TITLE: Twisted
BY: Zorya
E-MAIL: LunarMyth
DISCLAIMER: Joss, WB, Mutant Enemy....all rich guy types, whereas I'm not...rich...or a guy....
CATEGORY: B/S
RATING: NC-17
DISTRIBUTION: If it's something you want, just ask.
SPOILERS: None that I can think of, takes place way after Season 3
SUMMARY: It's a break and the gang's all (well, nearly all) here. Buffy has Spike, Willow, Oz and Xander over for some weekend fun.
FEEDBACK: Would be nice. I crave it. I crave it in the morning, I crave it in the afternoon, I crave it in the evenings and at night, too. So ummm, I'm just a wealth of pent up desires. Just no flames, please.

========================


"And then he *sang* to you?" Willow asked incredulously.

Buffy nodded. "Odd is not the word to encompass it."

"Well...was he good?"

Buffy smiled wickedly. "Let's just say that among *other things*, his voice makes me melt."

"What're we melting?" Xander asked as he walked into Buffy's bedroom. Classes were out for the Christmas holidays and Buffy had moved back home. And since her mother had gone to an art convention in Los Angeles for the weekend, the gang was spending the time hanging out together.

"Buffy was just telling me how -" Willow grunted when Buffy elbowed her.

"I was just telling Will how I made this awesome pizza last night. It was really ooey-gooey and melty. But I ate a lot and now I feel like a cow."

Willow shot her a confused look, but at the mention of food Xander perked up. "Speaking of pizza, what's for dinner?"

Buffy and Willow grinned at each other. "Well, Oz'll be here soon with more pizza and Spike's bringing over ice cream," she grinned. "I don't care how much of a heifer I am, I don't pass up Ben & Jerry's."

"Are you sure your mom won't mind us all spending the night here?" Willow asked.

"Nah. It's not like we're having an orgy or anything." Both girls laughed when Xander's face fell.

Just then the doorbell rang and the three raced each other down the stairs. They skidded to a halt in a laughing mass and opened the door to a somewhat oblivious Oz. Buffy felt her heart drop a little when she saw it wasn't Spike, but she tucked that away and ignored it.

"All hail the Pizza Man," Xander said as he took the two large pizzas and carried them into the kitchen. Buffy watched the soft looks Willow and Oz gave each other and excused herself to go make sure Xander didn't hoover their dinner. Five minutes later Willow and Oz joined them in the kitchen and helped them get everything ready. They put ice in the cups, got out the drinks, set up the pizzas in the living room -- Xander having stolen only one piece -- and put the movie in the VCR. Just as they were about to sit down, the doorbell rang again.

"I'll get it!" Buffy shouted as she jumped up and ran to the door. She threw open the front door and stared at the man on the other side of the door. Her eyes traveled from the top of his bleached head, to the arrogant grin on his lips, to the red and black shirts that only enhanced the strong muscles of his torso, to the tight leather pants that accentuated his long legs and.... Buffy's gaze flew to his eyes and back down to the pants and back and forth countless times.

"Slayer, your cream is leaking."

Buffy's eyes widened in surprise. She pressed her thighs together, feeling the slick wetness slide between them, and a bright red blush bloomed over her cheeks. "What?!" she asked in a strangled voice.

Spike snickered and slipped passed her into the house. "Your cherished ice cream? It's melting and it's beginning to leak all over my hands."

Buffy took a few calming breaths. "Oh. Oh! Of course. Ummm, just go put it in the freezer." She rolled her eyes as she turned back to the living room and shot Willow a humiliated glance.

Buffy sat back down on the couch next to Xander and busied herself with getting the food served. She passed out the pizza and leaned back into the cushions, folding her legs under her. When Spike walked back into the room he made his way to the couch and sat next to her. Buffy pretended not to notice when he flung his arm behind her to rest on the top of the couch, his fingers brushing her neck accidentally as he moved.

