Valentine’s Day Special

This entry is part 1 of 4 in the series Valentine’s Day Special
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Gah! Almost forgot about posting this here! I hope everyone is having a wonderful Valentine’s Day.

This is an NC17 sequel to a fic written for Valentine’s Day a couple of years ago, so don’t read it if you aren’t old enough. (forgot the link, here it is: http://spuffystuff.org/valentine.htm) It’s schmoopy, for all that.

 

Title: Valentine’s Day Special
Author: Slaymesoftly
Rating: pwp – NC17
Summary: a sequel to my Valentine’s Day pwp of a few years ago, (God Bless St. Valentine), this one begins immediately after the ending of that one. I don’t know that it’s necessary to have read the first one, but it would definitely help explain what’s going on here. ☺ We begin with Spike and Buffy cuddling in his bed…
AN: This fic plays a bit fast and loose with the timeline of events in Season Six, but since the whole thing is a “don’t we wish” fantasy in the first place, I’ll just ask you to forget about anything that doesn’t jibe with canon. Thanks.:)

 

Previously, in “God Bless St. Valentine”….

“Don’t be daft, Slayer. Of course I liked it. I just wouldn’t be able to stand the thought that you’d…Never mind,” he finished as he remembered that he had no right be possessive about any of her body parts.

To his surprise, instead of getting angry at him for his possessiveness, she snuggled next to him and whispered, “I would never have been able to be that… open… with anyone else. You’re the only one I trust that much.”

Spike was embarrassed by the lump that immediately rose in his throat and the tears that threatened behind his eyes at her words.

“Bloody hell, pet,” was all he was able to choke out without humiliating himself. He pulled her into a tight embrace and buried his face in her scented hair. He remained like that, inhaling her scent and struggling to gain control of his emotions.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Spike,” she whispered.

The end.

 

Valentine’s Day Special

Chapter One

They rested quietly for several minutes, Buffy indulging in the rare normalcy of an after-sex cuddle, Spike trying to keep himself from waking up from what was obviously a dream. Assuring herself that she wasn’t really enjoying the way Spike’s hand was absently stroking her arm, or how secure and content she felt sprawled across his body with his arms wrapped around her, Buffy allowed him several more minutes of unusual post-coital closeness before she stirred. His arms immediately released her, and she cringed at this further proof of how well she had trained him not to expect affection from her during or after sex.

Rather than move away as he so clearly expected her to, she walked her fingers down his chest and across his belly, playing with the soft hairs on his lower abdomen. She didn’t miss the sudden twitch and gradual swelling of his cock that followed her touch. She giggled softly, asking, “So…did you like your Valentine’s Day present?”

“Think that was pretty obvious, pet,” he growled, unconsciously pushing his hips forward in an attempt to get her to move her hand farther down. Ignoring his silent plea, she continued to tickle and stroke the skin on his stomach, enjoying the way it covered the rippled abs and wondering, not for the first time, how somebody with such a strong, muscular body could have such soft, touchable skin. She hadn’t realized how much her attention had wandered until he stilled her hand.

“Buffy? Where’d you go, love?”

She blushed and pulled her hand back quickly, missing the disappointment that flashed across his face as she did so.

“I was just thinking how…touchable your skin is. I guess I got distracted for a minute. Sorry,” she added, giving him a perky smile. “Guess that’s not what you wanted, huh?”

The vampire was just staring at her with his mouth open, his needy cock temporarily forgotten. He shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s twice this afternoon you’ve left me gobsmacked,” he said.

“Gobsmacked?”

“Means surprised, pet.”

“I know what it means – I just don’t know what I did to—“

“You don’t know what you did?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and she had the grace to blush.

“Okay, I guess I do. I have been a little… friendlier… than usual today. Must be the influence of Cupid, huh? Valentine’s Day and all that.”

“Since when are we valentines, Slayer?”

His voice trembled with the effort to keep it light and casual, but his expressive face gave him away. Buffy was trapped in his eyes, knowing he would be able to read the lie if she tried to tell one.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if we are… but it just seems like…” She shuddered and sat up, turning away from those perceptive eyes. “I’m sorry, Spike,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you think… I just wanted to give you a Valentine’s Day gift and I didn’t have time to get a card, so I… I just made things worse, didn’t I?” she finished, hanging her head.

