Giving In

AUTHOR: Jypzrose
EMAIL: jypzrose@aol.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike
SETTING: Somewhere alternate S2
DISCLAIMER: Please, it all belongs to Joss. If it belonged to me, S7 would have ended a lot differently.
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He stalked through the night, a cigarette dangling from his pouty bottom lip, a glint of gold gleaming in his vibrant blue eyes. He was pissed, tired and horny. And it all had to do with one little bitch.

Ah, there she was. Dancing with her friends, gyrating her body like she was fucking the air. Her eyes closed and her mouth slack with pleasure, like she was enjoying a long, slow orgasm.

God he hated her.

God, how he wanted to fuck her blind.

This was stupid and wrong. He was in love with Dru. She was his life, his everything. If vampires could have soul mates, she was his. But, ever since he'd saw the tiny blonde bitch, he'd been able to think of nothing else. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with killing her. Or, not anymore. At first, he'd managed to twist his fantasies to suit what he thought he wanted. But, soon, at the most inopportune times, his subconscious would let him know what he really wanted. That he wanted to pound into that tight little body until she was screaming, her fingernail digging deep gashes in his shoulders, his back while his cock pulsed inside her.

Even now, his body betrayed him. Watching her dance, his dick danced to life behind the button fly of his jeans, the rivets digging painfully into his flesh. He prowled around the edge of the dance floor, staying in the shadows to avoid being seen. She didn't' seem to be on duty tonight, if there were a way to turn off her calling. She was just out with her friends, laughing and playing like children. But, that dress was anything but childlike. Black as night and short enough to show a glimpse of the tanned flesh beneath, she was a study of the above average Lolita. Her young body, tight and muscular and oh so golden was forbidden fruit to him. He had never felt this way about the other Slayers. They were just status symbols to him. The dance had been fun, exciting. But, he had never obsessed about what was under their clothes. All that had mattered to him was their blood.

Not this one.

With a growl, he dropped his cigarette on the floor and crushed it out with a violent twist of his boot. His face rippled with his demon visage, and he snarled at the couple standing next to him, practically fucking against the wall. They scurried off without a backwards glance, the smell of their fear doing nothing to lighten his mood. Sex, liquor and an overabundance of teenage hormones swirled in the air around him, fueling the fire burning in his borrowed blood. His eyes never left her as they made the trio made their way back to the table. Laughing and talking like there wasn't a care in the world. Bitch.

How could she sit there, acting like she was just a normal girl. She should be tied up in as many knots as he was. She should be the one dealing with sleepless nights (or days in his case) and struggling with not calling out his name while the Great Git was pawing at her with his too big hands.

He watched them as she turned down some pimple faced college shit, eyes narrowed with rage and lust. He couldn't get her out of her mind, couldn't stop the images from of her naked, her tender, teenage breasts rose tipped, the golden curls of her sex glistening with her juices. God, he wanted to taste her. He wanted to bury himself between her legs for as long as it took to purge her from his system. He had a bad feeling though, that doing any of the things he fantasized about would do nothing more than increase this insane lust he had for her.

Enough, he growled. Not knowing exactly what he was going to do, Spike stepped out onto the dance floor and pulled out a cigarette. He watched as her eyes seemed to instantly fall on him. He grinned, a sharp feral smile and fancied himself that he saw her shiver. He took a drag, not noticing her little friends as they started to whisper frantically in the Slayer's ear. All he saw was her. All he felt was her eyes taking him in, and in his imagination at least, wanting him as much as he wanted her. He slowly took the cigarette out of his mouth, expelled the smoke in a slow stream, then offered her a little salute before sliding back into the shadows of the crowd.

In a matter of seconds, he was outside, leaning against the wall of he alley. He didn't have long to wait.

She stormed into the alley, her blonde hair and tangled, sweat dampened toss around her head. Her skin was flushed and her hazel eyes wide and hot. All of this was from anger he was sure, but he couldn't help the little hope that this was her reaction to him as a man and not a vampire.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" she growled-god, how it made his cock pulse in his jeans. She took a step forward, her eyes snapping even as a stake appeared as if out of nowhere. A scarred brow shot up and he took a second pondering just where she could have hid it. His blue, blue eyes slid over every inch of her, boldly tracing the curves of her young body. He was practically salivating by the time his gaze made it up to hers again and a little to close to begging for his taste.

