London Calling
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
14,530
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
14,530
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 10
More reviews, please! They make me feel all tingly.
Chapter 10
Buffy softly closed the door to her bedroom and sighed in relief. She'd made it up the stairs and into her room without being noticed. God, she didn't even want to think about the atrocious time she'd had tonight. She leaned down and kicked off her shoes, sitting down on the bed to massage her feet.
"Ahh..." She moaned in relief.
Standing up, she headed to her chest of drawers to pick out one of the faded nightgowns she'd gotten from her Mom as a hand-me-down. They'd started the tradition when Buffy was almost too young to remember. She'd loved wearing the soft, lacghtgghtgowns to sleep. They made her feel so grown up. Xander and Spike used to make fun of her when she was little for wearing them, saying that she looked like the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man. Buffy didn't care. Now with Mom gone... she'd put them on to feel close to her once again. She missed the talks they used to have in the kitchen late at night over hot cocoa - Mom's specialty. They'd chat about school or clothes or boys... mostly boys. Her Mother always knew just what to say.
Buffy pulled the nightgown over her head and contemplated her appearance in the mirror. She wasn't the little girl she used to be, but she still wished she had her Mother around to go to for advice.
She glanced around the room and chuckled to herself. Pink flowered wallpaper still covered the walls as well as the many school awards she'd won during her high school years. A plethora of books crowded every available space on her shelves and desktop. Her bed still boasted the same embroidered quilt she'd gotten from her grandmother when she was just nine years old.
OK, so maybe she WAS still a little girl at heart.
She laid back onto her bed and reached for Mr. Gordo. Hugging him to her, she inhaled the scent that still lingered after days... Spike.
Breathing deeply, she began to feel the stirrings of arousal. How was it that he always affected her this way? Just a single thought of him and she melted like warm ice cream. The way his hands felt against her skin, the way he'd smile at her when they shared a joke, the way his eyes burned, seeming to know every intimate detail of her...
Buffy inhaled and slowly traced her hand up the length of her thigh. Closing her eyes, she started the fantasy as she always did. Softly circling her center through the wetness of her panties, she called to mind the image of Spike reaching over to-
***
Grab the glass off the shelf. Spike turned on the tap and filled it, still squinting from the flourescent light of the bathroom bulb. He'd been lying in bed for hours, waiting for Buffy to return. He'd heard her sneak up the stairs and just as he was about to go out into the hall to confront her... he'd lost his nerve.
Spike chugged half the glass and then set it down on the sink as he rubbed a hand through his hair. Glancing into the mirror, he grimaced at his reflection.
He'd lost his nerve.
When in the bloody hell had that ever happened to him before?
"Fucking NEVER, that's when." He muttered to himself, shaking his head in disgust.
In all his years of dating around - well, let's be frank - fucking around, he'd never had this feeling come over him before. Even with Drusilla, who'd supposedly been the love of his life, he'd never felt this way. This insane need to protect someone. To just hold someone and smell their hair, stroke their cheek, gaze into their endlessly green eyes and see love reflected back at him with utter abandon.
Wait a tic.
Love?
Was that what he felt for Buffy?
He sat down on the side of the large, claw-footed bathtub and put his head in his hands. This was all happening much too quickly. He was just supposed to be down here for a few weeks, then back to London where he belonged.
London WAS where he belonged. Where his future was. It's where he was needed.
He paused mid-thought.
Why was it getting harder and harder to convince himself of that fact?
Spike shook his head and started to his feet. Reaching for the doorknob, he stopped. Cocking his head to the side, he listened intently. After waiting for a few seconds and hearing nothing, he shrugged his shoulders and started out of the room.
There it was again!
That breathy little sigh. Where was it coming from?
Closing the door, he made his way back into the bathroom. Listening intently, he followed the sound until it reached an air vent situated in the wall over the towel rack. Placing his ear up to it, he waited.
"Mmm..."
Spike jerked his head back and grimaced. If that was Anya and Xander, he REALLY didn't want to hear this.
"Spike..." Said the whisper-light voice at the other end of the vent.
Spike's eyes widened and he thought rapidly to himself. Xander and Anya's room was on the other side of the hall. The only other room down at this end would have to be...
"Buffy." He murmured, smirking.
He'd just been given a direct line into her bedroom.
Leaning back against the wall he stroked himself through his boxers.
Closing his eyes, he could just picture her... spread out on the bed, nightgown ruched up to her waist, baring her lovely body to the moonlight shining in through her window. She'd trace a hand up her body to-
***
Lightly clutch her breast. Moaning, Buffy slowly lowered the lacy fabric of her nighgown, baring herself to her touch. Bringing a hand up to her mouth, she licked the fingers and brought them back down to her already distended nipple and slowly circled a finger around the areole.
