I slowly walked into the library -- or the study, as my lover prefers to call it. The word library tends to bring up memories, both good and bad. But those days are long behind us.

I raised my hands, stretching slightly. I had just awoke from a long nap and had come to this room on the other side of the house, so that I did not disturb my love who was still in the midst of the dark shadows of sleep. After last night he deserves his rest.

It's not like I need excuse to come to this room, however. I love the library. Out of all the rooms in the house, it has to be my favorite. The atmosphere is great. I love the smell of the olds books. I love to run my fingers over their spines, searching for that elusive book. But most of all, I love my computer in the corner. As much as I love books, the keys of my computer still appeal to me.

I picked up my book -- 'The Handmaids Tale' -- from where I had left it the last time I had been in this room. I flipped open to where I had marked my last stopping place. Slowly I became emerged in the tale of Offred.

After about an hour, arms from the back of the chair suddenly snaked around my shoulders. I jumped about a foot. "Ah!" I squealed at my attacker.

My lover chuckled softly, leaning down so that his face was next to mine. "Easy, love," he purred in my ear.

I bones liquefied. His purr could still melt me into a puddle after the five years we have been *close.* It amazes me that he has that power over me. The passion in our relationship has not faded either. We seem to discover each other in new and fascinating ways everyday. Needless to say, our lives are not dull.

"Like that, sweet?" he asked. Damn. Him and his enhanced senses. He claims he can smell my arousal from miles away... I don't know about that but it makes being aloof -- playing hard to get, impossible.

I tilted my head back and captured his lips. He returned my kiss with impassioned fervor. With a moan, I slipped my tongue in between his lips and explored the cold, wet cavity of his mouth. He picked me up out of my chair and started carrying me off. I placed my hands on his well muscled chest and pushed back from him.

"Where are we going?" I asked with a slight grin.

"Y' know very well where we are going, my red headed vixen," he breathed, with a small chuckle.

He carried me the rest of the way to our bedroom in silence. Effortlessly, he laid me down on the bed we shared. I expected him to join me but he just stood over me, watching. His eyes simply bore down on to me, not his touch that I desired.

After a minute of his inane gazing, I leaned up and reached out to him. Quickly and easily, he lightly slapped my hand away and pushed me back down. This in itself was not a shock. My lover had always been the dominant one in our relationship. He never over stepped his bounds but he was the initiator.

"Have patience, little one," he chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. Gently, he trailed a finger down the bridge of my nose over my lips, to a spot between my breasts. He captured my arms and held them over my head with one hand. His grip was loose; I could break free anytime I wanted to. That was, assuming I wanted to.

He slowly unbuttoned my nightshirt with his free hand, exposing unprotected flesh. Using his free hand he slowly cupped my breasts. His fingers pinched gently at my nipples, bringing them to hard points. I closed my eyes and arched my body toward him, trying to get as much contact as possible.

My lover lowered his lips to my skin, forgetting about my arms. I quickly twisted my newly freed hands in his hair, holding his mouth to my body. His cold tongue worked over my body with short little flicks then lingered with long sensuous licks. I wanted nothing more than for him to be inside me.

His hands roamed my body fueling my desire. His hands moved lower brushed my curls. His mischievous fingers ran up and down my folds without penetrating them. I reached down and grabbed his arm, trying to get him to touch me more intimately.

He laughed against my skin. "Impatient, aren't y'?"

"Aren't I always?" I shot back.

He reached down and sifted his hands through my red hair. "I wonder if all this pretty red hair is t' cause of all that, pet," he mused.

Ignoring my glare, he continued to stroke my hair from the roots to ends. Roots to ends. Slowly.

Grrr. Wrapping my legs around him, I used my strength to flip us over so that I was sitting on top of him. I shrugged my night shirt off and then began unfastening his pants.

"Y' really are the impatient one," my lover said, chuckling deep in his chest.

The laughter died in his chest as I wrapped my hand around his shaft. Groaning, he pushed his hips up towards my hand. Firmly, I stroked his length, flicking my thumb over the head. I ran my nails along the underside of his cock. He growled softly, giving me the response I knew I would incite.

With a wicked grin, I dipped my head. My tongue darted out and tasted the head of his shaft, tasting the pre-cum that had begun to ooze from the tip. My lover threaded his hands through my hair but did not apply any pressure. Slowly, I engulfed the tip and swirled my tongue along the bottom. I worked my down, taking the full length of my lover's cock. Gently, I pulled back and then repeated the motion.

After about a minute of doing that, my lover grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up. Capturing my mouth in a searing kiss, he flipped us over so that he was on top. He trailed his fingers down my body and parted my folds. With fingers hurried by lust, he ran his fingers over my clit before plunging them in my moist tunnel.

My lover withdrew his fingers until they almost out of me and then plunged them back in. I moaned as his fingers penetrated and caressed my intimate flesh. The sensation of his fingers was always welcomed. His digits continued to piston out of my channel. His thumb brushed lightly over my clit, sending sparks of delight through me. His talented fingers quickly brought me to a peak. But before I could go over it, my lover abruptly removed his fingers. My unsatisfied whines quickly became sighs of pleasure, as he carefully, he inserted his cock inside of me.

My lover soon set a steady rhythm. I met each one of his thrusts with one of my own. Our hips ground together passionately. We grabbed at each other desperately trying to reach our peak as we melted into each other. Pleasure built but was seemingly out of reach. Suddenly, my lover's face transformed and he sunk his fangs into the column of my throat.

"Spiiiiiikkkke!" His name bubbled from my lips as his small act thrust us both into mindless pleasure.

Slowly, we came back down from the heights of passion. Spike gently withdrew his fangs from my neck and began to lick at the blood which seeped from the wound. I sighed. I was never sure which was better...the climax or the closeness of afterglow.

Wrapping my hands in his hair I pulled Spike away from my neck. I captured kiss lips in a brief kiss. I pushed back against the bed and looked at his.

"I love you, Spike," I said softly, gazing into his eyes.

"I love you too, Willow, " he answered automatically.

Spike moved off of me and settled beside me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled closer to him. He buried his head into my neck and continued to lave my wound.

Afterglow definitely had its finer points.