"So what are we watching?" Spike asked. It felt rather odd to be seated in the Slayer's den, surrounded by her chums.

Buffy swallowed a bite of pizza and grinned up at him. "'Blade'."

Spike groaned. "I would have figured you got enough of this in real life, Slayer."

She shrugged. "Maybe I'm looking for a few pointers," she said glibly as she took another bite of pizza.

"If you wanted some 'pointers', Slayer, I'd be happy to give you a few."

Buffy patted his cheek sarcastically, secretly enjoying the cold, hard planes of his face. "Isn't he just so cute?" she asked Willow, who was torn between watching her friend and watching the movie. Buffy looked up at Spike, her tongue darting out unconsciously to moisten her lips. "Maybe I just thought you might enjoy an evening of watching vamps getting dusted. Keep you on your guard."

Spike felt his groin spasm as he watched her small, pink tongue run over her perfect lips. Lips he'd like to see surrounding his.... "Somehow I'm always on my guard around you, Slayer," he said quietly. She didn't notice, however; she was too engrossed in the movie.

The movie was a laugh for Spike. Who ever heard of using sunscreen to walk about in the sun? What rot. He hoped the Slayer knew how much he'd given up to come here tonight. But of course she didn't. And if he didn't want to lie to himself, he'd admit he hadn't given up much. The thought of being able to spend a night with the Slayer, even surrounded by her friends, was too much for him to pass up. A few of the scenes did make him a bit uncomfortable though. The sight of the vampire Frost with his gal pal sharing a kiss of blood brought back a few memories of his time with Drusilla. Oh, but how she would laugh at him if she could see him now. Sleeping with the enemy. Well, not quite, but he wanted to. Wanted the Slayer so much he could practically taste her. So when she stood up and began clearing away the remains of their dinner, he followed her into the kitchen.

"Enjoying your movie?" he asked sardonically.

Buffy busied herself with throwing away the trash and wrapping up the remaining slices of pizza. She didn't want him to be in here with her. He should have stayed with the others and watched the movie. She'd only gotten up because she couldn't sit still next to him anymore. Not when all she wanted to do was climb up on his lap and kiss him within an inch of his unlife.

"It's good," she said noncommittally. "I only wish I could move like him. Then again, he's a fictional character and I do a pretty good job of kicking vampire butt anyway. You?" she asked as she turned towards the freezer. Maybe some good old ice cream would cool her hormones down. Wasn't chocolate a cure for hormonal overdrive?

"It's a bunch of bull," he began as he hopped up onto the counter. "You'd think with all of our kind in Hollywood they'd be able to produce something with a bit of truth in it."

Buffy pulled out the two containers. Phish Food and Chubby Hubby. Spike had come through for her. She grinned over her shoulder. "Last I heard, you'd be pretty much dead from an overdose of Holy Water or a stake through the heart. Not too much fiction there." She got out five bowls and began dishing out the ice cream.

Spike slid off of the counter top and stealthily moved up behind her. Just as she was putting the lids back on the melting cream, he grabbed her left hand. Buffy jumped and turned into him, trapping herself between the refrigerator and his hard body. She looked up into his cold blue eyes and his strong fingers loosened their grasp on her wrist. His thumb rubbed over her palm in light caresses and the feeling made her legs turn to jelly. So caught up in the desire that was snaking its way through her body was she, that she didn't even notice he was drawing her forward until the cool sensation of his mouth on her fingers hit her. Her eyes flew open and Spike lost himself in their startlingly vivid blue-green color. Buffy whimpered as his tongue lapped at the remnants of the melted ice cream covering her fingertips and the sound inflamed his senses. He pressed her against the refrigerator door and Buffy smiled slightly as she felt his arousal rub against her.

"Are you guys killing each other in there? In case you hadn't noticed, we're watching a movie in here and we can't exactly come and get the ice cream ourselves. It's *so* hard to get good help these days," Xander called out to them from the living room.

