There had been no sound from the room across the hall.

Buffy yawned and knuckled the sleep from her eyes as she sat up. "Nightfall?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here, luv."

"How are you feeling?"

Spike stretched carefully, wincing at the pulling of his back muscles. "Nearly healed."

"I still can't believe you let him do that to you." Shaking her head in disgust, Buffy rose from the bed and headed for the en suite bathroom. "Let me powder my nose and then we'll head out of here. I'm starving."

"Me too."

Buffy frowned at that casual comment and closed the bathroom door behind her.

A few minutes later, refreshed, and her tangled hair smoothed down as much as possible, she emerged to find Spike waiting at the door, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet in his eagerness to escape. Wrapping her arm around his, she let him lead her silently out of the room, down the stairs and into the night. They began the two mile walk to her house.

"My mom must be going nuts," Buffy groaned as it fully sank in that she had been incommunicado since the middle of the previous night.

"You could tell her Slayer stuff."

"I'm supposed to check in. And I'm sure Giles has already informed her that I wasn't doing anything Slayery."

"We could tell her the truth."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, that'll go over well. *I* still don't fully understand what happened. How is my innocent mom supposed to?"

Spike chuckled. "Your mum isn't all that innocent, luv."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. She actually likes you," Buffy teased in response.

"I'm very likeable," he huffed. "She has good taste. Like her daughter."

"Yeah, so, we never did get to that discussion of what kind of thing we have here. Are we dating?"

Spike groaned and tried to speed up their progress.

"I'm serious."

"Why do women have to define everything? Can't you just be happy that we're shagging each other left and right and not trying to kill each other?"

"No."

"But, that *is* what we're doing."

Buffy sighed and tightened her hand in his. "Part of it, but a relationship is more than that."

"Why?"

She laughed at the petulant tone of his question. "You are such a man."

Stopping for a stop light, Spike turned and waggled his eyebrows at her, then kissed her breathless. "And you *like* me being a man, luv."

"Well...yeah..." She grinned up at him, then tugged him across the street against the light.

"Oy, lawbreaker!"

"You are so incredibly silly sometimes."

"We all can't be eternally broody."

"Please, no Angel references when we're having a serious discussion."

"I just survived my sire's punishment, can't we put off the serious stuff?" he whined.

With another sigh, Buffy conceded. "Okay, for one night. Tomorrow, we go out for dinner. Someplace nice, not McDonalds, and you pay." She ran her eyes over him. "Do you still have that suit?"

"I have several suits."

"Good. Dress up."

"How come you get to make all the decisions?"

"Because you don't want to talk about it, remember?"

"But, you're going to make me talk about it."

Buffy grinned. "Yep."

"Remind me to buy a copy of that poofy Mars and Venus book," Spike muttered. "Because you make no sense."

"Oh, yeah, and what you did last night made *so* much sense."

Bickering, they continued down the deserted street.

The house was lit up, and the porch light was on. Buffy groaned in anticipation of the lecture and opened the front door, pulling Spike in with her.

Her mom came barreling in from the kitchen. "Where have you been? I've been panicked since Mr. Giles called and told me you hadn't shown up for training."

"I'm sorry," Buffy began. "I got stuck at Angel's dealing with this whole mess and then we kind of fell asleep."

"Haven't you heard of picking up a phone?"

"He doesn't have one."

Joyce's righteous indignation deflated and she rolled her eyes. "Isn't it about time he entered the twentieth century?"

"Poof never did like modern conveniences," Spike snorted.

"I take it that you all worked everything out?" Joyce glanced pointedly at their joined hands.

"Yeah," Buffy replied. "Angel's given in."

"Until the next time," Spike muttered.

"And you've been alone with two men all day?" Joyce addressed that to her daughter, who blushed.

"Well, um..."

"Believe me, Joyce, there was nothing romantic about the whole business. We just got trapped by the sun."

"Spike, Buffy isn't allergic to the sun."

Spike squirmed. "She didn't want to leave me alone with my psychotic sire."

