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The Question Game	By : KimberlyA Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 4019 -:- 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.

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The Question Game: Round Two

Spike'd had a hell of a day, unable to sleep without dreaming offy,ffy, of her wide eyes watching him, her small hands touching him, her warm lips caressing him ... and when he was awake it was even worse. His erection was beginning to seem a permanent condition, accompanied by his anxiety about how Buffy would react to the events of the previous night.
Spike entered his crypt cautiously, sensing a presence already within the shadowy confines. Closing the door quietly behind him, he removed the knife from his boot and s fur further into the occupied crypt. Then he saw her. Buffy. She was asleep curled up in his chair, her mouth slightly open, her breathing slow and even.
Heaving a sigh, Spike tossed the knife onto a shelf, waking Buffy with the clatter. She sat up straight, rubbing her eyes and smoothing her hair.
"Din't anyone ever tell you s'not smart to sleep in a graveyard, Slayer?"
"I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just ... I was waiting for you ... and ..." Sudden indignation. "Where have you been?"
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Since when've I answered to you, pet?"
Buffy stood, awkwardly smoothing her blouse and short skirt. "Fine. Never mind. I'll ... uh ... see you later." She walked toward the door, but Spike stood in her path.
"Hey," he said softly, bending down slightly to try to look into her eyes. "Didn't mean to scare ya off. Truth be told, m'happy for the company, luv."
Buffy peered uncertainly up at him in the darkness, and something in his manner seemed to comfort her. "Okay." She relaxed slightly, then bit her lip nervously. "So."
Spike nodded slowly. "So."
Buffy glanced around the crypt as if afraid to meet his eyes.
"Want me to light some candles, pet?"
Buffy shook her head. "I like the dark. It feels ... safe ... somehow. I can't explain it. Everything just seems so bright and harsh these days."
The both stood awkwardly, not sure what to do with their hands.
Clearing her throat quietly, Buffy asked, "So, is it my turn?"
Spike tilted his head in confusion. "Your turn for what?"
"Well ... you asked if I wanted you to light some candles ... so it's my turn to ask a question."
Spike raised his eyebrows. She wanted to play the question game again, even after what happened last night? He gestured toward the chair, "Make yourself comfortable, pet."
Buffy hesitated a moment, and Spike tilted his head again questioningly. "Um ... could we ... sit ... together, again?" She explained quickly, "It's just been a rough couple days and ..."
Spike interrupted her, "Sure thing, luv. Whatever you want." He sat in the chair and opened his arms to her again, pleased when she crawled into his lap and curled against his chest, one small, warm hand curved around the side of his bare neck. He closed his eyes a moment, overwhelmed by being this close to her again, by her scent, her warmth, her heartbeat.
It was inevitable. No way to hide it, with her sitting right there on his lap. She squirmed slightly against his burgeoning erection, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Did she do that on purpose? God!
"So ... uh ... don't be offended ... but ... where were you?"
Spike chuckled. "That's your question?" Buffy nodded. "Was playin' pool at the Bronze, pet. Nothing so exciting. Was goin' crazy hangin' around the crypt today." His voice was quieter when he began, "Now my question ..." Should he really ask this? What if it just made everything worse? "Pet ... how do you feel ... about what happened ... last night?"
Buffy hid her face against the soft cloth of his t-shirt and murmured, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. When you were holding me ... like this ... I just felt ... safe ... relaxed ... happier than I have since I've been back. And, then, later ... well ... I don't know what it means, Spike, but I've thought about it a lot."
Spike was stunned. He'd braced himself for disgust, or at least regret, but ... this! What to say now? He croaked, "Your question."
Buffy was quiet for a moment before asking softly, "What do you think of me, Spike?"
"What do I think of you, pet? That one's easy. I think you're strong, and independent, and smart, and sexy as hell, and beautiful, and a good friend, and a good big sis, and anybody who knows you's the better for it. Except the ones who get dusted."
She chuckled against his chest and whispered, "Thank you."
"My question again, luv. What's your idea of the perfect date?"
"Hmmm ... the perfect date ..." She seemed to be mulling it over. "I guess I'd say ... maybe a walk under the stars ... maybe near the ocean ... holding hands and talking ... maybe a picnic ... maybe slow dancing on the sand ..." She laughed a little, sounding embarrassed. "Sounds cheesy, I know."
"Doesn't sound cheesy at all, Buffy luv. Sounds very ... romantic."
"My question," she piped up, as if wanting to change the subject. She shifted position on his lap and Spike nearly groaned out loud. He hoped she thought he had a really big lighter in his pocket or something. "I've been wondering ..." she hesitated a moment and then asked, "Do you still want to bite me?"
