Author: Alley, aka MarstersLady, 07/22/04
Rating: :covering Mom's eyes: NC-17
Feedback: MarstersLady[at]gmail.com
Spoilers: Mid Season 6 of Buffy
Distribution: summer_of_spike community on LiveJournal
Pairing: Spike and Buffy, of course.
Summary: Some pretty nifty Dead Things dailies recently came to my attention. I decided there had to be something more to the story. I began shamelessly with direct quotes from the episode, and then continued on to .. fill in the blanks, so to speak.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created this world we live in, and I'm just taking his characters out for profit-free playtime. This is the first time I'm writing something that I'm sharing under my own name, and boy did I ever laugh at myself a lot as I wrote. Many thanks to venus_blue, who hates Spuffy, and yet helped me to just let go.

"But you like what I do to you."

Buffy squirmed on the cold floor under the rug and looked down, unsure of how she wanted to answer. Spike leaned away from her, rummaging through the debris strewn about the room. They'd missed the bed again.

He turned back to Buffy, holding up handcuffs looped casually over his thumb. "Do you trust me?" The cuffs swayed with his motions, catching light from the candles he'd lit in anticipation of her arrival.

She raised her eyes to look into his. Her pulse quickened, her breath catching at all that she saw in his gaze.

"Never."

They both held the glance for a moment, heat traveling between them again, visions of possibilities filling her mind, taunting her, pulling her in to want more. He was the first to break the eye contact, making a self-mocking sound in the back of his throat as he dropped his hand and the cuffs.

She spoke before she could change her mind, blurting her words out in a rush in her haste. "Do you trust me?"

He smiled languidly and quirked an eyebrow up at her, his eyes closing then opening slowly and seductively as he said, "What'd you have in mind, love?"

She reached over him and picked up the handcuffs from where he'd dropped them, and said in a husky voice, "I was thinking of trying something new. The bed, for instance?"

She cuffed his hands above his head, making sure that his pillow was fluffed. She moved on to the other pillow, pounding on it with her fist, beating it into submission. "Oh, God," she muttered under her breath, already regretting what she hadn't yet done.

Spike smiled up at Buffy, laughter threatening to escape as he watched her work out nervous tension.

"Slayer. Buffy. Love." He drew out the endearment with a low timbre that was almost a groan, finally getting her attention.

She looked down at him as he lay there. Her eyes moved hurriedly from his wrists, captured in the cuffs that she knew he could escape from if he really wanted to, down muscled arms... Realization dawned on her suddenly. He could escape. This was a game.

She flicked eyes again to his, sharing a glance. A game. The expression in his eyes was full of lust and longing. A game where she was in control, she decided what would and wouldn't happen, and he would just .. let it happen. He wanted it to happen.

She crawled further up the bed and knelt beside his arm, softly tracing the veins running along his wrist with her fingertips. She heard him sigh, and looked quickly to his face. He had closed his eyes, and had an appearance of pure bliss. She smiled to herself, touching her fingers lightly to the scar on his eyebrow, over his cheekbones, his jaw, across his lips, and down the side of his neck. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, and she leaned forward, pressing her hands down into the bed on either side of him, the bed shifting with her weight. She touched her mouth to his scar, her tongue darting out for a taste. She kissed his cheekbones with gentle lingering kisses. Her tongue ran along his jaw, from earlobe to chin, stopping there only to bite him with a teasing nibble.

He opened his eyes and groaned, raising his lips to hers. She pulled away before he could reach her. Her game. She pushed his head back down to the pillow firmly, turning his head to the side so that she could lick a path down his neck, sucking for a moment where the vein pulsed against the skin. His hips bucked up off of the bed as he gasped.

"You liked that, huh?"

"Love, I love.. the things you do to me.. amazing.."

Buffy put a finger over his lips, quieting him. "Shh." Their eyes met again, and he sucked her finger into his mouth, teasing his tongue along the length as she pulled it free.

