Blue Eyed Devil
Home
Pattyanne 's Fic
Kings of Mercia
LoobyLoos' Fic
Jen's Fic

 
 
 
Part thirty...
 
 
 
"That's some of the best making up I've ever experienced,"
she told him, blushing profusely.
 
"And I'm just getting started,"  Devlin stated grandly. "I think
I have a long way to go yet before I'm completely forgiven."
 
Buffy stretched, arching her back. "I may not survive."
 
"Yeah, you will.  I'll make sure of it."
 
***************************************
 
 
The brief break in the storm didn't last.  By the time they ended up
in the bedroom, it was raining again.
 
Not that either of them cared.
 
Spike straddled Buffy's hips, pressing her down into the soft bed-
clothes. His hands held her wrists down on the mattress as his
mouth began exploring the silky skin of her throat.
 
She closed her eyes, wanting to experience this by feel alone.
 
His lips traveled down, lingering in the hollow at the base of her
throat. He dipped his tongue into it briefly, laughing softly when
he felt her shiver and heard her gasp.
 
He quieted her with a kiss, hot and demanding, all pretense of
gentility temporarily put aside.  This kiss was meant to consume
them both, he wanted to ravish and plunder her mouth, to lick her
trembling lips and suck on her tongue until it was buried inside his
own mouth.
 
Buffy gave herself over to it. She wanted this dominating side
of him to show itself, wanted him to control her...just a bit...until
she was ready to shatter that control.  Her tongue moved over
the edges of his teeth and lapped at the soft inside of his cheek,
fanning the flames that burned between them.
 
Devlin ended the kiss, but didn't turn her loose from his grasp. He
released one of her hands so he could gather up a fistful of her
hair, then used it to tilt her head back on the pillow. Before she
could even think to question his actions, he'd lowered his head
and was kissing and licking at her breasts.
 
Buffy felt her senses reeling. His tongue was performing the
sweetest torture ever inflicted on an unsuspecting woman. He
used it to paint delicate patterns on the upper curves of her
breasts, then circled it around and around her nipples until she
thought she actually was going to scream this time.
 
At which point, he closed his mouth around one hard nipple and
then the other, sucking them fiercely, hard and strong.
 
When he had her whimpering and twisting in his hold, he let
go of her hair and her wrist, moving further down her body. He
paused at her navel, depositing wetness from his tongue in the
small cup, then slid down even more.
 
"Spread your legs," he rasped. She did, and he spent a moment
just staring at what she revealed to him. Slowly, he leaned down and
ran his tongue along the neatly trimmed line where her pubic curls
began.  Back and forth he went, wetting her thoroughly, then sliding
his tongue right down the center and licking her clitoris.
 
Buffy's hips lunged forward with no thought from her. He captured
them in his hands and grunted out an order to "hold still" before he
sucked on her long and sweetly.
 
She had no time to prepare herself for the orgasm that crashed
into her.  He continued to hold her down as her hips jerked beneath
his ravaging mouth.
 
And when she finally...finally...began to recover, he quickly slid back
up her body and sank his erection all the way inside of her.
 
With his forearms bracketing her head on the pillow, he buried his
face in her hair and groaned out her name.
 
Buffy brought her arms up and wrapped them around him, keeping
him lying flat on top of her. She didn't want so much as an air molecule
to come between their bodies.
 
Spike was plunging into her with all of his strength, there was nothing
slow and tender about his deep, driving thrusts.
 
He seemed unable to slow down, and she had no trouble discerning
why he was being so dominant, so demanding....he was staking his
claim. 
 
She wasn't sure whether she SHOULD be disturbed by his behavior,
but she wasn't.  She'd made a decision at some point, an unconscious
one, that she was giving herself to him in every way. She wanted to
belong to him, to be his.
 
Just as she wanted him to belong to her.
 
Devlin kept thrusting, harder and deeper, grunting against the damp
skin of her throat with each forward lunge.
 
The rain came down harder, as if it knew that something needed
to be done to mark the occasion.  It hit the window in violent bursts,
then trickled down the pane, making crazy patterns.
 
The two on the bed took no notice of it.  Their bodies writhed
against each other's in wild, earth shaking rhythm.
 
Buffy lifted her legs and clasped them around Spike's
waist, letting him sink in even deeper. She held on to him, nails
digging into his back, as she strained upwards against him,
meeting that erotic rhythm he had set, thrust for thrust.
 
Then, when she couldn't wait another moment, she deliberately
tightened her internal muscles around his invading erection,
clamping down on it as orgasm swept over her once again.
 
"Buffy...Buffy...oh, CHRIST!" he shouted, muffled against her
neck. "Ah....ah....ah....yessss!"    With a deep throated growl,
Devlin surrendered to his own climax. He pounded his hips
into hers, relishing every soft gasp he elicited from her lips.
 
Pushing her down harder into the bed, then harder still, he
emptied himself.  Thick spurts of semen shot into her, filling
her until it overflowed and leaked back out, trickling down her
inner thighs and dampening the sheet.
 
When she came to her senses...when the wild rushing in her
ears faded...she could concentrate on him again, on how he was
holding on to her tightly, and whispering in her ear over and over..."I love
you...I love you...God, I love you so much."
 
 
*************************************
 
 
"Are you hungry?"
 
"Are you joking?  Of course I am."
 
"Well, let's go downstairs and I'll fix some dinner."
 
"But that would mean getting out of bed," Spike complained.
 
Buffy shrugged. "Sorry. You can't have it both ways."
 
He was silent for a moment, then said, "Why not?" with a truly
adorable pout. 
 