Buffy blinked and they fell back into reality. "I, uh, I just need to bring this to them," she muttered as she put the bowls on a tray and walked out of the kitchen.

"I'm really going to have to kill that kid," Spike said to himself as he followed her.

Buffy smiled as she walked back into the room. "Thank you for that not so subtle hint, Xander. I'm gonna say Cordy had a bigger effect on you than we all thought."

Xander dug his spoon into the ice cream. "Mmmmm. Can't deny that. But you have to admit, she was the expert on good help. Or was it that she's the expert on bad help?" He shrugged. "Dunno, dun care."

Buffy waited until Spike had settled back down on the couch before opting to sit on the floor. She comforted herself in the rich mess of chocolate and marshmallow cream and contented herself to watch the rest of the movie.

"You know, you should get a coat like that, Buffy. They're really sexy," Willow said as she hit the "rewind" button.

"I could always just steal Spike's."

"You get near my coat and I will kill you, Slayer," Spike said menacingly.

"Ooooh...I'm shaking. You couldn't even touch me if I didn't want you to."

"I suppose all those times I've kicked your arse was just you *wanting* me to touch you then?"

The room fell silent except for the soft whir of the VCR.

"I, uhh...didn't mean it like..." Spike started.

"Oh yeah, no prob, I mean, we all knew, and uhhh.... So Wills, what'd you bring?"

Willow looked back and forth from her friend to the vampire. "Oh, I uhhhh, well you might not wanna do it. I mean, I just remembered how much fun Xander and I used to have doing it...."

Buffy arched a brow. "Spit it out."

Willow bowed her head self-consciously. "I brought 'Twister'," she mumbled.

Buffy jumped up from her spot on the floor. "Really? Yay! I could do with a little stretching. Let me just clear this stuff away." She picked up the empty bowls as Xander and Spike moved the furniture around.

"I think I'm just gonna sit this round out," Buffy heard Xander say as she walked back into the room. The mat was set up and he was sitting on a chair, out of the way, holding the "spinny thing".

"But Xander," Willow pleaded. "Don't you remember how much fun we used to have? It won't rock without you."

"I just...the thought of Buffy in a situation where she'd be able to cause my body great pain just isn't tempting."

"You're a wimp, Harris," Buffy called out.

"Maybe, but I'd like to keep my manhood safe and sound, if you don't mind. I'll call out the instructions, though. I'm with ya in spirit, Wills."

Spike rolled his eyes as he watch the Slayer and her friends get into position next to the mat. This was not his idea of a good time. But if it pleased the Slayer....hell. He was whipped.

"Right hand green."

It was an okay start. No one was crying in pain. Though that might have made Spike feel better.

"Left foot blue."

Spike wondered if it was possible for a vampire's parts to go to sleep.

"Left hand yellow." Xander grinned as he watched his friends begin to twist themselves around each other. "Left foot red."

Spike almost groaned audibly as he discovered the reason most teenage boys love to play Twister. His left foot was on red -- but he'd started from the red side -- and he was bent over, propping his hands on green and yellow. But this was not the bad part. No, the bad part was that the Slayer was right in front of him with her right foot on the green side of the board, her left foot on red and her were hands on green and yellow. She was bent over and Spike was extremely happy she couldn't see his expression. The way the thin fabric of her short, loose boxers hung as her legs spread apart allowed for a great view and he could see the white lace of her panties along with a dark shadow of the curls beneath the slip of fabric.

"Right hand blue."

Buffy crossed her right arm under her left and looked back. She had a clear view through her legs and saw Oz and Willow laughingly trying to arrange themselves in the back. But that wasn't what unnerved her. The fact that Spike had had to twist himself toward her to put his right hand on blue unnerved her. Coupled with the fact that his face was almost right between her legs. It was slightly mortifying.