"Free country, luv. Or did you miss that part in history class?" he replied, his voice a low, sensual purr. He was sure he saw her tremble this time and a wicked, knowing grin spread across his face.

"Not for you it isn't." She took a step forward, staked raised as if she were going to strike. But, she didn't. She seemed intent on trying to scare him as opposed to actually fighting him. Well, bully tactics didn't work on him. Just ask Angel.

"Not sure they made stipulations about the undead in the Constitution, luv." Again, his eyes trailed brazenly over her, and to him, it seemed her skin flushed even deeper. There was no mistaking the way her nipples tightened under his gaze, the hard nubbins pressing hard against the thin material of her dress.

"Don't call me luv." she snapped, shifting uncomfortably on the ridiculous heels she was wearing. "And quit staring at me." Spike curled his tongue behind his lower lip and pushed away from the wall. The hand that had been resting on the waistband of his jeans brushed suggestively across the obvious lump in his pants. Buffy's eyes dropped unconsciously to the action, her eyes widening comically. His sneer widened when those hazel eyes shot back up to his. He knew he didn't mistake the shot of desire flashing through them. A purposeful breath through his nose confirmed it. He savored the sharp, sweet tang of her arousal and took a step forward. He didn't flinch when the stake raised an inch, confident that she wouldn't try to use it. She was so mixed up with all her conflicting emotions he would be gone before she even had a chance.

"Make me," he was right up in her face now, his body barely an inch from hers. He had dipped his head low to whisper his dare in her ear and he was close enough to feel the shiver slide over her this time. "I can smell you, Slayer."

"You're disgusting," she hissed back. Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly with her uneven breaths, the action making the soft globes strain against the bodice of her dress. He stared at the tops of the creamy mounds, his tongue sliding across his lower lip in anticipation.

"Am I?" he slowly raised a hand, one eye on the stake. "I think you like me looking at you. I think you like it that I'm so hard from just looking at you. You want me to be, you little tease. You like that I want to fuck you so bad it consumes me."

"Pig," she spat, turning her head to glare at him. The problem was, she didn't judge their distance well enough. With the movement of her head, his cool lips brushed across her heated cheek and she couldn't stop the tiny moan from escaping her throat. She gasped in surprised want when the hand he had been raising whispered across the front of her dress, brushing so lightly against her nipples she wondered if she had imagined it. A sharp pang lanced through her abdomen and she had to struggle to keep her knees from buckling. Unconsciously, she leaned towards the touch, seeking to increase the contact.

Spike captured his bottom lip between his teeth as his blue eyes considered her. They were so close, she could feel the leather of his duster against her arm, could smell the beer he'd had inside on his cool breath blowing across her face. She felt some satisfaction somewhere in the quagmire that was her inner turmoil that his breathing wasn't any more calm than hers.

Good, she thought. Why should she be the only one suffering from this sick fascination. Since the first night she had seen him in this very same alley, she couldn't get him out of her head. The way those razor sharp cheeks had looked in the shadows, the way his incredibly blue eyes had slid over her. Hell, even the way he'd told her was going to kill her had goose bumps pricking up on her skin. And not in that fear for her own life sort of way.

"I'm disappointed, luv," he dragged the endearment out, wrapping his mouth around it like he wanted to do to those sweet, tender tits straining toward him. He watched her eyes glaze briefly and felt a jolt of triumph. "I've heard you come up with much wittier comments to those bleedin fledglings you stake every night."

"You watch me?" The idea shouldn't have excited her like it did. But, the thought of him, watching her in the shadows like some sort of voyeur send a bolt of electricity across the tops of her nerve endings.

"Every night," he admitted, his voice a husky whisper against her ear. A wave of heat flooded her panties when the tip of his tongue darted out to swipe the pink shell of her ear. She almost had to grasp him to keep from melting. Almost. She managed to pull herself back in time.

"Oh," was all her sexually charged mind could come up with and it sounded entirely too close to a moan for her comfort. But, what else was she supposed to do when those clever fingers were playing so lightly across her bodice? She was the Slayer yes, but she wasn't made of steel. She bowed toward him and sucked in a ragged breath when she felt those fingers slide along the top of her dress, then dip inside.