 
***********************************
 
 
It took her a few minutes, but she was finally able to talk him
out of bed and into his freshly dry jeans and t-shirt.  She threw on
a pair of over sized pajamas and prodded, pulled and pushed him
downstairs to the kitchen.
 
He grumbled about it good naturedly, but sat quietly on the counter
and watched her cook.
 
Buffy disappeared into the pantry and reemerged with her arms
full.  She dropped the items on the counter, and located some ground
beef in the refrigerator.
 
"What are you making?" Spike asked with interest.
 
"This," she informed him, grabbing her iron skillet and setting it on
the stove, "is a really easy chili. It's nice for a cold, wet night like
this...but it doesn't take as long to make as regular chili."
 
"How come?"
 
She shrugged. "Because I cheat. Open these cans for me," she
directed, handing him the can opener.
 
While he was working on the cans, she crumbled the meat up in the
pan and started browning it.  When it was nearly finished, she added
garlic salt and a pinch of chili powder and let it settle into the
ground meat to flavor it.
 
"All cans opened," Spike reported, tossing the can opener into a
drawer.
 
Buffy drained the meat, then dumped it into a large kettle. "Now, we
add the canned beans."  She added a large can of pinto beans, then
drained the liquid from a can of kidney beans and tossed them into the
kettle.  Two large cans of crushed tomatoes went into the pot.  After
stirring the mixture together, she added diced green chilies and sliced some
onion into it.  A few shakes of chili powder finished the preparations,
and  she covered the kettle and set the flame under it to simmer.
 
"Give it about a half hour and it's ready to eat." 
 
Her words drew his attention. "What are we going to do while we're
waiting?" he asked politely.
 
Buffy glanced at him, then at the pot on the stove, then back at him.
 
"I could use a shower," she said, heading for the stairs.
 
"Hey!  Wait for me!"
 
 
****************************************
 
 
 
Buffy placed a stack of towels on the hamper in the bathroom,
then lit three fragrant candles and placed them in strategic locations.
 
Closing the bathroom door behind them to keep the room
warm, she fiddled with the shower knobs until she had the temperature
right.
 
When she straightened up, she turned and ran right into Devlin.
 
He smiled and started unbuttoning her pajama top, then shoved the
bottoms down until they puddled around her feet.  Ridding himself of
his clothing, he opened the shower door and climbed in, pulling her
after him.
 
She was a little surprised when he didn't reach for her, but instead
picked up a bottle of bath gel and a fat, pink sponge.  He squeezed
a goodly amount of the peach scented gel on the sponge, then began
working it up into a lather which he applied lavishly all over her body.
 
He was thorough, and left no part of her unwashed. Directing her
under the warm spray, he carefully rinsed her clean of soap residue.
 
She could feel his erection prodding her, but she took the sponge and
soap and treated him to the same diligent cleansing. He stood it for as
long as he could, then yanked the sponge away  and spun her
around until she was facing the tile on the back wall of the shower en-
closure.
 
He placed her hands on the wall, then nudged her feet apart.
 
Buffy waited....
 
After considering his options, Devlin put his hands on her waist and
squeezed gently.  He stepped closer and bent his knees a little, then
straightened, bringing himself up between her legs. His erection rubbed
firmly against her as he slid in and out of the trap she'd snared him in.
 
"D'ya feel that, luv?" he asked in her ear, rubbing himself against her
more aggressively. "Feel how hard I am?  How much I want to be in
you?"
 
Buffy kept her hands on the wall, certain that if she were to let go, she'd
end up on the floor.
 
"Feel me sliding back and forth over your pretty wet pussy?" he went
on, breathing hotly against her skin. "In and out of your thighs? Do you
like it?"
 
"Yes," she said softly, nodding.  Oh, god...did she like it!
 
Her own hips bucked back slightly, seeking a firmer contact.
 
"No, you don't," he said instantly, pulling away. "You be still. I'll give
you what you want, babe. When I'm ready."  Returning to his
original position, he rocked his hips against her soft bottom, grinding
his erection against it.   "You have the prettiest ass," he murmured
in her ear. "It's so soft and rounded.  I love feeling it rubbing against
me."
 
The hot water continued to shower down on them, making their
contact slick and slippery.  He leaned down and licked droplets of it
from her shoulders as his hands slid from her waist to her breasts.
 
"Want me to play with them?" he asked, teasingly.
 
Buffy didn't know what she wanted more at the moment, so she
kept quiet and let him run the show.
 
Devlin slid his wet hands up under her breasts, lifting them just
a little and pushing them together. His thumbs swept over the hard
peaks, rubbing them firmly.
 
"You like that?" he hissed, biting her ear lobe gently. "Or...this?"
His fingers tugged firmly on her nipples.
 
"Oh...oh, god," she moaned raggedly. "Spike...please."
 
His own control was beginning to slip, and that husky begging she
was doing wasn't helping at all.  He pulled back slightly, afraid that
if he didn't he'd surely embarrass himself all over her pretty, little
bottom.
 
He put his hands back on her waist, fighting for the control that
was slowly deserting him, standing behind her and struggling to
calm his breathing.
 
"Spike," Buffy whispered. "Please....now.  I need you..."
 
"Bloody, fucking hell," he muttered, and yanked her back onto
him. With a harsh grunt, he slid all the way inside of her, burying
his rigid cock in her sweet softness. The hard length slid in and out
of her, steadily building up a pressure that would soon need to be
eased.
 
Buffy lost it. She pushed her hips back, demanding that he pound
into her as hard as he could. One hand left the wall and reached
behind her, sliding around the back of his neck. "Harder," she
begged.
 
