Chapter Four of Valentine Fic
While Spike wove his way through the darkened streets, Buffy’s hands were busy unbuckling his belt so that she could slide them into his pants and stroke the soft skin on his lower abdomen. She left one hand there, while the other crept up under his shirt and began to play with a hardened nipple. The vampire’s growl of response shivered through her to mingle with the vibrations from the powerful engine beneath them.
She scooted even closer to his back, pressing herself against him and letting the vibrations jiggle her into a small orgasm. When she gasped and dug her fingernails into the skin of Spike’s stomach, he swerved so abruptly that he had to stop and put one leg out to keep from crashing.
“What the bloody he--” With the wind no longer blowing in his face, he could smell Buffy; sudden realization arrived at the same time as she delved deeper into his pants with one hand, while unzipping them with the other. His cock burst out into the cool air, only to be wrapped immediately in Buffy’s warm fingers.
“Let’s go,” she murmured into his back. “I want to get back to our – your – bed.”
“It’s our bed, love, never doubt it. But if you think I can drive while you’re…ah! Buffy! Slayer. Fuck, love, you need to st…don’t stop. Just like that, pet…yes, love, squeeze me, Slayer…” With a shudder, he came in her hands, reveling in the way she continued to milk his cock until it collapsed. His hands were still gripping the handlebars where they’d been resting when he stopped, but his eyes were resting on her with wonder.
“Did you just get me off on a public street?”
Buffy glanced around quickly. “It’s Sunnydale…and it’s nighttime. There’s nobody around.” She wriggled against him and cradled his limp cock in her hands. “Let’s go now,” she ordered.
“Wind’s a bit chilly, pet. Will you zip me up?”
“I’ll keep it nice and warm,” she purred. “Don’t you worry about that. You just get us home in one piece.”
“Easier said than done,” he muttered, as her warm hands began stroking him again. Driving much more slowly than before, he did his best to steer the big bike back to his crypt without laying it down in a moment of pleasant distraction. He rolled up behind the crypt and shut the engine off, turning to blink at Buffy when she gave a disappointed moan.
“What? Thought you wanted to be here.”
“I do,” she pouted, “but I really like the way it feels when the motor’s running and I’m pressed up against you and my…uh….and everything is being jiggled…and…TMI, huh?”
He laughed and stood up far enough to turn until he was facing her on the seat. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself against him. Spike’s body began to vibrate – a mixture of purring and growling that soon had Buffy whimpering and crowding closer.
“As good as a motorcycle, pet?” he whispered between little kisses, still maintaining the constant vibration.
“Um…better,” she moaned. “The motorcycle can’t kiss like--”
Spike’s mouth cut her off as he fastened it on hers and began to pour the night’s stored up emotions into a kiss that lasted until she was squirming with the need to find release. Spike’s hands were frantically opening her pants and pushing them down, his growls becoming louder as he realized that she was going to have to move away from him if he was to gain access to his goal.
“Rip them,” she gasped, straining towards him. “Go ahead and rip them.”
With a snarl of agreement, he yanked on one leg until the seam parted and he could move it aside. Her underwear was gone before she even noticed that she was open to him. Immediately, he slid into her, their matching sighs of relief making them both smile.
“Been wantin’ to do this all night,” he said, moving against her slowly.
“Me too,” she admitted. “I think there must be something wrong with me – that I want you so much.”
“I think there’s something very right with you.” He smiled and buried his face in the silky skin of her neck. “Very, very right.”
Buffy arched her neck, leaving her throat open to his mouth. The already healed holes from his fangs teased his tongue with the knowledge of what was pounding through the vein just under them.
“You’re killin’ me here, love,” he growled, fighting to contain his demon as he increased the pace of his thrusts.
In response, she brought her head down and fastened her own mouth on the mark she’d made earlier. Her shriek of completion as she spasmed around him was muffled by the skin of his throat, which she involuntarily grasped with her teeth as she shook with her orgasm.
