Disclaimer/Note: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer; no profit is being made from this fanwork and no infringement is intended.
The muse bit and I couldn't shake him loose... Apparently it's someone's birthday, so that's why. And I saw this through because I wanted to to sort of to prove to myself that I could write an actual PWP, cause dammit I usually add plot, and also write smut that involved a female. And I wanted to write smut my roommates don't run away from screaming... Tell me what you think.
WARNINGS: explicit sex.
"Oh Spike!" Buffy grasped his strong arm. "I never realized what a nice person you are! It doesn't matter that you don't have a soul, you are such a good man! And I love you so much!"
"Buffy," Spike leaned in close to her, breathing in the scent of the woman he had worshipped for so long now. "You know I only live for you. I would do anything to make you happy."
Her eyes shining, Buffy bent her head closer to him. "Make me happy Spike," she whispered, tracing her way over his cheek with a finger.
He turned, catching that finger, kissing the side of it before gently sucking it in between his teeth and swirling his tongue around it. She gasped and snatched her finger away to replace it with her mouth, devouring him desperately. Her body demanded his touch, so much so that she threw her legs around his waist to pull them closer together, pressing her heated, aching groin against his stomach. She broke the kiss, moaning, crying out again as Spike kissed her throat, pausing, lingering an instant, as fangs brushed her skin. A moment passed, and then his tongue snaked out, tasting her, and she shuddered as he licked and kissed his way down her throat.
He paused at her collarbone, tracing the line of the bone with his tongue, before heading further south, the low-cut neck of her shirt giving his easy access, letting his tongue taste the beating of her heart as it felt its way down her chest, slipping in between her breasts to kiss the soft hollow reverently. Buffy's hands were in his hair, desperately, tousling the pale strands as she moaned with desire, guiding him to the side, her breasts aching for attention.
Spike mouthed over the cloth covered flesh of her right breast, finding the nipple easily through the thin shirt. His tongue emerged again, flicking heavily against the hardening nub, wetting the shirt, the suddenly heavy cloth dragging against the sensitive flesh. Throwing her head back, Buffy cried out loudly, the pleasure almost too much, her legs tightening around Spike's waist, wanting him closer, wanting him to be part of her. He turned and threw her down on the bed, his hands snaking up under her shirt to touch her skin as he kissed her mouth again, himself desperate for more.
Returning his attention to her breasts, Spike pulled her shirt off before turning to the left nipple, making sure not to neglect it as he took the small nub between his teeth and worried it slightly, the counterpoint of pain enhancing the ecstasy. "Oh God, Spike," Buffy moaned out, kissing him again fiercely as he worked her pants down over her hips and tossed them aside.
Exploring the delicious new terrain of skin before him, Spike brushed his hands up over Buffy's hips so that they met just below her navel then swept them down, parting her legs to expose the heavenly expanse of her inner thighs and, just above and between them, perfection. He leaned forward eagerly, trembling slightly as he kissed her belly button, his tongue darting into the dip of her navel eliciting an exclamation. Delicate kisses lined the path of his journey southward as he traced the crease where her leg joined her body before slipping down between her legs.
He inhaled deeply, the scent of the woman strong here, before he tenderly kissed her inner thigh. His tongue tasted her and he couldn't hold himself back anymore. Eagerly, soft fingers parted her folds; fervently, an impatient tongue darted in, savoring this deepest part of her essence.
Buffy's head fell back as her spine arched, her body convulsing with ecstatic shudders as she tried to piece together the syllables of his name and utter them. Her fingers caressed his cheeks, her legs spreading wider as she wordlessly encouraged him. His tongue easily found the sensitive nub that was the center of her world and caressed it, coaxing louder and louder expressions of appreciation from her until, so full she thought she might shudder herself into pieces, she felt the tide break- and everything came spilling out, her body frozen in a final arc of pleasure, her fingers desperately clutching him close as she fell from that high tower and kept falling.
She gasped, breathing deeply, and suddenly he was there, lying beside her, breathing softly against her throat as he asked her softly, but a touch smugly, how she felt. There was no answer to such a question; at least, not a verbal one. She kissed him again and then, seizing his tightly fitting black t-shirt, ripped it from his body as she tightened her legs around him and threw him down on the bed, pulling him underneath her.
Her hands found themselves easily occupied exploring the smooth expanse of Spike's chest, and Buffy moaned again, still tingling from the pleasure of her climax and also anticipating the sheer bliss of a second one in the not too distant future as one hand slid between the vampire's legs to rub suggestively against the hardening flesh there.