Desperate to give her what she asked for, he redoubled his
efforts until he was slamming her up against the cold tile, pumping
into her in an orgy of unrestrained lust. Harder and faster, he rammed
in and pulled back out. One arm slid around her waist to hold her
up when he felt her legs giving out.
 
Shaking the water off his face, he tried to apply a little finesse
to the situation. Before he could really think it through, he pulled
out of her and spun her around, then pushed down on her shoulders
until she was sitting on the little shelf that carried her assortment
of soaps and shampoos.  He dropped to his knees and shoved her
legs apart, then drove his tongue up into her, fucking her with it until
she was moaning and gripping his hair in her hands.
 
She came, screaming his name.
 
Spike waited until she was all the way through it, then he pulled
her to her feet and pushed her up against the wall. Sliding his
hands beneath her ass, he lifted her, and when she had her legs
secured around his waist, he impaled her on his steel hard cock.
 
Buffy could feel the delicious stretching and tugging as her body
accepted his length and thickness. Every thrust in made the base
of his shaft grind against her clit, driving her pleasure even higher.
 
Devlin held onto her bottom, his fingers digging in so hard that
they'd leave bruises he wouldn't discover until much later.
 
"Ah...fuck!  Buffy!"  He was nearly unable to speak, only managing
little half moaned words and animalistic whines of need. "Want...you.
Oh, fuck...you...do it...do it...move your ass, baby...that's...it!   Ah!
Jesus...fucking....hell."
 
Buffy was spiraling towards another wonderful orgasm, but this time
he had to come with her.  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she
burrowed closer and began talking to him...encouraging him...driving
him on.
 
"Mmmm....Spike. That's so good....so perfect....I want you...want
only you....harder....I'm..."  She blushed and almost stopped her
verbal commands, but forced herself not to.  "I'm going to come,"
she whispered right into his ear. "Do it with me...please...oh, now...now!"
 
Between her spoken pleas and the demands her body was imposing
on him, Devlin finally reached his breaking point.  With a mindless
howl of lust and pleasure, he pumped hard five more times and then
shoved her up against the wall as hard as he could, ejaculating
inside of her clutching sex, reeling with ecstasy when he felt it tighten
around him and milk his cock for every drop of fluid he could produce
for her.
 
When it was over, his knees buckled and they both slid to the
floor of the shower....where they noticed that the hot water was
beginning to give out.
 
Giggling like children, they tumbled out of the shower and dried
each other off.
 
Spike pulled his jeans on, while Buffy contented herself with just
the top of her pajamas.
 
The chili was ready when they returned to the kitchen.  Buffy dished
up two bowls, then grated a layer of sharp cheddar over them as
Spike popped the tops off two bottles of Tecate.
 
Sitting at the kitchen table, they ate ravenously, sating their more
prosaic appetite and gaining strength for whatever else the night
would bring.
 
 
*************************************
 
"You know what?"
 
"What's that, luv?"
 
"You're  totally forgiven."
 
"Yeah?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"Cause I can go on apologizing all night."
 
"Oh. Well, in THAT case...."
 
Part thirty-one....
 
 
 
Sometime during the night, the rain had stopped for good.  Fat,
black clouds began to dissipate, leaving behind a bright, full
moon.
 
They slept spooned together at first, but at some point Buffy had
rolled onto her back. The resultant jostling of the mattress woke
Spike up for a moment.  When she settled back into a deeper
sleep, he moved down a little in the bed and placed his head on
her breast to listen to the strong beat of her heart.
 
He passed several moments this way, utterly at peace with the
world, lulled by her soft, steady breathing. But at the instant he
was about to slip back into his own sleep, dark thoughts began to
prey on his mind, the sort of thoughts that always seem to make
themselves known when a person woke up in the small hours of the
morning.
 
Despite the evidence to contrary that was beating steadily in his
ear, he began to feel terribly afraid that he was going to lose this
girl. Not lose her love, but lose HER. 
 
In three days he had to pack his bags and leave. What if something
happened to her while he was gone?  The world was fast becoming
a dangerous place, and no one seemed to be immune to it.  He'd
be unable to protect her.
 
Anything could happen to her. She could have a car accident...or
she could be mugged in front of the ATM.  California seemed to have
a regular problem with earthquakes, which were usually followed up
by raging brush fires.
 
Without him realizing it, his arms tightened around her.
 
Or she could get sick. Oh, god...what if she got sick?  Yes, her
heartbeat sounded strong and healthy, but he was no doctor. What
if there was something there...some little genetic flaw never de-
tected?  It happened all the time, perfectly fit people just dropping
dead suddenly for no apparent reason.
 
A veritable laundry list of horrible possibilities began to run through
his mind, giving him no peace. All he could think to do was hold her
tighter and make silent pleas to whatever God might be listening. He
begged and promised and offered deals, willing to do anything...ANY-
THING...to keep her safe and well and with him.
 
The next thing he knew, Buffy was gently shaking him awake.
 
 
******************************
 
"Boy, you weren't kidding when you said you were hard to get up
in the morning," she said, smiling down at him.
 
"You misunderstood," he replied, his voice slurred with sleep. "I
said I'm hard AND up in the morning. Want to feel?"
 
She retrieved her hand before he could lead it under the sheets. "Love
to. Can't. Got to go to work."
 
Spike pried his eyelids open. Grey morning sunlight filtered in through
the window. "What time is it?"
 
"Nearly 7:30," Buffy said, leaning over to slip her shoes on. "You
don't have to get up yet. I put clean towels in the bathroom and
I set up the coffee maker. There's cereal and eggs. Help yourself to
anything you want."
 
"I want YOU," he muttered, trying to make a grab for her. "You smell
good."
 