A guttural snarl erupted from his throat as his demon responded to the bite; and he arched into her, his true face to the fore as he spent himself in her still quivering body. Before he could recover enough to change back, he had sunk his fangs into the tempting flesh in front of him. Even as he struggled to resist, he was pulling deep draughts of Buffy’s blood into his mouth, spurred on by the renewed clenching around him as she orgasmed again.
When his cock softened within her, and her cries of release tapered off to gasping breaths, he gently removed his fangs and licked the holes.
“I love you, Slayer,” he whispered. “Love you so much…”
“I…I…love you, too,” she gasped into his neck, dropping her head in exhaustion.
They clung together, her legs still firmly around his hips and his arms holding her tightly, until the incongruity of their position began to register.
“Did we just have sex on a motorcycle?” she asked rhetorically, blushing as she realized that they were still, essentially, in public. Not that she expected anyone to come walking up behind Spike’s crypt after dark, but still…
“I’m pretty sure we did,” he grinned at her, his teeth just barely visible in the moonlight.
“And you ripped my new pants!”
“You told me to, you impatient bint. Don’t be blaming me for that!”
Buffy reluctantly allowed him to lift her off his softened cock. He held her steady until she had dismounted from the bike, then he swung his own leg over and joined her on ground. He pulled his pants onto his hips and ran the zipper up far enough to hold them in place until they could get inside. Buffy was staring at the ripped out crotch of her good slacks in dismay. A light breeze blew through the cemetery and she shivered.
“My…I’m going to be all cold,” she complained, standing with her legs slightly apart while their combined spendings oozed down her bare thighs.
“Come on inside, love,” he laughed. “I promise to warm it right up for you.”
She gave a little ‘eep’ as he scooped her up and walked around the big stone building. He kicked the door open, then turned once he was inside and allowed Buffy to kick it closed.
“Dammed good thing they made those doors sturdy,” he muttered, walking towards the entrance to his bedroom. Buffy was grateful that he was carrying her; only the faintest trace of moonlight relieved the inky atmosphere of the crypt and she couldn’t see anything but shadows. Still holding her, Spike dropped gracefully down into his bedroom, his landing so soft that she was barely aware that they were down.
“That was pretty nifty.”
His smirking, “I can do a lot of ‘nifty’ things, Slayer,” had her snorting her disbelief, and they shared a small laugh. She still couldn’t see, the darkness underground being complete and impenetrable, even to the vampire. He set her down gently.
“Stay put, love, till I get some light for us.”
In just a few seconds, he had lit enough candles for them to be able to see. Buffy’s eyes were drawn to the bed, still in disarray from their afternoon dalliance.
We made love on that bed. We MAKE love on that bed. That’s where Spike has taught me about love.
While Spike watched, head tilted and eyes curious, she walked to the bed and smoothed out the rumpled sheets, leaving one corner turned down invitingly. Feeling inexplicably shy, she sat down on the edge and pulled her legs together, suddenly conscious of the gaping hole where her underwear and pants used to be. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to pull the ripped fabric together to hide the brown curls just peeking out, and wondering what to do next.
I told him I loved him. I said it! Twice, if you count the Bronze slip-up.
Spike watched her from across the room, his hand still holding the lighter with which he’d relieved the unrelenting darkness that was his home. He felt a tightening in his chest as she continued to look around the room, her eyes darting from familiar item to familiar item, never lingering and never landing on him. Her nervousness was palpable; he was sure he could have felt it even without his vampire enhancements. He took a deep, calming breath, then walked over to kneel at her feet.
He put his hands on her knees, not failing to notice how her heart rate went up when he touched her, but knowing it wasn’t from desire this time.
“What’s wrong, Buffy?” he asked, squeezing her knees gently.
“I don’t know. I think it’s my turn to be a little bit gobsmacked,” she admitted, covering his hands with her own.
“About everything! You. Me. Us. This morning you were just a dirty little secret – the only thing that was keeping me sane. And now, we’re…we’re a couple. And everybody knows, and nobody cares and I feel like…” She turned wide eyes on him. “I feel like I’ve wasted all this time that we could have been going on dates, and cuddling on the couch and you could have stayed at my house sometimes, and…”
Once again he cut her off by giving her a kiss that took her mind off everything but the lips and tongue so gently demanding her attention. When she had begun to breathe normally, he broke off to leave small, open-mouthed kisses all over her face and neck. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin, murmuring to her the entire time.
