And now the final chapter. I’ve really enjoyed participating and look forward to the next round. Thanks for reading.
ALWAYS MY MUSE
The Lircha demon woke up in the booth with a groan and the loud crash when he tumbled to the floor had the two warriors standing side by side with fists raised, ready to defend against attack.
Unconsciously, the two blondes stood shoulder to shoulder, leaning together until they relaxed when the demon ambled off, slurring and banging into walls on his way out. Buffy giggled.
“Oh, it’s just – here we are again, the two of us, fighting…or ready to fight. It’s odd. We’re fighting together, not together, you know?”
Spike couldn’t help but smile. Buffy was making the kind of sense that didn’t, as usual, but he understood her nonetheless. It was odd, she was right. Vampire and vampire slayer standing side by side against an enemy instead of facing each other and trying to rip out the other’s throat. And yet, if he had to pick one single moment when everything felt right with his world it was when he was at Buffy’s side readying himself for the fight. All that he had to do now was convince her of that fact, a feat that seemed a lot more achievable given the past couple of hours.
“Yeah, love. Seems like we’re doin’ this a lot lately. Not that I’m complainin’.”
Buffy turned to face him, mere inches away from him, her breath scalding his face. She blinked, making a decision that took a split second and all her life at the same time. “Neither am I,” she breathed, closing the distance between them and gently pressing her lips against his.
Spike was frozen, his arms limp at his side. His lips were burning from the contact with Buffy’s heated flesh, his brain shut down with shock. It took a nano-second before he responded, but it felt like forever. He grabbed her to him, hard against his body, his hips tilting so that there wasn’t a millimetre between them, his tongue darting out to moisten her lips and part them so that he could finally taste her. Buffy moaned and relaxed against him, her fingers clawing at his back, gripping him so hard he would have marks all over him in the morning. He loved it. Marked by the slayer – what could be better?
Buffy rocked against his hips and he discovered that there were some things better…
Eventually, she backed away and drew in a shuddering breath. Spike steeled himself for her coming back to her senses and kicking him in the balls, but she surprised him. Instead of turning and running she smiled and moved back towards him, her fierce eyes fixed on his and her tiny hands resting on his shoulders, one hand moving quickly to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He was dumbstruck, his mouth open in an ‘o’ of surprise. It took a lot to make him speechless, but Buffy Summers was managing it, and in spades, tonight.
“Spike…” she breathed, her eyes glistening, her throat and chest flushed. “I know this shouldn’t be right, but I don’t care. It feels right. Kiss me.”
He obliged, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close, his cool fingers soaking up the heat from her skin as he caressed her back restlessly. His lips met hers and already it felt familiar to him, Buffy moving in his embrace to slide a leg between his so that their bodies were entwined. He backed her up so that she was resting against the bar, kissing her softly at first but becoming bolder as she moaned, meeting every sweep of her tongue with his own. He felt the tug of his t-shirt being dragged from his jeans and shuddered as Buffy slid her fingers beneath the black cloth to tickle across his abdomen, his muscles clenching involuntarily as she moved her hand to span the small of his back, her little finger tantalisingly resting in the hollow of his gapping waistband. Spike couldn’t stop himself grinding his groin against her, beyond caring that his hardened cock would make his desire for her obvious.
Buffy didn’t seem to mind, raising one leg to wrap around his hip and pull him even nearer. Gasping for air around Spike’s fervent kisses, Buffy tried to murmur something, but Spike was too caught up in the taste of her lips to give her time to speak. Eventually, she pushed him away slightly and smirked at his pitiful pout.
“Awww, look at that lip… gonna get it.” She laughed, a tinkle of happiness that had Spike smiling too as he remembered their fake engagement. “Just be patient while I get rid of-” and Buffy bent down, unzipping her boots and throwing them over her shoulder, “-these. Better. Now… why are you so far away?”
Then he wasn’t. There was no space between them as he lifted her onto the bar, sweeping it clean of glasses and bottles and laying her down. Buffy sighed happily as he kissed her, sending tingles along her spine as he moved from her lips to her throat, nuzzling her neck and nipping softly. She was so distracted by the total domination of his mouth that she didn’t realise her blouse was now open, and her jeans, and it took Spike’s determined tug on her waistband to focus her attention on the fact that he wanted her to lift her butt. She didn’t need any further persuasion; the only thing Buffy wanted right now was Spike, naked, and locked between her thighs. Once she’d pressed her lips against his for the first time that night, any hesitation or second-guessing had flown out the window.
And then she was undressed, and she was horny and Spike was – well, just standing stock still staring at her, actually.
Spike shook himself and bent down to kiss her before answering. “I’m just- bloody hell, Buffy. I never thought-I’ve never felt-oh sod it! Enough talkin’.”