"Showers will do that for a person."  She stood in front of her vanity
mirror and slipped her small gold hoops into the tiny holes in her
earlobes. Her hair was neatly braided, and she took one last look in the
mirror to check her appearance.
 
"I have to go now," she said, leaning over to kiss him goodbye. "Much
as I'd love nothing better than to spend the day here in bed with you."
 
His expression had a definite element of 'pout' to it, but she steeled
herself against it and slipped away before he could tighten his hold
on her.
 
"Hey!" he complained. Sitting up in bed, the covers pooled around
his waist, he looked at her plaintively. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
 
She thought it over for a moment. "I don't think so."
 
"Well!" he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. "That's just
fine. Go ahead and leave without telling me you love me. See if I care."
 
Buffy leaned against the door jamb. "Spike?" she said softly, blowing him
a kiss when he glanced at her. "I love you. And later tonight....I'll show you
how much."
 
"You promise?" he asked. Laying back down on the bed, he stretched
his arms over his head and arched his back, briefly tensing his muscles,
putting on a little show for her benefit. "Okay,  honey-baby. I'll see you
later."
 
Although she badly wanted to jump back into the bed and show him
just what she thought of such teasing, her mother-ingrained sense of
responsibility forbade it.
 
She would, however, make him pay for it...later.
 
 
******************************
 
 
The door to her classroom squeaked open slowly during quiet
time. Buffy looked up, hoping to see Spike, and was disappointed
when Willow walked in.
 
She perched on the side of Buffy's desk, her back towards the
sleeping children. "All right, you," she said, a giddy twinkle in her
eye. "Talk!  I want to know everything. Don't leave out one single
detail."
 
"About what?" Buffy asked innocently.
 
Willow placed her hands flat on the desk and leaned closer. "Don't
play games with me, young lady. I'm not your mother. Now, spill
your guts."
 
After making a point of neatening up a desk that didn't need
it, Buffy sighed. "After you left the club that night...."
 
A few minutes later, having told the story as concisely as she
could without being too evasive or giving away too many personal
details, Buffy sat back in her chair, her chin propped on her hand.
 
Willow's eyes were as round as silver dollars. "That's just...that's an
amazing story. God, I wish he didn't have to leave. I hate that he has
to go!" she said, upset on Buffy's behalf.
 
"So do I," Buffy replied. She could feel a wave of unhappiness
approaching. To avoid being swamped by it, she forced herself
to smile. "But, he'll be back. He promised."
 
"And you believe him?"  Willow's question wasn't mean spirited in
any way. It was simply her way of ascertaining the depth of Buffy's
commitment and trust towards a man she hadn't really known for
very long.
 
"I have faith," Buffy said firmly. "He'll come back to me."
 
"And then what?"
 
That was a very good question, and one that Buffy had no ready
answer for.  Spike had promised to return, and she knew he would
keep that promise, but she had no idea as to what might happen
after that, or what kind of long range plans he had.
 
It was the one worry that just wouldn't stop nibbling at the edges
of her subconscious mind, the thing that she'd been fretting
about from the moment she'd acknowledged her attraction to
him; the differences in their lifestyles and their long term goals in
life.
 
Spike was destined for success...for stardom. It was obvious to
anyone who watched him perform and heard his music. He was going
to soar high, and he wouldn't be one of those shooting stars that
flared for a brief moment in time and then burned out.  He was just
too damn good for that.
 
And what did that mean for her?  What exactly did he want from
her, from this love affair that they'd entered into rather recklessly?
 
Would he stay here with her?  Would he ask her to go away with
him, and if he did, what would her role in his life be?  A girlfriend?
A lover?
 
A wife?
 
They'd never talked about their future together, so Buffy had no idea
how he felt about the subject of marriage. Suppose he wasn't inter-
ested in that sort of commitment?  What would she do then?  Could
she compromise her own values, pretending that it didn't matter, even
though it did?
 
All these tough questions were causing her to work up the
beginnings of a really juicy headache. "I don't know," she finally
answered her friend's question. "I'll think about it when I absolutely
have to."
 
It was clear that Buffy wanted to end the conversation, and Willow
prudently let the matter drop.
 
 
******************************
 
 
"I want all of you to look through your stack of letters and find
the ones that spell your name," Buffy said, handing each of
the children a sheet of construction paper. "When you think you've
found them, let me know and I'll give you a glue stick and some
glitter."
 
As the kids rooted through the paper letters, Willow popped her
head in through the open door. "Phone call in the office," she
informed Buffy.
 
No one ever called her at work, and Buffy's heart flip-flopped
in her chest.  It had to be Spike.
 
She turned her class over to Willow's supervision and almost
ran to answer the phone. Stepping into Willow's private office,
she closed the door.
 
"Hello?"
 
"I just called...to say...I love you," a husky voice sang in her
ear.
 
"Oh, brother."  Buffy rolled her eyes and dropped down into
the desk chair.
 
"Whhaat?" Spike asked. "Too cute?"
 
She laughed. "No. Just cute enough. Don't move or you'll
spoil it."
 
"How's school?  Is my favorite audience behaving themselves
and minding Miss Buffy?"
 
"I haven't had to put anyone in time out, so yeah, I guess they
are."  She glanced at her watch. Almost two o'clock.  "Are
you still at my house?"
 
"No. Matter of fact, that's why I'm calling. I have to drive to
Los Angeles and take care of some business."
 
"Oh."  She tried not to sound too crestfallen. "Tour business?"
she went on, hating to ask about the unpleasant subject.
 
"'Fraid so, love."
 
"Will I see you later?" 
 
He hesitated. "Um...I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure how
long it'll take. If it gets real late then I'll probably spend the
night in a hotel, come back in the morning."
 