"Psychotic?" A maternal eyebrow arched. "No, I don't want to know. You're both alive and well and that's all that matters."

"So, am I grounded?" Buffy hesitantly asked.

"Would it do me any good?"

"Um..."

"Didn't think so." Joyce turned and headed for the kitchen, throwing over her shoulder, "You both must be hungry. I have left over Chinese and a bottle of cow's blood."

"I hope she doesn't mean mixed together," Buffy whispered with a giggle.

Spike swatted her rear end as she preceded him down the hall.

While Joyce scooped heaping servings of sesame chicken and sweet and sour pork onto plates, Buffy opened the fridge and took out a diet coke and a bottle of blood.

"Um, mom, why do you have blood in the fridge?"

"Well, you're dating a vampire."

"You never kept blood for Angel."

Joyce busied herself with setting the microwave controls. "Well, um..."

Spike hid his grin behind his hand and held in the comment that Joyce liked him where she had never liked the poof all that much.

Shaking her head, Buffy poured the blood into a mug and set it next to the microwave, then climbed onto the stool next to her whatever he was.

"Mom thinks we're dating," she proclaimed, watching with some glee as Spike squirmed on his stool.

"You better be dating now that there are no obstacles, if you want to keep doing what you were doing last night which I really don't want to hear about again."

Dropping her eyes, Buffy reddened. "Yes, mother."

"I've been traumatized enough for two mothers." Smiling, Joyce plunked a plate down in front of her daughter, then stuck the mug in the microwave. "I'll just leave you two alone to eat while I go call Mr. Giles then watch the Antiques Roadshow."

Her stomach rumbling, Buffy stuck a bite of chicken in her mouth as the microwave dinged. Spike removed his blood, then put the other plate in the machine.

"How come you eat food?"

He shrugged. "Just like it."

"Angel doesn't. I mean, he has the occasional cup of coffee, but I've never seen him eat food."

"It's that monk's life thing he's got going. Denial of the pleasures of life."

"But you don't need food to survive."

Leaning against the sink, Spike took a sip of the blood and felt it warm his cold body. "Don't need sex either, Slayer, but you may have noticed that I rather enjoy it."

She grinned and ate another bite. "You gonna be healed enough when I'm out patrolling tonight? Because you may have noticed that I was totally unselfish this afternoon."

He grinned back. "Like I can't smell your arousal from a mile away, babe."

Buffy turned bright red and dug into her food, as Spike joined her with his own plate.

An hour later, they stood on the porch, gazing into each other's eyes. Spike leaned down and tenderly kissed Buffy.

"I have to go check in with my clan, make sure it's still in one piece and that Angel has done what he said he would."

"See, I'm a bit confused on that. If the vampires here don't know you're shagging the Slayer, why did you feel the need for Angel to punish you?"

"Ingrained, luv. I couldn't help it. But, the actual transgression doesn't need to be revealed, just the fact that I submitted for punishment like a good childe."

"I'll never understand it," Buffy replied, reluctantly pulling away from him. "Well, I have an hour or so before I need to patrol. Time to take a shower, change clothes."

"You'll wash away your lovely arousal," Spike pouted.

Buffy grinned back. "No chance of that. Meet me in Peaceful Grove at eleven?"

Spike flipped her a cocky grin. "With bells on. Or maybe that's balls."

"Pervert." Laughing, she danced into the house.

Shaking his head at the amazing ease they were suddenly at with each other, Spike headed down the sidewalk towards home.

"Are you happy, honey?" Joyce asked from Buffy's doorway as her daughter brushed her newly dried hair.

Buffy glanced her mom's direction, then slipped a tank top on over her lacy black bra, admitting, a bit amazed, "Yeah, I am."

"Spike makes you happy?"

"At the moment."

"Do you love him?"

"Mom," Buffy protested, sitting on her bed and pulling on a boot.

"I think it's a logical question. You came in holding hands. You were both teasing each other all evening, more at ease than I've ever seen you with a boy."

"Spike's not a boy."

"Man," Joyce corrected. "He couldn't quit smiling at you."