He gasped and reached for her, but she grabbed his hands and held them above his head as she plundered his mouth yet again. Breaking off the kiss, she dropped others across his face- his forehead, over each cerulean eye, the long, slender line of his nose, over each prominent cheekbone, and finally his chin, the last one accompanied by a slight nip as she ducked her way under to let her tongue trace the curve of his throat. Her hands had drifted down; her thumbs rubbed heavily over his nipples as he finally could no longer hold back his own sounds of passion, an exquisite moan ripping from his throat.
Buffy grinned, her tongue tracing a pattern down the center of Spike's chest, before she did as he had and turned her attention to the hardened nub of a nipple. Her tongue traced a circle around the raised up flesh, then her teeth came down scraping against the sensitive nub. He hissed in pleasure, unable to keep his hands where she had placed them and burying them in her hair as he pressed his lips to her head and murmured repetitions of her name against the warm, golden strands.
She switched her attention to the other nipple, but her hands were bored and drifted downward. Tracing down over the hard plane of his abs, she let her fingers slip under the cloth of his jeans, shivering when she realized he wasn't wearing underwear, just as she hadn't been. Almost as impatient as he had been, she unzipped the jeans and peeled them away from her prize, revealing his aching cock; she reached out to touch this flesh- it hardened further at the caress of her fingers and he groaned heatedly, bucking up against her touch.
Wrapping her fingers tightly around his generous length, Buffy grinned and pinned him to the bed as he tried to overpower her and force an advance to the next step of the evening. He cried out in protest, but she claimed his mouth; he moaned against her lips and she shivered, squeezing and pumping his length, feeling his body react to her ministrations.
Finally, Buffy felt she'd tortured Spike enough; she relaxed her hold, letting him roll them over so that he was crouched above her, the aching hardness of his length between them, so close yet too far from her own aching groin. She spread her legs, looking up into his smoldering eyes as she offered herself. He moaned, beyond words as he took her gift, his cock pressing against her as her slick entrance accepted him easily. He moaned again, filled with ecstasy, and she moaned as well, filled within as her hunger for this man only mounted.
Spike couldn't even begin to express the feeling of ecstasy that filled him as he slid inside of Buffy, this woman he'd dreamed about; this woman who had offered herself to him, the reality more exquisite than any dream. Her body held him tightly and he moved, sliding against her before pulling away slightly and repeating the blissful action. She moaned, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him passionately, her obvious pleasure increasing his own. He ducked his head to taste her breast again and she moaned heatedly, her cries growing louder as any thoughts of inhibitions vanished in the face of passion.
Buffy shivered, pulling Spike's face up so that they could engage in another soul-devouring kiss before she turned his head, her hands buried in his bleached hair, so that she could attack his pale throat with her tongue; she traced the delicate hollows, her legs coming up and wrapping around him, his body shuddering in response to her movements as his thrusts against her grew more impassioned. He felt so perfect, taking the time even amid his own mind-altering rapture to make sure that she was experiencing the same. Her breath hissed softly, her body tingling, announcing the onset of her climax.
She felt her body tightening, pulling away from the source of her pleasure as it became too much, to exquisite for her body to handle, but Spike didn't hesitate in his deep thrusting, every movement lighting her inner being on fire as she threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream, an expression of a perfection inexpressible in words sealing her eyes shut as she gasped for breath, her fingers gripped so tightly in his hair her bones were white against her skin. She held his face against her chest, and he could only gasp as soundlessly as she as her body seized him, holding him so tightly it made the touch of her fingers seem light as the brushing of feathers. He shuddered, thrusting against her heat again convulsively, higher thought suspended as he was transported with her to another plane, where words only cheapened the purity of their bliss.
They lay together for a moment, gathering themselves, and when the moment was done they looked at each other, their eyes meeting. He pulled out, pulled away slightly, not pushing her- letting her go if it was what she wanted. But she reached out and pulled him against her again, holding him close so he rested against her shoulder, his ear over her heart. Her fingers slipped down and stroked along his body, sweaty and dirtied from their passion, but beautiful to her wandering hands. She leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, his normally slicked back hair loose and shaggy from the fascination of her hands. He sighed softly, a sound of completion, as he turned his face against her skin, smelling the rightness of her, his arms going around her to hold her as close as she held him.