"Its up to you, kitten." The eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed snapped open when she realized he wasn't' as close as he was before. In fact, he was standing in the mouth of the alley, a fresh cigarette dangling from that annoyingly sexy bottom lip. "I'll be there til sun up." She glanced down at her bodice and saw the scrap of paper he had tucked there. With a trembling hand she reached up and plucked it out, opening it and reading it and unconsciously memorizing it before tossing it away like it had burned her. Her eyes were hot and angry when they sought him out again and she let out a curse when she realized he was gone.

"Ass." she spat, sliding her stake back into its hiding spot. He was crazy if he thought she would meet him at some seedy location to. . to. . .she didn't even want to contemplate what he wanted to do.

But that was all she did as she made her way back into the Bronze to tell Willow and Xander that she was going to patrol.

***

Spike tried hard not to grin when the knock sounded on the motel room door an hour later. He really did. Unfortunately, he was so damn relieved that she had actually showed up he couldn't help himself. He took his time sauntering towards the door. After all, he had been waiting an hour, she could squirm for a few minutes.

Buffy's heart was slamming against her chest and her mind was screaming at her to get the hell out of there. But, just as she was turning to bolt home and forget that she had ever even considered this, the door swung open. Spike stood before her, wearing only his jeans and a smirk. Normally, the smirk would have had her reaching for the stake she always carried. But the sight of the most well defined pecs and abs she had ever seen tossed that thought out and only allowed the single word ‘yum' to vibrate through her mind.

"Hello, kitten." he purred, reaching out a hand. She stared at it for a long moment, knowing that if she took it everything was going to change. "Don't be afraid," the fact that he said that should have been laughable. But, the quiet assurance in his voice had her reaching out to take his hand, his cool fingers closing around hers making her tremble with hot need. She followed when he gave her arm a gentle tug. Once she was in the room, the sound of the door closing was like a seal on their fate. There was no turning back now, for either of them.

Buffy jumped when his hands closed over her bare shoulders and gently kneaded them. She stood as stiff as a board under his touch, her body refusing to relax into the rhythmic prodding of his fingers.

"Come, on, kitten. Relax," he urged, pausing long enough to pull her hair off her neck. She stiffened further when his lips closed over the tender flesh at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. But, soon, the insistent massage of his fingers and the gentle sucking of his mouth had her leaning back into his lean hard length. When she tilted her head to afford him more access, he obliged her by gently nipping and sucking his way up the column of her throat to capture her ear between his lips.

She moaned low in her throat and strained back against him, her blood starting to race as she felt his hands slide from her shoulders. She brought a hand up to his neck, lightly pressing to increase the feel of his tongue against her skin. When his hand curved possessively around her breast, his thumb flicking over the tightened nub, she nearly sobbed with pleasure. God, how she wanted to feel that hand against bare skin, sliding over her until she was begging for him. Not that she would ever admit that out loud of course. She didn't beg.

"Bloody hell, Buffy. I've wanted this since the second I saw you," he breathed in her ear, his lust filled admission almost buckling her knees. His other hand covered her other breast and he rolled his palm over it slowly, making her whimper. "So hot. So sweet." His lips were trailing along her cheek and her head turned to try to capture them with her own. He gave her mouth a quick nip with his blunt, human teeth but evaded her trying to deepen the contact. He slid on hand over her cloth covered stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake on its way down to the short hem of her skirt. Her hips bucked against him, urging him on and bumping her rounded ass back against his erection. They both moaned at the contact.

Her fingers tightened against his neck when she felt her dress start to slide up, the ghostly feel of his callous roughened fingertips on her skin making her gasp.

"You're so hot," he whispered, the heat from her skin warming him straight to his nonexistent soul. He felt like she was branding him, just from standing against him like this. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to finally bury himself deep inside of her. "Turn around kitten." It was on shaky legs that she complied and her eyes stayed trained to the middle of his chest. He tucked a finger under her chin and forced her head up to meet the blue fire of eyes. "Don't look away." he ordered, sliding his hands under the dress and pulling it up her body. His hands teased along her skin, molding the quivering flesh as he pulled the black material over her head.

