~PBiB : Spike Fic : Daddy(NC-17 version)~
As soon as Buffy had wedged the attic door shut, he was upon her. It seemed like his mouth and his hands were everywhere at once, making her feel flushed. When his blunt teeth nipped down the column of her throat, she felt a kind of dizziness rising from the pit of her stomach. Gasping, Buffy took control of the situation.
Firmly, she shoved him backwards. Spike looked up, his expression dazed and lustful. "What?"
Buffy didn't explain, just pushed him again. When his legs hit the edge of the couch, he understood. Wrapping his arms around her, he sat down heavily, pulling her onto his lap. She wiggled around, and he groaned to feel her movement against his straining erection.
A small smile of self-satisfaction teased Buffy's lips when she managed to straddle his lap. Spike's hands tightened convulsively around her. Even through their clothing, he could feel the heat radiating from her center. It made him weak in the knees. Good thing he was sitting down. Spike's eyes fluttered shut as Buffy ground down against him and claimed his mouth in a brutal kiss. Ah- a very good thing. Mmm.
His hips bucked up against her, hands moving to undo the clasps of her overalls. Skin as soft as silk hid underneath that cotton shirt, but it trembled under his touch. Roughened fingertips glided across her stomach and back, causing Buffy to pull away from his mouth with a muted gasp. She licked her kiss-swollen lips, lifting her arms.
Spike immediately granted the unspoken request, pulling her shirt over her head and letting it fall to the ground. He took advantage of their brief separation, using it to shrug out of his duster. Almost reverently, Spike let his eyes wander over her body. She was so beautiful like this. He stared fixated at the way her breasts moved in time with her breathing, the way they filled up the silken cups of the white, lacy bra. With care akin to an act of worship, Spike ran his hands slowly up her bare sides.
Buffy swayed slightly, suddenly impatient to feel him skin to skin. Jerking up the hem to his shirt, she leaned forward, capturing his mouth once more. As her tongue probed and stroked through his mouth, she raked her nails across his exposed abdomen.
"Jesus!" Spike gasped, tearing his mouth away as he thrust up against her. He glanced down, seeing a row of red furrows rising against his pale skin. A lustful whimper escaped him.
"Mmmm. I don't think that's the right name, sweetie..." she breathed huskily next to his ear, lowering her mouth to his neck. Delicately, she traced her tongue along his jugular, following it nearly up to his hairline. Then, she seized his earlobe with her teeth, tugging gently.
"Oh God..."
Her tongue swirled through the canal. "Wrong again." Nip.
A heady rush of sensual power was sweeping through Buffy. Even though she was so aroused that she ached all over, she just couldn't get enough. This powerful, dangerous young man was at her mercy. She was doing this to him. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, tugging his shirt up past his chest. Buffy slid down his body some, her mouth begining to tease one nipple. She could feel his heart pounding beneath his breast.
Spike struggled to pull the t-shirt over his head. It's not that he didn't want to. It's that his fine motor control kept eluding him. All of his attention and sensation was centered around that hot little mouth, and the wicked things she was doing to his pebble-hard nipples. He finally triumphed, letting the fabric drop from his hand as her teeth scraped across his tender flesh. His breathing grew harsh. He wet his lips. When her hand reached down to squeeze him through his jeans, he almost swallowed his tongue. Can't...
With a small growl, Spike grabbed her by the waist and tossed her down onto the couch. Buffy landed on her back with a small, pleased gasp. Her eyes flashed with lust as he impatiently tugged the overalls down her legs. She groaned when he darted his tongue into her navel, and began to exact revenge for her actions. One handed, without looking, Spike flicked loose her bra clasp and tugged the garment. Buffy took the hint, and slid the straps down her shoulders. He pulled back, feverishly taking in the sight of his girlfriend, clad only in a pair of white cotton panties.
Meeting his gaze, Buffy arched provocatively, thrusting her hips up against him. "So what are you going to do with me now?"
Spike just smirked, suddenly dropping his head to nip the inner curve of her breast. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue.
Buffy whimpered at the liquid sensations surrounding her peaked nipple - the warmth, the contact. The feel of calloused fingertips caressing her other breast in perfect counterpoint. She was beyond lust. Beyond want. "I need you, Spike. God - please," she begged, her spine arching uncontrollably. She hooked a leg over his hip, pulling her down against him for the blessed friction she so craved. His hardness pressed against her clit, but it only made her want more. "Please," she repeated, hands caressing the back of his neck and shoulders.
Spike moaned around her nipple, sending delicious vibrations through the sensitive flesh. His free hand began to fumble with his waist band, undoing the button and practically tearing down the zipper. Smooth legs helped him kick off his boots and wriggle out of his jeans. Within seconds, both teens moaned. Flesh to flesh, just what they needed. He could feel the gush of hot arousal between her thighs.
Spike looked up, kissing Buffy gently as he removed the last barrier between them. Soaked panties were shoved to the floor. Pushing himself up with one hand, Spike traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue. Hazel eyes clouded with desire stared back at him, silently pleading for her release.
Spike wanted to tease her. He wanted to make her crazy before it was over. But he just couldn't wait any longer. Not with the head of his cock brushing so enticingly through a pool of her honeyed moisture. Not with the way she was arching and pressing herself against him. With a hiss, he began to press his way inside. Not slowly, by any means, but not with brutal force.