"He's happy that I've accepted that there's something between us."

"And that would be..."

"Mom, you'll be the first to know when I figure it out." Dressed in a pair of jeans, a grey tank top, and her boots, Buffy pulled her hair into a ponytail, then grabbed her slaying bag.

"Try to come home tonight," Joyce sighed, brushing a kiss over her daughter's cheek as Buffy passed her.

"I will. Don't wait up." Buffy trotted down the stairs.

"I can't help it," Joyce murmured to the empty hallway.

Spike flicked away his cigarette as he strolled into his lair. He nodded to the guards at the inner doors and entered the main room. Vampires were lounging around, eating, reading, watching tv, chatting. The integration of his clan with the former Clan Nicolai seemed to be progressing nicely. Several of the females had discarded the filmy, lacy things their former master had made them wear for jeans and t-shirts.

There was no sign of either of Nicolai's childer, but he could smell them in two of the distant rooms and could hear the rattle of chains.

Daria approached him, a satisfied smile on her face. "Master, welcome home."

"Everything under control here?"

She nodded, sweeping her eyes around the room. "No problems to speak of. The new whore is in one of the back rooms ready for your use, and my new plaything is breaking nicely."

Spike smirked. "I can hear him whimpering. What about these other females? Can they be trained to fight?"

"It's instinctive to fight." Daria snorted lightly. "Such a waste to have that beaten out of them, but I'm hoping everything will come back to them quickly. Simeon didn't seem to be very strong to begin with. I don't think he'll be much problem, but, if you wish, I'll keep him on a short leash. Once I unchain him from my bed, that is."

"What about the female childe?"

Daria's smile faded and she dropped her eyes. "I think she will be obedient to you, but she ruled the females of her clan with the iron fist in a velvet glove of a childe, and I can't compare to that."

"Yeah, I think it's time we did something about that." At her puzzled look, he nodded towards his room. "Wait for me in there."

As Daria nodded and headed for his room, Spike moved amongst his clan, listening more than speaking, making mental notes of the interactions. He noticed with approval that Buzz was watching the six new males like a hawk. They were still chained, but two of them were sitting on the couch with two of his females, watching baseball and talking in low voices.

He'd have to get their sworn oaths before he headed out to meet Buffy.

"Master Spike," Buzz called out as he approached. "Everything's going smoothly. You want we should take the newbies hunting?"

"Hold off for another hour or so. We need to get them to swear their allegiance to me and I have a few things to do first."

"I'll get your throne ready." Buzz grinned toothily and loped off to do that.

Rolling his eyes at the sight of a creaky old office chair

being draped in velvet rags, Spike headed for the hallway that led to the smaller rooms--offices that had become bedrooms. Opening one of the doors, he stepped inside and ran his eyes over the nude woman chained on her back to the bed.

Bruises marred her pale skin, the marks darker on her full breasts and curvaceous hips. Even damaged, Zaneta was voluptuous and beautiful.

And she did absolutely nothing for him.

"Master?" Zaneta whispered, tears sparkling in her slightly slanted eyes.

Spike stopped next to the bed and stared down into her face. Buried beneath the pain and the fear, the sorrow and even a bit of hope, was a tiny flair of anger. He knew it was perfectly natural and, actually, he was surprised her anger wasn't greater.

Surprised and relieved.

"You've been head female for a long time."

It wasn't a question, but she answered him anyway. "Yes."

"You aren't anymore."

"I understand," she murmured, trembling as her fear made itself apparent.

"Do you?" Spike murmured in reply, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. "I have no childer of my own. None of those out there are more than minions, though a few of them show more initiative and intelligence than you usually see in a minion. The demon inside you will want to take charge. I can't allow that, Zaneta. You get to live, but I don't trust you."

"I will do anything you wish, master."

"Yeah, I know you will. Very smart of you. I can't take away your status of childe, but, you'll never be head female. You will be the lowest of the low, answerable to every vampire under me, until I am satisfied that your demon is beaten into complete submission."