In her fantasy, Spike was beside her in the bed. It was his hand that cupped her breast, his mouth that suckled the nipple.
She breathed heavily through her intense arousal and moved her hand underneath her panties to delve a single finger inside. Arching her hips off the bed, she closed her eyes and invisioned Spike doing this to her.
She added a second finger and cried out at the friction. Rolling her head back and forth on the pillow, she opened her mouth and whimpered out-
***
"Spike, I need you."
Spike's eyes rolled back as he stroked himself furiously. Just listening to her moan his name was almost more than he could bear. He wanted to be in there with her. Tasting her, touching her, loving her...
Listening intently to the whimpers that came through the vent, he closed his eyes and pictured her there with him. Covering him with her hot little hand, or on her knees in front of him, engulfing him in the inferno of her mouth.
He shuddered and squeezed himself tightly to keep from coming at that little bit of imagery. He remembered all to well what it had been like that night.
He wanted to wait this out. Hear every little sigh that came from that pouty red mouth. Listen to her pleasure herself alone in her room, thinking of him, wanting him to push her up against the wall and-
***
fuck her 'til she couldn't stand.
Breathing harshly now, Buffy jammed in a third finger and imagined it was Spike. Filling her, completing her, wanting her...
She moved her hand ferociously, moments away from orgasm. The fantasy was just too intense. He'd lay her back on the bed and spread her legs wide, opening her completely to his touch. He'd bring himself to her entrance and the look in his eyes would be pure lust. Lost to sensation, he wouldn't wait. He wouldn't go slow. He'd thrust into her with a driving force, knocking her head back against the headboard.
Shoving her fingers mercilessly into herself, she imagined he'd tower over her staring straight into her eyes as he pounded into her.
"I love you, Buffy." He'd say.
She closed her eyes and came with a scream.
***
Hearing the loud wail echo through the wall, Spike stroked himself without mercy.
"Fuck, Buffy!" He cried out, coming in short jerky spasms all over the bathroom rug.
Feeling replete, he slouched down the wall until he was in a sitting position on the floor. God, he had to see her. Soon. Thank God Anya and Xander were going out of town tomorrow night. He needed to be alone with her. He had to have her.
Gathering his bearings, he picked himself up off the ground and went to his bedroom to clean up.
He closed the door before hearing Buffy's last breathy murmur.
"I love you, Spike."
Chapter 10
Buffy softly closed the door to her bedroom and sighed in relief. She'd made it up the stairs and into her room without being noticed. God, she didn't even want to think about the atrocious time she'd had tonight. She leaned down and kicked off her shoes, sitting down on the bed to massage her feet.
"Ahh..." She moaned in relief.
Standing up, she headed to her chest of drawers to pick out one of the faded nightgowns she'd gotten from her Mom as a hand-me-down. They'd started the tradition when Buffy was almost too young to remember. She'd loved wearing the soft, lacghtgghtgowns to sleep. They made her feel so grown up. Xander and Spike used to make fun of her when she was little for wearing them, saying that she looked like the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man. Buffy didn't care. Now with Mom gone... she'd put them on to feel close to her once again. She missed the talks they used to have in the kitchen late at night over hot cocoa - Mom's specialty. They'd chat about school or clothes or boys... mostly boys. Her Mother always knew just what to say.
Buffy pulled the nightgown over her head and contemplated her appearance in the mirror. She wasn't the little girl she used to be, but she still wished she had her Mother around to go to for advice.
She glanced around the room and chuckled to herself. Pink flowered wallpaper still covered the walls as well as the many school awards she'd won during her high school years. A plethora of books crowded every available space on her shelves and desktop. Her bed still boasted the same embroidered quilt she'd gotten from her grandmother when she was just nine years old.
OK, so maybe she WAS still a little girl at heart.
She laid back onto her bed and reached for Mr. Gordo. Hugging him to her, she inhaled the scent that still lingered after days... Spike.
Breathing deeply, she began to feel the stirrings of arousal. How was it that he always affected her this way? Just a single thought of him and she melted like warm ice cream. The way his hands felt against her skin, the way he'd smile at her when they shared a joke, the way his eyes burned, seeming to know every intimate detail of her...
Buffy inhaled and slowly traced her hand up the length of her thigh. Closing her eyes, she started the fantasy as she always did. Softly circling her center through the wetness of her panties, she called to mind the image of Spike reaching over to-
***
Grab the glass off the shelf. Spike turned on the tap and filled it, still squinting from the flourescent light of the bathroom bulb. He'd been lying in bed for hours, waiting for Buffy to return. He'd heard her sneak up the stairs and just as he was about to go out into the hall to confront her... he'd lost his nerve.