It was the last thing she wanted to hear, but she didn't want
him driving back if he was tired, so she made an agreeable
response. 
 
They exchanged "I love yous" and went their separate
way.
 
 
********************
 
The phone rang as Buffy finished loading the dishwasher.
 
"Hello?"
 
"Hi, sweetheart."
 
"Hi.  Where are you?"
 
"Too far away from you. I'm at the Marriott. Room 506."
 
"Is it nice?"
 
"Oh, yeah, it's quite posh. All the amenities."
 
"That's nice."
 
"How was your day, love?"
 
"Pretty good."
 
"Do you miss me?"
 
"You know I do."
 
"Yeah?"
 
"Yeah."
 
"So....what are you wearing?"
 
 
 

 

 

 
 
Part thirty-two...
 
 
"What am I...huh?"  Buffy gripped the phone tightly in her
hands.
 
Spike chuckled in an evil way. "I asked you what you're
wearing."
 
"I know what you asked me," she said. "Why do you want to know
what I'm wearing?"
 
She heard him sigh, then he said, "I keep forgetting what a little
innocent you are. Let's start over. Do you want to play a game?"
 
The tone of his voice made her skin tingle. "What kind of game?"
 
Instead of answering her, he asked another question. "Where are you
in the house?"
 
"The living room."
 
"Which phone are you using?"
 
"The cordless."
 
"Good. Scamper upstairs to your bedroom, there's a good girl."
 
Suitably intrigued, Buffy obeyed.
 
"Okay, now what?"
 
"Now...tell me what you're wearing."
 
"Sweat pants and a t-shirt."
 
Spike laughed. "No, you're not."
 
"Yes, I am."
 
"Buffy...the only pair of sweat pants you own are the
ones you let me wear last night...and I know you're not
wearing them."
 
Buffy was surprised. "How do you know that?"
 
"Because I have them with me," he informed her. "Now, if you
want to play this game the right way, put the phone down and slip
into  something sexy."
 
Muttering under her breath, she held her hand over the receiver for a
minute. "Okay, I'm back."
 
"Good. Now, tell me...what are you wearing?"
 
"A black patent leather cat suit...tail included."
 
"Buffy!"
 
"French maid outfit?"
 
"Stop that."
 
"Does a Snow White costume do it for ya?"
 
"Yes, and we'll definitely explore that option when I get back, but
for right now...be my serious girl, okay?"
 
"Okay."
 
"Good. I'll call you back in five minutes. Be ready for me."
 
 
******************************
 
 
"Hello?"
 
"What are you wearing?"
 
Buffy had figured out how this game was properly played and had
suited up in the appropriate attire. "My blue skirt and cream silk
blouse."
 
"Oh, I like you in that blouse," Devlin said softly. "It's practically
see through."
 
"I know."
 
"Do you have on sexy underwear...never mind, I just remembered
that all your underwear is sexy. Tell me what you have on."
 
"Pale...pink...lace."
 
"Good girl. Now...unzip your skirt and let if fall around your feet."
 
Holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, she did.
 
"Now," he went on, "I want you to do that trick girls do...the one
where they can get out of their bra without taking off their blouse."
 
"I'll have to put the phone down," she warned him.
 
"All right. Hurry..."
 
She withdrew her arms from the sleeves of her shirt and wriggled
around until she had her bra unhooked. Slipping the straps down,
she whisked it out from under the hem of her blouse and dropped
it on the floor.  "I'm back."
 
"Mmm...that blouse is VERY see through, isn't it?  Is it cold in
your room?"
 
"No."
 
"Then your nipples are hard because you're thinking about me?"
 
Buffy felt her entire body blush. "Maybe," she choked out.
 
"No 'maybe' about it, darling. Touch them. Through your blouse."
 
By now she knew that this wasn't just a playful 'obscene' phone
call. He required participation on her part, other than just listening
and talking, and she felt her heart rate increase noticeably.
 
She brought her right hand up and gingerly cupped it beneath her
breast.
 
"Come on, baby. Do what I said."
 
How did he know?!
 
Sighing, she let her index finger skate lightly over the taut peak
of her left breast. She was surprised at how pleasurable the
sensation was, although it was nothing compared to the way Spike
touched her.
 
"Does it feel good?" he whispered.
 
"Yes," she said, nodding, even though she knew he couldn't see
her.
 
"Do you want to know what I'd do...if I were there with you?"
 
Buffy felt the familiar wetness between her legs. "Okay."
 
"I'd drop to my knees in front of you."
 
That mental picture made her gasp.
 
"Then...I'd start with the bottom button on your blouse. I'd undo it
slowly....then move up to the next one...and the next one.  And I'd
kiss every inch of your soft skin on my way up. I'd slip your blouse
off over your shoulders and let it slide down your arms."
 
She quickly worked the buttons open herself.
 
"I want you to keep it on. It's draped around you...held on by the
cuffs at your wrists."
 
Buffy closed her eyes and moistened her lips. "Now...now what
are you doing?" she asked.
 
He was silent for a moment, obviously surprised that she had
spoken. "Now...I'm standing next to you and taking down your hair.
Is it braided?"
 
It wasn't, but she told him it was.
 
"I'm sliding the hairpins out, and loosening the braid. God, it
looks beautiful...the way it flows down over your shoulders in
ripples....they way it frames your face...it's so soft, baby. Smells
so damn good."
 
His tone was deeper and huskier, alerting her as to just
how aroused he was.  
 
"Your panties...do they have the little ribbons on the side to
hold them up?"
 
"Yes."
 
