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tamingthemuseTitle: Do You Even Like Me?
His Slayer was hot to trot tonight. Just the way he liked her. He watched the blouse slide down her arms to join his shirt on the floor. She stepped close to him and reached up to take his lips again. He leaned into her, put his arms around her and unfastened her bra.
He felt her hands tugging at his belt so he followed suit and did the same for her. Each unbuckled the other’s belt, slid open zips and reached in to run fingers, either into dark, moist recesses or along a rapidly stiffening length.
‘Downstairs,’ she murmured, letting go his cock and winding her arms around his neck, as she met his lips with hers.
Without letting go her mouth, he pulled his fingers from their wet prize, put both hands under her still covered ass and picked her up. He started towards the opening to his bedroom below, still kissing her, sucking and chewing her tongue as they opened their mouths to each other. She kicked her shoes off as they went and wrapped her legs around his torso.
He used his bare foot to shove aside the slab and uncover the hole that opened to the lower level. He dropped them through the half opened gap in the floor and landed softly at the foot of the ladder, still clasping her in his arms. He felt her wetness coming through her panties onto his abdomen. She felt the head of his freed, hard length trapped between them. She broke the kiss to draw a breath.
‘Shut it,’ she ordered as she looked up toward the hole they had come through. She released her legs from around his hips.
He let her slide to her feet before he turned and jumped to the top of the ladder, and slid the slab back into place. He heard her shimmy out of her slacks behind him. She reached up to tug on the bottom of his jeans legs as he descended. He paused to lift first one leg than the other, from the treads, allowing her to pull his opened jeans free. Naked, he turned and dropped to the floor in front of her, his hard shaft bouncing against his bare belly. His arms circled her body as he lifted her to reclaim her lips.
She threw an arm around his neck, pushed off from the floor as he lifted her and brought her legs around his body once more. Reaching down between them with her other hand, she guided his cock into her body. She was already soaking and his length slid home until wiry curls met wiry curls. He ground his pubic bone into hers. She clenched him hard and bit his lip eliciting a heartfelt groan from him, as sensations of utter pleasure rippled through his body. Hot, wet, slayer squeezing the life from him. As close to heaven as he was ever likely to get.
She let his lips go and he swung them round so that her back was to the wall and he was in a position to direct his thrusts with better effect. Now she groaned at the sensations welling in her core, as his penis penetrated further, higher, and deeper until it rubbed against that place deep inside that took her to a new level. Every upward stroke ground her clitoris with his pubic bone, and drove the tip of his length into that glorious spot within.
She leaned her shoulders back against the wall and drove her body down to meet his upward thrusts, her pussy gripping and releasing his cock, with muscles honed by exercise and endowed with slayer strength. Neither held back at all, as they each sort their release; two supernatural creatures coupling with a ferocity that would break an ordinary human.
Her body, slick with sweat, slid up and down his smooth satiny abdomen as his buttocks clenched and unclenched and the muscles of his legs stood out in sharp relief as they pistoned him further into her, over and over. Eyes shut, fully enveloped in an animal lust, they were both lost to the driving need of their bodies, as they moved groin to groin. They were sex, they were creation, they were life exploding.
Her orgasm, when it came, shuddered and spiralled through her, her whole body shaking as his climax shot thick, heavy threads into her open womb. His body shook, legs trembled with the force of his release and he felt the thump of a heart beat in his chest. He could feel her heart racing wildly as she came. He smelt her juices flooding from her body, felt them drip down his thighs.
He brought his head forward and down to mouth and suck on her breasts as he continued to ejaculate inside his slayer. Drawing first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, he sucked and bit each in turn, hard enough to hurt a little. Her orgasm drew out, on the pain of his bites and his continued thrusting and then rose again with an even greater intensity as he once again began to pound into her.
He revelled in his ability to please her, to make her body sing. He loved how her body responded to his. She made him come like he never had before. Made him feel his release deep inside where William still ruled. He adored her, worshipped her, and loved her. Loved her light, her goodness, loved the things that made her Buffy. He loved the Slayer too.
She brought her head forward and bit his ear, hard. He raised his head, tilted it back and took her mouth with his. They toppled backwards as she leant into his kiss with all her weight. Tongues wrestled for dominance before she rose up, still impaled and placed her hands flat over his nipples. She began to rock her hips and once again her inner walls began to clench and release, milking him into another orgasm. She tumbled after him into mindless bliss.
