Title: Playing with Fire (Part 3 of the 'Coming Home' Series)
Author: DivaDelilah (divadelilah@aol.com)
Description: Short fic, set after Buffy's return, now becoming a series. Spoilers
Season 6
Disclaimer: In short, not mine. Joss/Fox/SandDollar/Mutant Enemy/UPN own all.
Distribution: FFN, Death Marked Love, Willow's Ripper, anything else I okay,
including award sites and various lists. Hell, just tell me where it's going
J
Feedback: Mmmmmmmm…feedback. @dr00l@
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"Luv?"
"Mmmmm?"
"Are we bloody floating?"
Buffy looked down at their feet, which were dangling about a foot off the floor.
Quirking an eyebrow, she swiveled her gaze around until her gaze met Willow's.
The redheaded witch winked, then twitched her nose, causing their feet to once
again touch the ground. "I think this means Mom approves," she replied
drily.
Spike smiled against her ear. For some reason, it had become important to him
that her friends accept them. He didn't want her to alienate herself from what
little family she had left. His breath hissed through his teeth when he felt
Buffy rubbing her little hands down his back and over his ass, squeezing it
playfully. "I think, pet, that you had better stop playing with fire,"
he growled, grinding his hips against hers.
She grinned naughtily, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Didn't you ever
just want to play with matches anyways?"
"I think you already did that once. Burnt a great factory down, as I recall.
And there was an incident with a flaming organ, something about a school gymnasium…
Perhaps fire is not your friend, pet," he teased.
"Maybe I want to play with fire," she said, her lower pouting at
him, begging to be kissed.
He groaned. "Well, you know what they say about playing with fire."
He picked her up and began carrying her out the door of the Bronze. "You
might just get burned."
**************************************************
With preternatural speed, Spike ran toward Revello Drive, his yellow eyes blazing.
His arms clutched Buffy to him tightly, afraid she would suddenly disappear.
When he reached her house, he flung the door open, and stepped inside, the demon
mask slipping away. He set Buffy on her feet gently, feeling almost as if his
undead heart was about begin hammering in nervousness.
She smiled gently, her fingers cupping his cheek. "Why, Spike, are you
nervous? You're shaking," she teased lightly.
"Yeah, I'm a right poncy bugger, Slayer. I feel like I'm a high schooler
about to lose his cherry," he said, grinning evilly.
She giggled at his bluntness. Spike always told her the truth, well almost
always, and it comforted her. Her breath caught when she looked up into his
eyes, the intensity burning her form the inside out. Unconsciously, she stepped
forward, closing the distance between them.
Spike's lips came crashing down on hers, stealing her breath. His tongue teased
her lower lip, asking permission. Buffy sighed, and her mouth opened to him,
and he growled hungrily. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush
against him. Reality seemed to fly out the window as they kissed over and over,
each kiss sweeter, more intoxicating than the previous one.
Buffy gasped for breath when their lips parted. Her arms had found their way
around his neck and shoulders clutching him to her desperately. Her mind was
spinning, and her heart was about to leap out of her chest. The last time she
had been this caught up in a just a kiss…was too long ago to think about.
Her body tingled in anticipation and she wondered just how far she was going
to let this go. Do I want to make love with Spike? Did I say love? Oh God…She
turned her thought back to Spike, who was sliding his hands over her rear in
a torturously slow caress.
Spike was drowning. His body was on fire being pressed this close to Buffy,
and he didn't care if he burst into flames right there. She was kissing him
like she didn't care fit here was a tomorrow, and his hands were roaming her
body freely. Did she just grind her hips against me? Are her hands under
my shirt? Spike prayed fervently to a deity that didn't listen to demons
like him that Buffy wouldn't regain whatever faculties she had lost the moment
her hot little hands had slid up his chest tentatively. What a way to go…
Buffy tore her lips away from Spike's, breath heaving with arousal. Grinning,
she raised her arms and tossed her shirt to the floor, leaving her chest bare
to his widening eyes. She tugged on the hem of his shirt as well, waiting for
him to get the hint. When it was obvious he was still stuck on her attire, she
reached up and ripped his shirt from the collar, pushing the sides apart. Damn,
and I really liked that shirt, too, she thought. Sighing at his sculpted
muscles, she leaned in and peppered small kisses and licks over his pectoral
muscles. He shuddered, and she ground her hips against his again, hoping he
was going to take the hint soon.