"All right then....I'm tugging them open. Slowly. Now, I'm pulling
them forward...between your legs. Then...."
 
Then what?  THEN WHAT??
 
"They smell good. Like you. Purely female."
 
A slow shudder moved over her body. This was the best phone
call she'd ever gotten!
 
"You look so sexy, standing there with only your shirt on...half-
way on...your hair all mussed from me playing with it."
 
"What's next?" she breathed.
 
"Now, I put my hands on your shoulders and push you back
gently, until you can feel the bed behind you. I make you lie
back on it, with your legs hanging over the side. I spread them
apart and stand between them."
 
Buffy was thankful for the opportunity to lie down, certain that
her knees were about to give out and she'd end up on the floor in
a panting heap.
 
"For a long time, I just look at you.  You're like a gift, just for
me.  Bare breasts...slender waist...all that perfect skin. And
between your legs...mmm...so pink and wet...open, like a
flower."
 
His voice flowed seductively into her ear, stirring up a reaction
that she felt all the way down to the soles of her feet.
 
"Finally...I can't wait one more moment. I'm getting drunk on
your scent and I fall to my knees. I want to worship you, 
baby. You're my goddess...my princess."
 
Buffy drew in a shaky breath. "And...who are you?"
 
She heard another wicked laugh. "I'm the man your mother
warned you about." 
 
Well, THAT was certainly true.
 
"I put my hands on your thighs, stroking them. Soft and warm,
but strong. I love the way they feel wrapped around me."
 
A tiny moan escaped from her throat.
 
"I lean down and kiss them, first one, and then the other. When
you're writhing beneath me, I move up your body to your breasts."
 
Buffy swallowed hard. "Oh...good."
 
"I'm above you now, kissing and licking your breasts. You want
more...and I give it to you...taking your nipples into my mouth.
Sucking on them. Over and over again.  You like that, don't you
baby?  When I suck your tits?"
 
Breathlessly, she whispered, "Yes..."
 
"I move back between your thighs. You're even wetter now,
and I want a taste of it.  So, I go down on you. I slide my
tongue into your pussy...as far as I can make it go. I wait for
a moment, moving it around inside you, then I start fucking
you with it."
 
A light sheen of perspiration broke out on her body.
 
"Listen close."  There was the metallic sound of a zipper
being opened. "Did you hear it?"
 
"Yes."
 
"Do you know what I did?"
 
"Uh-huh."
 
"Tell me."
 
Her voice was nearly inaudible. "You unzipped your...your
pants."
 
"Yes. I did. I climb up on the bed, straddling your thighs, and I
push them down a bit. Then I reach inside and..."
 
Her eyes closed as she tensed, waiting for it.
 
"...I take out my cock," he whispered hotly.  "I play with it a
little...slide my hand up and down while you watch. It gets slick
from the cum that's dripping out of it.  I keep jacking it, still
looking at you. The look on your face steals my breath. You
want it, don't you?  You want my cock."
 
Buffy whimpered an affirmative.
 
"I take your hand and wrap your little fingers around my
dick. That sweet, soft hand is pumping my cock, hard and
fast."
 
Yes. Yes, he liked that.  He had taught her how.
 
"Buffy...?"
 
"Yes?"
 
"Reach down and touch yourself. Play with your pussy."
 
Without a moment of hesitation, she cupped her hand over
her sex and massaged it gently.
 
"Now, rub your clit."
 
It took her a second, then her fingers found the seat of her
greatest pleasure.  Frantically aroused, she fingered herself in
search of...something....
 
"Keep doing that," Spike instructed, "while I slide my cock up
in that tight pussy. Oh, yeah..."
 
Buffy was quickly losing the ability to pay attention. She
rubbed and tugged at her clit, squeezing it firmly, holding on
to the image in her mind as best she could.
 
"I push you further up the bed so I can lay on top of you. I'm
pounding my cock in, faster and faster. Can you feel it? Feel
me just...ramming it in...ah, fuck...your arms are around me...I
can feel your nails digging into my back. Your hands slip
down and you grab my ass while I'm fucking you."
 
"Spike..."
 
"I'm fucking you so hard, baby. You're...you're taking my
cock all the way.  Clamping down on it...squeezing it...milk-
ing it."
 
Buffy murmured something unintelligible.
 
"You want it harder?  I'll give it you...give it to you as hard as you
can take it. I slide one hand under your right knee and lift it,
opening you even more."
 
She could hear the faint, wet sounds of his masturbating, and
it drove her own passion even higher. "Don't stop," she moaned.
 
"Never gonna stop, baby. Gonna fuck you forever."
 
The friction she created for herself was white hot. She was so
close...so close...
 
"Ahhh...Buffy!  Yeah...yeah...fuck me back...suck me with
your pussy."
 
Beneath her closed eyelids suns exploded, stars went super
nova.  She arched her back when she felt the contractions of
orgasm begin.
 
"Come on, love," he muttered harshly. "I'm gonna come...want
you...with me...I...oh...do it, baby!  Do it now...now...ahhh...yeah,
that's..."
 
Mutual cries of satisfaction traveled the phone lines, then turned
to soft gasps and panted moans.
 
"Buffy?  Honey?"
 
There was a voice coming from...somewhere.
 
"Sweetheart...you okay?"
 
"Define okay," she mumbled, wiping her sticky hand on the
sheet.
 
Spike chuckled knowingly. "I take it you liked that?"
 
"That's...that's a fair statement."  Buffy sighed deeply and
turned onto her side.
 
"Well, don't get too used to it. I'll be back tomorrow and
then it's my job again."
 
Yes, and then two days later...he would be gone again.
 