“Buffy.” He put his hand under her chin and brought it up until she could see him. “You gave me two wonderful gifts today – and neither one of them was that rather spectacular blow job. You know you did. Letting me hold you, telling me you trust me – they don’t make cards with messages like that, love.”

He watched the anxiety fill her eyes and shook his head. Seeking to reassure her, he quickly added, “I’m not taking it for anything more than it is, Slayer. You didn’t put any expectations into my head, I promise you. I’m grateful, yeah, but not delusional. I jus’ wish you’d let me give you something too.”

Sure that they were back on familiar footing, she reached out to stroke his softened cock.

“I think I have time for that,” she said, licking her lips and smiling as he responded to her the way he always did.

“You can have that anytime you want, Slayer,” he growled, pushing her down on the bed and running his own hand up her thigh. “I meant somethin’ special. Something we don’t usually do.”

He prevented her from asking what that could possibly be by fastening his mouth on hers and distracting her from anything except his lips, tongue, and the hand now spreading pleasurable sensations and the accompanying moisture wherever his fingers wandered. When her hips were pushing into his hand, seeking to establish a rhythm, he rolled on top of her and nudged until she wrapped her legs around him and pulled. Without breaking the kiss, he slid into her in one stroke, swallowing her whimpered gasp with his mouth.

He set an easy rhythm, pulling out slowly and pushing back in until he hit the right spot, bringing a gasping yelp from her with every stroke. Buffy had her arms and legs wrapped around him, pulling him in tighter and tilting her hips up to meet his. With the comfortable ease that comes from much regular experience, they moved together, each knowing just how and when to vary their movements to please the other.

Taking her hands in one of his, he stretched them over her head, and encouraged her to drop her legs. With his body plastered to hers, he continued to set a steady pace without breaking the contact between them for more than fractions of a second at a time. As his pubic bone put pressure on her already sensitive clit, he pinned her down with his body and let the tremors that were shaking her bring him to his own release.

Without moving away, he tore his lips away from hers and dropped his face onto her neck, sucking the skin over her pulse until he thought he might go mad with the scent of the blood pumping just beneath the tender skin. Unbidden, his fangs began to elongate, just pricking her flesh before he realized what was happening to him and regained control. He couldn’t resist swallowing the tiny droplets of blood that had oozed into his mouth from the tightly stretched skin.

Either Buffy hadn’t noticed what he’d done, or she considered it part of their normally rough sexual activity, because she raised no complaint, only dropping her arms to hold him in place when he tried to roll off.

“Don’t,” she ordered. “Stay here.”

“No place I’d rather be,” he responded quickly, raising his head and shoulders, but leaving their bodies intimately connected. “Was afraid I was gettin’ too heavy, is all.”

Leaning on his elbows, he gazed down at her, marveling at the lack of disgust on her face as she looked back at him, her eyes warm, if inscrutable.

“What did you want to give me?” she asked, still holding his gaze. “If that wasn’t it,” she added, wriggling her hips and smiling as she felt him swelling inside her.

“That wasn’t it,” he growled, “but you’re gonna get that again if you keep it up.”

“Oooooh, scary thought. Help, help! The vampire is going to shag me.”

Her giggle and another wriggle brought an answering laugh from him; he shook his head in disbelief.

“Are we actually havin’ fun here, Slayer?” he asked, enjoying the way her eyes were dancing.

“Well, I am,” she giggled, then flexed her muscles and flipped them over so that she was sitting on him. “You’ll have to tell me if you aren’t having fun – ‘cause I’ll stop…”

He grabbed her hips with both hands and held her down while he pushed his own hips up to meet her. He could feel her warm bottom just above his balls and would have sworn he could feel them trying to reach the heated flesh hovering just out of reach.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the frown of concentration on his face. “Am I hurting you?”

He shook his head rapidly, then admitted, “I want to feel your heat on all of me. Cock and balls. I just can’t figure out how to make that happen.”

She wrinkled her brow for a second, then leaned back until she could reach behind her and cradle his balls in her hands.

