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Bring It On Home

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It turned out he’d been right: the constant smiles and kisses and looks of one certain Buffy Summers turned one certain vampire, of former bloody glory, to a ridiculous puddle of goo. For the rest of the evening he couldn’t help but grin, smirk, and most ridiculously beam at the little woman, probably looking to anyone around him like a lovesick puppy. He felt certain that at some point in the future, maybe the next day or month, he would eventually mind that — but definitely not just then.

As it was, it was a good thing that they decided to stay at the carnival until its closing, since there was yet another Human Versus Demon Wannabe Fight To The Death (which ended up with the three humans and two demons involved lightly caressing each other as soon as the witches arrived with their no-violence spell). Buffy was still the one with the most authority there, so she settled the dispute right quick. Almost quickly enough not to make Spike look like a total tit, standing there and looking at her with what were surely languid eyes. He was too busy basking to give a fig.

And then it was over, and the carnival was closing, and the two of them were riding with the other slayers to their hotel. This time, while Buffy was still riding shotgun, Spike couldn’t really find the energy to give any other slayer his attention: he spent the ride leaning forward and bantering with her, trying to see just how many times he could make her smile, or laugh, or give that little snort when she was trying not to laugh but couldn’t really manage it. The other slayers had turned out to be more than accepting with him even after his little speech about vampire nature a few days back, and he'd been thrilled to go back to comfortable banter with them in the past few days. Right now though, as much as he could feel their stares from the rest of the car, God knew he couldn’t give a fig about that either.

The ride was too short and too long, and now they were standing in front of Buffy’s room, and suddenly her promise of wanting him all to herself seemed too good to be true. Did she really want..?

“So, yeah, this is me.” Her smile was shy, and was this even happening?

“Afraid I knew that already, pet.” He smirked at her, repressing the urge to trap her in against her door within his arms, to press her to him until her legs were around his waist — he coughed a bit, trying to clear his head. “Buffy, if you don’t want to —”

“D’you wanna come in —”

They talked over each other, her blushing and him feeling some blood rushing up too, and then they were laughing again. (Yes, laughing, not giggling. He was ready to swear to that.) He brought a hand up to touch her cheek, his thumb stroking her soft skin.

“Only if you’re —” Comfortable? Not scared I’m gonna assault you? Absolutely bloody sure you won’t change your mind, please? “If you want, yes, pet.”

“I do,” she nodded eagerly. He exhaled a breath and leaned forward for a kiss.

He’d thought it’d be soft and sweet, but pretty soon he was pressing her against the door and she was rocking against him, and his cock was getting hard and her tongue was driving him crazy. He did raise her by her waist, then, until her legs slid up, ankles hooking behind him, and God, the way she thrust right into him…

“Buffy,” he breathed, rocking back against her, pressing her into her door. “Buffy, please, open the door.”

She just nodded, looking at him with wild eyes, and then kissed him again. Which, of course, stopped her from getting the hotel room key, which in turn meant that it took them a few full minutes to finally negotiate their arms apart from each other just enough for him to get the damn key and open the damn door — and then he entered the room with her in his arms, turned, kicked the door closed and slammed her back against it. She gave a heavenly whine against his mouth and he saw stars on his closed eyelids.

“Pet,” he murmured against her lips, moving then to nibble and kiss on her jaw, her ear, her neck, his whole body vibrating at her slight moans. “Buffy,” he whispered, one of his hands tracing her ass, her thigh, until he hooked it behind her knee and raised her leg, draping it against his torso. His groin rolled against hers just right and she gave a long moan against his parted lips. “Love,” he breathed, making her whimper with another, harsher thrust against her core. God, she was so hot, he could already feel it through their clothes — he couldn’t wait anymore, so he slid his hand down from her knee and pressed it against her hot, hot centre, making her moan again.