"Please master, I have sworn allegiance to you. I will do so gladly in any ceremony you wish, but please don't do this to me. The females from my clan, they will turn on me."

"Probably, but they won't kill you, and you have my permission to defend yourself, but if they order you to do something, you will do it and do it gladly, understood?"

A tear leaking down one porcelain cheek, Zaneta nodded in resigned sorrow.

Spike rose. "In one hour, you will be brought before me for your oath. If all goes well, you'll be unchained and free to integrate yourself into the clan. Don't even think about challenging anyone until I give you permission. Stay quiet, unobtrusive and obedient."

Heading for the door, he turned back and gave her a cocky look. "Play the game, Zaneta, and you'll get to live."

Spike closed the door behind him and walked towards his own room, wondering again why he was leaving the female alive. The male childe, Simeon, would be crushed until all he was good for was fighting and being fucked, but Spike didn't want the female broken that way. An intelligent female was much too valuable to waste.

And he had two with more smarts and wits than all of the males in his expanding clan combined.

He hoped that meant he was lucky.

Opening the door to his room, he found Daria sitting on the edge of a chair, her back straight, a look of apprehensive curiosity on her face.

"I've had a little talk with Zaneta, but, even though she seems honestly willing to obey, she will only naturally obey me."

"And Simeon," Daria pointed out.

Spike snorted at that. "I have full faith in your abilities to break him into a puddle of goo and rebuild him into a obedient brute." She smiled in pleasure at his compliment, and he took the seat across from her. "But, you're right that you're not strong enough to compete with a female childe with her full faculties. I'm going to remedy that." As he spoke, he shrugged out of his duster, noticing that it no longer pained him to roll his shoulders, and began to roll up his shirt sleeves.

"How?"

"I'm going to make you my symbolic childe."

Her eyes widened and she whispered, "Can you do that?"

Nodding, Spike reached out for her hand and tugged her onto her feet, then down on his lap. He brushed her hair from her neck and she curled into him. "It won't be quite the same, but we'll share blood. Luckily you seem to have retained most of your intelligence and wit. I figure your former master gave you more of his blood than in a normal turning. This will simply give you more strength and confidence, and the bond between sire and childe."

"How?"

"The same way any vampire is made." Shifting to his demon, Spike bit into the soft flesh of her throat, and as her cool blood filled his mouth, her moans of pain and pleasure filled his ears.

An hour later, Spike sat on his throne. He'd showered and changed into black leather pants and a black silk shirt, and looked every inch the master vampire. He took the oaths of the minions, both males and females, then had Buzz bring Zaneta out.

She was still naked, her eyes downcast, a chain around her neck leading her into the main room. Spike could smell instant arousal from several of the males and a few of the females, and smirked as Buzz shoved the female to her knees.

Using one booted foot, Spike raised her chin and read the combination of resignation and deference in her eyes. As Buzz spoke the ancient words of binding an outsider to a clan, Spike never shifted his gaze from hers. When Zaneta spoke her vows, he read the truth in those green orbs and nodded.

"Unchain her, Buzz." As his second in command moved to obey, Spike looked over the crowd. "From this moment on, Zaneta, childe of Nicolai, is given the status of fledgling, the lowest of the low, with no permission to challenge for a raise in status until I say otherwise. Any signs of disobedience will be brought to Buzz who will bring them to me and punishment will be swift. There is to be no killing or permanent injury, but, otherwise, she is the clan's to do with as it pleases."

Not allowed to get to her feet, Zaneta was grabbed by two males and pulled into a corner of the room. Spike caught a glimpse of both of the males unzipping their jeans, but noticed that they continued to watch the proceedings in the center of the room, even while one of them thrust his cock down the female's throat.

Nodding in satisfaction, Spike turned his attention towards his room and watched the door open. After showering and dressing, he'd had Simeon brought in, and had been pleased by the condition of the male childe. He had immediately dropped to his knees and smothered Spike's boots with kisses.

