picture of teenaged scorn. “You have a lot to learn about women, Angel.”
With a flash of golden hair, she was gone. Mystified by her strangely evasive behavior, Angel scowled after her until a still-smoldering cigarette butt bounced off the top of his head and coated him with a shower of stinging embers. Slapping frantically at his abused coif with his unbruised hand, he looked up in irritation to see a wickedly grinning Spike looking down at him.
“Spike,” he snarled an abbreviated greeting.
“Angelus,” Spike returned jovially. “Fancy us meeting in an alley. Again. It’s starting to give me ideas about you, mate.”
Angel ignored his jibe. “You were eavesdropping on my conversation with Buffy, weren’t you?”
“Eavesdropping? Please!” Spike scoffed. “As if anything you’d have to say interests me in the slightest. Was on my way home, is all, and didn’t fancy a run in with that little hellcat of a slayer.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you. Please. Feel free to leave at any time.”
“Oi! No need to take it out on me ‘cause your hot little honey wouldn’t come up off the delectable goods.” He bit his bottom lip and tilted his head as if contemplating the slayer’s charms. “She is a precious little thing, isn’t she? All…ripe and juicy. Wonder if you’ll have to drive this one insane before you can crawl between those dimpled knees, too.” Take that, you sanctimonious prick, Spike thought.
Angel bridled with impotent rage. “You lay so much as a fang on her and I’ll rip your head off!”
“Yeah. Real worried about that, Peaches.” With a glance at the rapidly lightening sky, he turned to go in a swirl of leather. Snapping his fingers as if just remembering something, he turned back. “Oh, and speaking of Dru, you might want to keep an eye out for her. The little minx has a gift for slipping away at the worst times, and lately you’re all she can blather about…Daddy.”
With a mocking salute, the blonde disappeared from his line of sight. Angel huffed his frustration at the bizarre turn his night had taken and began making his way back to his apartment. He was halfway there before he realized one little detail that had been niggling at him since Drusilla’s hell spawn had popped up on that roof.
The ladder that Buffy had been descending when he’d found her led up to that roof.
Author: spikeslovebite
Title: Lessons Learned
Episode: School Hard
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: suspend your belief lol
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were.
(Author's Notes, Summary, etc.) Spike has roared back into Sunnydale in search of two things; a cure for his Sire, and a Slayer he can't get off his mind. This is a continuation of my S1E2 rewrite of 'The Harvest' titled 'Twisted Harvest'. You might want to read that one first *wink*.
The Conclusion of Lessons Learned
Eyeing the slowly closing door, Spike made a split second decision. Dropping the slayer unceremoniously to her feet, he ignored her squeak of indignation as he caught her hand and dragged her along behind him. They barely made it through the narrow opening before the heavy steel door clicked shut.
“What the hell?” Buffy raged in a harsh whisper. “Warn a girl next time, will you? You made me twist my ankle. God-”
A rough palm slammed over her mouth and he shoved her back into a dark corner. He made sure his black-clad length shrouding her completely from the eyes of the departing manager before replacing his hand with his mouth. There was some muffled grumbling and a rattle of keys behind them and then he was gone.
Without breaking the lip-lock he had going with the bemused slayer, Spike opened his eyes and gave the place a quick once-over before daring to move deeper into the club. Still attacking her panting mouth with his, he walked backwards, drawing her with him until his butt hit the edge of one of the pool tables. Perfect. Dropping back onto the green felt covered surface, he pulled her along with him until her slight weight was sprawled out on top of him.
Buffy was completely oblivious to the fact that her blouse was barely clinging to her shoulders and her skirt was hiked up nearly to her waist by the eager hands kneading her ass. With a tug and a tear, her lacey thong went flying and he squeezed the firm globes hard, crushing her against him as he arched his hips into her.
She shouldn’t want this- want him- so badly. Shouldn’t come undone at the mere touch of his skin against hers. But she did. She was. She felt fear, but it wasn’t fear of who and what he was. It was fear of the unknown, the typical nervousness that any virgin would feel. She had thought it would be Angel, but she had dreamed it would be Spike. Her every instinct told her it was him. It was inevitable and she surrendered without a qualm.
The fact that he was still fully clothed while she was practically naked finally penetrated her lust fogged brain and she broke away from his demanding lips, determined to remedy the situation. She scooted back onto his thighs and grasped both hands full of black cotton, tearing it open from neck to waist. She laughed softly at his stunned expression, running her hands over hard muscle and purring her appreciation. Her heated gaze never left his as she leaned down and gave the flesh above his navel a sharp nip.
“Ah! Bloody-” Spike yelped. Gold dust sparkled in his eyes. “Vixen.”