Spike felt himself harden as he moved closer to the Slayer's thighs. If his senses didn't betray him, and they never did, this game was pretty arousing to her as well. He could smell it on her. He almost jumped when he saw her staring at him, but gave in to a wicked grin instead. She blushed furiously and raised her head.

"Make another call, Xander. Please," she pleaded.

"Mmmmm," he said as he spun the pointer. "Right foot yellow."

Buffy almost sighed in relief. Until she realized that in order to get her foot on yellow, she had to twist her body so that her leg was over Spike's arms and leg, bringing her even closer to him than she'd wanted to be. She silently cursed him for feeling the need to take the yellow spot right behind her.

"Left hand green."

She twisted again and slapped her hand on the green spot to her side. Buffy had to turn her body to the right in order to keep her balance and as she turned her head she encountered Spike's lips. Well, not exactly, but they were only a hair's breadth apart. If she just leaned forward a millimeter she could kiss him. Then she'd be able to feel those full, firm, cold lips on hers again. Buffy remembered the way his gelid demeanor had melted beneath the heat of her kiss and she sighed.

Spike's gaze roamed over the Slayer's face. Even up close and personal she was beautiful. Some people were pretty from far away and when you got in their face you could see that it was all an act or facade of some sort. But not his Slayer. There was a glow about her that came from the inside. Her warm breath caressed his cheek; Spike noted with satisfaction the passion darkening her dark eyes.

"Right foot red," Xander said, snickering as he watched the guys try to maneuver themselves into place.

Buffy groaned. "Okay. I'm gonna try to slide my leg under yours," she warned Spike.

"Be my guest," he offered. His whole body tensed as her leg brushed against his abdomen before settling haphazardly on a red dot. "My turn," he said. While he held himself up on his hands, he turned his body so that he was facing upwards. He stared at the ceiling as he slipped his right leg between hers and rested his foot in the red.

Buffy tried not to look down at Spike. He was practically right under her. In his determination to hold himself up his body was tensed and hard and his leather clad thigh was pressing into her groin, practically holding her up with him. She could feel the soft leather against the tender skin of her inner thighs and Buffy felt hard pressed not to rub herself against him like a cat.

She turned her head and almost fell over laughing as she watched Willow and Oz battle with their bodies over who was going to stay "standing". Oz was short and he was already wrapped around his girlfriend's body. He could barely reach the spots he needed to. And Willow was leaning over him, determined to stay in the game though her balance was on the verge of toppling.

Xander couldn't help but giggle. Which was rather scary coming from him. "Left foot yellow."

"You're having too much fun, Xander Harris! Somehow I didn't remember this game as trying to kill me," Willow whined.

Buffy shook her head and slid her foot forward, which just so happened to cause her to grind against Spike's thigh, not that she minded.

Spike was a different matter. His eyes widened as he felt the Slayer slide her body against his. "Hold on," he bit out as he moved. It was sad that he had to rely on his vampiric strength and grace to play a stupid children's game. With an ease that belied the strain on his body he flipped over, landing on top of Buffy. He really hadn't thought that this would be the way he'd get close to her. His left hand was between her legs on blue while his leg pressed right up against hers to get to a yellow spot. The positions they'd gotten into were only feeding his imagination; Spike just hoped she wouldn't get near enough to feel how much it was affecting him.

Buffy jerked upwards when she heard Willow shriek. She couldn't hold back the peels of laughter as she saw Oz and Willow in a tangled heap on the other side of the map.

Spike was aware that their partners had "crumbled under pressure", but he was too caught up in the way the Slayer's hair fell over her shoulders and the way the straps of her tank top had the tendency to slip off of her shoulders and the way she tilted her head back just a bit when she laughed. Oh sot it all! He was obsessed with the little girl under him and he couldn't get her out of his mind. She was driving him crazy! Angrily, he snatched his gaze away from her warm, soft skin and glanced at the wolf and the witch. They were still on the mat, smiling and laughing and wrestling as if they hadn't a care in the world. It was disgusting.