He lifted to a sitting position and put his arms around her and together they moved, slowly, languidly; him inside her and her, in his lap, clasping and releasing his rapidly hardening length. He ran his tongue and his teeth up and down her neck, hovering for a moment to suck hard on the skin that covered her jugular, before continuing up into her hairline to nibble her ear and lick its shell.
She threw her head sideways, giggling. ‘Not the ear, Spike. I told you it’s too much.’
‘God, Slayer, you have the sweetest ears in all the world. I just want to stick my tongue in there and swirl it round till the bottoms of my feet burn out from the electricity you send crashing through me.’
She tipped her head back and took his lip between her teeth, sucking on it, running her tongue over his teeth, searching his mouth. He growled, low in his belly. She felt the rumble of it through his dick and up into the tip of her womb. She let his lip go, leaned her head back to stare up toward the concrete overhead.
‘Oh god,’ she whispered. Tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes.
‘Slayer, Buffy, the things you do to me. The things I want to do to you, with you. Buffy, I lo...’
She dived in and covered his mouth with hers before he could say it. Before she could hear what she knew he would say. It was lies. He couldn’t love her and how dare he remind her who, no what, he was, what she was fucking.
He took the action how it was meant, felt a momentary sadness well in his gut and then rolled them over so that his body covered hers. He began to fuck in her earnest. Hard, driving thrusts that brought grunts as he drove relentlessly into her body, splayed underneath him. Her legs once again circled him and she thrust her hips up to meet his every stroke.
...
‘Do you even like me?’ They’d fucked for hours and lay now, sated, for a time anyway.
He glanced toward the woman lying beside him, hoping to see something in her eyes that would let him know that she did care for him.
‘Sometimes.’ Her lips twitched ever so slightly into a tiny smile.
It was more than he thought he would get. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t naive. He might be love’s bitch but when it came to the slayer and her feelings, he knew he stood no chance really. He would take what he could get though. He thought she could learn to love him if she would just let herself go, listen to her inner thoughts. He held little hope of that happening.
‘I have to go.’ She slid out from under the rug they’d found themselves under and rose to her feet. He did the same, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
God. It was always the same. She came, she fucked, came for real and then she ran. He wanted more, so much more.
‘Yeah, ‘course. Can’t hang round the dead man’s house once you get what you came for.’
‘Sarcasm much? You’re such a pig, Spike. I have to get up in a few hours and get Dawn off to school. I hardly get to spend any time with her. Since Tara left, she’s been really down.’
Buffy was searching the room for her clothes as she said this and Spike heard the hurt and resignation in her voice. He sighed at his ability to say the wrong thing every time. If only he could stop and think, before he opened his gob. She was pulling her jeans on, her head down and he could smell her tears again.
‘Sorry love. Know you got responsibilities. I’m a bad, rude man.’
‘You’re not a man, Spike. You’re a vampire. I don’t expect you to understand being responsible for someone other than yourself.’ Anger replaced the almost tears. She turned to climb the ladder, pushing on the slab at the top and climbing through the opening.
He watched her climb, anger flaring in his chest, replacing the guilt that had risen from his previous selfish remark. He picked his jeans up from the foot of the ladder, grabbed the rungs and followed her into the room above.
‘Where are my shoes?’ Buffy looked through the gloom of the chamber to find the rest of her clothing.
‘Of course! How could I forget? I’m just a convenience.’ He snapped out as he too, began to dress, pulling his jeans on with a viscous tug. ‘The fact that I looked after Dru for more than a century means nothing.’
‘Looking after a deranged killer, you’re murderer, is not showing responsibility, Spike. I don’t know what you’d call it. Stocking syndrome or something, maybe.’ She pulled on her blouse. She’d come back for the bra. Or not.
‘I think you mean Stockholm, Slayer.’
‘What? I wasn’t referring to a city, Spike. I was referring to your lack of soul and state of life. You don’t know what it is like to have a little sister to care for, bills to pay, a crappy job that barely pays enough to cover groceries, let alone anything extra.’
‘I told you I could help you out with that. You don’t belong in that place. It’s wrong.’ He ground out between teeth clenched so tight, the muscles in his jaw ticked.