“How’s this?” she asked, rolling them around until she could feel the friction-generated heat. While doing that, she was flexing and relaxing her muscles, squeezing his cock with a ragged rhythm that almost matched the motion of her hands.

Inarticulate sounds were coming from the vampire as all the borrowed blood in his body was drawn to the center of his being. His hands clenched the sheets as he arched into her, muttered words of praise and need sputtering from his mouth. The sight of Buffy’s tanned body bent in a bow from where their hips were joined only contributed to the sensations burning through him.

Afraid he would soon explode and leave her to be brought off by his tongue or hand, he pulled her towards his chest, groaning when her hands left his balls bereft, but reveling in the way she melted into him. Her mouth was now sucking on the skin of his throat in a way that would have done credit to a vampire, her greedy murmurs of need were muffled in his neck as she almost growled her desire to get closer to him.

Spike wrapped his legs around hers, pinning her to his churning hips. His arms were wound around her slender back, holding her to his chest as he continued to pump. Once again, their bodies were moving in unison, taking and giving pleasure in equal measure as they worked their way towards a mutually rewarding release of tension. Spike’s shout of “Buffy!” as he exploded into her depths was matched by her keening cry that continued for as long as the waves of sensation rode her body.

Almost unconscious from the strain, they remained collapsed together, the vampire’s gasps for unneeded air matching the slayer’s much more necessary gulps of oxygen. For long minutes, their panting breaths were all that could be heard in large underground room. Eventually, Buffy was sufficiently recovered to roll slowly to the side, whimpering as his cock slid out. Spike’s matching gasp and suddenly tightened arms indicated his own unwillingness to separate.

“That was, without a doubt, the best sex of my entire life,” Buffy gasped, still struggling for normal breathing.

“Right back atcha, Slayer,” he agreed with a smile that was too sated to be called a smirk. “I could dust right now and be perfectly happy.”

“You could?” Buffy raised her head to stare at him in disbelief, then dropped it as the sudden motion made her dizzy. “But then we wouldn’t be able to do it again,” she complained. “And that would suck.”

“It would, indeed, love. It truly would.”

His chuckle shook his chest; the chest upon which she had decided would be a good place to rest her still spinning head. She stuck her tongue out and licked their combined sweat off the nipple that was in front of her face. Said nipple immediately hardened to a small peak, which caused her to continue to tease it with her tongue and lips, before licking her way across to do the same to the other nipple.

“You’re kiddin’, right?” Spike’s disbelieving squeak caused her own body to shake with silent laughter.

“Actually, I sort of am,” she admitted. “I wasn’t really trying to start anything; I was just tasting you – us.”

“Taste good together, don’t we?”

“We do,” she agreed in a much softer voice. “I… I like us.”

“Well, that works out nicely, then,” he rumbled, tipping his chin down so as to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “Because I bloody love us.”

An uncomfortable silence followed the vampire’s use of the forbidden “L” word. Deciding he’d ruined the mood anyway, Spike dropped his arms and gently moved Buffy’s head off his chest. He rolled her to the side and turned himself to face her confused eyes.

“Not pushing you away, pet,” he said quietly, “jus’ need to be looking at you.”

She nodded uncertainly, unwilling to say how much she objected to being deprived of his warm embrace, but equally unwilling to give it up until she was ready. He gazed into her eyes and smiled sadly, lifting one hand to run his knuckles along her flushed cheek.

“There’s no sense in getting’ your knickers in a twist every time I use that word,” he began hesitantly. “Telling me I can’t say it doesn’t make it less true, Buffy. It was true last year – long before I tried to tell you how I felt – and it’s even more true now. I’m not gonna take a chance on driving you away by forcing you to hear it when you don’t want to, but I’m not going to pretend it isn’t true, either. And sometimes, when something… when you… when we…” When we make love like that. “Bollocks!”

He growled and threw himself backwards so that he was lying flat and staring at the ceiling. Buffy inched closer and stretched one arm across his chest. Automatically, his hand came up to caress her arm; he turned his head and smiled ruefully.

“Sound like a bloody ponce, don’t I?”