Now, Daria, resplendent in a royal blue velvet dress that fell to mid calf revealing only a hint of pale skin over her short black boots, emerged from the room. Her head held high, her blonde hair flowing in curls to her waist, she dragged a crawling Simeon behind her on a leash, the choke collar studded with spikes digging into his neck and sending rivulets of blood down his chest and back.

Several of his clan recognized the changes in her and gasped. A low mutter filled the room as she came to a stop before the throne. One graceful hand fell on Simeon's head and she petted him lightly.

"Childe," Spike said, smiling in pleasure at the power he felt coming from her. After the sharing of blood, she had slept, only awakening to receive his instructions. Still groggy and adjusting to the changes in her body, she hadn't radiated anything but confusion.

Now, she was glorious, and he was immensely proud of her as she answered with relish, "Sire."

The gasps grew.

"Let it be known that Daria is now the childe of my blood, fifth in line to the lordship of Clan Aurelius, abeyant now for nearly a year, and first in line to the lordship of Clan William." A glance at Buzz showed Spike that he appeared complacent with the usurping of his titular position. He was still his second in running the clan overall, and that apparently was enough for him. Spike continued, "Daria is head female, answerable only to me. She will, of course, welcome challenges, but I firmly believe that her position is unassailable. She has my trust, my confidence, and my ear. Buzz will continue to handle the mundane issues of the clan- -food, entertainment, minor disagreements--but you may go to Daria with needs and problems as well. In that, they are equals."

He ran his eyes over the members of his clan and saw the general acceptance of his mandates. A discreet glance at his watch showed him that it was after ten. "Anything else?"

"My lord," Buzz began, scuffling his feet, "Micky, Jolynn and Aaron heard a rumor that you had turned yourself over to your sire for punishment, is this true?"

Spike nodded thoughtfully, internally smiling at the speed of rumors throughout the demonic community. "Yes. I won't go into details, but my sire deemed that I had transgressed, and I followed our ancient traditions in going to him for punishment."

"But, your sire is a renegade," a female spoke, ducking her head as he turned his attention on her.

"Angelus is still the nominal heir of Clan Aurelius and still my sire, regardless of his status."

"We wouldn't have thought any less of you, if you had refused his demands, sire," Daria said.

Spike smiled. "There are certain traditions even I won't fly in the face of, even if he does have a rotting soul infecting him."

Satisfied nods began in the crowd, and Spike kept his crowing silent. He knew his obedience to old tradition would spread like wildfire as soon as his clan went out to hunt. "So, everyone have a good hunt, stay out of too much trouble, and get back before dawn. Tomorrow night we begin our research on Clan Donovan."

The clan began to break up into smaller groups and Spike rose eagerly to his feet.

"You won't ask for Simeon's oath?" Daria asked him.

Looking down into the confused eyes of the male rubbing his head against her hip, Spike shook his head. "When he's regained enough of his sense for it to mean something, I will."

Daria immediately looked chagrined. "Did I go too far?"

Cupping the back of her neck, he placed a quick kiss on her lips. "No, he's perfect. Enjoy him."

As he pulled back, he saw the disappointment on her face. "You won't share my bed this night?"

"It's not you, Daria. It's..." He glanced past her to the door that led to the outside. "There's someone else out there for me."

"She...?" Daria looked to him for confirmation, then continued at his nod, "She's very lucky."

"I'm the lucky one." Giving her a cocky smile, he left the building and headed for Peaceful Grove cemetery.

Glancing at her watch for the tenth time in half as many minutes, Buffy kicked her heels against the low tomb she sat upon and frowned.

Spike was three minutes late.

Just as she raised her watch into the moonlight again, she caught a glimpse of him strolling towards her. He appeared to be whistling, his hands stuck into the back pockets of his jeans. Buffy growled and hopped off the tomb.

"You're late."

"Grinning, he continued towards her. "Makes you more horny."

"Does not," she protested.

He made a show of sniffing the air and winked at her. "Panties wet, luv?"

Narrowing her eyes, Buffy stalked towards her, trying not to redden as the wet silk that barely covered her rubbed against her swollen cleft. She had spent the last twenty minutes sitting on the tomb fantasizing.

