But then again, she’d never been very good at that…
“Why don’t you go smoke outside,” she snapped.
Spike arched his eyebrow. “You know you don’t want that, sweetheart.” He grabbed her with his free hand and pulled her into his lap, his erection hard against her. His voice dropped, sending shivers through her. “You want this…”
Buffy shook. God, she did… Feeling the way he wanted her ratcheted up her own desire until she had to have him. She knew she shouldn’t give into temptation, that being with Spike was too many kinds of wrong for her to even count, but in that moment when she let herself go, when she stopped caring, none of it mattered.
She sank down on his cock, and she wasn’t the Slayer anymore. Nothing outside of this existed, nothing beyond the pleasure/pain of being stretched to her limits with him.
He stubbed his cigarette out on her floor, and she didn’t care. All that mattered was that both of his hands were free to touch her, to grab her hips and push her down further, bruising her inside and out.
One of his hands traveled up from her hip to her back, pushing her forward so he could whisper in her ear. “You know you want this, luv. No reason to keep fighting it. Just let yourself feel good…”
Buffy shook her head, but grabbed his hand and dragged it down to her clit, pushing his fingers against her. Spike growled as he pressed down hard and rubbed, and Buffy stopped thinking at all, stopped doing anything but feeling.
But it couldn’t last forever. Too soon she was slumped against his chest, trembling with the aftershocks. It wasn’t long until the guilt and self-loathing came rising back up like bile, voices in her mind sounding suspiciously like her friends and her Watcher as they reminded her of her duty, of what had happened the last time she had turned her back on who she was for the love of a vampire.
She pushed his chest and scrambled backwards, off his lap. She stumbled as she got to her feet, snatching up the first thing she could find to cover her. “Get out, Spike.”
“You know, luv, your pillow talk leaves much to be desired.”
“There’s never going to be any pillow talk between us, Spike,” Buffy snapped. “There’s never going to be anything between us. Ever.”
“You know, sweetheart, that might be a little more convincing if my cock wasn’t drenched in your juices.”
“You’re a pig.”
“That one’s getting old, luv. Might be time to start singing a new tune.” Buffy only glared and clutched her impromptu covering around her chest, and Spike sighed and got to his feet, searching for his clothes.
“You’re wasting your time fighting this, Slayer,” he said as he dressed. “You want me, and now that you’ve given in once, well…” Spike favored her with a cocky grin and buttoned his jeans. “You’ll never be able to resist the temptation now that you know what you’d be missing.”
“Just get out,” Buffy replied, her eyes darting away from his face.
“I’ll need this first,” Spike said as he reached out and snatched his blanket from around Buffy. She gasped, standing there exposed in front of him, but Spike merely threw her a wink before he left the room, the sound of the back door slamming making Buffy shake a few moments later.
Angry tears in the corner of her eyes, Buffy searched for her own clothes and pulled them on. As much as she hated to ever admit such a thing, she was afraid Spike was right. Her resolve had crumbled in moments, the temptation too strong for her to walk away from.
How did she really expect to fight it next time?
She sank back down to the floor, resisting the urge to scream. Buffy knew she couldn’t allow this to continue, but how could she stop it?
Her eyes shifted to a box on the floor, a thought entering her mind that she immediately knew she shouldn’t even begin to entertain. After everything that had happened as of late, she knew that it was the bad idea to end all bad ideas. She would be completely insane to attempt something like this…
And yet, she was scooting over towards the box, her hands trembling as she opened it and began sifting through what they’d helped Willow pack just that morning.
She pulled a book out of the box and, as if by fate, opened it directly to just what she’d need. Was that a sign? Sure, things hadn’t been going so well with magic recently, but they’d had luck with it in the past. She’d had luck with it in the past. She’d done that spell to see if her mother was under any magical influences when Joyce had been sick, and there’d been the spell they’d used to defeat Adam. Sure, there’d been that tiny issue with the First Slayer trying to kill them all in their dreams, but this wouldn’t be a spell of that magnitude.
It would just be something small, something to help her. She’d just do it to herself, not to anyone else. And really, what was the worst thing that could happen – the spell would kill her? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been there and done that…
She was too weak to resist Spike on her own. She’d tried that, and yet she kept jumping him. He was the one thing that made her feel at all since she’d come back from Heaven, and she couldn’t find the strength to walk away, even when she knew she had to. A Slayer and a vampire would never work. She knew that as well as anyone.
Besides, he was evil, and that was wrong.
Of course, what she was thinking of doing was wrong, too. But was it the lesser of two evils?
Buffy gazed down at the pages of the book, a simple spell outlined in plain English. She’d never taken the time to really look at any of these books before, despite the number of them that tended to be out around her, and it surprised her how simple the spell looked. She could do that, couldn’t she? And something that simple couldn’t possibly have too dire of consequences.
Nothing as dire as what could happen if she continued to let Spike in, at least.