‘And I told you I am not accepting money from you. I’m not going to be an excuse for you to cheat, lie and steal.’ She found her shoes and slipped them on her feet.
‘I don’t have to cheat, lie or steal to get money. I said I wouldn’t. A man likes to take care of his girl. Why won’t you let me help you?’
With a sigh she finished buttoning her blouse and turned towards him. She looked directly into his eyes.
‘You are not a man. I am not your girl. I do not want your help.’
He opened his mouth to throw something back at her. But despair and hurt welled up and stole the words away. He looked at her, then sighed and threw his hands in the air.
‘Fine. I’ll shut my mouth and wait, like a good little vampire, until the next time you have an itch you want scratched, or something you want killed.’
The words brought the expected result as the slayer’s fist slammed into his nose, before she whirled and ran out the door, slamming it so hard the walls almost shook. He’d fallen back against the sarcophagus with the force of her blow.
He wiped his nose with his hand and then licked the blood from his fingers. Waste not want not his parents had always said. Or was it Angelus? That bastard’d certainly broken his nose, along with probably every other bone in his body, back in the day. His nose was broken now, so he placed his thumb and fingers in the required position and snapped the cartilage back into position, groaning at the pain and his stupidity.
Why the fuck couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Love’s bitch. More like love’s complete and total prat! Why, oh why did he have to fall for the slayer; bad enough a human, but the sodding slayer? She was right of course. He wasn’t a man. And, as she had so eloquently pointed out in her tirade that first night, he wasn’t a monster either. Not anymore. He’d been reduced to a half-life; a bloody outcast from his own kind and a long way from human.
He was damned, more than he ever had been as a vampire. He knew it, but there was nothing to be done about it. He loved the bint, loved her more than his own existence. He would keep trying to be what she needed. For her. He had to, it was all he knew.
...
Author: comlodge
Characters: Spike/Buffy
Art: comlodge
Rating: NC17 - Explicit Sex
Words: 2,425
Prompt: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif){kind=small}
tamingthemuse prompt 350 Sarcasm
Summary: Set in S6 BTVS Spike and Buffy get it on. Sex and angst.
Disclaimer: Not my characters. They all belong to Joss. He is very nice about sharing.
The door to his crypt slammed open and he barely had the chance to stand up from the armchair he’d been dozing in, before she was on him, smashing her lips against his and pulling his t-shirt up and over his head. She stepped back as she threw his shirt on the ground beside the chair and finished unbuttoning her own blouse, which she had obviously started on before she’d kicked his door open.
His Slayer was hot to trot tonight. Just the way he liked her. He watched the blouse slide down her arms to join his shirt on the floor. She stepped close to him and reached up to take his lips again. He leaned into her, put his arms around her and unfastened her bra.
He felt her hands tugging at his belt so he followed suit and did the same for her. Each unbuckled the other’s belt, slid open zips and reached in to run fingers, either into dark, moist recesses or along a rapidly stiffening length.
‘Downstairs,’ she murmured, letting go his cock and winding her arms around his neck, as she met his lips with hers.
Without letting go her mouth, he pulled his fingers from their wet prize, put both hands under her still covered ass and picked her up. He started towards the opening to his bedroom below, still kissing her, sucking and chewing her tongue as they opened their mouths to each other. She kicked her shoes off as they went and wrapped her legs around his torso.
He used his bare foot to shove aside the slab and uncover the hole that opened to the lower level. He dropped them through the half opened gap in the floor and landed softly at the foot of the ladder, still clasping her in his arms. He felt her wetness coming through her panties onto his abdomen. She felt the head of his freed, hard length trapped between them. She broke the kiss to draw a breath.
‘Shut it,’ she ordered as she looked up toward the hole they had come through. She released her legs from around his hips.
He let her slide to her feet before he turned and jumped to the top of the ladder, and slid the slab back into place. He heard her shimmy out of her slacks behind him. She reached up to tug on the bottom of his jeans legs as he descended. He paused to lift first one leg than the other, from the treads, allowing her to pull his opened jeans free. Naked, he turned and dropped to the floor in front of her, his hard shaft bouncing against his bare belly. His arms circled her body as he lifted her to reclaim her lips.