They stopped a few feet from each other and Buffy ran her eyes over him, looking for new injuries, unable to prevent herself from asking, "How'd it go with your clan?"

"Everything's dandy. I have their complete and utter obedience. And Angel's already been spreading the word."

"Good." She took another step forward and wrapped a hand in the open neck of his shirt, pulling him against her. "Can we fuck now?"

Grinning, Spike wrapped one arm around her hips and thrust the growing bulge in his pants against her stomach as his lips crushed hers. He picked her up with ease and as she wrapped her legs around his waist, he moved them back towards the tomb.

"Really...glad...no watchman," Buffy gasped out between hot kisses as she clung to him. She felt the stone beneath her bottom and settled onto her back, pulling Spike down with her so that she could continue to kiss him.

As their mouths met in hunger and lust, his hands roamed over her breasts, then slid beneath the loose tank top to cup the lace-covered mounds. His thumbs tweaked her nipples and she moaned, arching into his caress. Her fingers tangled in his hair, then slid down to the buttons on his shirt, quickly pulling them free.

At the feel of her fingernails grazing his chest, Spike groaned and thrust against her. He could feel her damp heat through the thickness of their pants and his cock twitched and leaped in response.

Pulling free of her mouth, Spike shoved himself up, away from her grasping hands, to fumble with the fastenings on her jeans. Finally he got the zipper down, then tugged at the tight material, skimming the pants down her legs as she lifted her hips. Dropping to his knees, he yanked off her boots, then her pants, before stumbling back to his feet and plastering her stomach with kisses.

Buffy moaned loudly, squirming on the hard, cold marble, as his mouth sent shivers through her. Her body throbbed with pleasure and she let her eyes close, a smile of happiness and need etched on her face.

Laving her navel with his tongue, Spike caught the sides of her panties in his fingers and inched them down. Again, she lifted her hips to help, and the scrap of silk was soon on the ground. As he stretched his hands up to cup her breasts, he lowered his mouth to her damp curls, tasting sweat and arousal as he licked them even wetter.

Buffy's hands caught his wrists, guiding his hands to the front clasp of her bra as she held her breath in anticipation. His tongue slid deeper, brushing against the swollen folds of flesh, tasting her swiftly flowing juices. As the clasp opened and the silk cups fell to the sides, Spike flicked his tongue at her clit, earning him a squeal of delight.

Smiling, he ran his tongue along the outer lips, then the inner, as his fingers found her swollen nipples and pinched them lightly. Buffy managed to pull the tank top over her head, then flung her hands to the sides and wrapped her legs around his neck, as his tongue slowly slid inside her.

Her legs clenched and she lifted her hips, urging him deeper. Spike obliged, stiffening his tongue and sliding it in and out of her. His hands left her breasts to catch her hips, rolling her higher so he could penetrate her easier. As his tongue thrusts sped up, he heard her sob in pleasure.

Buffy clutched at her breasts, kneading them roughly as her orgasm built. On about every third or fourth thrust of his tongue, Spike's nose brushed against her sensitive clit making her shudder and moan, her muscles tightening like a spring.

Suddenly she felt a wet finger slide into her anus and she stiffened, her eyes flying open. It thrust in time with his tongue just as a finger on his other hand found her clit and rubbed it.

Keening loudly, Buffy crashed into orgasm, her body clenching around him, her hips bucking uncaringly against the hard marble. She cried his name and shuddered wildly.

Spike grinned in pleasure and licked her gently as she fell limp. As her legs slid down his shoulders, he moved them aside and rose to his feet. Quickly he shucked off his clothes and wrapped his hand around the base of his throbbing erection. He caught her looking at the purple tip and licking her lips, and groaned at the throb of lust that bolted through him.

Buffy's legs spread again, dangling off the side of the tomb, and she began to massage her breasts, a bit more gently this time. He noted her breathing increasing and grinned as he moved between her legs. Taking her ankles, he pushed her carefully back until her bottom was on the very edge of the tomb, her limber legs bent so that the heels touched the marble top.

