Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 39: Cold Hands, Warm Heart
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Normally being slammed against the cold stone wall of a tomb would get Spike right pissed. However, since the slammer is his little bundle of Slayer and she has anything but violence on her mind, he is actually quite pleased.

Before he can express any of these thoughts, her mouth has him again. Hot and wet and very very insistent. Spike can feel her tongue dart into his mouth, tasting him, tangling with him. Same with her hands, tangled in his hair, her entire lithe body pressing into him as if she wants to feel his bare skin right through their clothes. Spike is grateful he doesn’t need to breathe because she is not exactly giving him a chance to.

“Oh god, Spike. Right here, right now.” Her voice is rough, urgent. Spike feels her hands scramble on his shirt, yanking it from his jeans.

Not one for modesty, Spike is still slightly surprised. “Here, luv?” He glances around, snapping back to Buffy as her nails skate up his bare back. “You sure?” His hands run down her bare arms, raising goosebumps in their wake. Little did he know his Buffy was a bit of an exhibitionist.

Buffy’s eyes are fully dilated, nearly black as they look up at him. She takes his words, turns them over, softens them as she continues to dive into his gaze. “Never been more sure in my life.” Spike marvels at her ability to draw time to a near standstill just by looking at him like that.

They both remain motionless, hands clutching skin, eyes telegraphing a connection stronger than it would seem possible in such a short time. Buffy’s words hang in the still night air, their certainty unwavering. Finally, Spike’s mouths slowly stretches into a smile.

“Same here, luv. Same here.” Buffy meets him with a small smile of her own.

“So, can we get to the here and the now? The wanting?” The glint is back in her eye, mischief getting back in the driver’s seat for a spin.

“For you, love, anything.” The change in intonation is very subtle, but Buffy picks up on it. Rather than using his typical endearment, a throw-away word, he called her love. His love. She can’t recall hearing him talk that before. Almost poetic. If possible, she wants him naked more than ever. Strange how love and lust stand side by side when it comes to Spike. Each drives her to the other and then back again. The burning feeling that makes her want to touch him is more expansive than mere lust. She doesn’t just want him, she craves him with every inch of her body. Buffy feels like she will combust without his touch. And she wants to stay within arm’s reach forever, stay with him forever, love him always. And the love, the softness in his eyes, the gentle turn of his hand makes her want to strip him naked in any setting. Love and lust all tied up in one luscious package.

Buffy’s hands move faster, desperately unfastening Spike’s shirt, but trying not to ruin another one by ripping it. Finally, she has her hands on his bare skin, glowing silver in the moonlight. She whips her own tank top over her head, wanting that skin to skin contact more than ever. Buffy’s need to absorb him in every possible way before...before whatever happens tomorrow reaches a nearly manic level. She dives in for another searing kiss.

Spike’s hands caress her back, playing with the straps of her bra, but not yet removing it. Her mouth on his is pure bliss, softness and warmth, tenderness and passionate fury all wrapped up in the force of this kiss. His hands slide up her back, one drags the band off her ponytail and they both slide into her glossy blond hair. The silken strands slip through his fingers, impossibly soft, a light floral scent rising to his nose. Spike can’t help thinking that even the smell of the Slayer’s bloody shampoo makes him hard. Of course, the things she is doing with her hands might have something do with that, too.

The kiss breaking, Spike tries to look at Buffy’s face, but it is mostly cast in shadow. Somehow, he can’t stand it. He wants to see her. He cuts his eyes to the right and left before finding the perfect spot.

“Come with me, pet.”

A pout instantly clouds Buffy’s face. Not touching Spike is of the bad, and he is moving away. Spike’s hand is holding hers tightly and gently tugs her to the right to follow him. His open shirt flapping behind him, Spike leads her to a low tomb. Out from under the trees, it is bathed in the light of the nearly half moon shining down on them. Hard stone grays are struck blue and silver in this night, making the cemetery seem otherworldly. Spike turns back to the tiny woman clutching his hand with her supernatural strength. Clutching as if she will never let go, a feeling that squeezes his heart just a bit too tight for comfort.