Oh god! Lighters, even really big ones, don't move like that. There's no way she was confused now about what was poking her lovely butt from inside his jeans. And it was getting bloody painful, to tell the truth.
"Think this is another one of those ones you don't want the answer to, pet."
"I told you last time, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to hear the answer." She squirmed again, and he was growing increasingly certain she was doing it on purpose. Her heart was beating faster, too. It was all going to go to hell if she heard his honest answer. Maybe he could distract her.
Placing one hand on her chin, Spike angled her face so that he could brush his lips against hers. Buffy gasped softly, clearly taken off guard, but then she leaned toward him, and their lips met again. Soft ... soft ... so warm and soft and tender and Spike's hands trailed down to her hips and held them in place as he ground himself slowly against her butt. She moaned into his mouth, then -- hell! -- she pulled gently away.
Looking into his eyes in the dim lighting of the crypt, she asked insistently, "Do you still want to bite me, Spike?"
His head fell back and he groaned. "Yes, pet. Yes, I want to bite you. I'm a bloody vampire!" She had stiffened in his lap, pulling away slightly, so he continued quickly. "S'not about killin' you, pet, or turnin' you ... s'about ... closeness ... being in you ... having you in me ... s'about pleasure ... for both of us ... s'about sharing ... an' ... well ... sex." He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for her to get up and leave.
Her voice was whisper soft. "I think about it, too, Spike. I dreamt about it last night ... and ... I ..."
Spike waited, but she didn't finish her sentence. His cock was so hard now that he was probably giving her bruises, but it was painfully wonderful. Two days ago, if someone had told him that Buffy'd be sitting on his hard cock and telling him she dreamt about him biting her, he would've laughed in their face.
When he realized she wasn't going to finish what she'd been saying, Spike ventured, "When you dreamt about me, Buffy, did you ... did you ... cum?"
Not looking at him, Buffy nodded against his chest, clearly embarrassed.
"God!" Spike gasped, unable to control himself from thrusting up against her again, craving the friction of her body against his cock. He was panting now, trying to keep himself in check. She was driving him insane tonight. He'd be lucky if he didn't embarrass himself ... the situation was growing increasingly precarious.
Buffy was breathing faster, too, her hips moving in small circles she probably wasn't even aware of. "Maybe," she gasped, "maybe we need to ... take a break ..."
Spike nodded jerkily, then remembered the package he'd stashed earlier in the evening. "Got you a present, pet. S'in the fridge."
Buffy clumsily climbed off of him, her limbs seeming a bit shaky as she walked over to the tiny refrigerator. Spike stretched a bit, glanced over toward Buffy, then quickly readjusted his hard-on inside his jeans. Ah, much less painful. Then he heard Buffy laugh, and looked over at her. In the light from the fridge, he saw her holding up the spray can of whipped cream and grinning in delight. She shook it vigorously as she closed the fridge and walked back toward the chair.
Still grinning, she said, "You know, I used to eat this stuff all by itself when I was a kid. Just squirt it on my finger and lick it off." She demonstrated by squirting a line of white cream in a line on her infingfinger. Before she could lick it off, however, Spike gently nabbed her wrist and lifted her finger to his own mouth. His tongue curled languorously against her skin, sucking the whipped cream off of her finger until it was clean. Her finger was slightly salty, and the taste of it mixed with the cool cream into a sort of ambrosia. He moaned softly around her finger, sucking a bit longer than necessary. By the time he was finished, she was breathing as if she'd just run a marathon, staring at him as if hypnotized by desire.
"Your turn," she murmured shyly, and took his hand in hers. She sprayed a bit of whipped cream on his palm, and then proceeded to clean him with tiny, delicate licks and sucks that had him writhing and groan Her Her tongue was warm and wet and slow against his sensitive skin, and he felt it all over his body. His nipples tightened into almost painful points, his throat clenched, and his cock throbbed insistently. In his imagination, that cool cream was sprayed in a trail down to his dick, and her head was trailing down down down, her little tongue licking and sucking and ...
"God, Buffy!" he gasped.
She licked her lips and set the whipped cream can aside. "My turn to ask a question, Spike." She was watching him as if she wanted to devour him. And he certainly was in no position to put up a fight. He doubted he could move if the entire Scooby gang broke through the door at that moment, threatening to stake him. Buffy licked her lips again, her eyes roaming over his body, which tensed even more at her attention.
She crawled up into his lap again, but this time straddled him, one knee on either side of his hips. He was shocked that she would be so bold, but would die before he'd complain. "Spike ... my question is ... how ..." Her eyes flickered to his mouth, and she whispered, "How do you like to be kissed?"
