Buffy glanced at her watch and decided that she could get in an hour's worth of patrolling before her mom started to panic. As she rose to her feet, Willow caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to her best friend.

"Are you leaving? Dingos are only half way through their set."

"And Cordelia has yet to slap her date silly for touching her butt," Xander added, his eyes never leaving his former girlfriend.

Buffy ignored Xander's comment and nodded at Willow. "I should patrol. I'm kind of being quiet, mopey girl as it is."

"Yeah, I noticed." Willow gave her a concerned look. "Can I help?"

Smiling back, Buffy shook her head. "Nah, probably just the slaying blues or something. I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can go to the Mall...?"

"Sure, I heard there's a sale at the Limited."

"Cool. Bye guys." Buffy grabbed her slaying bag and headed for the door.

As she stepped into the alley and felt the warm night air caress her bare arms, a shiver went through her, and she sighed softly. It had been five days since the afternoon in the basement with Spike and she...missed him.

She hated that she missed him.

Every time she thought about him she got this tingle deep in her belly and a warmth rushing through her.

He was a pig.

And she wanted him.

Sighing again, Buffy headed for the nearest cemetery, determined to put Spike out of her mind and concentrate on her duties. She wasn't going to go looking for him. He had said that he knew her slaying routes and would find her.

At his own bloody convenience, obviously.

Jealousy washed over her as she wondered what, or more likely, who had kept him busy for the last five nights. He had admitted that he'd slept with other women since their first time. While she'd been making do with her hands and a vibrator, he'd probably been screwing every vampire chick in his clan.

Fucking bastard.

Having quickly worked herself into a state of anger and blood lust, Buffy stormed into Restfield Cemetery looking for something to kill.

Spike leaned against a crypt lighting a cigarette and trying to ignore the erection pressing painfully against the teeth of his zipper. He was going to have to look into buying some of those button fly jeans if he was going to be walking around all the time with a raging hard on.

It had been five days since he'd been buried in the Slayer's hot quim. Five days of torment, tossing off in his lonely bed.

And the shower, and once even in this very cemetery after an unsuccessful hunt.

Growling low in his throat, Spike drew on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his flared nostrils. He was waiting for the clubs to shut down to go find something young and preferably blonde to eat, then he was going home to his empty bed.

Maybe he'd fuck the young blonde first before draining her, though using substitutes for the Slayer didn't seem to take the edge off any more.

All he had to do was go find her. She had said she wouldn't fight him anymore. He was being stubborn and willful. He'd blatantly told her that he'd come looking for her and fuck her willing body over or against any convenient surface. Yet, he'd avoided her for five days, not wanting to see that hint of pain in her eyes as they used each others bodies.

Spike banged one fist back against the crypt, cursing under his breath. This was stupid. It was just fucking, mindless fucking. The Slayer was beautiful and had the stamina of a vampire with all the heat of a human. She could take all the hard fucking he could give her and beg for more.

Why was he avoiding her? He could always close his fucking eyes!

Or take her from behind. She had a gorgeous ass, and then he could squeeze and fondle those firm tits...

"Oh fuck," he cursed as his cock throbbed painfully. He banged his head back against the hard stone this time, trying to drive away the image of the Slayer naked and sweaty and reaching for him.

Buffy heard a growling, British accented voice cursing from the other side of the crypt about a hundred yards ahead of her, and froze. She took a deep breath, then another, then stiffened her spine and strode forward ready to confront both the demon waiting for her and her own inner demons.

Spike caught her scent as she rounded the crypt, and pushed off from the hard stone. Dropping the butt of his cigarette, he stepped on it, then set his jaw and looked up at her.

He wanted to cry as all the blood in his body rushed to his dick. She was wearing this flimsy, strappy handkerchief of a dress that barely covered her. With his preternatural eyesight he could see her nipples outlined against the thin silky material and knew she wasn't wearing a bra. As she stepped into a pool of light from the street light behind her, he slid his gaze down her body and saw that she was only wearing the skimpiest pair of panties under the dress.

Spike swallowed convulsively.

At first sight of him, Buffy felt a surge of desire run through her making her whole body tingle. He looked gorgeous. He always looked gorgeous. Dressed in faded, well worn jeans, a black t-shirt and his leather duster, he exuded sex appeal. All her anger vanished, replaced by frustration and lust.

