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Author's Chapter Notes:
eventually dark, angsty, underage sex, increasing levels of kink, and utterly unrealistic demands on Spike’s stamina :) it will * remain consensual *. I’ll try to mark any special kink warnings on a chapter-by-chapter basis.

beta'd by the lovely goddessofmercy

I almost fell into that hole in your life,
You weren’t thinking bout tomorrow,
Cause you were the same as me,
But on your knees…
--Goo Goo Dolls' Black Balloon
~*~*~*~

Buffy was kind of glad, in a way, that the week was almost over. She slid her eyes to Spike in the driver’s seat, singing along to the radio with his usual abandon, this time to the Ramones. It was so cute when he did that. Don’t get her wrong, she loved spending time at the Turners’ all day, with Spike and with Jackson. But was it just her, or had Spike been veerrrry touchy-feely this week? After she’d nearly kissed Spike in the car yesterday, Buffy’d had an emergency conference call with Faith and Cordy, friends who had sort of adopted her out of pity towards the end of the school year. Spike had just been so close, and smelled so very yummy…but she’d jerked away at the last moment, thank God, because she really didn’t want to lose her job over a silly crush.

Faith and Cordy had been of a different opinion, however. “Oh, please,” Cordy had declared, an eye roll evident in her tone, “he’s totally closing in on you. No guy does the inside handle-pull unless he’s trying to crowd your space and get in your pants.”

“Gotta go with the prom queen on this one, B. This guy’s been pervin’ on you since day one. I say go for it. Find out if the guy’s got as much imagination between the sheets as he does between the pages.”

Buffy had brushed off the advice. Cordy and Faith oozed sexual confidence in a way she never would. She liked sex alright, it had just never been the all-consuming passion she’d expected, from the movies.

And besides, her friends had to be wrong. She’d seen the guy with his wife. He was totally ga-ga over her, still, even though he’d once told Buffy that they’d been together since they were her age. Anyway, Buffy was nothing special, would never be able to hold someone’s interest that long. Hell, as soon as she’d found out she was moving, her boyfriend Angel had broken it off, saying he couldn’t do the distance thing. That it would be too hard and they’d never see each other. Translation: Angel would be forced to be celibate, and Buffy wasn’t worth it.

“So, pet, what are you up to for the weekend?” Spike asked. The girl was awfully quiet, nervous, and that would never do.

Buffy shrugged. “Nothing much.” She unbuckled Jackson from his car seat and followed Spike inside, studying the unseasonably warm cloudless sky. “Maybe head with the girls down to the beach. You know, typical summer bumminess.”

Spike got a startlingly clear image of Buffy lying on the beach in a string bikini, pale skin glistening with coconut oil. Wasn’t that a lovely picture. He followed her into the kitchen and stood by casually as she gathered Jackson’s breakfast.

“What, no boyfriend to spoil you with dinner and drive you out to the woods to neck?” he asked casually. Not that he really cared, one way or the other, but it would make things a little easier if she were single.

Buffy settled herself at the table beside Jackson’s high chair and began to spoon baby food to the boy. She let out a self-deprecating little laugh. Sore point, then. “Nope, no boyfriend. Not anymore.” Excellent.

“Find that hard to believe,” he commented. Spike sat catty-corner at the table, gazing at her assessingly, making it obvious that he was watching her. Their knees brushed.

“Yeah. Well, you know…I just moved…” She gave him a thin half-smile, one corner of her mouth still looking troubled.

Spike smiled at her, wanting to melt that brave front away. “Beautiful girl like you, must have plenty of suitors. Bet you’ve got a whole herd of pups pantin’ after you.”

She pinkened from embarrassment and pleasure at the compliment, ducking her head a bit. How edible. “No,” she demurred.

“Fools,” he said with conviction, and meant it. Jackson was twisting his head, refusing more food. Buffy wiped his mouth and set him in the bouncing chair suspended in the doorframe.

