Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 27: Missing
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Buffy grins back at him. This is the Spike she was waiting for. His hands go around her, sliding up and under her shirt. The touch is gentle, dancing up her spine. As they always seem to when Spike lays his hands on her, goosebumps spread all over her skin. His hands move higher and she can feel all ten fingers press into her hot skin.

His eyes are hard on hers, the playfulness replaced by something more powerful. The fierceness of their wanting makes her skin heat, her cheeks flush. Buffy’s fingers release his ass, moving within the tight circle of his arms to reach the front of his shirt. The fabric is crisp and cool, fine under her fingertips.

Spike dips his head, moving his face closer to hers. She can see the deep blue of his eyes, flecks of gold flickering there. Under her hands, she feels the low rumble in his chest, a growl. Now that their love has been re-confirmed, his craving for her is multiplied and magnified to the point of near-combustion. Spike spent the last hours before sunrise as restless as Buffy. He woke up, missing the warmth of her body, the taste of her in his mouth. Pacing his crypt, running his fingers through his hair over and over until it stood up on end, he worked himself up into a frenzy. His love for her had only grown stronger in the time she was away from his side. But she had gone out into the daylight. To the world he is not a part of. To the friends that don’t like him. What if she decided it was all a big mistake? The thought of never having her again was almost too much to bear alone in his dark crypt. But she had looked at him, truly looked at him with those sea green eyes and told him. She loved him. As crazy it was that they had fallen for each other, he had to try and believe it was going to last. When the sun finally dipped behind the trees, he had been out of the door like a shot, to confirm his fears or confirm their love.

Thankfully, it was the latter. Spike’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. His gaze drops to her mouth then back to her eyes. There they are, those green depths he had dreamt about and the look was there. The one that penetrated him, made him feel his heart try to beat. Finally, their lips lightly touch. Both squeeze their eyes shut a little harder, the contact a welcome salve to a long afternoon. The kiss grows deeper, tongues diving and tasting. Buffy’s fingers begin to work the buttons of Spike’s shirt even as they kiss longer and harder. So anxious from the anticipation, her hands shake, each button a struggle. Their kiss breaks and Spike’s mouth dives to her neck, suckling and kissing his way up to her ear. Buffy tries to look at the buttons to ease her difficulty. A tiny growl of frustration slips out and Spike’s head pops up in surprise.

“Uh, Buffy? Luv?” His blue eyes are wide, thrown off track briefly. “Did you just....growl?”

Buffy’s eyebrows knit together tightly as she continues to try and undo a button. “Yeah, so? You growl. All the time. You growl when you’re hungry, when you’re tired, when you can’t get a jar open!”

“Don’t forget horny, pet. I do it then, too, But hey, vampire here. Kinda my thing. But you...”

She snaps her hips to his, sparks flashing. How dare a piece of fabric and little pieces of plastic keep her away from his body. “Is it a problem?”

The smile is slow and she remembers how he can give her shivers just by looking at her a certain way. This certain way. “No, luv. Rather liked it, to tell you the truth.”

Buffy bites into her bottom lip. “Spike? If we can find them all, I’ll fix it, okay?” Not giving him a chance to answer, Buffy takes ahold of the two sides of Spike’s shirt and rips them wide open. Buttons go flying through the air in every direction. Spike’s mouth, open to answer her, snaps closed again. Guess she meant the buttons...and the shirt. He looks down, still smiling.

“That’s...three shirts by my count, Slayer. Looks like you’re doing some sewing...or shopping.”

Buffy slaps his bare chest. “Three?” Her nose wrinkles in concentration. She begins to count off with her fingers. “Okay, this one. Plus the one that first night. Never did locate all those buttons....but three?”

“T-shirt. In the crypt. Ripped up the middle? A nice black dishrag now.”

Buffy giggles. “Oh yeah. I forgot. Forgive me?” She looks up at him through her eyelashes, blinking slowly. “I can...make it up to you.” Her fingers slide down Spike’s alabaster chest, letting her fingernails drag a bit, leaving pink trails down his muscled body.

“What did you have in mind?” Spike’s hands rub down her back, sliding inside the waistband of her shorts. Buffy gasps, trying to keep the ability to speak while his cool hands take a grip on her ass.

“Why don’t I just show you? I‘m more with the showing than the telling, y‘know?” Buffy’s fingers curl into the front of Spike’s jeans, tucking the tips inside his waistband. She feels him flinch, her warm touch sending tendrils of warmth through his belly.

Spike laughs, the sound rich and deep. “Sounds go-” Before he can finish his comment, Buffy’s mouth is on his. Lucky for him he doesn’t need to breathe. Her movements are lightning fast and he thanks whoever is looking over him for this tiny bundle of energy in his arms. Her soft lips slam into his, forcing them open immediately. Her tongue grabs his, twisting and tangling. Recovering quickly, Spike matches the force of her kiss. His near-combustion from waiting to see Buffy again has not truly been quenched. He starts to wonder if this is the kind of thirst that can ever be quenched. Having her only makes him want her more.

It suddenly occurs to Buffy and Spike that they are both wearing way too many clothes. In a flailing frenzy of limbs and laughter, they manage to disentangle each other from their clothes. Buffy breathes a sigh of relief as she feels Spike’s cool skin against hers. Finally.