“Wouldn’t take back a minute of the times we’ve had,” he soothed. “Gonna be all the better for bein’ a long time coming, yeah?” He ran one hand along her cheek, marveling at the way she leaned into it rather than flinching away as he was accustomed. “We’re still gonna be us. We’ll argue, and fight and then we’ll shag ourselves silly…”
“But, sometimes, we’ll make love?” she interrupted, bringing her own hand up to trace the contours of his face. “Like you always wanted me to?”
“We’ll be making love,” he agreed. “We’ll always be making love, sweetheart. Even when we’re fighting – we’ll still be lovin’ each other.”
Buffy looked at him dubiously. “Why would we fight if we love each other?”
“’cause that’s who we are, Buffy. You’re the Slayer, got the urge to fix everything by killing it; and I’m a vampire – got a demon living in me that gets off on pain and blood. Wasn’t it you what told me that – the first time? That I only liked you because you beat on me so much? You weren’t entirely wrong, love.”
“That’s why you love me? Because I hurt you?” She stiffened and pulled away from his earnest face. “That’s just…sick!”
“’s not why I love you, Slayer.” His eyes were boring into hers, determined to make her understand before she convinced herself once again that she shouldn’t be there with him. “I love you for all that you are and do – love the way you try and never give up, love that you care so much about your friends and family that you…nevermind. I love that you’re beautiful and brave, and strong and sexy and that you don’t even know the wonderful person that you are. But the vampire in me is also just a little bit in love with the fact that you aren’t afraid to hurt me – and that you can take whatever I might throw at you and give it back twice over. The poet in me is in love with a brave, beautiful woman; the demon is in love with the Slayer. I can’t separate them. And I don’t want to. It’s who we are, love.”
While he’d been speaking, Spike’s free hand had been easing its way up her leg until it reached the ripped out crotch of her formerly good pants. His fingers slid inside the fabric and began to tease her outer lips, causing her breath to hitch while she tried to think of a reply to his assessment of their relationship. He put one of her legs over his shoulder and lowered his mouth to the opening in her clothing, following the path traced by his finger and murmuring to her the entire time.
“Love this, too,” he crooned, licking their combined juices off her thighs and carefully trimmed hair. “Remember what you said this afternoon about us tasting good together, pet?”
She nodded, at a loss for words as she fell back on the bed and indulged herself in the sensations he was creating between her legs. She pushed her hips up, silently begging for more attention.
“Ah, there it is,” he said with a smirk. “Just like I said at dinner, licked off until it’s all pink and shiny for me. Whatever should I do with it now?”
Buffy waved her hand weakly. “I have a suggestion,” she gasped.
“Really?” He sat back on his heels, leaving her legs over his shoulders and her newly cleaned off private parts open to his gaze. Buffy whimpered at the loss of contact, whining his name with no hesitation and pushing her hips towards him again.
“What is that suggestion, love? Did you want me to stop?”
A garbled “no!” accompanied by another whimper brought a grin to the vampire’s face.
“What do you want, love? You’ll have to tell me, or I…”
“Your mouth! On me. Now!” Whimpering done, the Slayer’s tone brooked no argument as she sat up long enough to grab his hair and push his face where she wanted it. With a happy chuckle, he grabbed the aching nubbin in his blunt teeth and began to worry it. Buffy’s cry of pleasure/pain and the way she fell back onto the bed were reward enough as he bent to his task of keeping her right on the edge of release as long as possible.
While he was using his lips, tongue and teeth to keep her keening and trembling, he was pushing his own shoes and pants to the floor. His cock was rubbing against the edge of the bed, the rough fabric of the quilt a poor substitute for Buffy’s velvety walls; but it was enough to keep him willing to stick to his designated job until she was almost sobbing her pleas for release. He sucked the little piece of flesh into his mouth and sucked on it until, with a shriek, she clamped her legs around his head and arched her hips all the way off the bed.