And it was what he wanted with the Slayer.

Buffy was surprised when Spike thrust himself away from her with a snarl and stood up.

"Ooooh, I win!" she cried as she flopped onto the mat on her back. She looked up at Spike curiously. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a quitter, Spike. Knew you were gonna lose, huh?"

"I wouldn't have lost, Slayer. I just couldn't stomach the thought of being near you when I didn't have to be."

Buffy's jaw dropped. Had she heard right? No, he couldn't mean it. Could he? This was Spike, after all. Good old evil, soulless, vampire Spike. She noticed that Willow and Oz and even Xander had stopped what they were doing the minute the harsh words filled the room. Buffy forced a brittle smile at Spike as she hopped to her feet. "Well, by all means I wouldn't want to impose my wretched presence on you any longer than *necessary*. Feel free to let the door hit you on the ass when you leave. Which should be right about now."

"Slayer -" he started, feeling guilty at the harsh words that had popped out of his mouth. All he wanted to do was kiss her and hold her close, but no, his damnable pride had to get in the way. The fact that she had as much, if not more, stubbroness as him didn't help matters.

"I said get out," Buffy told him calmly.

"Look, if it hadn't been for your little get together, I would. But it's almost sunrise and if don't wanna -"

"I wouldn't let that get in your way," she cut him off coldly as she moved to head up to her room. She was furious with herself for letting her guard down around him.

With lightening speed Spike followed her and grabbed her arm, turning and pulling her to him at the same time. "I don't let *anything* get in my way," he growled just before her captured her lips in a brutal kiss. She fought him at first, but only half-heartedly. The cool feel of his mouth against hers drove her crazy, and when his tongue slipped past her lips her knees went weak and she leaned into his embrace. They kissed for what seemed like eternity, until Buffy pushed away, gasping for breath.

"Well, this is interesting," Xander commented. "Y'know, I'm beginning to think a guy has to be dead to get anywhere with you, Buff."

"Drop dead, Xander," Buffy murmured. "I'm going to go take a shower. Spike's right. It's practically morning. I'm sleepy. I'll bring down the pillows and blankets when I get out."

Xander watched as she walked up the stairs. "Sooo....you're saying I *do* have a chance, then?"

"Not bloody likely, Boy Wonder," Spike said as he sauntered back into the living room. "Not while I'm around, anyway."

"I wouldn't mind doing something about that," Xander offered.

Spike morphed into his game face and looked at him. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Xander nodded. "Like sitting right here and minding my own business, of course." He sat down on the loveseat and trained his gaze off of the vampire.

His human guise fell back into place. "Yeah, I thought so."

Oz sat down on the couch and propped hsi legs up. When he patted the cushion, Willow obligingly laid down next to him. The two whispered secret things in each other's ear, oblivious to two men in the room. Soon Spike got fed up and walked around the house, restless and looking for soemthing to do.

Buffy turned off the hot water and wrung the water out of her hair before stepping out of the shower. She picked up one plush white towel and wrapped it turban style in her hair and used the other one to pat her body dry before wrapping it around her. She gazed into the mirror over the sink and sighed. It was cloudy with steam and for a moment, she could pretend that she didn't have a reflection. But she did. It was only one of the many reasons she could't be with them -- with their kind. Was she a sick person to love vampires? To crave their touch and want to feel them inside of her? Well, not all vampires. Only two, really.

She opened the door and sucked in a breath as the frigid air hit her body. It was a feeling she loved...it reminded her so much of her absent lovers. She could almost imagine it was they who were encompassing her in an erotic embrace of death.

