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Free Cable? by BloodEnvy
 
Play the Game
 
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CHAPTER NINE

Giggling, the two blondes rolled onto the carpet, Spike landing on his back while Buffy landed straddling his hips. His hands automatically rose in defense before he faltered, watching the girl atop of him. She was kneeling over him, her hands resting lightly on his hips between her legs. She sat there, giggling, the sound and movement sending vibrations through her body and against his crotch.

So he couldn’t really be held responsible for what he did next.

Spike grabbed Buffy by the arms and flipped their positions, effectively pinning her with the weight of his body. Forcing her hands above her head, he cut off her shout of surprise by crushing his lips to hers with bruising force.

Pushing his tongue into her mouth, he kept one hand clasped around her wrists while the other ran down her body, tweaked a nipple through her shirt, and down her thigh. Hooking her knee around his waist, he pulled open her pants, ruining the second pair in two days, and unbuckled his belt.

Without hesitation, Spike unzipped his jeans and plunged himself into her centre with a shout, one echoed by the girl beneath him. He surged within her, hitting her core with every downward stroke, each upward stroke sliding against her clit.

Buffy moaned throatily, pushing her hips up to slam against his. She was already so close to release. How did he do that?

Spike tore away from her mouth and leered down at her through his game face, pulled his belt from his jeans and secured her hands together tightly, muffling her half-hearted protest with another kiss. Ripping her shirt open, he dragged his mouth down her cheek and neck to graze fangs against her pulse point.

Feeling Buffy squirm instinctively away from pointed teeth, he kissed her neck softy, tenderly.

Lovingly.

“Don’t worry pet, not gonna hurt you.” He slid a fang over the soft flesh of her neck and groaned as the sweet smell of the blood filled his nose. “Just gonna have a little taste.”

Sucking hard on her pulse point a moment longer, Spike lowered his mouth to her cleavage and sunk his fangs into the front of her bra, tearing it open. He ran a calloused thumb over her left nipple, teasing the rosy bud into a hard nub, pinching it hard. He kissed softly down her cleavage and up over her right breast. Flicking a tongue over her nipple, he sank his teeth into her breast just as he sunk his cock to the hilt within her.

Spike drank deep as he felt her push against him, not only pushing her hips up, but her breast too, sinking his fangs deeper into her soft flesh. Thrusting faster and harder than before, he rumbled deep in his throat. The girl had been wasted on Angel. The poof hadn’t known how to touch her, how to fuck her… how to love her.

What? Spike’s mind yelled, his thrusts faltering. Love her? He didn’t… he couldn’t… could he? Did he, William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, love her?

“Oh, God, Spike! I’m gonna….!” Buffy’s cry brought Spike’s attention back to her, startling him out of his thoughts. Her inner walls clenched and constricted tightly around his cock, and he couldn’t help the strangled moan he let loose. “I’m gonna…”

Spike didn’t stop his movements as Buffy yelled her release, pounding harder than before, drinking deeper. Buffy’s half-formed words and cries drifted into moans as Spike felt her heat beat begin to slow. Without pause, Spike withdrew his teeth and kissed the wound, lathing his tongue over the injury to stem the blood. His attention continued over her nipple as his fingers traveled down to tweak her clit, still pumping hard and fast within her.

As Buffy rode out the last exquisite wave of her orgasm she struggled against the belt that still secured her hands together. She wanted to touch him, to have all of him. She wanted to run her hands over his chest… clutch at his arms… run her fingers over his hips, his thighs, his hardened cock. She groaned loudly in frustration, and Spike’s head came away from her breast to look questioningly at her.

Seeing her pull again at her bindings, Spike’s face broke out in a savage, self-satisfied leer.

“Uh, uh, uh, pet.” He taunted, sliding out of her completely. She moaned loudly at the sudden emptiness, pushing her hips up against his, trying to force him back inside her. Spike pushed her hips down, slamming her butt flat against the carpet. He smirked down at her, his thumb slowly circling her clit. “Right now is about my fun. You just lie there like a good little Slyer and keep quiet.”

Truth was, Spike loved the way Buffy moved, he loved the way she curved responsively against him, the wanton grimaces and wide-open eyes. He loved… her?

He needed to prove to himself that this was just about the sex. He wasn’t her lap dog. He was William the Bloody. Growling, Spike took hold of her jeans in both hands and pulled, the denim tearing apart. Pulling them off her legs with two quick jerks, he stared down at her naked form, momentarily caught up in the sight.

God, she was beautiful.

“But—“ Buffy started, cutting herself off as Spike’s scarred brow cocked questioningly, almost threateningly at her. Her inner-slut couldn’t help but get excited, the cruel edge of his glare promising the same kind of violence, pain and pleasure of their first night together, in the bar.

“What? Are you arguing with me, love?” He flipped her onto her stomach, one hand holding her belted hands above her head, the over tracing a line up her crack, coating it in her own cum. “That’s not how we play the game.”

Taking hold of her hips and pulling her up to a kneel; Spike speared himself into her ass, all the way. Buffy screamed out loud, halfway between pain and joy, the tight burn of him filling her so completely exciting her even more than before.

Spike didn’t stop or slow, he hammered in and out of her ass as she rocked back and forth on her knees, slamming back to meet his hips as he pushed in. God, it was so tight. So hot, and tight and God…
The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the air, joined by Buffy’s moans and throaty screams, Spike’s groans and shouts. His body hit her clit with each surge forward, coating both her burning quim and his balls in her juices.

Feeling his balls tighten and Buffy’s movements grow more erratic- she was close too- he pushed harder into her, driving in to the hilt.
“Oh, God! Spi—“ Buffy cried out, drawing out his name in a wail.
Spike let his vampire out at that moment, felt his face morph and his fangs elongate. He leaned over her, hands possessively tight on her hips.

“You’re mine, Buffy.” He whispered in her ear, before he sunk his fangs deep into her shoulder and followed her into oblivion.
 
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