“Well, probably. If I knew what a ‘ponce’ was, anyway.” She moved closer and nuzzled the hickey she’d raised on his neck. “I marked you,” she said, changing the subject.

“Did you now?” He sounded inordinately pleased, which made her smile.

“I did. Gave you a big old hickey. Everybody will know what you’ve been doing.”

“Jus’ so they don’t know who I’ve been doing it with, eh, pet?”

Buffy sighed and rolled away, joining him in staring at the dirt ceiling.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean that to sound like I was complaining. My mouth outran my brain again, is all.”

“It’s okay,” she said, turning her head so that she could meet his anxious stare. “You have every right to complain. I know that, Spike. I’m not oblivious to how hard this is for you. Sometimes…sometimes it’s hard for me, too.”

“Gobsmacking me again, here, pet. Wanna explain that?”

“Not really.” She grimaced, annoyed at having blurted out something better kept to herself.

“Buffy?”

She could have dealt with angry demands, with his snarky insistence that she stop hiding from her feelings. She could have even dealt with tears – although he never let her see those, she knew that she sometimes caused them. But she couldn’t handle the plea in her whispered name. She sighed and prepared to reveal things she’d never wanted him to know.

“Sometimes, when we’re in the Magic Shop, or the Bronze, or somewhere like that, I want to touch you. Not like that!” she said, catching the beginning of a leer and smacking him on the chest. “I mean, I just want to…to be sitting near you, you know? To be able to touch your hand if – when – somebody says something nasty to you. When I’m tired, I want to be able to lean on you the way Anya leans on Xander.”

“But you can’t,” he said dully.

“But I can’t,” she agreed, her voice as flat and uninflected as his.

Spike wasn’t sure if he wanted to rip her throat out for telling him what he was missing, or rip out the throats of all the Scoobies whose opinion was so important to her that she wouldn’t allow herself the smallest physical comfort in front of them.

As though reading his mind, she said quietly, “It’s not all their fault, you know. It’s me, too. I don’t feel like I should want those things from you. It’s wrong and too couply.”

She could see his jaw twitch as he tried not to let her know how angry he was. She could almost hear his teeth grinding, and she closed her eyes, knowing the special afternoon was over. With a sigh, she sat up and looked around for her clothes, finding them lying on the chair where she had neatly folded and placed them while waiting for Spike to get home. She didn’t even bother looking for her underwear.

They’re probably ripped anyway.

She was moving to the edge of the bed to get dressed when Spike’s hand on her arm stopped her. She took a few seconds to allow him to change his mind, but when he only tightened his grip, she turned to face him.

“What if we could find a place where no one knows us? Where we could just be a man and a woman having a nice dinner? With no worries about accidental touches causing ranting and raving?”

“Is there such a place?” Buffy tried to keep the hope from her voice, but the perceptive vampire heard it.

“If I say ‘yes’, will you let me take you there? Tonight? Just for an early dinner,” he hastened to explain. “You can still meet the Scoobies at Sunnydale’s answer to the Copa Cabana, but we could have ourselves a nice, quiet Valentine’s Day evening out first.”

Buffy stared at him, plainly seeing the hope and fear that he was trying to hide behind a calm, neutral demeanor. While she wondered what she was going to say, her mind was already working out details – what to wear, where to tell Dawn she was going and how to get Willow to take Dawn with her to the Bronze. His face was already dropping into an expression of sad resignation when she finally answered him.

“Okay,” she said. “What time will you pick me up?”

A slow smile spread across the vampire’s face and his eyes lit up.

“How about 6:00? Gives us time for a nice meal and still gets you to the Bronze before they send out a search party.”

“’K. I’ll see you then.”

Acting on impulse, she leaned in and kissed him before leaping off the bed and into her clothes. Without another word, or a backward glance, she ran up the ladder and out of the crypt into the warm sunlight. She never saw the awestruck vampire holding two fingers against the mouth she had just, for the first time since she’d begun coming to him, kissed ‘good-bye’.

“See you,” he echoed to the empty room; then ran to his makeshift shower to get cleaned up and ready for what he was going to call a “date”.

And sod whatever euphemism the Slayer might want to use for it.

TBC

 

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/237253.html

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