*Sick, Buffy. You're one sick little puppy.* She walked to the hall linen closet and pulled out extra blankets and pillows and headed downsatiars. She smiled motherly at the picture she was met with. Xander was stretched out over the loveseat, his long legs hanging off of the end, and was snoring softly. She moved quetly so as not to wake him, and spread a blanket out on top of him. He sighed softly and snuggled down into its warmth and Buffy grinned. She turned and saw Willow and Oz curled up together on the couch and so she used the other blanket for them. She looked over her shoulder and saw the figure curled up in the corner. Her heart almost went out to him, but she stopped herself. She didn't need to let her emotions get in her way again. *Let him freeze to death* she thought, knowing quite well she didn't mean it -- as if it was impossible anyway. Buffy climbed the stairs again and decided to crash in her own room. She just didnt need to be near Spike.

On her way to her room she pulled the towel off of her head and put it in the hamper. She was just going to let it air dry tonight. Wasn't like anyone was going to be seeing her, anyway. Buffy slipped into her room and was met by the warm, welcoming glow of her lamp.

"Just you and me tonight, Mr. Gordo," she said as she kicked the door closed and walked to her bed. "Just like every other night, but hey. We've got each other." She flopped down on her bed, still wrapped in the towel, and continued talking to her stuffed pig. "He's not worth it, you know. Well, maybe he is -- just a little bit. he doesn't even have a soul," she said defenzively. "And in the event that I *did* fall for him -- which I won't -- it's not like he could love me back. It would just be about good sex. Well, really great sex, from the feel of things. Oh, Mr. Gordo! Everytime I'm with him, I just want to kiss him. The way that sardonic smile plays over his lips...he's so arrogant...I love that about him. The way that even when we're fighting together I can feel at ease, because I know he won't let anything bad happen to me. That's probably because he's waiting to kill me himself some day, but still. He's dangerous, but he has this way of making me feel totally safe. And the way those gorgeous icy blue eyes heat up with passion....ohhhh. I'm pathetic," she moaned. With a disgusted sigh, Buffy turned over and practically screamed. But she caught herself. She didn't want to wake the others. "What the hell...?!?!" She jumped to her feet and tugged the towel tightly around her. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

The object of her thoughts and conversation was stretched out in a chair that had been strategically placed in the corner of her room next to her door. She hadn't even noticed him when she'd walked in. He had removed his black under shirt and was now lounging lazily in his delicious looking leather pants and complettely unbottoned red silk shirt. The dark colors contrasted vividly aainst his pale skin, but that was not what drew Buffy's attention. No, she was more intent on drinking in the sight of his naked torso, so well muscled and defined.

"I got bored downstairs, so I figured I'd wait in here until you got out of the shower. They don't have half the...stamina...you and I do, Slayer," he told her as he watched her, his heavy lidded gaze gleaming predatorily. "I didn't mean to intterupt. Feel free to continue your most stimulating conversation."

Buffy blushed hotly at his words. He'd heard every word she said. "How dare you...." Her voice was low and accusing.

"Oh, I dare," he said as he rose from his seat smoothly and walked to her. "Tell me something, Slayer...."

She turned away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, holding the towel to her. "What?"

Spike gently turned her around and lifted her face to his. "If I'm so hot, are you willing to get burned?"

Buffy's eyes flew open. "I didn't say you were hot! I - I wasn't even talking about you!"

Spike grinned. "Sure, Slayer." He moved behind her and rested his hands on her silken shoulders. With expert fingers he began massaging away the tension in her muscles. "What's got you so stressed?" he asked, his lips hovering next to her ear.

"I'm not stressed," she told him. But Spike's fingers were too much for her. She leaned forward to allow him greater access to her back. "That feels so good," she murmured. Buffy moaned in discontent when he stepped away from her. "Don't stop!" she whined.

Spike chuckled lowly. "I'm not stopping, Slayer. believe me, I've barely begun." He turned her around and stepped away, eyeing her critically.

"What?" Buffy asked self-consciously.