“Complaining?” she asked playfully. She batted her eyelashes at him, her expression of feigned innocence at odds with the sultry sparkle of her eyes as she trailed her fingers over his belt buckle.
“Fuck, no,” he rasped reaching eagerly for the front clasp of her bra as she busied herself with his belt and the buttons of his fly. Twin sighs of relief flowed from them as needy flesh escaped confining cloth.
Without giving her a chance to get a glimpse of the goodies she’d unwrapped, he caught her arms and dragged her back on top of him until her bare breasts were bobbing gently in front of his face. He buried his face between them with a lusty growl before anointing each with a series of impassioned licks and nibbles that had her heart racing in her chest.
Determined to satisfy her curiosity, Buffy wormed a hand between them. Skimming over his taut belly, she eagerly wrapped her fingers around his straining erection. Her vivid dreams had lent her knowledge of him, and what she lacked in expertise, she more than made up for in enthusiasm as she explored every ridge and vein with a delicate touch.
Spike left off teasing her nipples, his head falling back onto the table with an audible thud. “Oh, fucking Christ,” he hissed with a guttural moan. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around hers, guided it in a steady pumping motion. “Just like that…so good…God, Slayer…”
An unexpected twist of his body left her flat on her back, gasping at his sudden show of strength. He buried his face in her shoulder and shuddered against the unrelenting movements of her small hand. With quick, jerky movements and an irritated snarl, his coat and the remains of his shirt were shrugged off and flung away. A small sound of distress escaped her as he pulled her hand from his cock.
“Sorry, sweets. You can play more later,” he rumbled, lifting his head to blaze a path of fiery kisses along her jaw.
A low, purring moan was his answer as she reciprocated his move, ending with a sucking bite to the point of his chin. Yanking her hands free of his, she pushed his jeans over his ass and down his legs with feverish urgency. She parted her legs, humming her pleasure as his hips settled between them and she felt him, long and hard and insistent, cradled between the dew-slicked lips of her pussy. She curled her hips up, gasping as his entire length glided over the taut nub of her clit. Again. And again. And…
Oh, God, yesssss!
Spike threw his head back, his brow furrowed and nostrils flared as he exhaled a slow, hissing breath, fighting to control the demands of his body. His hips jerked as she tilted her pelvis until the very tip of him breeched her scalding channel.
Warning bells that should have been clamoring were mute. Rational thought had long since fled the scene. She’d tasted a hint of the darker side of her nature in him and now she wanted the full of it, consequences be damned. When he took his cock in hand and steadied himself at her entrance, Buffy wrapped her quivering limbs around him and held on tight as he covered her mouth with his and thrust inside her.
Her cry of pain was muffled by his kiss and she unthinkingly sank her teeth into his bottom lip. He growled in reaction to her bite, but refused to pull away. Instead he held himself still above her, giving her a few moments to get used to the feel of his invasion. Perfect.
Spike kissed her once more, purring his approval as she licked the blood from his lip in a show of contrition, then letting out a surprised yelp when she whapped him on the shoulder and glared up at him.
“Bloody-! What the fuck was that for?” he barked irately.
Buffy glared harder. “Oww?” she enunciated the word dramatically. “Did you have to be so…rough?”
“Look, pet,” he argued. “It was your first time. S’not supposed to tickle.” His eye roll of mock-disgust was completely at odds with the gentleness of his touch as he stroked his way over her belly to tangle in her damp curls. His thumb settled over her clit with maddening strokes and he grinned as she cried out and arched upwards. “This, however, IS supposed to tickle, yeah?”
She cried out as she bent and twisted beneath him, striving to get closer to those magic fingers. Sensing that she was sufficiently distracted, he began to move within her, his slow, measured thrusts creating incredible friction and slick, hot need. There was still a faint twinge of pain, but pleasure won out. Her hands clenched desperately at his shoulders and then swept over his heaving back, her nails scoring his flesh as she bucked her hips against his with every stroke.
“Fuck…so bloody perfect,” Spike murmured his approval into the hollow of her throat as she wrapped her legs around his hips, her body clenching and releasing around his girth.
He growled and arched his back, driving deeper, his eyes shut tight with bliss as he reveled in the scorching velvet heat that surrounded him. What had been intended as a hot, wild rut was rapidly escalating into something that was almost frightening in its intensity. Couldn’t think. Didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered right now but her. This girl.
Buffy trembled, his name a choked rasp falling from her lips. Nothing in her life could have prepared her for this. For him. God, he was everywhere; his hands all around her, his lips consuming her.
He braced himself up on his forearms and stared down between them, his eyes glowing yellow and his nostrils flared. She couldn’t help but look down also, her eyes following his unerringly to where they were so intimately joined. He slid smoothly in and out of her body, his thick length smeared red with the proof of her fallen purity.