Spike followed her into the kitchen and watched her clean up. She had the grace of youth, even when she was self-conscious, as she was now. He caged her against the sink with his arms, body just barely brushing against hers. Her shoulders were just a bit tensed, nervous. His voice was low. “Those boys are too young to know what to do with a stunning creature like you.”

She turned in the V of his arms and looked up into the eyes that were studying her intensely. She meant to push him away, but…he was so pretty.

And then those electric eyes fixed on her lips, and she couldn’t breath for a moment as he leaned in. His mouth was soft on hers. God, he was kissing her. His lips were firm and persuasive as they urged hers apart and then there was the strong slip-slide of a muscular tongue against her own. He tasted like coffee. He was an amazing kisser, not choking her with his tongue like Parker, not vacillating between hesitant nibbles and a hard mash of lips as Angel always had. Instead, Spike kept a steady firm pressure with his tongue and lips, and now his hands were on her hips gripping her possessively. God.

He pinned her further to the counter with his hips and Buffy could feel the full denim-covered erection pressing rocking against her through the thin material of her skirt. More moisture flood her panties, and her heart was racing. Spike bent slightly at the knees and slid his warm hands up her bare thighs, gathering the knee-length linen skirt almost at her waist as he palmed her ass-cheeks and began to knead them rhythmically. She felt breathless and hot and a little overwhelmed at his directness. She was accustomed to the games that high school boys played, where positions were advanced by inches and a long entrenchment at each new stage was likely. Spike wasn’t playing by those rules at all.

Spike groaned and thrust upward against her panties, using the give in his knees to rub himself between her buckling legs. A needy little noise slipped from her mouth to his. God, she’d never felt this hot before. She was burning up.

The baby gurgled, and the noise somehow anchored her back to reality. She pushed against him and tore her mouth away to say, “Stop, Spike, stop. You’re married.” She felt a little sick. Her dad had left them for a younger woman, and here she was, pressed against him just like that home-wrecking slut.

But Spike didn’t stop. Instead he continued those mind-melting thrusts and nibbled along her jawline, up to her ear. His voice was deep and husky and part moan as he rubbed himself against her. “Ohhh, God, Buffy. Don’t worry bout Dru, luv. We have her blessing.”

The deep vibrations against her ear sent another shock of heat curling through her, overpowering the sick feeling. She struggled to make sense of his words. “…Blessing?” she panted, confused. She pushed at him again and this time he stilled and pulled back slightly, hands braced against the counter.

“Dru and me, we have what you call an open marriage,” he explained. Buffy was beautiful against him, all flushed and disheveled, breathing hard and frowning just a bit in confusion. “Our hearts belong to the marriage, but we’re free to sleep with other people as long as we let the other know about it.”

“You cheat on her?” Buffy’s voice was a little accusatory. Baggage there. Spike shook his head.

“No, luv, not cheating. Arrangement was her idea in the first place, I probably would have been fine without it. But my Dru, she’s…she needs the novelty. Better for us, really. Fought a lot less after we started up like this, things got tense for a bit. It only works because we trust each other.”

Buffy’s face was smoothing out from confused to thoughtful, when an obviously mortifying idea struck her.

“You mean…Dru knows…” she looked horrified at the thought of his wife knowing about his naughty intentions for the girl. It was too sweet. He smiled at her, trailed a finger lightly from her collarbone down towards her cleavage. She shivered, and he could still smell how aroused she was. His cock throbbed in response.

“Yes, she knows.” Spike left out the part where Dru had actually intended her for this purpose from the beginning. Making a girl feel like a hired whore was never the best way to get in her knickers. “She’s fine with it,” he continued mildly. Buffy’s breath hitched as he cupped her breast through her tank top, plucking at her nipple roughly.

They needed to be horizontal. Now. Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the living room.

She paused in the doorway. “Jackson…”

“Will be fine. Babies don’t need to be stared at every second of the day, pet. And we’re not going far.”