Spike chugged half the glass and then set it down on the sink as he rubbed a hand through his hair. Glancing into the mirror, he grimaced at his reflection.
He'd lost his nerve.
When in the bloody hell had that ever happened to him before?
"Fucking NEVER, that's when." He muttered to himself, shaking his head in disgust.
In all his years of dating around - well, let's be frank - fucking around, he'd never had this feeling come over him before. Even with Drusilla, who'd supposedly been the love of his life, he'd never felt this way. This insane need to protect someone. To just hold someone and smell their hair, stroke their cheek, gaze into their endlessly green eyes and see love reflected back at him with utter abandon.
Wait a tic.
Love?
Was that what he felt for Buffy?
He sat down on the side of the large, claw-footed bathtub and put his head in his hands. This was all happening much too quickly. He was just supposed to be down here for a few weeks, then back to London where he belonged.
London WAS where he belonged. Where his future was. It's where he was needed.
He paused mid-thought.
Why was it getting harder and harder to convince himself of that fact?
Spike shook his head and started to his feet. Reaching for the doorknob, he stopped. Cocking his head to the side, he listened intently. After waiting for a few seconds and hearing nothing, he shrugged his shoulders and started out of the room.
There it was again!
That breathy little sigh. Where was it coming from?
Closing the door, he made his way back into the bathroom. Listening intently, he followed the sound until it reached an air vent situated in the wall over the towel rack. Placing his ear up to it, he waited.
"Mmm..."
Spike jerked his head back and grimaced. If that was Anya and Xander, he REALLY didn't want to hear this.
"Spike..." Said the whisper-light voice at the other end of the vent.
Spike's eyes widened and he thought rapidly to himself. Xander and Anya's room was on the other side of the hall. The only other room down at this end would have to be...
"Buffy." He murmured, smirking.
He'd just been given a direct line into her bedroom.
Leaning back against the wall he stroked himself through his boxers.
Closing his eyes, he could just picture her... spread out on the bed, nightgown ruched up to her waist, baring her lovely body to the moonlight shining in through her window. She'd trace a hand up her body to-
***
Lightly clutch her breast. Moaning, Buffy slowly lowered the lacy fabric of her nighgown, baring herself to her touch. Bringing a hand up to her mouth, she licked the fingers and brought them back down to her already distended nipple and slowly circled a finger around the areole.
In her fantasy, Spike was beside her in the bed. It was his hand that cupped her breast, his mouth that suckled the nipple.
She breathed heavily through her intense arousal and moved her hand underneath her panties to delve a single finger inside. Arching her hips off the bed, she closed her eyes and invisioned Spike doing this to her.
She added a second finger and cried out at the friction. Rolling her head back and forth on the pillow, she opened her mouth and whimpered out-
***
"Spike, I need you."
Spike's eyes rolled back as he stroked himself furiously. Just listening to her moan his name was almost more than he could bear. He wanted to be in there with her. Tasting her, touching her, loving her...
Listening intently to the whimpers that came through the vent, he closed his eyes and pictured her there with him. Covering him with her hot little hand, or on her knees in front of him, engulfing him in the inferno of her mouth.
He shuddered and squeezed himself tightly to keep from coming at that little bit of imagery. He remembered all to well what it had been like that night.
He wanted to wait this out. Hear every little sigh that came from that pouty red mouth. Listen to her pleasure herself alone in her room, thinking of him, wanting him to push her up against the wall and-
***
fuck her 'til she couldn't stand.
Breathing harshly now, Buffy jammed in a third finger and imagined it was Spike. Filling her, completing her, wanting her...
She moved her hand ferociously, moments away from orgasm. The fantasy was just too intense. He'd lay her back on the bed and spread her legs wide, opening her completely to his touch. He'd bring himself to her entrance and the look in his eyes would be pure lust. Lost to sensation, he wouldn't wait. He wouldn't go slow. He'd thrust into her with a driving force, knocking her head back against the headboard.
Shoving her fingers mercilessly into herself, she imagined he'd tower over her staring straight into her eyes as he pounded into her.
"I love you, Buffy." He'd say.
She closed her eyes and came with a scream.
***
Hearing the loud wail echo through the wall, Spike stroked himself without mercy.
"Fuck, Buffy!" He cried out, coming in short jerky spasms all over the bathroom rug.
Feeling replete, he slouched down the wall until he was in a sitting position on the floor. God, he had to see her. Soon. Thank God Anya and Xander were going out of town tomorrow night. He needed to be alone with her. He had to have her.
Gathering his bearings, he picked himself up off the ground and went to his bedroom to clean up.
He closed the door before hearing Buffy's last breathy murmur.
"I love you, Spike."