She threw an arm around his neck, pushed off from the floor as he lifted her and brought her legs around his body once more. Reaching down between them with her other hand, she guided his cock into her body. She was already soaking and his length slid home until wiry curls met wiry curls. He ground his pubic bone into hers. She clenched him hard and bit his lip eliciting a heartfelt groan from him, as sensations of utter pleasure rippled through his body. Hot, wet, slayer squeezing the life from him. As close to heaven as he was ever likely to get.
She let his lips go and he swung them round so that her back was to the wall and he was in a position to direct his thrusts with better effect. Now she groaned at the sensations welling in her core, as his penis penetrated further, higher, and deeper until it rubbed against that place deep inside that took her to a new level. Every upward stroke ground her clitoris with his pubic bone, and drove the tip of his length into that glorious spot within.
She leaned her shoulders back against the wall and drove her body down to meet his upward thrusts, her pussy gripping and releasing his cock, with muscles honed by exercise and endowed with slayer strength. Neither held back at all, as they each sort their release; two supernatural creatures coupling with a ferocity that would break an ordinary human.
Her body, slick with sweat, slid up and down his smooth satiny abdomen as his buttocks clenched and unclenched and the muscles of his legs stood out in sharp relief as they pistoned him further into her, over and over. Eyes shut, fully enveloped in an animal lust, they were both lost to the driving need of their bodies, as they moved groin to groin. They were sex, they were creation, they were life exploding.
Her orgasm, when it came, shuddered and spiralled through her, her whole body shaking as his climax shot thick, heavy threads into her open womb. His body shook, legs trembled with the force of his release and he felt the thump of a heart beat in his chest. He could feel her heart racing wildly as she came. He smelt her juices flooding from her body, felt them drip down his thighs.
He brought his head forward and down to mouth and suck on her breasts as he continued to ejaculate inside his slayer. Drawing first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, he sucked and bit each in turn, hard enough to hurt a little. Her orgasm drew out, on the pain of his bites and his continued thrusting and then rose again with an even greater intensity as he once again began to pound into her.
He revelled in his ability to please her, to make her body sing. He loved how her body responded to his. She made him come like he never had before. Made him feel his release deep inside where William still ruled. He adored her, worshipped her, and loved her. Loved her light, her goodness, loved the things that made her Buffy. He loved the Slayer too.
She brought her head forward and bit his ear, hard. He raised his head, tilted it back and took her mouth with his. They toppled backwards as she leant into his kiss with all her weight. Tongues wrestled for dominance before she rose up, still impaled and placed her hands flat over his nipples. She began to rock her hips and once again her inner walls began to clench and release, milking him into another orgasm. She tumbled after him into mindless bliss.
He lifted to a sitting position and put his arms around her and together they moved, slowly, languidly; him inside her and her, in his lap, clasping and releasing his rapidly hardening length. He ran his tongue and his teeth up and down her neck, hovering for a moment to suck hard on the skin that covered her jugular, before continuing up into her hairline to nibble her ear and lick its shell.
She threw her head sideways, giggling. ‘Not the ear, Spike. I told you it’s too much.’
‘God, Slayer, you have the sweetest ears in all the world. I just want to stick my tongue in there and swirl it round till the bottoms of my feet burn out from the electricity you send crashing through me.’
She tipped her head back and took his lip between her teeth, sucking on it, running her tongue over his teeth, searching his mouth. He growled, low in his belly. She felt the rumble of it through his dick and up into the tip of her womb. She let his lip go, leaned her head back to stare up toward the concrete overhead.
‘Oh god,’ she whispered. Tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes.
‘Slayer, Buffy, the things you do to me. The things I want to do to you, with you. Buffy, I lo...’
She dived in and covered his mouth with hers before he could say it. Before she could hear what she knew he would say. It was lies. He couldn’t love her and how dare he remind her who, no what, he was, what she was fucking.
He took the action how it was meant, felt a momentary sadness well in his gut and then rolled them over so that his body covered hers. He began to fuck in her earnest. Hard, driving thrusts that brought grunts as he drove relentlessly into her body, splayed underneath him. Her legs once again circled him and she thrust her hips up to meet his every stroke.
...
‘Do you even like me?’ They’d fucked for hours and lay now, sated, for a time anyway.
He glanced toward the woman lying beside him, hoping to see something in her eyes that would let him know that she did care for him.
