Buffy…
Not awake enough to remember he probably shouldn't be doing this, Spike dipped his head down, capturing Buffy's lips in a kiss.
The second his mouth was on her, Buffy's eyes popped open, shock and something she didn't have a name for rushing through her. Spike's lips glided over hers as if he were tasting her, and Buffy's body trembled, her own lips moving now. A moan escaped from her unbidden, and Spike took it as a cue to deepen the kiss, coaxing her mouth open and slipping his tongue in to tangle with hers.
In all her long years of existing, Buffy had never felt anything like this. The first pass of Spike's tongue inside of her mouth startled her, but she soon realized exactly why anyone would want to do such a thing. She wound her fingers in Spike's hair, holding him in place so she could experience more.
Encouraged by her enthusiasm, Spike rolled them over, locking Buffy's body beneath his. The sheet he'd used to cover himself slipped away, and he rubbed his now-bare erection against the fabric of her chiton, groaning with need into her mouth.
Suddenly, reality came crashing down upon her, and Buffy pushed Spike away, scrambling to sit up. She struggled to slow her breathing, to calm her heart still pounding in her chest. She knew what was happening now, and she had to stop it before it went any further.
"Spike…we can't."
"Why not?" Spike asked, the sight of her flushed and tousled doing nothing to calm his raging erection. He wanted Buffy desperately, and it had been clear from her response to his kisses that she wanted him, too.
"Because it's against the rules," Buffy stated plainly. "I can't do that with you. Ever."
Ideally, Spike knew a declaration like that should've put a damper on his need to have Buffy right then and there. Sadly, it didn't. If anything, he couldn't seem to fully comprehend what she was saying to him. "What?"
"Muses have to remain virgins. If you and I were to ever…" She paused for a moment, making a quick waving gesture with her hands in the general direction of his cock. "You know, do that, I'd lose it all. I'd be stripped of my powers and be forced to live out my remaining days as a mortal."
Spike knew it was better for their working relationship if he didn't sleep with her, but that didn't make it any easier when faced with the new knowledge that he couldn't. Buffy was gorgeous, intelligent, and tender, and she inspired more desire in him than he'd been able to feel since Drusilla had up and left him.
"So you've never had sex," Spike said, still trying to wrap his head around the concept. He couldn't fathom having lived an eternity without being intimate with anyone.
"No, I haven't. Honestly, I've never even wanted to." Buffy's gaze flickered down to Spike's still-erect cock and a thought crept into her head before she could stop it. "Until now…"
"How can you inspire people to feel things you've never experienced?"
Buffy blinked, his question taking her completely by surprise. "You don't have to have sex to understand poetry, Spike," she replied, unable to keep herself from sounding as defensive as she was feeling.
"But poetry is emotion, luv. It's passion and desire poured out onto paper. It's the words you can't seem to say when you're writhing in the arms of your lover, lost in ecstasy." He leaned forward, his voice dropping several octaves and taking on a husky quality Buffy couldn't help but tremble from. "It's longing, need, and release all rolled together in an orgasm of words."
By Zeus, Buffy wanted some of that… She stared at Spike for a moment, her breathing coming in harsh pants before she remembered who and what she was and shook her head. "Poetry doesn't have to be that," she insisted, her chin now raised defiantly.
"It is if it's done right," Spike replied, his eyebrow arched. His eyes locked with Buffy's, and he didn't miss the glazed quality in her green depths. He wanted her—desperately even—but Spike had no idea what he wanted past her body, and he couldn't rightly ask her to give up everything she was just so he could get his rocks off.
He cleared his throat as he stood, not missing the way Buffy's eyes zeroed in on his bobbing penis or the way her pretty pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She'd still be a virgin if he asked her to suck him off, wouldn't she?
Spike pushed that thought away with a shake of his head, knowing it would be leading into dangerous territory on more than one level. "I'm going to take a shower," he informed her. A cold one…
"Will you be ready to write more when you get out?" Buffy asked, slipping back into all-business mode.
"Yeah, I think so. I at least have some ideas on how to polish up a bit of what I wrote yesterday," Spike replied, running his hand through his bleached curls.
"Good. I'll wait for you by your poems then."
Spike replied with only a nod before he left Buffy alone in his room.
Buffy was sitting on the couch when Spike got out of the shower. Her knees were pulled up to her chin and she had a far-away look in her eyes as she stared at the wall.
"Pet? You all right, luv?"
She looked up sharply at the sound of Spike's voice and blinked rapidly a few times. "Oh. Yes, I'm fine. I was just waiting for you to get out of the shower."
Spike scratched the back of his head, his hair still damp. "Yeah, sorry it took me so long. Didn't mean to keep you waiting." "Just had to have a wank so I could control myself around you…" he added to himself.
"Are you ready to write now?" Buffy asked, looking up at him hopefully.
"Yeah, I'm ready to write," Spike replied with a soft smile.
Buffy smiled back as she held out his pen.
Spike spent the day throwing himself into his work, trying to concentrate more on the page than the beautiful yet unattainable woman currently occupying his flat. Still, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering towards her, couldn't keep himself from drinking in the sight of her. She watched him so intently as he wrote, her gaze following his hand as her steady breathing pushed up the swell of her breasts above the top of her chiton.