"Buffy, let me kiss you."

She shook her head, her short hair flaring around her face. "Nope. Stop talking. You're ruining my fun." She flung a leg over his waist, and bent to rain kisses along his collarbone. Her exploring hands found scratches across his chest, and flashes of memory assailed her, reminding her that she had given the marks to him earlier in her passion.

"I'm ..sorry. For hurting you, I mean."

His eyes opened. "Stop that."

"Why? I .."

"I'm not sorry. Helps, you know? Keeps it in my head, after you're gone."

"Alright, then I take it back. I'm not sorry. You deserved it." A teasing lilt crept into her voice with the words. "Play your cards right, and I'll do it again." She raked her fingernails playfully over his chest.

He gave her the wicked smile again, arms held tight above his head, eyes heavy lidded. "Promises, promises, love."

Her ardor restored, gentleness gone, she kissed and licked a path down his body, before taking him fully into her mouth without warning. He again bucked up against her, gasping at the shock of the sudden warmth surrounding him.

"Buffy, please.."

She raised large eyes up to his face, never stopping what she was doing. Up and down, loving the feel of his velvet skin moving over the hardness, the salty sweet taste. She took the length of him into her hand, stroking him as she ran her tongue up the underside, and back down again. Again. Watching his face react, listening to the deep guttural groans escaping from his mouth. Deep into her mouth again, her hands roaming up over the tight skin on his abdomen, feather-soft touches across his nipples before pinching them both between her fingers. She ran her hands over ribs and more flesh, before ending on the sides of his ass, running her hands underneath to take his cheeks by the handfuls.

"Buffy.. please."

Buffy moved up his body, settling her hips over his own, sliding down onto him with a sigh as he filled her, inch by inch. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, rocking against him, finding her rhythm. Her hands rose unbidden to her hair, fingers getting lost within before gliding down her body over tight nipples. Her head rolled back again, all thoughts of "wrong" and "no" lost in the pleasure she was feeling.

She looked down at Spike, and saw him watching her as she rode him, wanting nothing from her at that moment, only to watch her release.

"That's right, Slayer. Dance with me."

She let her hands trail slowly up his body, up the muscles in his arms, up to the wrists still held encased within the handcuffs, keeping up a steady rhythm. She snapped the cuffs off with small flicks of her wrists, and he was free.

He immediately rose up to a sitting position beneath her, finally able to kiss her as she rode him, faster and faster, her legs wrapping tightly around his back, her hands on his shoulders, and his hands circling her waist, lifting her again and again. She slipped her arms around his back, one hand holding his head as they kissed with a hot fervor, wanting to devour one another.

He suddenly changed position again while still inside her, wanting to be on top. They wrestled for dominance, laughing as they fell from the bed to the floor again, ending up beneath the rug with him on top. He braced his arms on the floor to support his weight, and began thrusting, harder and harder, their foreheads pressed against eachother, her fingers trailing down his arm in a claw, scratching him again. He pulled away a bit, and she leaned up, gasping, missing his closeness, and bit into the flesh of his arm, tasting his skin and feeling the muscles bunch beneath her teeth.

His tempo increased, and she came beneath him, gasping and clawing, rising against him as she moaned her release. He trembled as he came into her, her name unspoken on his lips as he pulled her close to hold her. Their foreheads touched again as they gasped for breath, relearning to breath, eyes closed.

She fell asleep while he was still inside her, and he stayed above her, unmoving for a moment, watching as she dreamed. He lifted her carefully and brought her to his bed, spooning against her as he laid them down. He wanted to hold her until she would inevitably awaken, rushing out with a curt remark cast over her shoulder his direction.

He moved her hair out of her face with a gentle touch, and slid his hand down her body, resting it against her hip. She leaned into him with a sigh. For then, for just that moment, he held her, defenses down, and trusted her, as she was trusting him, sleeping within his arms.