She almost said it, biting down on her lip to keep the un-
happy words from being uttered.  Like Scarlett O' Hara, she
would think about that tomorrow.
 
"Spike?"
 
"What, baby?"
 
"What are YOU wearing?"
 
 
 
 
 
 
(Time is almost up!)

 

 

Part thirty-three
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
 
 
 
The morning after their explosive telephone sex, Buffy
reluctantly went to work having gotten almost no sleep.
 
It wasn't just because she was still aroused after their
brief encounter, but also because her sleep patterns had
been permanently altered. 
 
In a very short time, she'd become accustomed to Spike
sleeping beside her and her body was rejecting his absence
by refusing to settle down, find a comfortable spot, and drift
off.
 
When she'd  finally managed to fall asleep,  her unconscious
mind had kicked in its two cents worth, keeping her slumber
light and restless.  She was so disoriented when the alarm
went off that she wasn't at all certain whether he'd really
called, or that she'd just wanted him to so badly she'd
imagined it.
 
She drifted through the day on autopilot, looking at the
clock every five minutes.
 
After settling her students down for their quiet time, she
sat down at her desk and mentally checked out for the
duration.
 
 
******************************
 
In the beginning, she'd counted the time they had left
in days.  Now, it was down to hours, and soon it would be
minutes.
 
Buffy missed Spike intensely. Being apart from him was
making her very unhappy, and if it was THIS bad now...when
he was only a couple of hours away...she couldn't even begin
to imagine how it would be once he stepped onto that bus.
 
It was all well and good to be brave and say that she would
be alright...would adjust...would keep busy...the time would
pass quickly...but honestly believing it was another thing
entirely. 
 
They're weren't enough things in the world she could do to
fill in all the empty time she was looking ahead to...time that
she'd never considered empty before Spike Devlin came along
and changed her life.
 
 
******************************
 
"Buffy?" 
 
Willow tapped her lightly on the shoulder, startling her out of
her light doze.
 
"Phone call."
 
Shaking her head to clear it a little, Buffy mumbled a soft
thanks.
 
"Hello?"
 
"Hi, gorgeous."
 
She smiled as she sank down into Willow's desk chair. "Where
are you?" she asked, keeping her fingers crossed, hoping to
hear that he was on his way back to Sunnydale.
 
"Stand up and look out the window."
 
Buffy peeked through the blinds and saw him standing next
to his car, cell phone in hand.
 
Her weariness instantly disappeared. She dropped the
phone into its cradle and almost ran out the door and into
his arms.
 
He caught her, wrapping her in the warmth and security of
his embrace, lifting her right off her feet.
 
"Hi, there," she said happily, kissing him long and hard.
 
"Have I ever told you I love the way you say 'hello'? "
 
With her arms locked around his neck, she kissed him
again with all the bottled up fervor she possessed.
 
"I guess this means you missed me."
 
"That's what it means."
 
"Love you."
 
"Love you, too."
 
She kissed him again, and by the time she pulled away
there was a crowd of children gathered around them, jumping
up and down and giggling like miniature fiends.
 
Devlin shrugged as he set Buffy back on her feet. "Good
thing I brought my guitar."
 
******************************
 
 
After an impromptu little concert for the students and
faculty of Willow Tree Preschool, Spike stayed and helped
Buffy straighten up her class room.
 
He followed her back to her house, where they locked
all the doors and took the phone off the hook.
 
"Did you miss me?" he asked, urging her towards the
stairs.
 
"Not really."
 
"Liar." 
 
She turned and ran up to her bedroom. Devlin stayed right
on her heels until he got to the doorway, where he stopped
and stared as Buffy turned to face him, lifting her dress off
over her head and tossing it aside. Her shoes were kicked
across the room, and then she was standing before him clad in
a peachy pink froth of lace and satin underwear.
 
"Are you coming in?"
 
Realizing that he was standing in the doorway with a stupid
look on his face and his tongue hanging out, he forced his feet
to move towards her.
 
Buffy waited until he was close, then turned and directed him to
sit on the side of the bed.
 
He reached for her, wanting to touch and taste every part
of her, wanting to gorge himself on her in an attempt to ward off
some of the pain of leaving her. 
 
With his hands on her waist, he bent his head and kissed
the soft skin of her stomach, intending to pull her down on
the bed.
 
But Buffy had something else in mind. "Lie down" she
said, pushing against his chest.
 
With a groan of protest, he obeyed.  She leaned over and
worked his belt buckle open, sliding it out through the loops and
dropping it on the floor.  The snap of his jeans popped open under
her investigating fingers, then his zipper slid smoothly down.
 
He lifted his hips when she asked him to, allowing her to remove
his pants.  They also were dropped to the floor, and he slid back
on the bed, yanking his shoes and socks off.
 
Kneeling beside him, she lowered her head to kiss him. He parted
his lips, waiting, then nearly died of shock when he felt her lean
down over his lap and take his straining erection into her mouth.
 
"Buffy!" he gasped, his back arching almost painfully.
 
"Hmmm?"  Her voice hummed, vibrating against his sensitive
flesh, making the pleasure even stronger.
 
He shuddered, one hand on her back, sliding it up and down
her warm skin.  His eyes nearly crossed as he stared up at the
ceiling.
 
Up and down her mouth slid, sucking hard on the upstroke. Her
little fingers came into play, gripping him firmly by the base of his
shaft as she moved her head from side to side.
 
Devlin was short on control. He'd missed her too much, and
her sweet little mouth felt too damn good. With every squeeze
of her fingers, every flick of her tongue over the head of his en-
gorged penis, his need became stronger.
 
Burying his fingers in her hair, he tried to push her off.
 