"So," she began, then took another deep breath, gathered her bravado, and dropped her bag to the ground. "How do you want me?" She didn't bother asking *if* he wanted her. One look at the fire in his eyes and the bulge in his crotch had told her that.

His brain fuzzy, his cock leading the way, Spike stumbled forward, dragging his duster off his shoulders. He spread it on the ground and dropped to his knees, reaching for her.

"Here, now, on your back, now," he babbled.

Buffy's confidence soared and she gave him a wicked smile as she strolled forward and joined him on the makeshift blanket. She was on her back with Spike looming over her before she could blink. "Is this gonna be another wham bam thing?" she asked caustically, looking up into the frustration on his face.

"Probably." His mouth covered hers, his tongue prying her lips apart as one hand fondled her breasts and his knee parted her thighs.

Reveling in his rough, fast touch, Buffy grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled it from his waistband. She slid her hands up beneath the cotton and ran her fingernails lightly over his back, as she met each hungry kiss. Spike ground his erection against her thigh, his control gone with her first touch.

Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of her skirt and dragged it up to her waist. His hand slid into the front of her panties and his fingers found burning, wet flesh. Using his middle finger, he rubbed her clit quickly until she moaned and arched against his hand.

Growling, Spike roamed kisses over her face and throat, down to the perspiration glistening valley between her breasts. Buffy's hands came up to his head, her fingers running through his hair, and she guided his mouth across her chest. Her breath quickened and the tension between her legs grew as he caressed her roughly, nothing gentle about his touches or kisses. Suddenly she was climaxing, hard and fast, her hips bouncing off the hard ground to meet his finger.

Breathing in her arousal, Spike slid his finger from her panties and sucked it into his mouth. He looked down and saw Buffy watching him with embarrassment and lust. "It's not like I haven't tasted you before, Slayer," he growled.

Forcing aside her embarrassment, Buffy reached for Spike's belt buckle. "That was nice, but I'd really like to come again."

He chuckled at her boldness and helped her unfasten his belt and unsnap his jeans. Carefully he lowered his zipper and his cock sprang into her hand.

Buffy caressed it as quickly as he had caressed her, and Spike fell onto his side, gasping and surging into her hand, his own hands fumbling and shoving his jeans down. As she pumped him, she used her free hand to wriggle her panties down to her knees. Spike caught them and jerked them the rest of the way off.

Turning on her side to face him, Buffy wrapped one leg around Spike's waist and brought the head of his cock to her burning entry, rubbing the tip along her wet cleft. He cupped her bottom and slid inside her with an awkward thrust. Buffy moaned and tightened her leg, squirming until he was sheathed in her tight passage. Gripping his arm, she began to pump herself on his cock.

Spike growled and buried his mouth in the crook of her neck, sucking hungrily on her salty skin as they banged together at a frenzied pace. Buffy grunted and moaned and ground against him, rubbing her clit on his pubic bone and her thinly covered breasts against his chest, driving them both crazy.

Wanting a better angle, Buffy grabbed Spike's shoulder and flipped him onto his back before he could react. She straddled him and slid back onto his cock, rocking frantically, driving herself against him, her head flung back and her eyes flitting from star to star as her pleasure grew. Spike grabbed her hips, lifting her and slamming her back down, growling every time she clenched her inner muscles around his straining cock.

"Want to see your tits," he grunted through gritted teeth.

Panting for breath, Buffy struggled with the straps of her dress, finally shoving them down her arms so that the perspiration drenched dress could be pushed to her waist. One hand remaining on her hip, Spike reached up with the other and fondled one of her breasts, rolling her pebbled nipple between his fingers.

Buffy whimpered and felt her clit throb in reaction to his manipulation of her breast. She ground down on him, tightening her muscles until he lifted his hips, driving them both up. Leaning forward into the hand at her breasts, Buffy rubbed her clit harder against the base of his cock, her hips pumping even quicker as her lust spun out of control.

With a guttural cry, she came, spasming around him, her fingers digging into his the neck of his t-shirt. Spike raised his other hand so that he could squeeze both breasts, kneading them roughly as he thrust harder and harder until he arched his back and yelled as he exploded into her.

Buffy collapsed forward, nearly banging her forehead on his chin as her shaking body began to relax. Spike groaned and flopped his arms out at his sides as his orgasm rolled through him.

Only one thought flitted through his mind.

