Spike just looked at Buffy until she finally sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Fine. I must have a death wish," she muttered.
Yeah, he'd agree with her on that one.
"Come on in, but if you try anything funny, you're staked."
"Oh, yeah, you're scary," he replied, following her into the tiny, sparsely furnished trailer. He flopped down in an armchair that's stuffing was spilling from various holes and crossed one leg over his knee. "So, what are you doing in the middle of nowhere, Kansas?"
Buffy gave him a sharp look and dropped her bag on the kitchen table. "Where's Drusilla?"
Spike frowned at her. "Okay, no tough questions. What should we chat about?"
"So, what happened? She dump your sorry ass?" Buffy persisted.
"You really are looking for death, aren't you, Slayer?" he quipped in a menacing voice.
Sighing, Buffy sat down in a kitchen chair and crossed her arms across her chest. "Why are you here, Spike? In my trailer?"
"Because you invited me, luv."
Buffy rolled her eyes at the literalness of his answer and Spike began to tap the fingers of one hand on the arm of the chair.
"Maybe because you're the first familiar thing in a thousand miles," he said through gritted teeth. His voice gentled as he gazed at her frozen, empty face. "Why are you here, Buffy?"
It was the first time he had ever spoken her name to her and something opened inside her. She blinked at fresh tears. "I don't know," she whispered. Wiping at her eyes, she got up and started past him. "I think you better leave."
As she stumbled past, Spike caught her wrist and the next thing either of them knew, she had tumbled onto his lap. Buffy squirmed in a mixture of fear and embarrassment and their eyes met. Something in his eyes made her stop trying to get up.
The hand that held her wrist loosened and began to caress her trembling skin. Buffy's lips parted in a pant as she watched his eyes darken, harden. Unbidden, her free hand touched his cheek. The firm, cool skin was so familiar...
A low moan broke from her as her body came alive to the feeling of a man holding her. Tingling sensations washed over her and the tears leaked from her wide eyes. "I need..." she whispered.
"What do you need?" he answered in a husky voice, full of emotion he hadn't expected to feel.
"I need...to be held."
Spike's arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer until her breasts pressed against his chest. He couldn't believe this was happening. That he was growing aroused by holding the slayer!
But, he was. He wanted the young woman trembling in his arms. He had always found her attractive, enjoyed her wit and sarcasm, admired her sleek, lithe body, but...she was the slayer!
Trying to find a way out of this before they fell in too deep, he said, "And none of a billion mortals in this world could hold you?"
Buffy shook her head. "They'd make me feel alive. I don't want to feel alive." The hand on his cheek slid up into his hair. "Can you make me feel death, Spike?" she whispered before covering his mouth with her's.
All rational thought fled Buffy's mind. His touch was so familiar. She needed to feel that way again...the way *he* had made her feel, his cold hands caressing her hot flesh, his cold cock deep inside her. He had made her want to die...Maybe with Spike she finally would.
Stunned by the touch of her hungry mouth, Spike found himself instinctively responding, his arms tightening around her. The word 'slayer' kept bouncing around his short- circuiting brain, but his body was in control...for now, at least.
When she rose to her feet, still kissing him, he followed her and pulled her against him. Buffy rose on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, thrusting her tongue into his mouth with growing passion.
No longer thinking, driven by the heat spreading through her loins, Buffy backed them down the hall towards her tiny bedroom and the double bed it contained. A tiny part of her screamed at how wrong this was, but her body, untouched for so many months, was on over-drive, throbbing, hot, needing a man's touch.
And when that little part of her yelled that he wasn't a man, she ruthlessly shut it up, digging her hands into Spike's shoulders and tugging him down with her onto the bed.
The room was dark, but he could see her clearly as he lay propped over her. She was panting and trembling, obviously hungry for his touch. As he watched the emotions play across her face, knowing she couldn't see the similar emotions on his, Spike's hands began to unbutton her shirt.
He wouldn't ask her if she was sure she wanted to do this. If she said no, he wasn't sure he could stop.
At the feel of cold fingers sliding over the tops of her breasts, Buffy moaned deep in her throat, pushing her pelvis up against his hardness. She helped him pull his t- shirt over his head, then leaned up and began to place light kisses on his smooth chest.
Groaning, Spike turned her, pulling the shirt down her arms and flinging it over his shoulder as her hot lips touched his skin, sending sparks of pleasure racing through him. How long had it been since a woman had made him feel this way?
Gazing down at breasts encased in white lace, fuller and plumper than he could have imagined, an airless pant broke from his lips. Sliding one hand inside the cup, his fingers found her nipple, already hard. Buffy jerked and whimpered, her nails digging into his back as she began to nibble on one of his own nipples in lusty retaliation.
The front clasp of her bra easily opened for him and Spike feasted his eyes on her pale, pink-tipped breasts. Bending his head, he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.