Spike… please…”

“Yes,” he gritted out, his hand picking up a pace of circling, merciless strokes, her ba-boom-ba-boom thumping heart feeding his brain the most entrancing rhythm in the world. “Tell me you like this, kitten,” he muttered, his lips going to graze her ear, his whole body feeling her shiver at their touch. “Tell me you like my hands,” he gripped her arse hard with his other hand, “my body against yours,” he moved his hand up so he could thrust against her again, eating her moan of pleasure, “my tongue against your skin,” he kissed behind her jaw, open-mouthed, shivering at the keen sound she made.

His heart almost beat at her moans of "Yes" and at the way she whined when he moved his hand away again from her crotch — until she realised he was unbuttoning her jeans and sliding his hand inside, under her drenched panties, through her hair, and then finally — 

"Christ, you're so wet," he moaned against the skin of her neck, shivering at the whimper she gave. 

"Spike, Spike, uhn, please," she mewled, making his rock-hard cock twitch painfully against his zip, her hands frantic on his shoulders, "please, I need you —" 

"I'm right here," he whispered in her ear, his tongue going to flick her there, his whole body thrusting into hers at her whimper. His fingers stopped tracing her entrance and he shifted so he could enter her with one finger. "Christ! Yes, pet, moan for me, just like that —" 

"Oh, God —" 

"Yeah," he growled, now two fingers in, biting lightly on the soft skin of her delicious neck. "Yeah, baby, squeeze me. God, I love your muscles —" 

"Spike!" She moved one of her hands from her frantic grasp of his shoulders and went to grip his hair, hard, forcing his head back. He twisted his fingers inside her, adding a third and grinning wickedly at her 'oh' expression. Then she focused her gaze again and glared daggers at him. "Spike," she almost growled, making him thrust hard against her, "I want you inside. Now," she added, but the strength of her tone was somewhat mellowed by her moan. 

"You'll have me, baby, all of me," he gasped back, his eyes rolling at the way she tightened mercilessly around his three fingers. "But please, let me have this… God, I love feeling you come apart around me," he muttered, shifting his hand so that his thumb could circle around her clit. She shuddered around him, thrusting against his hand. 

"You'll… uh, you'll pay for this l-later," she whispered in a trembling voice and he chuckled in her ear, biting back a groan at her moan. 

"Can't wait for it, pet," he whispered back. Then he left a trail of kisses to her lips, claiming them in a harsh kiss, eating up her little moans like ambrosia. "For now," he muttered against her lips, his hand picking up the pace, his other one shifting on her ass to grab her better, "wanna see you come like this, kitten. All hot and bothered in my arms, clothes still on, against the door of your room —" 


"Christ, I love your whines," he whimpered, and then he was kissing her, his whole body rocking against hers, his cock straining against his zip as his hand stroked her and stroked her, relentless. She kept making the sweetest, hottest sounds — breathless 'oh's and 'ah's and 'uhn's, and he was so bloody hard against her, he thought maybe he couldn't take it and would just shred his own zip and fuck her against the damn door. But then she made this noise — a long, low moan — and she squeezed his fingers, her whole body trembling and her hands gripping his hair so hard he felt some of it leave his scalp. He moaned too, his face going to bury itself in her neck as she came around him, passing her shudder to him. 

For a few more seconds he could hardly feel anything other than his cock, hard and twitching and bloody painful against his jeans zip, and the way her fingers twisting in his hair seemed directly connected to it. He couldn't help a little whimper when she sighed and moved his head back, just enough to look at him. Her eyes were so intense he couldn't tell whether she wanted to kiss him or punch him — or, frankly, which one of the two he'd have preferred. 

"Spike," she murmured, her hoarse voice making him whimper and thrust against her softly. "If you don't get naked and on that bed in less than thirty seconds, I'm gonna get violent." 

He whimpered again and then of course he kissed her. How could she expect him not to, after that? She kissed him back just as breathlessly, one of her hands twisting again in his hair and the other sliding down to his neck, his chest — until she was vainly trying to push his coat off his shoulders, making them both chuckle against the other's lips. 

