All About Spike - Plain Version
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All Over It
By NautiBitz
Summary: Pre-Lover's Walk, Buffy's gotta stop an apocalypse. Luckily,
Spike's back in town and has just the stuff she needs.
Timeline: Early Season 3, post-Revelations, pre-Lover's
Walk (which doesn't happen, exactly).
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Buffy, Spike and Sunnydale, et al, are property of Mutant
Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. I merely use them as pawns
in my perverse fantasies, and sometimes for chores.
Author's Note: After playing several rounds of the Buffy XBox game (which
takes place in S3 and has oodles of ooh-baby S/B subtext), Lovebytez
came up with this smutty little plot bunny and the title "Intercourse
with a Vampire". I ran with it, and as is often the case, went off on
a crazy tangent. This fic is dedicated to her.
Distribution: Please ask first -
nautibitz@yahoo.com.
Feedback: I'm all over it.
Series Started/Completed: February 2003. Wha? How? I don't know.
There's
an idea... He closed his eyes, kept them shut.
Gradually, he felt her ever so slightly begin to move beneath him, with
him. That's it, baby, that's it...
Did she know he could go all night if he wanted to? And did she really
want this over with right away? How much time did they have, anyway?
When she pinched his nipples, he ceased to care. He quickened the pace,
arched and bowed, dipping just three inches of his cock in and out of
her welling, suctioning entry, again and again...
She let her knees touch his hips, brought one foot down the back of his
pantleg. "Mm..."
"Slayer," he whispered, opening his eyes to see her roll her
head back on the pillow, sliding her tongue over her lips. "So fucking
beautiful..."
Panting, eyes wide, she pulled him down by the nape of his neck and surged
against him, taking him all the way in.
He gasped. She gasped louder.
Their eyes locked.
"Buffy?" Giles called from the living room.
"Fine, Giles!" her voice cracked.
Spike reared back slightly and buried his cock to the hilt. Light burst
behind his eyes. Nothing slicker, tighter...better in all the world. No
one better suited for his bed either, because suddenly she was present,
right there with him, undulating against him, craving him as he craved
her.
"Slayer," he said possessively.
"Buffy," she corrected.
"Buffy, fuck," he whispered, and yanked her dress up to her
breasts, tearing the fabric on the way. She tried pulling it further but
it wouldn't budge--so he ripped it in two, finally free to clasp his mouth
over her nipple.
Moaning as quietly as she could, she wrapped her legs around his back,
running her feet up and down his legs, sliding his jeans off with each
downward motion. All the while, she pitched up to meet his pelvis, listening
to the sound of their flesh meeting, the bed squeaking; feeling his tongue
lash at her nipple, his cock filling her, his body enveloping hers, letting
him take her, have her, right there, who cared...
He lifted his head to press his cheek against hers. "Buffy, Buffy,
Buffy," he chanted, driving into her wildly, cupping a hand under
her ass.
She stretched her arms up above her head, fingers touching the headboard.
"Yes!"
He bent to lick and pinch and suck her other nipple.
"Oh, god, Spike!" So amazing... Amazingly amazing... The
most... incredible... "Mm...mm, mm," she hummed as she...
she was gonna...ohgod...
He felt her inner walls constrict, felt her nails dig into his back, her
body tense up...
Don't scream, whatever you do don't scream... To muffle any errant
sound she might make, she sank her teeth into his shoulder.
A groan caught in his throat. She's biting me, and oh, fuck, her quim...
Emitting short, tethered moans of release, her body shook to its climax,
her pussy wringing and strangling his cock, each expansion bringing with
it more sweet come...
Even after she was spent, Spike could feel her exquisite little aftershocks.
My turn now... He wrapped his arms around her back, lifted her
up off the bed and proceeded to fuck the hell out of her.
"Hunh! Hunh! Hunh!"
God, that sound, that body...this girl. He whispered feverishly,
"Buffy! Buffy! Buffy! Fuck!" Finally, he jerked her close, holding
her hips tightly as he let loose a primal roar.
Through her post-orgasmic haze, Buffy saw a bright light. She looked down
her stomach at Spike... It was emanating from the amulet.
Was it bad that she'd forgotten all about this part?
But wait...something was wrong. Spike had begun to contort, twist and
scream--not in ecstasy. In agony.
"Spike!" she gasped, trying to break free, make it stop. It
was no use--they were stuck until the spell decided to unstick them.
A brilliant amber glow spiraled up her torso, lighting her from the inside
out.
"You tricked me!" he wailed, falling out of her and off the
bed.
That's when a searing pain grabbed her by the skull--and all she could
do was scream.
***
"Buffy!" Giles shook her awake.
She opened her eyes.
"Good lord," he said.
"What?"
"Your eyes...they're, they're glowing."
"It worked?" she asked, holding the sheet Giles must have draped
over her.
"Uh...it appears to have worked, yes."
Spike.
She sat up and saw him on the floor, seizuring. Flinging the sheet
aside, she ran to him to find that his eyes were sunken in, staring blankly,
his body bluish-white and waif-thin. "Spike? Spike! Are you..."
"I don't think he can hear you, Buffy."
"Oh god," she stood up, quivering, hand over her mouth. Why
do terrible things happen to every man I have sex with? "You
didn't tell me this would happen! Why didn't you tell me this would happen?"
"I--I didn't know. Honestly. But I suppose one must always assume
that when there's a transfer of power, the donor is enervated--"
"Into this?"
"Well, I--"
She grabbed him by his collar. "But it reverses, right? Tell me it
reverses when I kill that Monolith motherfucker."
"Buffy, I fail to see the--"
"Dammit!" she stamped her foot. "Will it go away when I
kill Grosh?"
"I'm not...quite sure." He looked frightened.
Stupid idiot. She wanted to wring his neck.
"Are you all right, Buffy?"
"All right? Oh, I'm great. This was the best idea ever." She
released her hold on him.
"Buffy," he fingered his neck, "We need to get you to Grosh
immediately. I don't like what this is doing to you."
"Because glowy eyes equals demon, right?"
"Well, that; your temper...and the fact that you've stomped a hole
in my floor."
She looked down, and stumbled back. There was a depression in the rug
where her foot had impacted.
"Holy..."
He was right. Something was happening to her, changing in her. She wanted
to destroy things. And not just the floor. "Giles? Let's go. Now."
***
"Ya big loser," Buffy eulogized, watching Grosh collapse into
a dead heap.
As she wiped the remains of his heart from her hands, her body shook,
her legs gave way, and she fell to the floor.
"Buffy!" Giles came running, watching amber light fly out of
her body and up through the altar ceiling.
"I'm okay," she said. "Little nauseous."
He helped her up. "Well, you're green again."
"What?" she touched her face.
"Your eyes."
"Oh," she nodded. "I don't think glowy's really my color.
I'm sorry, Giles, about the--"
He shook his head. "I'm proud of you, Buffy. You managed to avert
yet another apocalypse, this time without succumbing to the darkness that
blasted spell obviously wrought."
"What was that, anyway?"
"I believe you were infused with the lifeforce of the demon. Not
only Spike's demon, but its entire power source."
"Nifty. Book didn't mention that either, huh?"
He shook his head and smiled. "Ancients do enjoy being vague."
"Stupid ancients." She looked at him. "Giles? Please don't
get the wrong idea, but I...I need to go back and--"
"See if Spike is all right."
"Yeah."
***
Buffy ran up the steps and into Giles' bedroom. "Spike?"
No Spike. No clothes of Spike. Nothing but that obnoxious amulet on the
bed.
He was gone.
Continued in Chapter Five: Turnabout's Foreplay