When she was finally exposed full to his view, Spike took his time feasting his eyes on the body he had dreamed about for months. She stood before him, clad only in a thong and her heels, her golden hair fanned around her shoulders like a halo of sunshine. His unneeded breath caught in his throat and all his blood seemed to drain and center in the throbbing erection trying desperately to burst free from his pants. His gaze scorched her as he took in the soft, young curves of her form. So sleek with muscle, vibrating with power given to her by the Powers that Be. But feminine and budding with sexuality.

Buffy started to grow uncomfortable under the passionate blue eyes devouring every inch of her. She raised her hands to cover, only to have them captured in his steely grasp.

"Don't hide. You have nothing to be ashamed of," he told her, his voice full of reverence and awe and none of the usual smirking sarcasm she was used to hearing. "I want to touch you, Buffy. I want to feel you under me, surrounding me. Take me in, Buffy." He stepped closer to her as he spoke, his words sliding like gossamer wings over her, the sound of her name erotic. The tones of his British accent had smoothed out from its usual harsh lilt, making him sound almost elegant.

"Yes," she heard herself say, almost as if she weren't really the one speaking. His face softened at her whispered ascent, making him seem almost boyish even as passion flared hot and bright in his eyes. Then, finally, his lips were on hers and all coherent thought vanished beneath the cool desperation of his kiss.

His mouth played softly over hers, teasing it open with gentle stabs of his tongue. She moaned as her lips fell apart, her own tongue darting out to touch his. His hands were cupping her face, holding her still so he could take his fill of the sweetness of her mouth. He slid his tongue inside, exploring the wet, hot cavern before allowing hers to slide along his in a sensual dance. Her hands closed around his wrists to keep her upright as the power of the kiss washed over her like a violent wave in the sea. The ache that had formed in the center of her abdomen tightened to a throb, sending out shock waves through her body. Need like she had never felt before, even with Angel, had her pressing against him, sliding her breasts across his chest and making her nipples tingle.

"God, Buffy." he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, his chest heaving in gasps of air. She felt powerful that she could turn this strong, confident vampire into a quivering, shuddering mass of breathy gasps. Without really realizing it, one of her hands dropped to the band of his jeans, and with a gentle tug, the fly was open, his erection popping free from the restraint eagerly. It bumped against the warmth of her fingers, the slight touch making him hiss and the blue eyes boring into hers flashing gold.

"Please, Spike," she breathed, sliding her hand from the top of the wiry curls at the base of his shaft, up over his stomach and chest. The muscle rippled under her fingers, delighting her. She squealed when she suddenly found herself lifted in his steely arms. His eyes were near black as he looked down at her before taking the short distance to the bed in long strides. He lowered her to the mattress, pressing kisses against her cheek, her throat, her hair. She easily lifted her hips when his fingers hooked in the band of her panties and started to slide them down over her sleek thighs. Once they were free, he held them up to his nose and breathed deep, her skin turning crimson with the action.

"Delicious," he decided, tucking the black scrap into his pocket. Then, he grasped an ankle, and slid his tongue over it, eliciting a tiny moan from the back of her throat. He sank to his knees at the side of the bed, never releasing his hold on her leg. His mouth traveled over the silky skin, nipping and licking his way closer to her dripping wet center. By the time he reached the joint of her thigh, she thought she might explode from the tension tightening her stomach. She writhed her hips against the bed, desperate for friction.

"Dammit," she hissed, opening her desire hazed eyes to glare at him, when instead of heeding her insistent hips, he skipped over the center of her need and worked his mouth along her other leg. She bristled with annoyance when he chuckled at her.

"What do you want, kitten?" Oh great, now he needed instruction? Somehow that didn't work into any of the fantasies that had played out on her way here. "Do you want me to fuck you with my mouth?" her skin flushed and a fresh wave of arousal stabbed through her with his vulgar words. She barely managed to nod through the shudder that raced over her. An evil grin curved his sensual lips and the tongue that she wanted so desperately on her heated skin tucked itself away inside his bottom lip. "Gonna have to do better than that, luv." he told her, tortuously sliding his thumb along her slit.

"Oh God," she gasped, bucking against the evasive hand. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her skin, making it seem to glow in the soft lamp light. Her fingers plucked restlessly at the comforter, and her head tossed on the bed.