Buffy reads his intentions immediately. Both the Slayer and the vampire reach out with their senses and find no adversaries in the area. It should be safe to be so much in the open. Spike stops by the tomb, pulls her by the hand up against him. The rough fabric of his jeans rubs against Buffy’s bare stomach and she also feels the telltale sign that he is more than ready to go. She smiles a small satisfied smile at how much and how often he wants her. Vampire constitution is right up there with Slayer constitution. Spike takes their still clasped hands up to his mouth, tongue gently grazing her knuckles, followed by his lips. Buffy feels her knees go weak as his eyes burn into her. How can they want so badly? So often? Why is it that having him does nothing to lessen her need for him? If anything, it makes it grow and grow until she can’t stand a room that he is not in. Buffy decides the time for questions is not this moment. Spike’s other arm goes around her waist and lifts her. Turning in one motion, he sets her down on the tomb. Startled by how cold it is, Buffy jumps a little. His eyebrows knit in concern. “Too cold, love?” So, that is his woor hor her now. No more slang, not luv, but actual love. Buffy fights the need to shiver, but the stone is coming right through her thin workout pants. Biting her lip, she nods a little.

“But it’s okay. It’s fine.” Spike shakes his head.

“No, pet. Won’t have you shivering.” Spike releases and and whips off his shirt quickly. Buffy takes a deep breath at the sensual movement of his muscles, arms and abs rippling in a most tempting fashion. The incredible ivory smoothness of his skin literally gleams in the flood of moonlight that surrounds them. He folds the shirt over several times to make it thicker and then sets it on the surface of the tomb right next to her. Buffy squeals as Spike lifts her off her rear and slides the shirt underneath. The shirt makes a huge difference. Plus, now her view of Spike’s naked torso is unobstructed. She can’t help thinking that in a few minutes, the coldness of the stone will be the last thing on her mind.
“And they say chivalry is dead.” She pauses, thinking. “Maybe it’s just undead.” Buffy giggles and Spike can’t help but chuckle.

“Oh, Slayer. You are too bloody much.” He steps forward to stand between her legs, resting his hands on her thighs. Buffy smiles up at him as one hand lifts to trail down her cheek slowly.

Her hands return to their previous location. Spike realizes she already has his pants unbuttoned and unzipped. “Now, where were we?” Her warm hand slides into his pants and around his very hard cock, making Spike jump a little. “Ah yes, right here.” Her tongue dances out to touch her top lip as she tilts her head to the side, studying him. Her hand begins to move up and down on his cock slowly, making Spike’s eyes roll back in his head. He realizes that he couldn’t care less if a crowd of demons pulled up chairs and watched them go at it while eating popcorn. Nothing is going to stop this little outdoor adventure.

Spike’s hands grab the waist of her pants and pull. Hard. Buffy gasps as he lifts her off the tomb to get them over her rear end. Before she can react, he moves back and they are off and tossed over his shoulder. Goosebumps cover her exposed skin, partly from the slight chill in the air and partly from him. He just makes her want to…do things.

Spike glances down, as he realizes the Slayer is bare-assed on his shirt. His eyes widen slightly. He forgot that she didn’t bother with underwear when they left tonight. The reminder is pleasant, indeed. Meeting her eyes, he finds that her smile has reached all the way into her hazels, warming them. With a muted growl, Spike steps closer, yanking her against him. Buffy’s legs snake around his hips, rubbing up and down. Her hand goes back to his cock, stroking lightly as the other pushes on his loosened jeans.

Spike slides a hand between them, rubbing lightly at her folds, amazed at how wet she is. Of course, she always gets aroused after a good fight. He’s known that for years. Just never got to be on the receiving end until very recently. Well, receiving end of the fight, sure, just not this part. His thumb circles her clit, lightly grazing it, feeling Buffy stiffen every time. His index finger seeks the center of her warmth, sliding in slowly. He feels the pace of her hand on his cock quicken along with her heartbeat. A second finger and then a third join the first, sliding in and out of her tight channel at the same pace as she strokes him. Spike leans forward, his mouth finding her neck. Planting soft, open-mouth kisses, he teases her skin. Buffy leans into him as well, her breaths short and hot against his bare chest. Her tongue dances out to trace around a nipple before lightly nipping at it. He flinches slightly, and feels his cock go even harder than he thought possible. Buffy’s hand releases his pulsing cock, and both hands slides up the contours of his chest before meeting at the nape of his neck, just the fingertips pushing into his hair. She kisses over his chest, leaving little nips all over it as she moves up to his neck. Spike strains to keep stroking in and out of her with his hand. He feels her body start to tighten on his hand, her breathing fast and erratic.