When Spike lifted his eyes to hers once more, his demon had burst fully to the fore. A hard shudder rippled through her at the change in his features. What was it about him, she wondered wildly as she brought one hand up to trail shaking fingers over his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. Why did the sight of him this way have such an affect on her?
Her inquisitive digits came to rest on his mouth and tiny electric shocks shivered up her arm and down her spine as he nipped and sucked at the pads of her fingers. A ragged moan filled her throat and she tipped her head back in supplication, baring the creamy smooth column of flesh to him.
A soft, predatory growl rumbled from his chest at her gesture of submission. He fisted one hand full of her hair and jerked her head back, his tongue tasting the flavor of her jugular before his mouth voraciously consumed hers. He lost the edge of finesse as he drove into her, the forceful push of his hips sliding her supple form across the green felt. She dug her knees into his ribs as her body clenched around him, his uninhibited thrusts just what was needed to detonate the climax that had been building within her since his first touch.
It was then, feeling her inner muscles squeezing and releasing, that he sank his fangs into her throat.
Stars burst behind her eyelids and her body quaked with the intensity of her release. Her mouth fell open in a soundless scream of ecstasy. Each shallow pull that he took brought more waves of rapture so intense that she could only sob his name in a broken voice and cling to his shoulders, tears streaking her face.
Spike was lost in Nirvana. Her sweet blood infused him with warmth and his skin prickled deliciously. Every muscle tensed in anticipation as it swept over him in a blinding rush. He howled his release against her moist flesh, driving his cock as deeply into her as he could get, his plunges weakening as he emptied himself inside her.
He collapsed against her, carefully withdrawing his fangs and closing the wounds with his tongue. He shifted to his side so he wouldn’t crush her beneath him, keeping snug inside her as he pulled her along with him. Supremely content, he lapped lazily at the fresh bite marks, smiling as she jerked and sighed with each pass of his tongue over them.
Buffy lay over him, her body soft and pliant. “It’s funny,” she mumbled tracing arcane symbols on his chest with an idle fingertip. “Just when I think I have a handle on my life, you had to come along and screw it all up.”
He chuckled at her choice of words. “Wasn’t like I planned this, pet.”
“It just happened,” she whispered, nodding in agreement. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, but I-I’m not sorry. I just wish…” Blinking rapidly, she cast her eyes to the side. “I wish things could be different when we walk out of here.”
He felt everything inside him seize up at her words. Words that implied far more than what this encounter was supposed to mean to both of them. “Slayer…” he began before his tongue tangled up and he fell mute.
She knew the minute he froze that it had been a foolish thing to say, but she couldn’t take it back. Instead, she looked up at him with eyes sheened with needy tears. “Look, just lie to me and tell me that it meant something to you, okay? That I was more than just a conquest to you. Lie to me. You’re evil. You can do that, right?” she pleaded.
Spike nodded slowly, not bothering to correct her naïve assumption that it couldn’t mean anything to him. His gaze dropped to her quivering bottom lip and suddenly he was kissing her again. Ravenous. Demanding. Even a little harsh in his desperation to get that much closer to her.
He ruthlessly pushed away all thoughts of Angel and Dru. Confrontations could wait for tomorrow. This time, these last few precious hours before dawn, was for them.
*~*~*~*
Buffy let go of the last rung of the ladder leading from the roof of the Bronze and dropped to her feet. Her movements lacked their normal feline grace and she winced slightly as she straightened. Every muscle in her body was singing from over-exertion and she wanted nothing more than to drag herself home and submerge herself in a tub of hot water.
“Buffy?”
Or not.
Her eyes slid closed and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she turned to face him.
“Angel,” was all she said. She made no move to approach him, mindful of the warnings that had been whispered urgently to her just moments ago on the rooftop. When he made as if to come closer, she held up a hand to ward him off. “Just…don’t, okay?”
His broad shoulders slumped and he cast his eyes down to the pavement in dejection. “You’re still mad at me for not telling you about Spike, aren’t you?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed look. “Well, let’s see. You withheld information from me, and in the process you endangered my watcher, my friends, countless parents and fellow students, and- last but not least- my mother, Angel. The only possibly redeeming thing that happened that night is that one of Spike’s minions almost ate Snyder. Almost. So, yeah, I’m a little pissed!”
Angel sighed, aiming for contrition and only managing to look slightly irritated. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I thought I could handle Spike on my own,” he mumbled.
“By using Xander for bait? Gee, Angel, that was real intelligent.” Buffy shook her head derisively. “You know, for someone with over two hundred years of living under their belt, you can be pretty dense, sometimes. What in the world were you thinking?” she demanded.