"What was that?" he was about ready to pop, watching her wanton reactions to just the gentlest touch. But, she was going to say it, even if he had to send her home an aching unsatisfied mess and go wank off in the shower. She was going to say it.

"Yes!" she cried with the next swipe of that teasing thumb along her core. Her eyes watched as he raised that hand to his mouth and licked the traces of her dew off the pad.

"Open up for me, kitten," he said, chuckling at how eagerly her knees fell wider apart. He wrapped his long fingered hands around her thighs and slid her quivering body closer to him. He took a few, precious seconds to breathe in her sweet scent, to relish the idea that is was HIM that turned her into this trembling mass of nerve endings. Then, he tangled his fingers in her soft, wiry curls and opened her up, growling at the glistening pink flesh just begging for his touch.

By the time his wickedly clever tongue finally plunged deep into her waiting hole, Buffy was wound so tight that she started to come almost immediately. The heels of her shoes dug into his back as she used them for leverage to grind her cunt hard against his face, the pain of it making his cock jerk and ooze with precum. He growled against her core, the vibration making her whimper and mewl, the shockwaves of her orgasm becoming impossibly harder. Spike drank up the juices flooding his face and chin, cleaning her thoroughly before latching his lips around her clit and sucking hard.

A shriek ripped from her throat and her eyes rolled back in her head, bordering on unconscious as another intense climax tore through her. Again, Spike licked her clean, savoring the clean, sweet warmth that flooded his mouth a second time. When he was satisfied, he slid up her limp body and pressed an almost chaste kiss against her mouth.

"Mmm," she purred, lazily opening her eyes to look at him.

"My turn," he whispered, taking one, boneless hand and bringing it to his throbbing erection. Eagerly, her hand fisted around him, enclosing the engorged flesh in her hot little grip. "Fuck," he spat, guiding her hand under his in long strokes. "So good. Buffy, ah. . ." Too soon, the feel of her inexperienced touch sliding over his skin, the nails of her other hand scraping the sac encasing his balls had him shooting in long, hard spurts all over their linked hands.

Buffy watched in fascination as pleasure made his midnight eyes flash gold and his face twist up as if he were in exquisite agony. During some of their desperate make out sessions, Angel would let her hand slip below the waistband of his jeans and she would jerk him off. But, never had he looked quite this beautiful coming as Spike did.

When the last spasm passed over him, Spike pulled her hand away from him, and raised it to his mouth. To her shock, her licked their linked fingers clean, the sight of it causing an erotic haze to settle over her brain. He flashed her a grin at her wide eyed expression and dipped his head to crush her lips with his. Buffy moaned and sucked hard on his thrusting tongue, tasting their combined essences. She spread her thighs further apart when he shifted to lay between them, sliding his jeans down as he moved.

"I'm going to fuck you now, kitten. I'm going to pound you through this mattress until neither of us can stand."

All Right!, her mind screamed happily, even though all she could muster was a mute nod at his promise. He used one hand to trap hers above her head, while the other danced between them. His mouth latched onto a straining nipple, nipping it with his teeth and curling his tongue around it to soothe the pin sharp pain. Buffy bucked beneath him, amazed that her body was on fire this soon after being so fully satiated. She strained against his grip, wanting to grab him and hold him to her while these sensations rolled slickly over her skin. Her hips jerked when his thumb found and pressed against her clit, and she yanked at her wrists again to no avail.

When his mouth traveled to the other breast to continue his sensual torture there, Buffy felt the thick tip of his cock probing the soft folds of her core. She thrust, trying to push him inside and fill the void she hadn't realized was there until now.

Spike was hanging on by a thread. Despite just having the most powerful orgasm of his unlife in the hands of his enemy, his cock wasn't satiated. It wanted inside of her and it was quite fed up with Spike's fooling around. Unable to hold back any longer, he raised his head to look at her as he positioned himself at her tight, hot entrance. In a last ditch effort to finally get him inside, Buffy's legs wrapped around his hips and contracted. She used her Slayer strength to force their pelvises together, forcing him inside of her and through the barrier marking her virginity. A strange sounding scream of pleasure filled pain ripped from her, just as the scent of her blood reached his nose.