Buffy gripped the ever-present duster and dragged it off his shoulders, urging him to shrug it off. At the same time Spike toed off his boots, releasing one arm from the coat so that he could work on his zipper and between them they managed to get him undressed, save for one leg of his jeans that refused to be shook off. At that point, he didn’t care and clambered onto the bar, covering Buffy’s welcoming form and marvelling again at the change in his fortunes when Buffy grabbed at him eagerly and pulled him closer for more kisses.
The sounds that were coming out of Buffy’s mouth, the murmurs, the whimpers, the moans and sighs, were rocketing straight to Spike’s groin and unless he moved straight on past go, he’d be leaving a disappointing puddle on the bar and cursing. Moving as slowly as he could manage given his delicate condition, he stopped kissing the Slayer and drew back so that he could see her eyes. He didn’t want to do this unless she wanted him to want to. And unless she wanted him, too. He was babbling, hardly helpful. He was looking for a final sign that she truly meant what her body was saying, because he was a millisecond away from not being able to stop.
Noting the stillness of her vampire, his blue eyes showing his heart and his uncertainty, Buffy melted. What had started out as an impulsive adventure, a way to scratch the itch that had crept up on her slowly but surely and had suddenly become a whole lot more.
Not being able to find the words, Buffy made sure she had eye contact with Spike and smiled, nodding slowly and cupping the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss. At the same time she wrapped her legs around him and left him in no doubt exactly where she wanted him to be, finally whispering his name against his lips.
That was enough for Spike’s fragile control to crack. He wanted to explore her body, kiss her skin, make her shiver with his tongue caressing her from head to toe – but right now, that was impossible as lust took over. And then his cock was buried inside her, accompanied by twin gasps as the realisation of what had just happened hit them both. Wide open blue eyes met green, Buffy closing hers as Spike began to move.
“Oh, God – Spike! This is… oh!” Whatever Buffy was trying to say was lost as she bucked up against Spike’s thrusts, clawing at his back and mewling, her breath coming in little pants as each thrust sent her sliding further up the bar. More bottles and glasses crashed to the ground until they came to rest up against the wall, Buffy flinging up her hand to brace herself. She could feel an orgasm building to a crescendo, and bucked harder, moaning as she felt Spike’s fingers entwine with hers above her head and his cool lips moving along her neck. Tingles of vampire awareness coupled with the sensual feel of his blunt teeth nibbling at her throat had her completely out of control and she dug her nails into his hand and his butt, muttering inane phrases coupled with Spike’s name, begging him not to stop, never to stop.
Spike shuddered, trying desperately to make this culmination of all his dreams last longer, but the sensory overload was too much for him and he came with a roar, his fangs descending slightly as he was caught between human and vampire guise. The salty taste of Buffy’s blood teased his tongue, the scratch healing as he licked it, and the feel of Buffy’s pussy clenching around his cock as she screamed his name was better than anything he could ever have imagined.
Sated, Spike collapsed on top of her, listening to her racing heart slow and her breathing return to normal. She still had hold of his hand, relaxing it to rest behind his head. He took that as a good sign, a sign that she may not be about to come to her senses and stake him. Too soon, Spike felt Buffy wriggling beneath him and risked a look at her face, dreading what he’d find there. Disgust? Disappointment? Horror?
“Hey, you. Wow. Just… wow.” Buffy smiled and ruffled Spike’s curls, shifting position but making no move to scoot on out of there. “Wow.” She giggled.
“Buffy, I-” She stilled him with a finger to his lips.
“I know. Me too. And I know we have to talk, but can we just have this for now? Because honestly? Wow.”
Spike laughed then. Of all the things he thought he’d never be doing, this was at the top of the list. Lying with the slayer, naked, after amazing sex and sharing smiles and caresses. He’d never been happier. “Course, pet. Whatever you want. You know I only exist to make you happy.”
“Oh – what was it? ‘…all I am is yours to mould’?”
Spike dipped his eyes, suddenly coy. “Yeah, something like that. Just words, though, Buffy. Can’t really say what I want with words. Doesn’t even come close.”
“It’s close enough for me,” Buffy said, smiling at him and cupping his cheek with her palm. And it was, oddly. Everything seemed perfect, just right – and yes, there would be explanations and upsets and scorn. But that was alright. If this between them was what she thought it was becoming, well it would weather every assault on it. She stifled a yawn.
“Come on, you. Time to get you to bed – so to speak.” Spike raised an eyebrow and smirked and Buffy’s stomach did a somersault. “Can see you’re knackered – what happened to that slayer strength you’re always going on about? Vampire wear you out?”
Buffy laughed. “Maybe. Were you there? And again – wow! Now pass me my clothes.”