Sliding into her slick, hot channel was a moment of sheer, sensual bliss. They both moaned. Buffy's legs wrapped around his waist. "Oh, God - more!" she demanded.
He was only too happy to oblige. Spike pulled back, then sunk back inside, balls-deep. He did it again. And again. Faster. He cupped her cheek as she began to move with him, wanting her to look at him.
Buffy's mouth fell open as she panted. The way they were laying, the way he was moving - she was being filled and fucked and cherished, all at once. He was brushing her clit with every thrust, and she could feel the glorious heat rising in the bottom of her stomach. Two more thrusts, and Buffy was cast over the edge. Hot pleasure shot through her, and she thrashed spasmotically as she clenched and unclenched around him.
Spike slowed his thrusts, revelling in the way she fluttered and squeezed around him. Still hard, still panting, he lowered his mouth to her neck, leaving moist kisses along her throat. When he felt her body begin to relax, he began to thrust again. Faster, then slower. Deep, then shallow. He changed angle, changed rhythm, twisted and rolled his hips in his single-minded pursuit of maximum pleasure.
Buffy pulled him down on top of her, his weight solid and comfortable. She shifted her hips, trying to match his unpredictable movements, trying to give back to him. Trying to sate the desire that was rising up again. Desperately, she clutched him closer, hands wandering frantically, scratching down his spine.
Spike growled, pounding harder, faster.
Her breathing quickened, small noises escaping her as she felt her second orgasm rapidly approach. "Uh... ah... ungh... Spike!" Again, her muscles clenched around him. Again, she felt a wave of blinding pleasure uncurl and seep through her sweating body. She went limp against the cushions, boneless and sated.
Spike gasped when she called his name, climax exploding through him as he felt her inner muscled clamping down on him. "Christ..." he swore, pulling out violently to spill his seed across her bared stomach. His breathing still ragged, he tried not to crush her as he collapsed from exhaustion.
"Mmm."
A respectable while later, Buffy hunted for her bra among a stack of styrafoam props. They could have been fenceposts, or perhaps pieces of a replica of the Statue of Liberty. But that was beside the point.
Rumpled, sated, and amused, Spike watched her search. His jeans were still unzipped, his shirt wrinkled and untucked. The duster was slung over the back of the couch. In his hand, he toyed with the scrap of lace and satin he had found between the couch cushions. The self-same item that his girlfriend was hunting so assiduously. I'd just tell her, but she's so cute when she's getting annoyed...
"Spike, do you have any idea where you threw it? I mean, it can't have gone too far..." Nibbling her lower lip, Buffy shoved through another pile of cardboard and plastic.
"Dunno, pet. We did get a little athletic, though." His smirk was positively impish.
Buffy looked back at him, and caught sight of her bra dangling from his hand. "Spike!"
He laughed, shaking the undergarment. "Oh, this, you meant?"
"Why, I ought to..." she stalked towards him menacingly. God, he looks so sexy all sprawled out like that... Mm.
"Nuh-uh, pet." Spike set his tongue against his front teeth. "You want it back, you've got to earn it." His beringed brow twitched at her.
"Oh... Like this, maybe?" Buffy dropped to her knees in front of him, reaching to tug on his jeans.
Her next actions made Spike's eyes roll up into the back of his head, and his nerveless hand dropped her bra onto the seat beside him. At that point, he no longer cared.
Soft lips closed around the head of his rapidly hardening cock, tongue flicking around the slit. She chuckled, deep in her throat, the vibrations causing Spike's erection to spring fully to life. His hand clenched fitfully, the warmth and wetness almost too much for him. But she was so gentle, caressing his friction-sensitized member with her tongue. Teeth were carefully tucked away. And then she began to suckle.
By massive force of will, Spike managed not to buck his hips and choke her. That talented mouth slid further down his cock, a small hand wrapping around the base. He could feel movement, her tongue flicking over the ridges and veins. It was heaven. It was torment. He never wanted it to stop.
"More," he gasped out, and she listened.
Buffy swallowed. She could feel his erection slipping down her throat, and she held him there. She swallowed again, then pulled away. "Is that what you wanted?" she panted.
Spike just moaned. He whimpered. He thrashed.
She smiled. "Guess that's an affirmative."
Buffy licked her lips, and pushed him back into her mouth. She tightened her lips, starting to apply suction as she looked up at him with wide, lust-filled eyes.
Spike almost came from that look alone. But it was a moot point, since the next swirl, the next suck... that hand starting to pump him almost violently in counterpoint to her lips' movements...
"Buffy!"
She swallowed greedily, licking and sucking until every last, delicious drop disappeared.
With a low groan, Spike let his head drop back with a 'thud'. "You'll be the death of me yet, love."
Buffy laughed, shrugging into her bra. "I think it's been said about a million times, but it doesn't make it any less true... But what a way to go!"
Spike chuckled, reaching up to briefly touch her cheek. "Yeah, pet. What a way to go."
Ok, ok, you've had your smut. Now clean yourself up. 
And go back to the PLOT. *grin*
(But first, tell me how grateful you are that I made you all hot under the collar.) Kiss and Tell!