With an aching groan, Spike placed one hand on each side of Buffy's head, cradling her face gently, and pulled her toward him, pressing his lips to hers.

~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had expected an aggressive attack, but Spike teased, persuaded, nibbled, licked, until she couldn't take it anymore and opened her mouth with a sigh, licking his lips until they opened and allowed her to delve inside.
Even then, he stayed gentle, stroking her tongue softly with his own, gently biting her bottom lip, and then trailing his lips over to her ear, where he licked and nibbled and sucked until she thought she couldn't stand it anymore. She was grinding herself insistently, up and down against his erection, her skirt up around her waist. She was sure he could feel her wet heat through the thin layer of her panties and his jeans, but she was beyond caring. The scent of her arousal was filling the room along with her panting sighs. She'd never been so turned on by just kissing!
She stroked herself against him, hitting her clit deliciously with each thrust, moving faster and faster, harder and harder. His cock seemed to move within his jeans, jerking and throbbing, or maybe that was just her own sopping wetness, because she knew she was throbbing, too. She couldn't control herself ... the wet silk of her panties felt so sexy rubbing against the rough denim of his jeans. She could feel both textures at once, against her entire vulva. She wanted to feel his cock against her, bare skin on bare skin, but this was simply too amazing to stop. Later ...
S
She writhed and panted and moaned, loving the feel of his hardness, the quivering muscles of his abdomen and biceps and hands, and she was quivering too, climbing unbelievably toward a release when he hadn't even touched her intimately. Her head fell backward and he immediately took advantage by kissing and licking and sucking her throat. She jerked when he bit her lightly -- the sensation was so intense, she could feel it like an electrical shock all the way down to her toes -- and she ground herself against him even faster, harder, though she would not have thought that possible.
Wanting, needing to feel his skin, she pushed both hands beneath his t-shirt, her hips never ceasing their frantic movement. She scraped her nails desperately against his chest, against his erect nipples, and he bucked beneath her with the sexiest groan she'd ever heard in her life.

~~~~~~~~~

Spike was sure he'd embarrass himself any moment. He'd never cum in his jeans before, and he didn't plan to start now. But Buffy was making it damned hard. Heh. It was hard, all right. But he focused on her pleasure ... she was making the sexiest little mewling noises. He was pretty sure she was close to orgasm, and he was determined to push her over the edge.
"Yes, pet ..." he crooned in her ear between licks and nibbles. He blew lightly, and she shivered, grinding herself harder against his erection. "So beautiful ... so sexy ... want to see you cum, sweetheart ... want to make you cum so hard ... you're driving me crazy ... making me so hard ... want to be inside you, pet ... want to thrust into you ... so wet and hot and sweet ..." He was panting now, victim to his own arousing words, but she was going wild in his arms.
She ged hed his head in both hands and kissed him forcefully, thrusting her tongue into his mouth in a desperate invasion. He returned the kiss in kind, plunging into her moist warmth again and again as he held her hips, encouraging her rotations against him, bucking his hips up against her in helpless need, until finally she threw her head back and keened loudly, shuddering and shaking and trembling in his arms as she came.
After a moment, all tension left her body, and she collapsed against him, still quivering, her heart still racing. "Oh god," she murmured, almost incoherently. "Oh god, Spike." She huddled bonelessly in his arms as he leaned over to grab a blanket off the floor and pull it over her in his lap, then held her tightly, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head.
Suppose she'll get up and run out again now, Spike thought. And I can have myself a nice long wank. Well ... actually ... probably won't take long. Not after hearing her scream like that. He smiled a small, satisfied smile. He ran a hand gently over her back, quieting her as her trembling began to lessen.
After a few moments, she pulled away slightly, and Spike schooled his features to appear unaffected by her rejection after such an intimacy. "S'pose you'll need to be gettin' back, pet," he smiled gently.
Buffy smirked at him. What's that about?
"Oh, no, mister. I'm not done with you yet." And with those words, she reached down one hand to grasp his hard cock through his jeans. Spike's mouth dropped open and he just stared at Buffy for a moment.
Then he threw back his head and laughed.
_________________________________________
What will happen next time? Will Spike cum? Will Buffy cum again? Will clothes actually be removed? Will the whipped cream be put to more use? And if they eventually take that romantic walk on the beach, will they get sand in unmentionable, uncomfortable places? Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of ... The Question Game!

By the way, if you enjoyed this fic, please review. It saves my husband the grief of my whining to him that nobody likes my stories. He'll be ever so grateful ... believe me!
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The Question Game