He gawked at her, stunned by her acerbic tongue. His Buffy had never, ever taken that tone with him before. “I told Xander I was sorry, and I tried to tell you about Spike earlier, but you disappeared on me. I’ve been out looking for you all night.”
Buffy had to wonder if another vampire- a blonde haired, blue eyed menace with a penchant for black leather- would have let her slip away from him as easily as Angel had earlier. A slight smile curved her lips. Something told her she wouldn’t have had the chance to slip away in the first place.
Angel mistook that winsome smile as an indication that her temper had sweetened towards him and eagerly stepped towards her again, intending to take her in his arms and soothe away any lingering doubts she might have about his devotion.
In the next instant he was nursing a stinging hand and Buffy had put even more space between them. Her angry scowl was back, too. Damn.
“Sorry.” She sounded anything but. “Not so much with the touchy-feelies tonight, I guess.” She shrugged one shoulder in a feminine shrug. “I tend to get that way when someone lies to me, even if it is by omission.”
“Look, I apologized. I made a mistake. Are you going to punish me forever?” Angel surreptitiously rubbed his sore hand. Damn, she could pack a wallop sometimes. “Look, let’s just go back to my apartment and I’ll tell you everything you need to know abo-”
“About Spike?” She cut him off brutally. “So not necessary, Angel.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. She could be so childish at times that he found it hard to believe that she was the Chosen One.
It means that I already found out all I need to know about William the Bloody.” And she had. In between bouts of the most inventively intense, toe-clenching, spine bending sex she could have ever imagined, he had answered any and all questions she had asked, even if the facts he related painted him in a less-than-rosy light.
“What? How?”
Buffy might have found his confusion amusing if the conversation weren’t treading on seriously dangerous ground. Promises had been made and secrets must be kept.
No matter how badly it hurt.
Angel was looking way too suspicious and a diversion was needed. Fast.
She opted for frustration, with a hefty side of sarcasm.
“From Giles, Angel, who do you think? What, you think I just walked up to Spike and asked him nicely?”
“Well, no I-”
“Good. Glad we got that cleared up. Can I please go home, now?” She injected so much whininess into her voice, she could swear she heard Angel’s spine shatter from the shrillness.
“Ow!” Angel hissed softly as he left off massaging his head and rubbed vigorously at his ear. “Uh…sure, Buffy. You do that. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow and we can talk some more.”
Heaving a sigh of relief, Buffy started to flounce off, only to be brought up short by his plaintive, “don’t I even get a kiss?”
She whipped around to face him, her eyes wide and incredulous. “Maybe when I’m not so mad at you would be a better idea.” She rolled her eyes, the picture of teenaged scorn. “You have a lot to learn about women, Angel.”
With a flash of golden hair, she was gone. Mystified by her strangely evasive behavior, Angel scowled after her until a still-smoldering cigarette butt bounced off the top of his head and coated him with a shower of stinging embers. Slapping frantically at his abused coif with his unbruised hand, he looked up in irritation to see a wickedly grinning Spike looking down at him.
“Spike,” he snarled an abbreviated greeting.
“Angelus,” Spike returned jovially. “Fancy us meeting in an alley. Again. It’s starting to give me ideas about you, mate.”
Angel ignored his jibe. “You were eavesdropping on my conversation with Buffy, weren’t you?”
“Eavesdropping? Please!” Spike scoffed. “As if anything you’d have to say interests me in the slightest. Was on my way home, is all, and didn’t fancy a run in with that little hellcat of a slayer.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you. Please. Feel free to leave at any time.”
“Oi! No need to take it out on me ‘cause your hot little honey wouldn’t come up off the delectable goods.” He bit his bottom lip and tilted his head as if contemplating the slayer’s charms. “She is a precious little thing, isn’t she? All…ripe and juicy. Wonder if you’ll have to drive this one insane before you can crawl between those dimpled knees, too.” Take that, you sanctimonious prick, Spike thought.
Angel bridled with impotent rage. “You lay so much as a fang on her and I’ll rip your head off!”
“Yeah. Real worried about that, Peaches.” With a glance at the rapidly lightening sky, he turned to go in a swirl of leather. Snapping his fingers as if just remembering something, he turned back. “Oh, and speaking of Dru, you might want to keep an eye out for her. The little minx has a gift for slipping away at the worst times, and lately you’re all she can blather about…Daddy.”
With a mocking salute, the blonde disappeared from his line of sight. Angel huffed his frustration at the bizarre turn his night had taken and began making his way back to his apartment. He was halfway there before he realized one little detail that had been niggling at him since Drusilla’s hell spawn had popped up on that roof.
The ladder that Buffy had been descending when he’d found her led up to that roof.