Spike guided her onto the wide cushions of the sofa and kissed her reassuringly. Pulling away, he braced one knee between her calves, and skimmed his fingers up her thighs, gathering the skirt around her waist. He could see just the slightest hint of her white cotton panties. Spike nudged her knees apart and settled his weight on top of her, petting the length of her body with open palms. She was breathing heavily and her golden hair was fanned out against the black leather of the sofa.

“You’re breathtaking,” Spike murmured as he nibbled along her neck, giving her sweet words that weren’t hard to say, since she was. Buffy’s hips canted up against his own as he drew his teeth over her soft earlobe, pierced but unadorned. He groaned at the friction against his hard-on, and kissed her roughly. Spike slid his fingers under the hem of her top and ran his hands up her sides, urging her to sit up for a moment as he pulled the garment over her head.

She had perfect tits, and he’d seen his share. She was wearing a bra today, a white one that cupped the underside in satin and offered a peek across the top with delicate lace. Buffy was shifting, uncomfortable and self-conscious under his appraisal. “Perfect,” he murmured and scraped his teeth along her shoulder as he kneaded both breasts through the material, running his thumbs over the hardening nipples. Bloody hell, this girl…

He eased her back onto the couch and lifted each mound from the bra, tucking the fabric beneath them. Her nipples were rosy pink and half-erect and he bent his head and sucked roughly on one. She made sexy little noises as his teeth tugged at her nipple and he rubbed his erection against her thin panties.

Spike rolled onto one arm, unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down a little so he could rub against her covered only by his boxers, his cock trying to push through the fly. He moaned and sucked on her other tit. She was so fucking wet, he could feel the slip-sliding damp of it through two layers of cotton, and the sensation was heavenly. She was writhing beneath him, moaning his name, and he was so fucking turned on that he had a violent full-body shudder as she slipped her hands under his collar and scraped her manicured nails lightly down his back. The t-shirt was damp with sweat, so he sat up and pulled it over his head, enjoying the naked want in her green eyes as she looked at his body.

He settled himself back onto her soft curves, mouth toying with her breasts, her collarbone, her ear, any piece of flesh that took his fancy. She drew in an unsteady breath and shifted restlessly as he trailed his fingers lightly along her inner thigh, teasing the soft skin along her panty line until she was rolling her hips against nothing. He sucked on the mildly salty skin at the juncture of shoulder and throat and slipped his fingers sideways beneath the cotton. She moaned and jumped a little, already super-sensitized when he began to stroke her clit. She was so wet. Spike slipped two fingers inside, and she was slick and tight and hot. He fingered her with increasing speed, frigging her clit with his thumb and she was keening, writhing, thrusting up against his hand.

Fuck. God bless Dru.

Spike nipped his way down her tight stomach and kneeled to slip her panties off, resettling himself lower on the couch. When he pushed up her skirt and brushed his mouth teasingly against her outer lips, Buffy stiffened a little and Spike saw that she looked a little flustered with embarrassment. It occurred to him that maybe no one had ever done this to her before. Well then, good thing he’d had his share of practice.

Buffy’s bashfulness was quickly forgotten as Spike began to flick his tongue rapidly over her clit and finger her pussy. She had been close to coming earlier from his hand that her clit was really swollen. He sucked on it, anticipating the buck of her hips against his face. Buffy gripped his hair with a trembling “Jesus! Ohhh, God, Spike…it’s…you’re…” He resumed the circular pattern on her clit with his tongue. She was rolling her hips against his face and Spike was thrusting against the cushions through his boxers, desperately needing some friction.

Spike rubbed her swollen g-spot inside and Buffy bowed, taken by surprise. She was so close, he could feel little contractions around his fingers and he looked up to see her flushed and restless, one hand buried in her hair, head thrown back, the other on her breast, tugging at her nipple. Fuck, this girl was killing him. She was trembling like a leaf and Spike buried his face deeper in her pussy and began to fuck her frantically with his tongue, working her clit with his thumb.