Leaning forward, he ran his cock along her cleft, wetting it and sending shivers of pleasure through both of them.

"Want me inside you?" he murmured.

"Oh yes," she sighed, her fingers flicking her tender nipples. Spike bent and caught one between his teeth, nipping it until she whimpered in desire. Her hips lifted and her wet, throbbing cleft bucked up against his cock, and that was too much for him. With a loud groan, he guided himself inside her, thrusting deep and powerfully.

Gripping the edge of the tomb, he pumped, his eyes closed, his teeth clenched together, only hisses of unnecessary breath escaping from him as his control shattered. Buffy met each thrust, ignoring the pain in her backside as it smacked against the tomb, only relishing the smack of her pelvis against his, her clit against his pubic bone.

Quickening the pace, Spike lowered his upper body and again took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling hungrily on it. He laved kisses from one breast to the other, as their bodies moved together at a faster and faster pace.

Buffy's second orgasm was slower to build but hit more suddenly, sending her into wild abandon, her back nearly arching off the marble as pleasure exploded through her. As she sobbed and gasped, Spike grabbed her calves, shoving them towards her shoulders, plunging deeper and deeper into her.

Her inner muscles fluttering around his slick shaft, he flung his head back and howled with pleasure, pumping his semen into her with hard, jerky thrusts. Gasping, he collapsed over her, his face burrowing between her breasts as his hips began to slow down to a more gentle, shallow pace.

Buffy's knees fell to the marble and she sprawled there, still moaning softly as she felt her his cock continue to rub her slick passage, creating a pleasant friction.

Slowly Spike moved up over her more and kissed her softly, then slipped his mouth along her cheek and down to her ear as her head rolled to the side. He nipped the lobe and felt her shuddering breath cause her breasts to press up against his chest. Her hands rose to his shoulders, squeezing the hard flesh as fresh desire burst between her legs.

"Again," she murmured, turning her head to catch his lips with hers.

Spike hooked his arms beneath her knees and felt her heels brush against his shoulders as he rotated his hips, causing her to groan and meet his next thrust. As his mouth found the hollow at the base of her throat, Buffy rolled her head on the balled up tank top she'd fashioned into a pillow, unable to comprehend the swift renewal of her desire. The tension between her legs was growing rapidly, even as her clit throbbed sorely against the base of his cock.

As her third orgasm overwhelmed her, Buffy dug her fingernails into Spike's buttocks, pressing him deeply inside her as she quaked and wailed beneath him. Spike pushed a few more times into her tightly clenching passage, then pulled free of her with a loud grunt.

Sighing in ecstasy, Buffy lay limp and spent on the marble, her flushed skin glistening with perspiration, her breasts heaving with each gasp for breath. Gently Spike lowered her legs and hopped up next to her on the tomb.

Buffy's eyes slowly fluttered open and she turned her head to look at him. Her gaze fell on his cock, still hard, the purple tip oozing, the shaft slick with her inner juices. Moving slowly onto her side and more firmly onto the cold marble slab, she gasped as one nipple touched the hard stone and sprang erect.

"Why didn't you..." She pointed to his erection which bobbed against his stomach.

"Thought I'd take a breather."

A smile flitted across her lips at his ironic choice of words, and she reached out and brushed a finger over the tip of his cock. As Spike drew in a sharp breath, she stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked.

"Fuck, baby..."

Shifting closer to him, Buffy wrapped her fingers around the shaft and began to pump hard and fast. After several minutes, his hand fell on her shoulder, convulsively clutching at her as his other hand braced behind him so that he could lean back, hips thrusting in the air. His cock pulsed in her hand, once, twice, then his semen spurted onto his stomach.

Groaning, Spike collapsed backwards, lifting his head only long enough so he could see Buffy licking her hand clean, a grin on her face.

"Tomorrow," he murmured, "after dress up and dinner, I'm going to show you something new."

She cocked one tired eyebrow at him and pressed a kiss to his thigh before resting her head there. "I think I know everything."

Spike just grinned lazily and stroked her head.

 

The End

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