Spike merely shook his head and shrugged out of his shirt. With a flick of hiw wrist it landed on top of the lamp, lending a dark red glow to the room. He moved behind her once again and positioned her right in front of her Cheval mirror. "Look at yourself," he murmured, tracing a finger along the underside of her jaw. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

Buffy gazed critically into the mirror. She was short with wet blonde hair. She looked like a drowned rat. And she said so.

Spike laughed aagin. "No. Rodent you are not." His icy finger tips danced over the slender column of her neck. "You're like a goddess," he whispered. "You're like the sun."

"So you're saying it pains you to be around me?" she asked with a smile in her voice.

Spike wrapped his arms around her and drew her back against him, letting her feel how aroused she made him. "You could say that." With a sharp tug he divested her of the towel. Her body was warm and smooth, begging to be touched. "See?" he asked, his hands settling on her waist. "You're magnificent."

Buffy tried to turn around, but Spike held her steadily in place. "Spike, this isn't fair. I want to see you."

"Not yet," he told her. "I told you, I haven't even begun to play yet." He placed a light kiss on her nape and looked down over her shoulder her. Her breasts were firm and full, not too big and not too small. Spike splayed his hands over her waist and let his fingertips trace soft caresses over her body. Back and forth, he let his fingers travel over her abdomen and up her sides. They followed the soft curve of her breasts and he smiled when he heard Buffy catch her breath.

"Spike," she whispered achingly.

"Patience, Slayer. It's a virtue." Spike bit his lip as he drew circles around her nipples, watching as they grew taut and erect right bfore his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to replace his fingers with his mouth, but it wasn't the time. He wanted the Slayer to enjoy this emmensely. "I want you to do something for me, Slayer."

"What?" Buffy's voice came out in a husky sigh and she cursed herself for being weak.

"No matter what, I want you to keep your eyes on the mirror. Watch yourself. Watch your p;leasure. Can you do that for me?" His voice was so soft, so sexy, that she couldn't deny him. The thought of it made her tremble anyway. It was so blatantly....erotic.

She nodded and stared face forward. It was odd. She could feel him and hear him, but she couldn't see him. But that only heightened her other senses. Desire was streaking through her like liquid fire and pooling at the juncture of her thighs. Buffy pressed her legs together as her vaginal muscles spasmed. Already she wanted to feel him inside of her.

Spike inhaled her feminine scent. It was enough to inflame his senses. He wanted to throw her to the floor and ravish her glorious body, but he knew that it wasn't the way to win her heart. Which was his ultimate goal, he'd admitted it to himself. He thought that if he could invade her every waking thought -- her dreams as well -- perhaps she would become as consumed with him as he was with her. And that was why he had to make this perfect for her. It was his one chance to drive her as insane as she made him.

Spike lifted his left hand and pulled her damp hair away from her neck to spread it over her shoulder. His mouth dipped into the delectable curve between her neck and shoulder and he lavished her with kisses. His tongue licked the sensitive spot only to move downward to where he could feel the strong pulse of her heart. As he suckled and tasted her flesh, his hands ran down her sides. He caressed the soft swell of her hips, the firm curve of her ass, and nudged her thighs apart with his knee.

Buffy watched herself in the mirror. It was an amazing feeling. She could see her body's reactions to Spike without him getting in the way. She blushed as her nipples hardened for him and her chest heaved with her breathing as he nibbled at her jugular. Her head tilted back against his shoulder as his knee wedged its way between her thighs. Buffy saw the movement in the mirror, but it was only the way her thighs slowly parted, as if allowing entry to her phantom lover. Which was exactly what Spike was to her at that moment. She could feel him all over her body, sucking, licking, rubbing, penetrating. She'd never felt so alive; all of her nerves were aware of his presence. But she couldn't see him. His strong arm came around her and held her tight against him as she went weak in the knees, but all Buffy saw was an unnamed force holding her up for display. His cold fingers brushed through the dark curls that hid her throbbing core. She squirmed as he tickled the insides of her thighs. "Spike...." she moaned.