With a sob and a gush she came, and he pulled back, out of breath, fingering her and watching her flushed pretty face as she rode the orgasm out. Spike’s hands shook as he shoved his boxers to his knees and rolled on the condom he’d stuffed in his pocket this morning with gleeful hope. The day had not disappointed him.

Buffy’s eyes rolled lazily open and she gave him a dazzling smile. He grinned back—how could he not? He kissed her greedily, face still messy from going down on her, and she made a little sound as she rubbed her tongue against his.

Spike settled himself on top of her, lined up his cock, and pulled back to study her with heavy eyes.

“You taste bloody fantastic, luv. God, I’m hurting to be in you.” Buffy pulled her knees up against her body in invitation and he pressed forward. She looked…trusting, and open. He had the fleeting thought that he could get addicted to that look. Then she crossed her ankles behind him, and he was sliding into her, and he forgot about it.

Spike was glad he was wearing a condom because otherwise he’d be done already. She made him so hot, moaning and panting beneath him as he rocked shallowly, stretching her. Spike began to thrust deeper and Buffy clung to his back as he found g-spot and stimulated it repeatedly. With his cock fully seated, Spike ground his hips against her still-sensitive clit. “God!” she exclaimed, and somehow Spike retained enough of a sense of humor to snicker and reply cheekily, “Feel free to worship me all you like, pet.”

Then he coiled into himself and began thrusting hard and fast into her, and she was babbling incoherently, moaning in punctuation with the movements. They were radiating heat, slick with sweat and sticking to the couch. Mindlessly, he kept up the punishing pace, almost violent but so so good and he was close. Buffy came with powerful contractions, scoring his shoulders with her nails in a bid to hold on, and Spike shot his load into the condom. The full body throb just went on and on, until he finally collapsed onto her, limp as an old rag.

Jesus fucking Christ. He hadn’t come like that since he and Dru were young. He and Buffy lay panting for a long while. After a time, Spike felt her body shaking and rocking against his. He looked up, terrified that she was crying, only to find her mouth stretched wide in a grin, eyes shut tight in silent laughter.

“Oi, what are you gigglin’ about?” Spike asked her defensively. At the question, a real belly laugh burst forth, Buffy’s whole body quaking with it. The utter joy and surprise in the sound made him grin, then chuckle along, and soon they were both helpless with laughter. He knew what this was, it happened to Dru sometimes. If he got her really good in the sack, the flood of endorphins was so great that she would laugh and laugh. It never failed to set Spike off with laughter himself.

Eventually they wound down, still buoyed lightly by the fit. “I take it you enjoyed yourself then, luv?” He grinned down at her. She looked sated and sweet.

“God, it was…incredible. My fingers are tingling,” she gushed, stumbling over her choice of words. Spike barked a laugh and preened a little at the compliment. Bird must have hyperventilated before orgasm, made the extremities numb. He’d done good. “I’d never…I’ve never…” She laughed giddily.

Spike stilled and stared at her. “That wasn’t…pet, that wasn’t your first time, was it?”

“No!” Buffy exclaimed quickly. “No, I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never…um…” How she could look embarrassed after what they’d done was beyond him. But she was young, he supposed. “I’ve never had an orgasm.”

Spike was a little gobsmacked. “Never? Not even by yourself?”

Buffy blushed, which he found endearing. “I’ve never, um, done that. It’s kind of weird for a girl, don’t you think?”

He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t even think to assure her that it was not, in fact, ‘weird.’ Spike had just given this girl her first orgasms. Monstrous ones, too, by the feel of them. No wonder she’d had a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Christ, even Dru, who was young when they’d taken up together, hadn’t come to him this…fresh.

Spike felt a rush of heady power and pride at the knowledge that he had made her feel something new and special. He kissed her lingeringly.

“’M gonna go check on the baby,” he murmured, and stood up. Pulling off the condom and knotting it, he stumbled a little over his pants before pulling them up and buttoning them. Jesus, he’d been in such a hurry to fuck her that he hadn’t even taken off his shoes. Spike chuckled a little at his own foolishness as he tossed the condom in the garbage and rinsed his hands. Hoisting Jackson up, he planted gleeful kisses all over the baby’s face and downy head until the boy giggled. Christ, he felt incredibly good, relaxed and sated. He plunked the baby back in his chair, and the boy squealed a little in delight at the bouncing motion.

