"I think we should ask Spike for his help, Buffy."
Giles had shocked the living hell out of her when he said that. Her first reaction was to laugh, but the look on the Watcher's face told her he wasn't kidding. Then came the inevitable argument, which she lost. Badly. Of course he was right; there simply wasn't anyone else strong enough. She had finally relented, and agreed to approach the vampire.
And thus it was that the Slayer found herself in front of Spike's crypt, preparing for her most difficult trial since she had been called 5 years prior. She was going to have to be nice to Spike. Not just be nice, but ask for his help, which also meant apologizing for her treatment of him, if his outburst the previous night was any indication.
She lifted her foot to kick in the door, then stopped herself. Can't kick his door in if I'm making nice, she reminded herself. Instead, she did something she had never done before. She knocked on Spike's door. When she didn't get an answer, she tried again. After waiting for a while, she opened the door carefully, and entered the crypt.
"Spike?" She called softly. "Spike? Are you here?" There was no response.
'He could still be sleeping,' she reasoned. The sun hadn't yet set, and he was, after all, a creature of the night. So she headed down the ladder to the lower level.
He watched as Buffy panted, trying to catch her breath as the dust of the last vamp settled to the ground.
"Well done, Slayer," he said, emerging from the shadows of the alley behind the Bronze.
The Slayer's eyes narrowed. "Spike," she spat his name out like an epithet.
"Nice to see you too," he drawled, leering at her. The glaze of sweat from the fight made her flirty red dress cling to her like a second skin. He didn't have much time to appreciate the view before she lunged at him, stake in hand. And thus their dance began.
He could feel himself harden to a painful degree as they traded blows. Equally matched, the fight went on and on, neither seemingly able to gain the advantage. Then, in what could only be described as luck, Spike flung her into the wall, face first, and followed closely, using his body to pin hers to the wall. He grabbed her by the wrists, holding them over her head against the brick. Grinding his cock into her ass, he lowered his fangs to her throat, ready to take the life of his third Slayer when the unmistakable aroma of her arousal hit him.
"Spike," his name escaped her lips in a breathy moan as she pushed back against him.
The vampire knew that he should kill her, knew he should take her life. But in the instant she moaned his name, something shifted within him. Using one hand to keep her wrists above her head, he reached down and freed his aching erection from his jeans. He pulled her dress up, exposing her pert buttocks. He ripped the lacy thong from her body, and, gripping his cock, he aligned himself with her soaking entrance.
"Please..." Her voice left no question in his mind, and with one smooth stroke he plunged into her molten core. He roared as her searing heat gripped him, and began thrusting at a frantic, bruising pace. Her incoherent cries echoed all around him, spurring him on. Using his free hand he gripped her hair, pulling her head to one side roughly, and plunged his fangs into her neck.
The second her hot blood filled his mouth, he felt his sac begin to tighten. Pulling away from her neck, he drove himself into her with a force that would have shattered the bones of a normal girl, and erupted violently within her, moaning her name as the Slayer's own climax overtook her.
The sight that awaited her took her breath away. Spike was lying on his side, his back to her. Nude. Without a blanket. The few candles scattered about cast just enough light for her to see him. She licked her lips as she took in his muscular shoulders, and let her eyes continue their journey down his back to his... oh my God! Spike ass! Ass of Spike! She gulped. It was perfect. Buffy wondered how she had never noticed how hot he was. No, stupid, her inner voice chided. You have noticed, you just haven't admitted it!
She stood gaping for who knows how long when he stirred. She turned away to hide, but he just rolled onto his back, still sleeping. Letting out the breath she was holding she looked again. And gasped, audibly. While his perfect chest and chiseled abs were droolworthy, what had caught her attention was his erection, standing proud at attention. It was big. Bigger than Riley, and Parker too. She felt herself flood with moisture, transfixed by the sight.
She choked. He had said her name! Spike was dreaming about her! That meant... that meant that his hard on was for her. The idea aroused her. A lot.
Spike awoke slowly to the sound of a fast pounding heartbeat. Then the scent of arousal hit him. Buffy's arousal. He opened his eyes a crack, and could see her leaning against the ladder, staring at him, or, more accurately, at his cock.
"Like what you see, luv?" he asked casually.
She was completely, utterly, and totally busted. Feeling herself flush with complete embarrassment at the knowing smirk on his face, she opened her mouth to speak, but only a strangled moan came out. She tried again to speak, but couldn't. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she started up the ladder, and ran away as fast as she possibly could.
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