He grinned down at the little beauty in his arms. Who'd have thought that one day William the Bloody would have a Slayer wet and begging in his arms? It was astounding. It was unheard of. It was all Spike wanted for the rest of his life. He took pity on her trembling body and trailed a fingertip over her slick slit. Cor, but she was hot! For a moment he was afraid she'd burn him, just like the sun he'd compared her to. But she didn't, and Spike reveled in her liquid fire. His fingers delved into her core, yet denied her the pleasure she sought to fulfill. The Slayer was like silk and velvet and heat all rolled into one.

Though she could barely keep her eyes open, Buffy watched as she spread her legs farther and farther apart, inch by inch. She wanted, no needed, Spike to touch her. There were no second thoughts, only an insane need for completion. Her hips rocked against his skilled hand as she fought to reach her destination. If Spike hadn't been holding her up, she would have fallen to the floor in a heap of pent up desires. She could feel his fingers delving further and further into her depths and she cried out in frustration. He was taunting her, teasing her. But she was enjoying it. Buffy watched as her body twisted and turned against her phantom lover's caresses. She looked like a woman possessed; her hair was tossed wildly over her shoulder and her body was undulating in an erotic display of her sexuality. Seeing herself as this wanton creature only served to arouse Buffy even more. Her hands moved behind her and ran over the backs of Spike's thighs. As she neared the edge of oblivion, her fingers gripped his ass, pulling him to her. "Please, Spike...now," she pleaded.

Spike could deny her nothing. He trailed his fingers over her womanhood, slippery from her juices, and teased her clit, causing the woman in his arms to whimper at the sensations. He felt the way she tensed, her muscles spasming as the pleasure rolled over her in waves, and he could not hold back the demon inside from taking its pleasure also. As she arched her back violently against him, her hands pulling him to her and her head thrown back in wild abandon -- leaving her smooth, slender neck bared for him, Spike morphed into his game face and buried his fangs into the sweet pulse he'd kissed only moments earlier. The Slayer's blood was thick and sweet and full of life. It's bouquet was heady with her passion and purity and even a tinge of fear.

Buffy tensed as she felt Spike's fangs penetrate her tender flesh. Oddly enough, however, it didn't detract from the climax she was still enduring -- just added and extra kick. As she felt her life slipping into Spike, it gave her a feeling of completeness she'd never encountered before. Buffy knew, of course, that a vampire could taste its victim's emotions, but it was strange how she could feel his also. She could feel his desire, his heat for her; she could tell that he was...afraid that he would drain her too much -- she could feel his...love?

Spike withdrew from her body as she calmed. With ease, he picked her up and laid her on her bed. He gazed down into her lush green eyes and smiled. The Slayer was still pliant and sated from her pleasure and loss of blood. The thought that she might be furious when she woke up tickled the back of his mind, but he dispelled the fear. He would deal with that if it came.

"Stay with me?" Buffy asked groggily. The way Spike had manipulated her body was amazing, but now she just wanted him to hold her.

"You've got company, Slayer. What if they wake up and find me here with you?" Spike wanted nothing more to lie down next to her and hold her in his embrace. But what he'd said was true. Plus, he'd wanted to make love to her tonight. It was his own fault that he couldn't now. She was drained and helpless, and he really couldn't believe he was going to let the opportunity pass him by. She couldn't tell him no. Spike cleared his throat and continued before his lack of a conscience could talk him out of his decision. "It'd be best for everyone if I got back down there."

Buffy frowned. Did he not want her? Had she been unsatisfying to him? The thoughts raced through her head, but she nodded her agreement. "Yeah, I guess you should."

Spike tucked her into her covers and by the time he stood up straight, his Slayer was already fast asleep. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Sleep well, love." Without a flourish he turned her bedside lamp off and slipped his shirt back on. He was in love with the Slayer. That was the only explanation.

And he was whipped.





Home