Spike was smiling as he went back into the living room, and his blood ran warm again at the sight of Buffy, still lying limp and uncovered where he had left her, eyes closed blissfully. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth. She looked fantastically debauched, by him. Her skirt was still bunched around her waist, her breasts bare above the underwire bra, her limbs happily thrown askew.

It made Spike want to pick up the game all over again, but it was already getting late in the day and he had a deadline to meet. He gathered her discarded clothing and sat by her hip on the edge of the cushion. She opened those pretty green eyes and blinked at him sleepily, stretching.

“Gorgeous,” he declared softly and pressed a chaste kiss to the swell of her breast. He lay her tank top and panties on her stomach and smoothed down her skirt. “Alright, luv, I need to go earn my keep, and Jackson needs lunch.” He smiled at her wistfully. “Reality beckons.” Kissed her. “But that was bloody amazing.”

Buffy grinned like a fool as Spike left the room. Damn straight it was amazing. Sex had never been anything remotely like that. Spike really knew what he was doing. She dressed and got up to feed the baby. She couldn’t stop grinning.

Angel had been her first, a couple of months before she moved. He had been a junior and they had been going together forever when they finally took that step. He had been sweet and kind and gentle and it had been nice, pleasurable even, but she never came. Buffy hadn’t really thought all that much about it, just a vague sense of ‘that was it?’ when Angel went still atop her. But it had been…nice, in the best sense of the word. Afterwards they snuggled and Angel told her he loved her and that she was beautiful and she had just found out that her dad was cheating on them and the words were so comforting. And it was always that way between them. He was big and solid and steady, a house built on rock, and always gentle and respectful. Angel held her like she was made of glass, and as her parents’ marriage fell apart, she was. But then came the move, and the breakup. That hurt her so badly, that he could set her aside so easily. He had promised her forever. What happened to change that?

When she had arrived in Seattle, right after Christmas, Buffy had met Riley and she’d gone out with him a few times even though she was still heart-sick. Riley was also nice and respectful, and on their third date they made out in his car. He too was big and gentle and careful as he touched her…just like Angel. Just like Angel. It made her feel sick, and Buffy had shoved him away and told him to take her home, much to his confusion. After that, Riley always looked wounded and uncomprehending when she would duck out of conversations with him.

At the time, it seemed to Buffy that her life had been full of gentle men who promised ‘always,’ but only held on tight enough for ‘right now.’ Angel, her father, and eventually Riley if she had given him the chance. Why pretend, when it was all temporary? When it was all so pointless? So Buffy had turned around and fucked Parker Todd behind the bleachers. Parker was smaller in build and, frankly, slimey, and completely inconsiderate and way, way smaller than Angel. She felt dirty afterwards but strangely satisfied and validated, even though she had cried and taken a shower immediately after he dropped her off at home.

That had been about two months ago. A month after their…whatever you’d call it, she’d had a brief pregnancy scare. Faith worked at the Planned Parenthood that Buffy had visited, and that’s how Buffy got her first friend in Seattle. Cordelia had soon followed, though Buffy had never understood quite why the snobby girl was friends with Faith. Shortly after that, Buffy started working for the Turners, who were friends of friends of friends of someone at the art gallery where mom worked.

And now she was here. Playing with Spike’s baby on the couch where he’d just fucked her senseless.

Wow, she’d really just done that. But he’d been good and sweet and not too gentle, and bigger than Angel, around. And Spike had…gone down on her. Angel had never done that before. Angel had just kind of…you know, mushed his fingers around down there and she had oohed and aaahed because he looked like he was trying so hard and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

But Spike…was married, she reminded herself, with a kid. Definitely not on the market. But famous, which was kinda cool, if you thought about it.

~*~*~*~





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