In the course of undressing each other, they’ve ended up on Buffy’s bed in a heap, clothes strewn around them. Speed, not neatness, was of the essence. Buffy rolls on top of Spike, covering him with her petite body. Taking ahold of his head with both hands, she grins and brings her mouth back down to his. The kiss is light and gentle, little pecks at first. As Buffy’s fingers dig into Spike’s hair, the kiss grows stronger. Spike grabs her waist and pulls, rolling on top of her. The clutching and kissing regains its fury, the lust taking them past all boundaries of patience. They silently agree that they have to satisfy this before anything else. With a squeeze of her thighs, Buffy takes Spike over again, putting her on top. She giggles and they stop kissing just long enough for Spike to meet her eyes. His eyes twinkle in the dark room and his voice breaks the quiet. “Slayer.”

Buffy feigns ignorance. “Yes, Spikey?”

“You as ges get what you want, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And what is it you want? To be on top?” Spike tries to sound stern, but the laughter is creeping in.

“On top of you, yeah.”

“Y’know, you could just tell me instead of bloody flippin’ me ’til I’m dizzy.”

“I told you, silly vamp. I like to show, not tell.”

“You mean, like this?” Spike wraps his arms around Buffy and rolls them quickly, placing himself on top. Before he can react, she has them rolling again...and then... *THUMP*

Silence.

“Oww.” Entangled in the bedclothes and now on the floor, Buffy rubs her head.

“Oww yourself, luv. I broke your fall!”

Buffy’s eyes light up as she examines Spike’s position. “And look, I’m still on top!”

“Bloody hell, woman. Just come here.” Again, the mock sternness quickly dissolves as their lips meet. Buffy leans down and presses her length against Spike, shoving the comforter out of the way so they are connected top to bottom. “Well, this is alright. Maybe I’ll let you stay on top, then.” He cracks a lop-sided smile, loving the way he can push her buttons.

“Oooh, you! Let me? That’s it. No mercy.” Buffy locks onto his eyes, those eyes that melt her from the inside out. The smile fades from her eyes to be replaced by a soft tenderness. She has him, right where she wants him. The tenderness quickly turns to lust. It takes mere seconds to rev their motors right back up to overdrive. Buffy’s mouth drops toward Spike’s mouth, but takes a sudden detour to his neck. Spike can feel her hot breath against his skin just before moist lips press there. He slides his eyes closed. God, she does know what he likes. She nibbles down his neck, licking and sucking the length before dropping a kiss in the hollow at the base. Spike’s hands come to rest on her waist, bracing himself for more. Buffy feels a surge of arousal race through her and realizes she may not be able to take this slow. Enough. She needs him. Her heart pounds. She is soaking wet and knows he is more than ready. With a steady hand and a shimmy of her hips, Buffy guides Spike’s rock-hard cock to her entrance. His eyes open to land on hers again, her warm hand bringing him into her blazing heat. She slides onto him, slowly, watching every muscle twitch in his jaw, feeling his hands tighten on her waist. Finally, she is home. Filled and connected. Buffy exhales in relief. The hours between this connection were too long. Spike struggles not to move for a few minutes, letting himself feel her, letting the languid warmth seep into his entire body, loosening his joints, softening his skin. The next kiss is deep, long and breathless.

She begins to move. A small amount at first, just a bit up and back down. The pace increases, building momentum. She wants more. Harder. Faster. Buffy drives down on him over and over, gasping into their kisses, grasping at him with her small hands. Spike’s eyes glaze over for a moment. She is all-encompassing. The gentle scent of her soap mixing with her salty sweat and the musk of arousal. She surrounds him with scent and pleasure and heat until he begins to feel that sense of near-combustion again.

Buffy bites his ear, not letting up in her rhythm, rolling her hips into his with Slayer strength. Her breath tickles him as she whispers, “Your turn.”

The throaty growl startles them both. Spike is on top before Buffy can take another breath, driving into her like a jackhammer. Buffy moans in pleasure, the sensation of him entering her with such power dissolving her limbs into jelly. He is bracing herself on either side of her head, coming within fractions of an inch of her face with each thrust. Just letting their lips graze on each pass. Making sure he can see her do it, Buffy drags her own hands down her chest, running them over and around her breasts. Spike bites into his lip, his eyes darting from her hands to her face. Just when he thought he could not come closer to completely losing control, she does this. Lays her hands on that taut little body right in front of him. Buffy’s mouth is open a little, her tongue poking out to wet her lips. Her hands meet just above the site of their joining. Spike cannot easily see her actions, but her face tells him everything. As her fingers work below, her breath comes in bursts. Despite this new distraction, Spike does not stop driving home into her sweet depths. He is very close to coming and he sees that she is well on her way. One of Buffy’s arms shoots up to grab the back of Spike’s neck, slowing him briefly. She brings his forehead to hers, letting their eyes meet. Buffy’s entire body stiffens as she inhales sharply. Spike feels her muscles contract over hick ack and he lets go completely, coming hard within the tight circle of her arm. They both witness the emotion and sensation careen across the other’s face as orgasm disintegrates their control and finally brings the release they crave.

Minutes later, locked in each other’s arms, Buffy sighs contentedly. She murmurs in Spike’s ear as she grows sleepy, “Mm, missed you. Missed this.” Her kiss is tender and gentle and it breaks Spike into a million satisfied pieces as he pulls her tight against him.


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Author's Note: Reviews? Thanks! -Ti