How come it was never so fucking good when he came anywhere but deep inside her?

After several minutes, when Buffy's heart rate had calmed and she was breathing normally, she slid off of him, wrinkling her nose at the feel of sticky secretions sliding down her inner thighs. As she rose to her knees, she tugged the straps of her dress back up, covering her breasts.

"You're lucky this dress is washable," she muttered, making a face at how sticky and hot she felt in her sweat-dampened clothes.

Spike just lay there gasping, arms stretched out at his sides, legs sprawled, glistening cock curled across one thigh. Slowly he looked up at her and caught her eyes.

There was no pain or emptiness in them as he had feared there would be.

He smiled to himself.

"Can we not wait five days the next time?" she asked waspishly as she searched for her panties.

"Sure, whatever," he mumbled, returning his gaze to the sky.

Buffy rolled her eyes and wrenched the scrap of silk out from under his hips. She put the panties on, then rose on shaky legs and smirked down at him. "Well, at least you won't have the energy to fuck any of your vampire whores," she snickered, picking up her bag and disappearing into the darkness.

"Nope," Spike mumbled, exhausted and satiated. A big grin crossed his face. "No energy, no need."

His unlife was looking up.

Buffy was sitting on the edge of the Mall fountain eating the remains of an ice cream cone when Willow arrived. Wiping her sticky fingers on a napkin and discarding it, Buffy rose to her feet and slung her purse over her shoulder.

"So, where to first?" Willow asked.

Buffy grinned. "I have dad's gold card. He's still making up for missing my birthday. Let's go to Victoria Secret."

"Victoria Secret?" Willow squeaked in surprise.

"Yeah, I'm in the mood for something sexy." She linked her arm through Willow's and dragged her towards the lingerie store.

"But, but...underwear?" the red head hissed in surprise. "Did you and Angel get back together/"

"Uh, no."

Willow pulled free and turned to face her best friend, eyes wide. "Do you have a new boy friend that I know nothing about?"

"Can't a girl just buy frilly things to make herself feel good?"

Willow shrugged. "You're talking to the girl with flowered cotton panties from Sears."

The Slayer smirked. "Let's get you something frilly, too. Something that will make Oz' eyes bug out."

Her own eyes threatening to do that, Willow turned bright red and gulped. Still, she didn't resist as Buffy pulled her into the store full of silks and satins in bright colors.

Buffy went straight for the bustiers and matching thongs. She wanted to blow Spike's mind the next time they met. Though, truth be told, he had seemed pretty mind blown the night before. A part of her had wanted to return to the spot this morning to see if there was a pile of ashes where they'd been laying.

Could a vampire die from sex?

Grinning, she held up a red satin, low cut bustier to her body and turned to Willow. "What do you think?"

"I think that's something my bad self would have liked," Willow answered, referring to her vampire double.

"Yeah, me too." Buffy added the matching lace trimmed thong, then gazed critically at her friend. "Emerald, definitely your color." She pawed through the rack until she found an emerald chemise with a silver lace over-bodice. "Come on, let's try these on."

"I could never wear this," Willow protested, but her fingers ran lovingly over the silk. "I'll just get a pair of panties, white."

Buffy shook her head. "Boring. Unless they're made of only lace. I think there are some back here."

The color deepened on the red head's face and she choked, clutching the chemise to her chest. "No, this is okay," she finally gulped out, then muttered, "This at least will cover me." Grinning, Buffy pulled her to the dressing rooms.

An hour or so later, laden with bags, the girls left Victoria's Secret and headed for their original destination, the Limited.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into those matching bras and panties," Willow muttered, still blushing slightly.

"Believe me, when you and Oz reach that point of no return, you'll appreciate the pretty underthings...or at least, he will." Buffy shot her friend a lascivious grin.

Willow avoided that comment. "How are you going to explain to your dad that you spent over five hundred dollars on underwear? And you have to let me pay you back for mine."

"Nope, consider them your Christmas gifts."

"I don't celebrate Christmas."

"So, no problem. And, dad will just have to accept that I'm a woman now," Buffy replied confidently. "Anyway, you saw that they sell perfectly decent nighties and p.j.s. He doesn't have to know *what* I bought."

"Are you sure you don't have a secret boyfriend?"

Buffy just grinned and headed for the sale, wondering whether or not Spike would like her in a black leather mini skirt.

 

The End

 

<< back