No. No. She knew better than this. If her friendship with Willow had taught her nothing else, it was that magic was not a quick fix, not the easy alternative. She slammed the book shut and put it back in the box. She wouldn’t do this. She’d simply have to build up the strength to turn Spike down on her own.
Buffy stood up and raised her chin in determination. She could so turn down Spike. After all, he was Spike. Evil, cocky Spike. Spike of the crypt-living, and the blood drinking, and the rock hard abs…
Oooh…and his tongue. A dreamy smile crossed Buffy’s lips at the thought of that particular part of his body. And even that was no match for his…
Her eyes grew wide as she realized how quickly her thoughts had taken a turn for the not-so-pure. “No, Buffy,” she muttered to herself. “No thinking of Spike’s abs, or his tongue, or anything else. Think about…”
But it was too late. Her brain refused to supply any of the thoughts she wanted. Instead, it had turned into the all-Spike porn channel. Apparently, he hadn’t been so off the mark when he’d said she was going to start to crave him.
She eyed the book again. So actually doing what she was thinking of doing would be bad, but so would continuing a relationship with Spike. Either one was dangerous, neither something she should be doing. But if she did one now to stop the other, wouldn’t that make things better in the long run?
Doing her best to ignore the part of her that was telling her not to do this, Buffy grabbed the box and ran upstairs to her room.
Desperate times, after all…
Buffy hadn’t been able to stop pacing since she did the spell. She’d expected some sort of puff of smoke or a flash of light, something to tell her there’d been an actual result. Instead, she’d got nothing.
So had it worked? She closed her eyes and conjured up an image of Spike in her mind. He was naked. There were chains.
She sighed. She still wanted him. Crap.
Maybe she had to actually see him for the spell to take effect.
Which meant she should be going to his crypt. She could just pop by, see if she was still tempted, then leave. Simple. And if it didn’t work, well, they’d already had sex twice this morning. That should be enough to keep her from jumping his bones the moment she walked in, right?
She’d just go over there, see if the spell worked, and if not, well, she’d start working on building up some Slayer will power the old fashioned way. She could do that.
She had to do that…
Spike was gorgeous when he slept. He looked perfect, tangled up in silken sheets, and the moment she stepped down from the ladder and turned to look at him, Buffy felt a wave of desire crash over her, the urge to climb in beside him nearly overwhelming. His chest was bare, exposed above the sheet, and god it looked so damn…lickable.
With a heavy sigh, Buffy realized the spell hadn’t done a bit of good. She still found Spike just as tempting as she always had, complete with added knowledge of how good he actually felt inside.
Buffy needed to just get out of there before Spike woke up. It was a good thing the spell hadn’t worked. It had been a dumb, dangerous idea to begin with, and she was glad she hadn’t been able to pull it off. She needed to just go home, get her head together, and start working on her anti-Spike resolve. Stop thinking about what he could do with his tongue or how his eyes looked when he laughed and start reminding herself of all the things about him that repulsed her.
She turned back towards the ladder, building up that resolve.
It all crumbled the moment Spike’s hand circled around her arm.
“Leaving without even a hello, pet? How very rude of you.”
His voice was deep, beckoning her to lean back into him. “I…you were asleep,” she said lamely.
Spike pulled her away from the ladder and against his body, her back flush against his chest. “You could’ve woken me up, luv. I can think of so many nice ways for you to do that. Maybe with that pretty little mouth of yours wrapped around my cock…”
And there was an image that should disgust her… She shivered and moaned.
“Yeah, you’d like that, too, wouldn’t you, Slayer? You’re wishing you’d thought of it yourself.”
“No I’m not…” Buffy insisted, though her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Yes, you are. But that’s all right, kitten. We can make up for it.”
Buffy gasped as Spike spun her around and pushed her to her knees. The action should’ve earned him at the very least a punch in the nose, but instead she felt a flood of moisture in her panties. Her hand reached out and gripped his cock, her mouth watering at the memory of his taste.
And yet, something felt…off.
She pumped her hand up and down and realized what it was. He was soft. From that constant bulge she’d noticed in his jeans over the years, she hadn’t even thought that was possible.
With a mental shrug, Buffy figured it wasn’t a big deal. It was Spike; he’d be fully hard within seconds. He was the horniest man she’d ever known in her life.
She continued to grip his cock, directing it towards her mouth so she could bathe it with her tongue. She expected it to start jumping in her hand immediately.
It didn’t.
Confused but determined, Buffy wrapped her lips around the tip and sucked.
Nothing.
She looked up at Spike and caught the look of panic in his eyes. “It…it’s never done that before,” he said, an edge of hysteria in his voice. “And with you…on your knees…there’s no reason it should…”
Buffy’s eyes widened as she realized there was actually a reason why this was happening. And what it would be.
She let go of his cock and backed away.
Maybe the spell hadn’t been such a bust after all…
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