How Spike managed to stay completely still with all that fiery heat yielding to his invading shaft was a miracle. But, the evidence of her purity, the scent of her blood the sound of her scream broke through his sexual haze like a slap of cold water. He was her first. This thought reverberated around in his mind like a mad ping pong ball, making him dizzy. Something broke inside of him, something that took this encounter from the purging of sexual fascination that it was to something else. Something more tender, more beautiful. It scared him.

He shook his head and looked down at her, cursing the tears he saw lingering on the edges of her lashes. Leaning down, he brushed his lips across her eyes, tasting the saltiness as her lids fluttered open.

"Sh, luv. The worst is over. Relax, feel," he urged, rolling his hips against her.

"Oh," her eyes and her mouth formed a perfect circle with the wild jolt of pleasure that shot through her. Her legs tightened around his waist and she gave an experimental thrust with her hips. "Ooooh," she moaned again, her head lolling to the side to expose the curve of her throat to his hungry mouth. He happily buried his lips there and started to thrust, long slow strokes to allow her body to get used to him.

Buffy had never felt anything so wonderful as being so completely filled. It had hurt at first, but, now. . .God. . . the feel of his cool shaft sliding in and out of her fanned the flames that had died when she first forced him inside. Spike ran his hand down her side to slide it under her ass, angling her hips so he could pushed deeper. Her eyes rolled back and a sound caught between and sob and scream escaped her slack lips when he hit something inside of her that sent electric pulses shooting through her. Spike watched her face intently, experimenting with his thrusts with what her noises indicated felt best. He was dying to let go, to pound into her so hard her screams brought down the hotel. But, he held himself back, reminding himself that this was her first time.

Over and over he plunged into her, the sweat coating her body making their friction slick. She strained against his hand, trying to break free so she could move, but his grip was like steel. She was so beautiful like this, a woman waking up to her own sexuality. He needed to hold onto her to make it real. Maybe if he could keep her captured, if only in his hand for a short while, he could hold onto whatever it was that was making his undead heart swell in his chest.

"Oh, oh, oooooh Spiiiike!" his undoing came in her scream of his name, and the fluttering of her inner walls around him as she started to cum again. The scorching heat that was the inside of her channel clamped hard around him, shoving him forcibly over the edge. He released her wrists to use both hands on her hips and finally gave in to the need to just pound into her. Buffy's now free hands flew over his soft platinum hair, his shoulders, his back. Anywhere she could reach she touched. The force of his hips slamming into hers, the slapping of their bodies as they came together hard had his sac tightening within seconds and without realizing it, he buried his vamped face into her throat and sank his fangs into her skin.

She screeched, long and loud then went completely limp as his body emptied into hers and his mouth pulled one, long gulp of her blood onto his tongue. The power of that final orgasm made her black out momentarily. When she came to, she felt like she was floating, despite the comfortable weight of the vampire on top of her. She quickly realized that she wasn't dead and he wasn't going to kill her with the gentle, reverent swipes of his tongue against his bite.

When he finally raised his head to look at her, she saw no apology in the cerulean depths. What she did she, was indiscernible, and her brows drew together as she tried to figure it out.

"Spike," she started, only to be shushed by a long finger.

"Sh, kitten. No words." He said, a sad look flashing across his face for the briefest of seconds. She thought about arguing, thought about forcing him to deal with whatever had just happened between them. But, as they stared at each other, she realized what had brought on the sad expression. There could be no more than this. Life had played a cruel joke on them by making them want their mortal enemy. "Go to sleep."

"Will you still be here in the morning?" she asked, not sure why she had, since that was impossible. Maybe she just wanted him to lie to her. And he happily obliged.

"Yes, luv. I will."

But, just as they had both known, he wasn't there when Buffy had finally been unable to put off the inevitable no longer. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and turned her head to where he had been laying, cuddled next to her most of the night keeping her warm despite the natural coolness of his body. Instead of a platinum head resting on the pillow, was a note, written on the hotel stationary. Tears already dripped down her cheeks as she reached out for it, her watery gaze tracing the sloping letters of her name.

Buffy,

Dru and I will be leaving town tomorrow. We won't bother you any more.

Spike

The letter fluttered to the bed as Buffy buried her face in her hands and cried, the healed over mark on her neck the only thing he left behind.

~fini~