Spike raised his eyes from her chest, gazing into Buffy's glazed pupils. The
invitation in her eyes almost made him gasp. She wants to…she wants
me to… he stuttered in his head. His hand reached and caressed her
cheek lightly, and when she turned her face and bit his hand, eyes glinting
with arousal, he lost every vestige of control he had. His demon flared, and
he grabbed her into his arms, racing up the stairs two at a time.
Dropping her on the bed, Spike dove on top of her, his thighs burrowing between
hers. She squeaked, and he graced her with his trademark smirk. His face fell
when a thought occurred to him. "Buffy, where's the Nibblet?" he ground
out, trying to ignore the way her thigh felt around his.
She blinked, trying to let the question penetrate her lust fogged brain. "Dawn?
Where…is…Dawn? Oh!" She smacked her head. "She's at a friend's
house tonight. We have the place to ourselves," she whispered, a big goofy
grin coming over her face when he snarled playfully.
"Then I think, Slayer, that you are in for the best night of your life,"
he bragged.
"Talk about letting your ass overload your mouth," she muttered,
squeezing his butt.
He cut off her next comment with a searing kiss, and she forgot what she was
saying. Her hands scratched furrows in his back as he rotated his hips on top
of hers. Her eager hands moved his to his breasts, and she smiled as he sucked
in a deep breath. A shuddering gasp erupted from her lips when he took her nipple
between his teeth and nibbled, and a rumbling chuckle followed.
"Have a thing for biting, eh, Slayer?" Her mewling moan was answer
enough for him, and he moved his lips up to her neck, biting lightly here and
there. Does she really want me to? I don't even know if I want to or if I
can. Maybe this should wait… Spike wisely moved away from her pulsing
jugular until he decided what how he felt about biting Buffy for real.
Buffy arched her hips up, rubbing his erection, and clawed at his pants. They
had too many clothes on. Her hands reached for his zipper, dragging it down
before he even realized what she was up to. Thanking the heavens that Spike
didn't wear underwear, she pulled his jeans down over his ass.
"No need to rush now, Slayer," he teased, kicking his chinos down
his legs.
"I beg to differ," she replied, sliding her legs back around his
waist. "I think I've been waiting long enough."
Spike nearly tore her leather pants off trying to get hem down her legs. She
giggled and he scowled at her. When they were finally tossed aside, his eyes
roamed over her hungrily. He ripped her tiny underwear off, throwing them over
his shoulder as he kissed his way down her belly. Her gasping moans egged him
on, and he licked sucked lower until she began keening, babbling his name over
and over again. He kept up the sweet torture until she came, shivering and breathing
harshly in the dark.
Buffy clawed at his shoulders, pulling him up her body until his lips met hers
in an intensely passionate kiss. He looked deeply into her eyes, asking permission
before he entered her. A small laugh bubbled from her lips, and she smiled hugely,
nodding her head. Then Spike was inside her, moving and stroking in places she'd
never known existed. My God…he's…it's… Her thoughts jumbled
together, making no logical sense as she felt her body building toward another
climax. "Spike… Spike, I can't.." she gasped out. "Please…"
Looking at her face, he knew what she wanted. Bracing himself for pain, Spike
leaned down, shifting his demon face forward and bit softly into her neck. He
tried to tell himself he didn't bite her directly over Angel's mark on purpose,
but his orgasm hit before he could even contemplate the meaning of such an action.
He roared like a beast, vaguely aware of Buffy screaming his name, and collapsed
on top of her, spent.
She raised her head weakly, running a hand down his back lightly. Typical man, she thought. Asleep before I can even tell him I love him. Oh, well, I can tell him tomorrow. She grinned to herself when she realized that she had just played with fire…and what a way to burn it had been. Yawning, she wrapped her arms around him, and shifted a bit so she could breathe, then drifted off to sleep.