Bad, Bad Thing

A/N Thanks to everybody for the reviews. I appreciate them muchly. A happy pepper is a smut writing pepper...

Chapter 11—Interlude at the Lake

Buffy looked good. She knew it. She had on a new skirt and a cute blink blouse that she had borrowed from Willow. Her hair hung lose, with just a hint of curl. She wore scant make-up, just enough to cover a few blemishes and highlight the color of her eyes.

She was wet before she even got to the café. It had been only 28 hours and 35 minutes since the last time—the first time—they had sex, but that was 28 hours too late.

He was waiting for her outside, in his big SUV. She recognized it immediately. She hurried over to it, and he opened the door for her. She got in without saying a word, and he pulled away from the café silently.

Buffy wanted to ask him where they were going, but somehow she knew it was best not to speak. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her. It didn’t occur to her that she should be frightened, or at least uneasy, that her English teacher was driving her further and further away from civilization for an unknown reason.

She studied his profile as he drove. He looked…different. It took her a few minutes to figure out why. His hair was slicked back, and he wasn’t wearing his standard uniform of a sports jacket and slacks. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. And he was holding an unlit cigarette in one hand.

It gave her more than just a small thrill to see him like this, unlike anything that any of her other classmates had ever seen. He looked younger, less strict, less stuffy. He must have felt her eyes on him, because he gave her a sideways glance and a half smile. It occurred to her that if he did that again, she would die of a heart attack. He was absolutely gorgeous.

“What’s on your mind, Ducks?”

That I want you to fuck me right now. “You look different,” she said instead. Smooth move, Buffy. Smooth move. That sounded really intelligent.

He laughed softly. “I know.” But he didn’t offer any further explanation.

It seemed like he had been driving for hours, but when Buffy glanced at the clock, only fifteen minutes had passed. Just another 5, and he parked the car. “Here we are,” he announced.

Spike jumped out of the car and went around to open her door. Before she could step out, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her out. His mouth met her in a crushing kiss, and she sighed with relief. This is what she needed, what she had been craving all day.

He lowered her, her body sliding against his until her feet touched the ground. Spike tilted her head back and licked the hollow of her throat until she was moaning. “You taste so good.”

“Mmmmm.”

He reached into the truck, grabbed a blanket, slammed the door, grabbed her hand, and led her towards the lake. Buffy recognized the place vaguely, memories of past swimming their when she was younger making her slightly nostalgic. He led her to a grassy bank, spread the blanket, and pulled her to the ground.

“Lay down,” he directed. She complied.

He gently lifted her shirt above her head, exposing her breasts and dusky nipples. He licked a trail from her throat to her belly, while his hand worked to free her from her skirt.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he told her. “In class, all I could think about was getting you alone, so I could this,” gently tugged on one nipple with his teeth, “and this,” his hand cupped her wet mound, “and this” he moved down her body and teased her clit briefly with his tongue.

“Oh god,” Buffy breathed.

He lay beside her, propping himself up on one elbow. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch, still confined by tight jeans. “Feel how hard you make me, Buffy? Just thinking of you makes me ache.”

Inside, Buffy was dying. It was like everything she had ever fantasized about. For a moment, she thought this was too good to be true. And if he kept talking to her like that, she would come right there. He wouldn’t even need to touch her to bring her off.

“Wanted to take you right there in class.” His finger slipped between her lips and began rubbing her clit. She bucked and moved against his hand, grinding her hips to increase the friction. “Didn’t care who would see, just wanted to be inside of you again.”

“Oh…oh god,” she gasped as the first orgasm of what she hoped would be many overtook her.

He waited until she relaxed, and then he kicked his pants off. He licked two of his fingers—the two that had been rubbing her into ecstasy—and then slid them slowly into her hole. He stretched her and made her ready for him, and just when she thought she would beg, he found that spot that made her scream. He rubbed it quickly, and the slowly, hard, and then with the barest hint of pressure. He pushed her right to the edge of the orgasm, and pulled her back from the brink by changing direction and technique until she wanted to scream in frustration.

