Cravings | By : oldbooks Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 2138 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Buffy happened to look out the window of the Doublemeat Palace just as Spike walked past. Her heart fluttered and then beat like a gong in her chest at the sight of him. She raced out the door after him.
"Spike, wait up." Buffy grabbed Spike by the arm. He turned and looked down at her. The way his eyes caressed her face made her stomach flutter.
"What now, Buffy?" Spike sounded annoyed, but the look he gave her seemed more like he wanted to devour her.
Buffy laced her fingers with his and lead him to her boss's office. The room was dark as was the hall leading to it. She opened the door, led him inside, then shut and locked the door.
As if on cue, the second the bolt of the lock hit home and Spike became predatory as he stepped toward her, Buffy stepped back. Then there was the barrier of the wall at her back that trapped her. Spike braced both of his hands on the wall on either side of her. The movement caused his jacket to fall open.
Buffy's breath caught in her chest. She could stare at his body forever and never tire of the sight. Cool to the touch, hard of muscle defined in his arms, chest, abs and back. Strong jaw line. Perfect cheek bones set high and going forever. Strong hands with long fingers that knew how to touch her and make her crave for more. Narrow hips that fit perfectly between her thighs. Hell even the way his clothes fit him, the way his duster hung on his frame was sexy.
Spike stood silently, looking down at her, smelling her building arousal as she absorbed the sight of him. He knew he was in her blood. Warned her that it would happen. But she wasn't the only one that got to take stock of their partner. Her beautiful, shampoo commercial hair. Her soft, warm skin that burned at his touch. The shape of her breasts. How they filled his hands. Her stomach that fluttered at his touch. Her thighs that wrapped around him and trap him inside her. Her inner and outer strength.
Buffy finally raised her beautiful green eyes up to meet his blue gaze. Spike trailed his fingertips over her face, caressing her cheek. He raised her face up to kiss her. Not a mad rush kiss. An achingly, tender, passionate kiss that he knew would draw out her arousal even more.
Boy, did it work. Buffy gripped the lapels of his duster to pull him against her, opening her mouth to his tongue and deepening the kiss. He opened her work pants and pushed them past her hips, letting them slide down her legs to pool at her feet. He grabbed her panties, ripped them at the hip and pocketed them in his coat. At the same time Buffy unbuttoned her shirt, slowly exposing the swell of her breasts to his sight, and took it off.
Spike stood back to just take in the sight of her gloriously naked in front of him. Buffy wanted his cool body against hers though. She reached out to him to slide his jacket off his shoulders, caressing her fingers down his torso to pull his shirt up. She nearly salivated at the play of muscles under the taut skin when he took the shirt off. Then she went to work on divesting him of his jeans as he kicked his boots off.
Spike pinned her against the wall, kissing her possessively. He groaned into the kiss when she pressed against him, smashing her breasts against his chest. His cock came to attention, rising between her thighs. She rocked her hips into him, riding her clit along the shaft. His tongue claimed her mouth as her heat radiated over his shaft as she teasingly rocked against him.
Buffy slid down the wall to her knees in front of him, her nails gliding over the flesh of his chest and abs, and digging into his hips. He closed his eyes just as her hot little mouth engulfed his shaft. Her small hands wrapped around the base of his cock and massaged his balls gently. The heat of her mouth was intensified by the stroking she did on the base of his shaft. Then came her tongue, licking over the length. His eyes rolled back and he slowly started pumping his cock into her mouth, just to feel the rub of her soft, hot tongue against his shaft.
He sucked in an unneeded breath. "God, Buffy . . . I don't know how long I will last with this. Bloody hell, pet."
Spike eased out of her mouth and helped her stand. He pressed her up against the wall. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and her thighs around his waist. Spike kissed her hard as he plunged deep inside her. He thrust slowly up inside her, being driven on by her throaty whimpers.
Spike needed to be deeper. Buffy tried to grind down and make it so. Finally, Spike held her as they slide down to the floor, cushioned by his duster. He braced himself on his forearms and started a steady rhythm. Slow, deep strokes that Buffy matched with her grinding hips.
Spike buried his face in Buffy's neck, licking then sucking over the pulse in her throat. His thrusting deliberately slowed for the feel of her muscles contracting around his driving shaft as she rode his cock with her bucking hips.
Spike reached down and dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips, feeling her arch her back and press into him. He could take no more. His thrusts became urgent, demanding. The thrust of his cock and grind of his hips made Buffy cry out for more.
"Please, Spike. Harder. Deeper. Oh, Spike . . . YES!" Buffy begged as she strained against him to get him deeper.
Spike vamped just as he crested an orgasm, Buffy leading the way. She threw her head back, exposing her throat to him. Spike's thrusts became more demanding, pounding deep inside her. His fangs grazed her throat, licking her flesh before slowly sinking his teeth in. He growled near her ear as her blood washed over his tongue. Buffy dug her nails into his back, raising her hips to accept all of him. He growled into her throat as she cried his name in an orgasm that shook through both of them.
Spike rolled them over enough to pull his duster around them. Buffy snuggled against him. Both were trying to catch their breath. Spike caressed her damp skin, kissed her hair, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. He licked the wound, the vampire properties healing the flesh and scarring. It seemed Spike was the only one that made her come alive. His touch freed her, heated her blood until she throbbed for more. And now, the mere thought of him these days made her panties wet. She gave up thought, though dimly it occurred to her that they should leave before getting caught. Later, much later . . .
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