Electricity jolted through Buffy. Gripping his head, she held him to her breast, moaning continuously. The pleasure was incredible--so long forgotten--so hot and unbearable. Spike moved to her other breast and she arched against him, eagerly offering herself.
As he tongued her nipples, one after the other, Spike's hands slipped down further and ran over the crotch of her shorts. He could feel her damp heat through the thick cotton. Nimble fingers untying the drawstring, he began to pull the shorts down. Instinctively Buffy lifted her hips and he pulled the article of clothing free.
Pulling back, Spike rose to his knees and looked down at her, trembling on the bed. Her eyes were open, but glazed with desire, her fingers were digging rhythmically into the bedding beneath her, her slender legs were slightly parted. Leaning down, he pulled her sandals off, gently running his fingers over the arches of her sensitive feet.
Buffy's feet jerked and she whimpered. When his cold tongue circled her big toe, she nearly arched off the bed. "Oh God..." she moaned, thrashing her head. The heat between her legs had become a throbbing pressure and he was kissing her feet! "Please," she begged, not really sure what she was asking for.
Grinning, Spike placed a kiss on her ankle, then ran his tongue up her shin, knee and thigh. The muscles of her thigh jumped under his touch. As his lips brushed her hip, his sensitive nose smelled the musky scent of her arousal and he was oddly pleased that she wanted him so much.
Excruciatingly slowly, one of Spike's hands slid up her other thigh, then slipped to the inside, then lightly ran across the crotch of her white panties. Buffy arched against his hand, a shudder running through her entire body. He began to peel the panties down, over her hips and down her trembling legs, then off her feet.
If he could have breathed, his breath would have caught in his throat as he took in the sight of the soft, brown hair between her thighs. She was exquisite and incredibly sexy all at the same time.
Looking up, past her heaving breasts and panting lips, Spike caught her eyes. They were wild and full of need. He could prolong this for hours, but, as a very experienced man, he recognized that it had been a long time for her-- probably since that first and only time with Angel.
Dipping his head between her thighs, his mouth immediately found the center of her pleasure and he began to kiss and tongue her.
Buffy's knees pinned his head between her legs as she pushed against his mouth. "So cold, so cold, cold, cold..." she mumbled over and over as the pleasure built. Her hands found her breasts, tweaking the tender, hard nipples.
Spike had forgotten how different it was with a mortal. She was so hot to his touch, nearly burning his tongue as he lapped at her femininity. Her legs began a constant trembling and he knew she was near. Closing his lips around her throbbing clitoris, he sucked hard.
Yelling, Buffy exploded, her fingers twisting her nipples, her legs clenching his head, her body spasming. She flung her head back against the pillow and thrust herself against his mouth, her cries dwindling to moans.
Buffy whimpered as he pulled back and rose on shaky legs, but didn't have the strength to bring him back to her. Quickly Spike kicked off his shoes and yanked his jeans down his legs. Even with the endurance of a vampire, he couldn't wait much longer.
As he slid back between her thighs, Buffy's shaking arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him over her slick body. She moaned again as his hard, cold chest scraped over her throbbing nipples and met his mouth in a hungry, tongue thrusting kiss.
Feeling her legs wrapping around his hips, Spike slid his pulsing erection against her wet cleft. Buffy whimpered and pressed herself against him, sucking his tongue into her mouth.
As he thrust into her hot channel, she gasped, her eyes opening wide. It felt so good. Like ice inside her burning body. Her hips met his thrust and she tightened her legs around him.
Pulling her head back to pant through moist lips, she watched as Spike flung his own head back, propping himself above her with his arms on either side of her head. She began to run her nails over his chest, eliciting a groan from him as she scraped his nipples.
In the gloom of the room, she watched the pleasure that crossed his face, felt him speed up the thrusts, heard the slapping sound from flesh hitting flesh as their pelvises met. The tension began to build again inside her.
Groaning, unprepared for the quick, hot pleasure that slammed into her, she grabbed his shoulders, concentrating on grinding her sensitive mound against him. Putting his weight on one arm, Spike slid the other hand down between their bodies and began to finger her clitoris.
She yelped at his touch and climaxed noisily, babbling to God and clinging to him. Lowering his upper body to rest on her's, Spike gripped her hips and slammed her up against him as his climax hit. He thrust mindlessly, grunting in pleasurable agony as he emptied himself into her.
Finally, they both collapsed, him sprawled half on top of her, their bodies still intimately joined.
As his mind slowly returned to normal, Spike glanced up at the slayer with whom he had just shared an incredible sexual experience and found her asleep, flushed and cutely tousled.
Grinning, tired himself, he levered himself off of her and flopped on his back. Gently he pulled her into his arms and she curled around him, snuffling her face into his chest. Trying not to wonder what the Hell had just happened, Spike dozed off.