“Oh god, Spike. Oh god!” She pants out the words, fingers digging into the back of his neck. Her mouth reaches up for his, moist warm lips pressing into his. He stops teasing and begins pressing his thumb into her clit hard on each entrance. Buffy’s entire body feels like it is on fir she she comes, the waves of sensation hitting hard and fast. Breaking their kiss, Buffy throws her head back and screams his name at the top of her lungs, her entire body convulsing around his hand. When Spike feels the spasms begin to slow, he tweaks her clit, eliciting a sharp cry from the panting Slayer. She straightens up slightly, her hands still wrapped loosely around his neck. Spike slowly pulls his fingers out from inside her when he is sure she is paying attention. Eyes glazed, cheeks flushed pink, Buffy starts at the sensation of emptiness. She watches Spike’s hand move up to his mouth with fascination. He slides his index finger into his mouth, sucking it clean, then follows suit with the other two. Tongue darting out, he licks around them thoroughly. And slowly. Buffy finds herself licking her own lips as he grins at her. Before he can make any kind of comment, he finds herself suddenly pulled against a very sweaty, very aroused Slayer. Her legs grip his hips as one hand grabs the back of his neck and the other his fully erect cock.

“Spike. Now. Don’t make me get out Mr. Pointy.” The threat is hollow, but her grip on his cock is firm.

“That’s my girl, alright. Knows what she bloody well wants.” Spike’s hands go to her thighs, spreading them wider. Taking a grip on her hips, Spike lets Buffy guide him to her entrance. Spike leans into a k bit biting at her bottom lip as he drives into her with one slow and solid thrust. Buffy’s squeak is swallowed by their kiss as her still sensitive skin is newly awakened. Over and over, he enters her and she feels it all. His hands, slightly rougher than her own, skating over her skin. The cool night air, lightly scented with grass and some night blooming flower. The moonlight, illuminating them, illuminating him without any warmth. The hushed sound of skin against skin, of far off cicadas. With a sudden rush, Buffy is pulled away from the sounds and sensations beyond them, her focus narrowed to just him. Filling her completely, physically and in other ways she did not dare consider. His mouth tastes hers and she tries to memorize the dance of his tongue, the way he traces her lips lightly before thrusting inside. The pressure of his lips to hers, building as their coupling intensifies. The sensations are acute almost to the point of pain. Her heart aches, her body throbs, her skin burns. All for him.

“Spike. Oh, Spike. I do love you.” Her mouth is next to his ear, her voice soft and breathy, tickling his skin. He almost stops completely at her unexpected declaration. No matter how many times she declares her love, he never gets tired of hearing it or surprised at how true it is, how good it feels. She moves back to meet his eyes.

“Buffy, love, you are the only one for me. I love you, too.” His smile is not as cocky as usual, hers in return is somewhat tremulous. Neither one is willing to dance near the topic that weighs on them both. Tomorrow night and the fate of their love.

Buffy tightens her legs against him, reminding Spike of their current situation. “Didn’t mean to stop, though, sweetie.” Her successful attempt at levity draws them back to the moment at hand.

Spike renews his pace, picking up where they left off after grinning down at her. His hands slide up to release her breasts from the slip of a bra she was wearing. He catches one nipple in his mouth, causing Buffy to twitch, moaning softly. The other nipple goes hard at the cold and the sensation. As Spike thrusts harder, he kisses across her breasts and up along her collarbone. He splays one hand across her back, holding her to him as he drives home over and over. He starts to feel his impending climax, wishing he could hold it off longer. But her effect on him is so overwhelming, so intense, he’s lucky he doesn’t come every time she looks at him. His other hand goes between them, lightly tweaking her clit in time with the thrusts.

Just when Buffy thinks she can’t feel anything more intense, she feels his hands on her clit again. Her whole body lifts off the stone, arching against him, hard, driving his cock even deeper and clenching it with her inner walls. Spike growls and leans into her, pushing Buffy’s back down and against the cold stone. Her skin just about his only contact. Spike’s hands come down on either side of her, his burning eyes pinning her to the surface. Harder and faster, he thrusts, nailing her clit every time until she wants to scream from the strength of the feeling. Scream to stop before she bursts and scream to please never ever stop. Instead, she just screams as she comes again, the furious reaction sending Spike through to his climax with a guttural growl. They move together for several moments afterwards, their bodies clinging, their skin hot and slick.

Buffy sits up, wrapping her arms around her lover with all the strength she can muster in her boneless state. Murmuring her name over and over, Spike plants light kisses over her shoulders.

And in that position, naked and sweaty, sated and tender, the Slayer and the vampire fall just a bit harder in love and each wish fervently that this particular night would never end.


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Author's Note: Sorry for the longer delay, folks. I've been working on another fic, which I may post here as well. In the meantime, hope you enjoy this chapter and leave me some feedback! ;) Thanks for the support ! -Tiana