Bloody hell, what he wouldn't give just for a taste…
With a sigh, he tossed down his pen, knowing he'd done all he could for the day. Buffy was nothing if not inspiring, though the longer he stayed in her presence, the less he was inspired to write and the more he was inspired to introduce her to the world of carnal pleasures.
Yet he couldn't, and he knew that. He wasn't worth asking Buffy to give up everything for. Even if she did want to leave being a muse in order to have a human life with a man, she deserved someone better than him.
"I'm getting a bit hungry, pet. Want to go out and find something to eat?"
Buffy's eyes lit up at his question. "Can it be more ice cream?"
Spike chuckled. "Of course, luv. I'll get you all the ice cream you can eat if it makes you happy."
Buffy clapped her hands together and made a happy squealing noise, bring a smile to Spike's lips. God, she was bloody adorable…
It happened so fast he wasn't able to stop himself. She was just too beautiful, too endearing, and Spike reached out to cup her chin and pull her face towards him, kissing her before he could come to his senses and remember he wasn't supposed to.
For her part, Buffy didn't hesitate in her response. She sighed happily as she sunk into Spike's embrace, letting him wrap his arms around her and pull her close. He tasted like something new and wonderful, something she wanted to roll around her tongue and learn until it became a part of her. She allowed herself to get lost, to pretend for a brief moment in time that she could do this.
However, when Spike pulled away, she had to remember. She wasn't a normal human girl falling in love for the first time. She was a muse, and she had a duty, responsibilities. She was here to help Spike, to inspire him to write the poetry she knew was already inside of him. His love, his body—they weren't for her.
Spike looked into her eyes, seeing his own sadness mirrored there. "I know," he said softly as he tucked behind her ear a strand of golden blonde hair that had escaped its confinement. "I know."
"I'm sorry," Buffy told him, her voice barely above a whisper.
Spike tried his best to smile, though the expression still broke Buffy's heart. "Don't be, luv. You've got nothing to be sorry for." He pressed a tender kiss against her forehead, letting his mouth linger for only a moment before he pulled away and rose to his feet.
"So ice cream then?"
Buffy was adorable when she ate.
Granted, Spike knew he found her adorable in just about everything she did, but she looked particularly cute at the moment, sitting in a chair in his living room digging into a container of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food as if it were the most wonderful thing in all the world. She'd kicked off her slippers and had her knees pulled up, her dainty, painted toes sticking out over the edge of the chair, begging him to go over there and kiss each one.
But he didn't. He'd already gone too far with her, especially since it was completely impossible for him to alleviate any of the tension between them. He needed to come to grips with Buffy being off limits and get over his desire for her. It was difficult enough to write without trying to do it with a massive hard-on.
However, watching her as she closed her eyes, wrapped her tongue around her spoon, and moaned was not making that an easy task. Still, he didn't regret stocking his fridge with 500 ml tubs of the bloody stuff. It made her happy after all.
Buffy opened her eyes, dropped her spoon back into the ice cream, and frowned. "Why are you watching me like that?"
"Like what?" Spike asked, sitting up straight and trying to pretend he hadn't just been caught.
"Like that," Buffy said. "All with the staring. Am I doing something wrong?"
"No, luv," Spike replied, shaking his head. "You're just…well, cute. I like watching you."
Buffy blushed. "I'm not really anything special, Spike."
"Yes, you are."
The rough sincerity in his voice made a tingle shoot through Buffy's body, her nerves singing just as much as they had when he'd actually been touching her. Why was this happening to her? She'd served as a muse to so many other men, and not a one of them had ever made her feel so strangely. She'd never allowed any of them to kiss her, never mind welcomed it. It simply wasn't done.
But then again, she didn't think any of the other men she'd been assigned to had ever exuded sexuality quite the way Spike did. There was only one thing a woman thought of when faced with a man like Spike, and it didn't matter if she actually had experience in the area of not. His eyes promised he'd teach her everything she needed to know.
"Thank you," Buffy said, her gaze going back down to her ice cream. "You've been very kind to me. I…I've appreciated it."
"It's got to be something about you, pet, because usually I'm a right git. Complete tosser. Ask anyone who knows me."
Buffy giggled, glad Spike had managed to break the tension. "I don't have to ask. I've read your file."
Spike's eyebrow arched. "That so?"
"Yup." She wagged her spoon at him. "I know all your dark secrets, William Pratt."
"And yet you still like me?"
Again, the mood in the room grew serious. "Yes, I do."
Spike watched her for a moment, his head cocked to the side, and it was just…too much. He coughed softly, then turned back to his own meal, knowing he needed to stop before he did or said something he couldn't take back.
Grateful for the out, Buffy ate her ice cream.
Buffy had waited until Spike fell asleep to return to his room and climb into his bed as she had the night before. She'd slept curled against his side, relishing his warmth and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Yet as she'd felt him begin to stir, she'd forced herself away, creeping out of the room before there could be a repeat of the previous morning.
With one last, longing look, she slipped through the door to wait for him to wake fully so they could start their day.
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