While she was still trembling, he swarmed up onto the bed and plunged into her. Her legs came up around him and she responded immediately, meeting him stroke for stroke and ignoring her body’s need to recuperate. She cried out again - his name this time - as he began striking the interior bundle of nerves just behind her clit. Her chant of “Spike, Spike, Spike!” combined with the way she was squeezing him with every stroke was all it took to bring him roaring to a finish, sure that he must be hurting her by forcing himself so deep. But there was no complaint from the Slayer, only another small tremor as she joined him in release, holding him so tightly with her arms and legs that he couldn’t have eased up if he’d wanted to.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, love,” he groaned, struggling to raise his head far enough to look at her. Buffy’s face was slack, only her eyes showing that she heard him.
“You’re already dead,” she whispered, unable to summon the energy for anything louder. She loosened her arms so that he could roll off to the side, and they lay there for more minutes, waiting for their breathing to return to normal. Their legs dangled off the edge of the bed, the vampire naked from the waist down and Buffy almost as naked, her pants having suffered more damage during the course of Spike’s actions.
Finally feeling as though she could move again, Buffy sat up on one elbow and looked down at their disheveled and partially clothed bodies. She began to giggle, escalating to shoulder-shaking laughter as she stared. Spike raised his head to see what she found so amusing and had to join her, his deep chuckles adding to the mirth. Completely dressed from the waist up, the Slayer was sprawled, legs akimbo, completely exposed except for the waistband still fastened around her narrow waist and the bottoms of the pants legs still clinging to her calves.
His own new shirt was wrinkled, but intact – only seeming incongruous when the eye followed it down to the flat stomach and relaxed cock hanging over his thigh. He noted that his socks were still on and tried to push them off with his feet, soon giving it up as a bad job.
“We’re a pair, aren’t we, pet?” he said with another laugh.
“At least we made it to the bed, this time,” she offered. “Even if we didn’t quite make it out of our clothes.”
“Can take care of that,” he rumbled, reaching over and beginning to unbutton her blouse. Buffy raised her free hand and began to unbutton his shirt, starting at the bottom and working her way up until she could push it open and slide her hands over his smooth, muscular chest. When her blouse was undone and a clever vampire hand had unhooked her lacy little bra, they both had to admit that sitting up and taking their hands off each other for a minute was the only reasonable way out of their situation.
Buffy sat up first, shrugging her blouse off and tossing it away from the bed where she hoped it would be safe from further abuse. The bra followed it, leaving her in the ripped pants. She quickly unfastened them and kicked them off to fall on the floor beside the bed.
Spike was still lying half-on, half-off the big bed and watching her undress. She put her hands on her hips and demanded, “You too, buddy. Let’s go.”
He sat up and she immediately began pushing the shirt off his body, using the close proximity to lick his chest. He let the shirt join his other clothes on the floor, and leaned down to take off his socks. When he sat back up, Buffy had turned and was crawling towards to top of the bed, her bare ass waving as she moved.
His mouth watered as he watched her, then, unable to stop himself, he reached forward and grabbed one firm cheek with his teeth. He began to suck on it, not stopping until he had raised a large, red love bite.
“Did you just give me a hickey on my ass?” Disbelief, laughter and indignation fought for prominence in her voice and face.
“Yep! Right nice one, if I say so myself,” he said, grinning at her as if they’d just vanquished a whole gang of master vampires.
She peered over her shoulder, but couldn’t get at the right angle and finally gave up and sat against the headboard with a pout.
“I want to see it.”
“It’s beautiful, pet. You’ll just have to take my word for it. Not quite as beautiful as the arse its sitting on, mind you, but nice enough, if I say so myself.”
“Hummph” was the only reply as she slid down onto the pillows and under the covers. “If I wasn’t so tired and sleepy, I’d give you another one someplace really embarrassing.”
“Another time, love,” he agreed, joining her under the linens and pulling her into his arms. “Some other time.”
“’k,” she mumbled, her eyes already falling shut. “It was a good Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it?” she asked, turning to snuggle against his chest.
“The best ever, sweetheart.”