Notes/Warnings: Totally inspired by this manip by sueworld2003. *drool*
Disclaimer: Not mine. So very not mine.
She was pouting. Internally, Spike groaned, because he knew she was doing it on purpose to get her way. “Buffy, love, stop. You know what that does to me…”
Hopeful green eyes peered up at him, but the pout didn’t lessen in the slightest. “Is it working?”
Yeah, it is. He growled. “Buffy…”
If anything, her lip quivered out further. “Please, Spike? Please?” Her eyes grew impossibly wide. “I’ll do anything you want in return…”
He ran a hand through his hair, loosening it from the gel and causing curls to form, and sighed heavily. Bloody hell. “Anything?”
Her sulk disappeared instantly into a grin. “Yeah, anything,” she breathed. Her eyes danced over him, and unconsciously she licked her lips. “Anything you want.”
For just a moment, he glared at her, then the possibilities started to fill his mind, and the frown slowly transformed to a smirk. “All right. No goin’ back on your word, though.” He gave her a pointed look when she stuck her tongue out at him. “An’ don’t advertise like that, love, unless you plan to follow through.” He curled his tongue at her for good measure.
“Oh, I’m all follow-through girl.” She grinned at him and leaned back on the bed, resting on her elbows. “So?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Gonna show me?”
“Well, yeah.” Buffy’s eyes glazed slightly. “No time like the present, right?”
He muttered under his breath, but his hand went to his belt anyway.
“No, no!” She jolted up from the bed and batted his hands away. “No, I want to see it all at once, like a surprise.” She bustled him off to the bathroom, grabbing up his leather coat along the way. “Okay?”
“Pushy bint,” he grumbled. Then, when it seemed the pout was to make a reappearance, he quickly amended, “All right, all right, I’m goin’.”
The bathroom door closed on his mumbled complaints, and Buffy settled back on the bed again to wait.
She didn’t have to wait long before Spike poked his head out again. “Ready, pet?”
The brief time in the bathroom had restored his humor. Of course, he’d spent most of it trying to decide just how he was going to take her up on her offer of anything, and that would have taken him out of the foulest mood.
“Oh, yeah, am I ever.” She sat up, watching avidly, and tugging at the hem of her nearly-criminally-short skirt.
He stepped out of the bathroom, swathed in black leather. His duster flowed down his body, the hem swinging just above the tops of his boots. He glanced at her from under his lashes, and saw she was staring at him, mouth slightly open, panting just a bit. Her arousal was almost palpable in the air, and he had to grin.
“You want I should turn on the music for this?”
“No!” Buffy shook her head emphatically, hair flying around her head. “No music!”
His grin widened. “All right, love. No music. I’ll just hum a bit, then.” And he did, a low sound that he knew would go right to her core.
He kinked an eyebrow at her, watching her face pinken. Then, still humming the tune to what was a raunchy song when the lyrics were applied, ever so slowly, he ran a hand down the front flap of his duster, revealing an ever-widening vee of milk-pale skin.
Buffy’s breathing grew harsher at the sight – the pallor of his skin stark against the black leather, the flawless musculature of his chest. “God…” she groaned, but didn’t pull her eyes away.
Tongue curling up over his teeth again, Spike shrugged, and the duster slid down one shoulder, then the other. Moving carefully, keeping one flap of the duster draped over his groin, he pulled the other side back, further and further away from his body, until one of his jutting hipbones was in plain sight.
The duster still swirled around his legs, hiding them from view, but it was already abundantly clear that all he was wearing was the black leather. Nothing else.
Funny thing was, he was getting off on this little play as much as she was.
His plan was to turn around and give her an eyeful of the coat sliding down his back, until it just reached the top of his arse, but he never got the chance. Instead, he found himself with his back against the wall, with Buffy wiggling up against him. Her warm hands delved under the duster, stroking his chest, pinching his nipples, skimming over his abs, following the trail of hair down…
“Oh, Christ!” He bucked up into her firm grasp, eyes rolling back in his head.
“Like that?” she purred, and licked one of his nipples playfully.
“You know I do, kitten,” he managed, before her next slow, sinful stroke reduced his brain to mush.
“Want more?” Hot, open-mouthed kisses against his chest accompanied her words, as her other hand brushed over his flank, caressing the cheeks of his arse. He’d just about remembered how to form words when she slid her fist down his cock once more.
“Buffy… oh, God, yeah… more…”
She slithered down his body, until she was kneeling in front of him, licking her lips. “What do you want me to do, Spike?” she asked, and her warm breath washed over him. “Want me to take your pretty cock in my mouth?” She kissed the tip, but pulled away quickly when he groaned, hips jerking forward.
“Tease,” he growled, but the way he was panting made it seem less fearsome than he would have liked. “Suck me…”
Grinning, she laved her tongue around the tip, then drew back again. “You sure that’s what you want?”
“Yeah, c’mon…” He wove his fingers into her hair, tugging her gently closer.
She bent to it with a will, sucking him with great enthusiasm, one hand squeezing what she couldn’t take into her mouth while the other snuck between his legs to cradle his balls. The sounds of pleasure he made – soft whimpers and cries of her name interspersed with pleas for more – only served to fuel her own excitement. It was only a few minutes before he snarled out a warning, giving her just enough time to brace his hips against the wall before his climax swept over him.
When the shudders stopped running through him, she pulled away, making sure that she cleaned up all of his spending. The moment she wasn’t holding his hips, he slid down the wall to land in a boneless, breathless heap beside her.
She climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and kissing his neck. “See?” and her own breathing was a little labored. “Was that so bad?”
He chuckled roughly, grinning at her, eyes half-closed. “Not at all.”
“I followed through.”
“You did indeed, love.”
“So…” She swirled a fingertip lightly around one of his nipples. “You think I can convince you to do it again?”
He smirked at her, smug satisfaction dancing in his eyes. “You follow through again like that, love, and I can guarantee it.” Then he lifted her off his lap and climbed to his feet.
Once again, Buffy was pouting up at him, but he turned away quickly. “What are you doing?”
He was over at the closet, rummaging through her shoes. “Lookin’ for something.”
“Ah.” He straightened and faced her again, a short charcoal grey trench coat in one hand and a tall pair of black leather boots in the other. “Your turn now.”
She just gaped at him.
He arched his eyebrow at her, and gave her his most lascivious look. “And if you’re good, I’ll follow through.”
June 9, 2007
© randi (K. Shepard), 2007