Spike kissed her softly then hopped off the bar, getting his feet tangled in the jeans that were still dangling from one leg. “Bugger!” he offered from the floor as he knocked over another bottle.
Buffy sat up and surveyed the destruction that surrounded them. “Not sure Willy’s going to be happy with us, Spike. We kinda trashed the place.”
“Ah well, serves him right for – well, there must be something. He’ll get over it. Here. No idea where your boots went.”
“Over there – and there. Could you, when you’ve got your boots on? We smashed up all the glasses.”
Spike finished getting dressed, risking a sly glance at the Slayer as she bent over to pick up her blouse and managing to pocket her panties before she got back up. No way was she having those back. He handed over her boots and held out his hand, biting his lip as he wondered if she’d take it. Inside Willy’s empty bar was one thing, but walking out with him, into the night, where there may be people – would she still want to hold him then?
It seemed a moment too long, and he was about to withdraw it, but then he felt strong, small fingers curling into his. Without another word they navigated the broken glass and out of the door.
Willy poked his head through from the back again, sighing as he surveyed the devastation that the really, really hot sex he’d just witnessed had created. Worth every broken bottle, no doubt about it.
“Walk you home, Buffy?” Spike was still uncertain of Buffy’s feelings about the whole night; he thought she was with him, but he’d been fooled before, mostly by himself. And he had asked her out on a date, after all. He should see her home.
“I’d like that,” she murmured, gifting him with a dazzling smile and leaning into his arm to nuzzle him as they swung their hands together.
Nothing else was said and it was only a short walk to Buffy’s home on Revello Drive. All the lights were off, and they were soon standing outside the front door, still holding hands, gazing at each other. Spike ventured another kiss, then another, and Buffy was in no rush to stop him, gyrating up against him again, so much so that she was in danger of being taken up against the house. Eventually, Buffy pushed him away, but gently, and not too far.
“Okay, stop! We both know where this is leading – again! – and I’m not saying that’s bad. Well, it is bad, but it’s a good bad. Reallllllllly good. Okay, stop looking at me like that, with the tongue and the tilt and the – my god, you’re killing me, Spike! Stop it!”
Spike was reaching out for her again, and she was about to give in and suggest the tree as a less obtrusive makeshift bed, when the light in her mom’s room came on. Spike pouted and kissed her again, softly this time but so thoroughly Buffy was dizzy when they finally, reluctantly. stepped away from each other.
“I better go in.”
“Yeah, looks like.”
Spike looked at the ground, hands in his pockets, but made no attempt to move. Buffy didn’t try to go in the house either, not wanting to leave him. She was so doomed.
“Well?” she finally said. “Is that it?”
Spike’s head shot up. “What?”
“You’ve nothing to say to me?”
“Sheesh! Thought you were a poet – and here you are, lost for words. What do you usually do after a first date, Spike?”
Spike was horrified as he realised that after a first date he usually disposed of the body – but surely that wasn’t what the Slayer was referring to. He panicked, eyes wide, as he thought she might be.
“Not sure what you mean, Slayer.”
“Oh for pity’s sake! Well, guess I’m a modern girl, leave it to me.” She cleared her throat and took a step towards him. “Spike, I’ve had a lovely – if surprising – time tonight and I’d like to see you again. Can I call you?” Her eyes were alight with mischief, and Spike relaxed.
“Sure, I’d like that.” Spike reached for her chin and tilted her face up so that he could gaze into her eyes, make sure he had her full attention. “I’m yours, Buffy. Always.”
Buffy blushed. His eyes were so full of raw emotion; it was easy to see where the poet resided. She was wildly in danger of falling head over heels in love with this vampire. Hell, she already was, if truth be told. But she’d keep that to herself a little while until she had time to get used to the idea. And besides, dating was fun.
“I know. Spike, I-”
“Shh. Talking later, remember? Now get some kip. Got plans for you tomorrow night. If we’re dating, we’re doing it properly. I was brought up knowing how to treat a lady.” Spike bowed at the waist flamboyantly and kissed Buffy’s hand before releasing it and turning away, walking slowly with that familiar swagger that she found so delicious.
“Tomorrow then,” she called softly.
“Tomorrow,” he replied, turning back to bow again before resuming his swagger.
“Oh, and Spike?”
“Yeah?” He stopped, turning back again, and tilted his head.
“Those panties need a cool wash.”
The door opened and she disappeared, leaving the end of her giggle and Spike staring at the empty space. He laughed and turned for home, wondering if he’d get any sleep at all now that he had more than dreams of the Slayer to fill his imagination. Whatever, he’d definitely be saying thank you to his muse.
Maybe he wasn’t such a bloody awful poet after all.
Thank you – and so to bed :)
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/349487.html