‘Sometimes.’ Her lips twitched ever so slightly into a tiny smile.
It was more than he thought he would get. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t naive. He might be love’s bitch but when it came to the slayer and her feelings, he knew he stood no chance really. He would take what he could get though. He thought she could learn to love him if she would just let herself go, listen to her inner thoughts. He held little hope of that happening.
‘I have to go.’ She slid out from under the rug they’d found themselves under and rose to her feet. He did the same, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
God. It was always the same. She came, she fucked, came for real and then she ran. He wanted more, so much more.
‘Yeah, ‘course. Can’t hang round the dead man’s house once you get what you came for.’
‘Sarcasm much? You’re such a pig, Spike. I have to get up in a few hours and get Dawn off to school. I hardly get to spend any time with her. Since Tara left, she’s been really down.’
Buffy was searching the room for her clothes as she said this and Spike heard the hurt and resignation in her voice. He sighed at his ability to say the wrong thing every time. If only he could stop and think, before he opened his gob. She was pulling her jeans on, her head down and he could smell her tears again.
‘Sorry love. Know you got responsibilities. I’m a bad, rude man.’
‘You’re not a man, Spike. You’re a vampire. I don’t expect you to understand being responsible for someone other than yourself.’ Anger replaced the almost tears. She turned to climb the ladder, pushing on the slab at the top and climbing through the opening.
He watched her climb, anger flaring in his chest, replacing the guilt that had risen from his previous selfish remark. He picked his jeans up from the foot of the ladder, grabbed the rungs and followed her into the room above.
‘Where are my shoes?’ Buffy looked through the gloom of the chamber to find the rest of her clothing.
‘Of course! How could I forget? I’m just a convenience.’ He snapped out as he too, began to dress, pulling his jeans on with a viscous tug. ‘The fact that I looked after Dru for more than a century means nothing.’
‘Looking after a deranged killer, you’re murderer, is not showing responsibility, Spike. I don’t know what you’d call it. Stocking syndrome or something, maybe.’ She pulled on her blouse. She’d come back for the bra. Or not.
‘I think you mean Stockholm, Slayer.’
‘What? I wasn’t referring to a city, Spike. I was referring to your lack of soul and state of life. You don’t know what it is like to have a little sister to care for, bills to pay, a crappy job that barely pays enough to cover groceries, let alone anything extra.’
‘I told you I could help you out with that. You don’t belong in that place. It’s wrong.’ He ground out between teeth clenched so tight, the muscles in his jaw ticked.
‘And I told you I am not accepting money from you. I’m not going to be an excuse for you to cheat, lie and steal.’ She found her shoes and slipped them on her feet.
‘I don’t have to cheat, lie or steal to get money. I said I wouldn’t. A man likes to take care of his girl. Why won’t you let me help you?’
With a sigh she finished buttoning her blouse and turned towards him. She looked directly into his eyes.
‘You are not a man. I am not your girl. I do not want your help.’
He opened his mouth to throw something back at her. But despair and hurt welled up and stole the words away. He looked at her, then sighed and threw his hands in the air.
‘Fine. I’ll shut my mouth and wait, like a good little vampire, until the next time you have an itch you want scratched, or something you want killed.’
The words brought the expected result as the slayer’s fist slammed into his nose, before she whirled and ran out the door, slamming it so hard the walls almost shook. He’d fallen back against the sarcophagus with the force of her blow.
He wiped his nose with his hand and then licked the blood from his fingers. Waste not want not his parents had always said. Or was it Angelus? That bastard’d certainly broken his nose, along with probably every other bone in his body, back in the day. His nose was broken now, so he placed his thumb and fingers in the required position and snapped the cartilage back into position, groaning at the pain and his stupidity.
Why the fuck couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Love’s bitch. More like love’s complete and total prat! Why, oh why did he have to fall for the slayer; bad enough a human, but the sodding slayer? She was right of course. He wasn’t a man. And, as she had so eloquently pointed out in her tirade that first night, he wasn’t a monster either. Not anymore. He’d been reduced to a half-life; a bloody outcast from his own kind and a long way from human.
He was damned, more than he ever had been as a vampire. He knew it, but there was nothing to be done about it. He loved the bint, loved her more than his own existence. He would keep trying to be what she needed. For her. He had to, it was all he knew.
...