Spike pulled his fingers out, and she sighed in relief and anticipation. Surely it was time, her body was willing and ready, she felt like she could climb the walls (if there were walls around, that is…). But instead of doing what she expected, needed, he started rubbing her hard, throbbing clit.

Buffy tensed and almost immediately prepared herself for the fireworks. She was so, so close and if he would just rub a bit faster then she would…he stopped. “Agh!”

Spike’s fingers moved from between her legs and found her nipples. He rubbed them until they were as hard, and bolts of pleasure were shooting from her neck to her groin. She felt like she was on a hardwire, and just a little shove would send her plummeting. Spike just needed to shove her.

He was silent, no more playful, dirty talk. No longer teasing her with words, he teased her with his fingers, his eyes, and then his tongue. Shivers raced down her spine when he licked the swell of her breast, and then her throat, and then ran the tip of it across her lips. Finally, when she felt she was at her breaking point, his fingers found their way back to her pussy.


But instead of focusing on her clit, like she sorely needed, he only rubbed the sensitive skin of her labia. If felt nice, but only to the point that it made her absolutely insane. Whimpers and then pleas escaped her throat.

“What do you want, Buffy?”

“Please…touch me…make me…I’m going to die.”

“Do you want me?” His deep voice reverberated through her body, his warm breath tickled her ear. Every nerve ending was screaming, and all he had to do was breath on her to make her taunt to the point of snapping.

“I do, I do, I do,” she babbled. At that point, she would have happily agreed to anything if it meant he would finally fuck her and end the delicious, painful, wonderful torment.

“How much?”

“Oh god,” she moaned, the only words she could force pass her constricted throat. His hand was caressing her thighs, as he carefully avoided touching her where she really needed it.

Was it possible for pain to feel so good? Or for pleasure to hurt so bad? She didn’t even know what she was feeling anymore, all she knew was that it was absolutely exquisite and horrible at the same time.

“Beg me,” he whispered darkly, his voice wrapping around her like silk. She could barely hear him through the crashing of her heart in his ears.

“Please, please, pleasepleaseplease…”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please fuck me, I need you so bad. Please.”

“That’s good.” He kneeled before her and guided his cock to her waiting body, teasing her a bit with his head. “You want more?”

“Ye-es.”

“Say my name.”

“Please, Spike.”

“No, no Buffy. You know what I want you to say.”

It took a second for his voice to penetrate the fog surrounding her brain, and even longer for her to form words. How could he expect her to speak when he was so, so close?

“Say it,” he encouraged with a small, small thrust. That was enough for her.

“Please, Mr. William, please fuck me.” Please let those be the magic words because I can’t take this any…


She was rewarded with one long, slow thrust that filled her completely and reached deep inside of her. He touched spots of her that she didn’t even know. She immediately began gasping for air, the excitement too much for her to bear.

He moved so slow, so very slow, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was inside of her, and she could wrap her legs around him tightly and scrape her fingernails across his back. He took her completely, in the light of the full moon, and made her his over and over again, claimed her, seared his image into her brain, and his body onto hers.

She blissfully rolled away on waves of pleasure, climaxing again and again until she could no longer separate when one orgasm began and one ended, and mind-bending, mind-numbing pleasure engulfed her completely.

Finally, eventually, too soon, it was over, and he had collapsed beside her. “You’re beautiful,” he said, “all laid out, covered in the moonlight, glowing like a goddess you are.”

Amazed that he could still speak, she just smiled, uncertain if she would be able to speak, or move, or walk ever again. She felt like she was floating, she couldn’t even feel her body.

“Are you my beautiful girl?”

She nodded sleepily.

“Go ahead and rest,” he soothed. “I’ll take care of you.”

Relieved, she let her eyes fall shut and her mind became un-tethered from her body as she ted ted away.