Buffy looked up at him, her eyes questioning his intent.
 
"Not like this," he whispered hoarsely. "Inside you."
 
She stood up and shimmied out of her underpants, then
knelt over him.
 
"Wait," he begged, his eyes dark with desire. "I...I haven't
done anything for you. Let me get you wet."
 
Smiling, she shook her head. "I am wet," she said,
taking his erection into her hand and rubbing it against her
crotch. "See?"
 
Without waiting for him to reply, she sank down on him
until he was completely inside her.
 
Spike put his hands on her hips to help her get started. When
she had found the right rhythm, he moved his hands up and
around, unfastening her bra and tossing it to one side.
 
"Oh...that's good," he murmured, arching his hips. "Ride me,
hard."
 
Fascinated, he watched her breasts bounce with his movements,
and he had to feel them. His hands slid up her sides, filling
themselves with her soft flesh.
 
She moaned, and he squeezed harder, almost wanting to leave
marks on her skin, bruises that would establish his claim on this
woman.
 
Buffy felt slick and full, bursts of pleasure rippling through her
body as she maintained her slow and steady pace.
 
But she was unaccustomed to such activity and didn't
know how long she could keep at it.
 
Devlin sensed that she was beginning to tire. He slipped his
hands up her back and pulled her down, then rolled them
over until he was on top and began to thrust hard and fast,
driving her to a nerve shattering orgasm.
 
Her body clamped down,  making him come, squeezing the
bursts of sticky fluid out of him.
 
With his control gone, he surrendered...hammering into her
until he made her grunt. The pleasure continued to build and
swell, until he was afraid he was going to pass out.
 
Only then did he force his body to be still, to stretch out on
top of his lover and lay his head on her breast.
 
"I'm sorry," he whispered, still panting. "That was...too fast.
I...I should have...waited...done more....for you...."
 
"Stop that," she said, stroking the back of his neck. "I
couldn't wait either. And we have all night."
 
Those words, whispered in her sultry sounding voice,
brought him back to instant life.
 
"This time," he said, beginning to stroke in and out
slowly, "I'll make it last a long...long...time."
 
Which was fine with Buffy.
 
 
******************************
 
 
He called her at school on Wednesday, asking her if she could
wait for him and follow him in her car while he turned in the
rented Mustang.
 
After leaving the car rental place, he took her out for dinner
and then drove back to her house.
 
They spent most of the  evening making love. In her bed, in the
shower, and...for old time's sake...on her kitchen counter.
 
Before settling down to sleep, she made herself ask him when
he needed to leave. 
 
"The bus is pulling out early," he said. "Around 5:30."
 
"So...should I set the alarm for 5:00?"
 
They exchanged a long, meaningful look before he instructed her
to set it for 4:30.
 
 
******************************
 
It was still dark when they left the house. 
 
The neighborhood had a strangely silent air to it, a deserted
feeling, almost as though everyone living there had inexplicably
disappeared during the night.
 
They walked to her car without speaking, Buffy's boot heels
clacking on the pavement, disturbing the odd peace and quiet.
 
Next door, the neighbor's dog began to bark. The sound
barely registered in her ears as she unlocked her car door.
 
Settling herself in the driver's seat, she inserted the key. A
brief hope flared in her heart; perhaps the car wouldn't start,
buying them just a little more time.
 
She squashed that notion instantly. Even if it happened, it
wouldn't delay things nearly long enough.  A few more minutes
wasn't going to make it hurt any less.
 
The point became moot when the car started right up.
 
They didn't speak much on the way to Union Jack's.  When she
pulled into the parking lot, Buffy saw lights on inside the club. The
rear entry door was propped open.
 
Clutching the steering wheel in a death grip, she watched as
people wandered in and out. Two men she'd never seen before
came out and climbed into the biggest bus she'd ever seen, followed
shortly after by the remaining members of 'Blue Eyed Devil'.
 
**It really is a hotel on wheels.**
 
Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at Spike. "You'd better
go before they start without you."
 
He smiled at the familiar words and responded properly. "They
can't start without me. It's my band."
 
Buffy couldn't find it in her to laugh, but she managed to
produce a tiny smile.
 
Devlin wasn't fooled. He felt as badly as she did, but there
was little he could do about it. "I'll call you tonight," he said
lamely.
 
"San Francisco, right?"  She stared out the window.
 
"Yeah. We'll be there by 3:00. Get settled in at the hotel
and check out the arena."
 
Buffy nodded, swallowing hard past the ache in her
throat. "I'll talk to you tonight then."
 
Placing his hand on her chin, he turned her to face him.
"Don't cry, darling," he whispered. "I'll be back."
 
She smiled as best she could. "And I'll be waiting."
 
He pulled her into a desperate embrace, covering her
trembling lips with his and projecting every bit of his love
for her into his kiss.
 
The bus driver started the machine's powerful engine.
 
There was no more time left.
 
Making himself let go, he whispered, "I love you," and
opened the car door.
 
Buffy opened her door as well, standing and holding on to
the roof to steady her shaky knees.
 
With a wave, Spike walked away, his heels crunching into
the gravel.  The door of the bus swung open with a hiss.
 
He grabbed the rail and set his foot on the bottom step,
then turned to look back at Buffy with a lopsided grin. "Don't
you forget me."
 
She smiled back. "Never," she said, watching the doors
swallow him up.
 
After the bus pulled away and disappeared into the murky
gray of approaching dawn, Buffy sank down into the seat of
her car with her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
 
Now, she could let it go...could give in to it...let it wash
over her...let it drown her. 
 
There was no more need for false courage, because there
was no one around to see.
 
Now....she could cry.
 

 

Continue...

.