"Gimme a sec, pet," he whispered, kissing her again but pushing her legs down. Her feet had hardly touched the ground when she tugged his coat off of him, her lips still hot and sweet, so sweet on his own. He groaned in her mouth when her hands sneaked under his shirt — and then they were tearing at each other's clothes, still stealing kisses between one tug and another, both of them laughing breathlessly by the time they were hopping on one leg at a time to get their shoes and jeans off. Then they were finally naked, standing in front of each other and God, her chest was blushing as much as her cheeks and he didn't know what to look at. Her reddened breasts, her soft brown bush, her gorgeous wild eyes that were raking his own form and flaring once she looked at his cock — he suddenly felt like he couldn't decide whether to throw her on the bed or look away in some sort of sick, ridiculous shyness. 

"Spike…" She was the one to break the silence as she stepped in his space, her hands sliding from his stomach to his waist and his chest. He inhaled shakily, her nails going to scratch his nipples while her other hand cupped his cock and he couldn't stop a whimper. He bit his lip, his hands going to her waist of their own volition. "Spike," she repeated, her eyes moving from his chest to his face as her hand started slowly pumping him. Her look was intense and he bit his lip harder, quashing down the stupid hope for a love declaration. "Spike," she whispered once more, pressing herself to him in the most delicious way, her lips grazing his, "please make love to me." 

As far as love declarations went, this was damn right good enough for him, at the moment. 

He clutched her to him, relishing the feel of her flesh against his, and kissed her, languidly and passionately and God, it was so bloody good. He kept kissing her and kissing her, his skin tingling wherever she touched him, her fingers tracing his chest, his hair, his shoulder, while her other hand never stopped the gentle pumping. She sighed and moaned in his mouth and he wasn’t sure he could stay standing far longer.

“Bed,” she breathed between kisses, “now, please.”

“Yeah,” he groaned, walking backwards until his legs hit it. He let himself fall on it, her on top of him, and they both laughed breathlessly when he almost made them fall, he was so close to the edge.

“Maybe I should lead, now?” 

Her murmur was sweet and soft, her lips still against his, and he felt like he couldn’t have ever felt happier than right then. He nodded and she kissed him again before rolling off of him and sliding back to the centre of the bed, open and flushed and too damn hot for his sanity.

“You’re gorgeous,” he couldn’t help but whisper. He had to stifle his delighted surprise at her shy smile, then: how many times had he sung her praises, back in Sunnydale, only to see her cheeks flush but expression close, angry and upset? “So bloody hot, you drive me insane,” he said, because yeah, now he could. And her cheeks were red, and so was her chest, but God if that wasn’t a pleased smile on her lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself… for a cold-blooded guy.” He snorted, finally moving towards her, crawling until he was between her legs, her sweet quim filling his nose with the most delicious scent he knew.

“Pretty lame one for your standards, pet.” He could hear his voice go lower by the second, huskier, as his eyes fixed on her gorgeous pussy and the way her legs trembled slightly. He gently took her ankles, thumbs going to lightly caress the thin skin there.

“Not my fault if you — keep distracting me — oh,” she ended, her voice trembling, when he finally leaned down to kiss her right on her centre.

God, you taste divine, my love.

His hands slid up her calves, caressed her thighs, until they finally reached his mouth, while he kept tracing the entrance of her quim with his tongue. One of his thumbs went to stroke her luscious wet lips while he grasped her arse with the other and raised her up a bit — just enough to feast on her with ease. As soon as he started sucking on her hot quim, his thumb going up to press on her clit, she gave a loud moan and gripped his hair hard, both hands entwined in his short curls. He thrust against the bed, his cock hard and weeping and very unsatisfied.

Spike! Ah, please, I —”

He growled in her wet flesh, his head almost thrashing a bit, and his thumb startled a circling motion.

“God, Spike,” she whined, “I want, ah, I need you inside, please —” 

But her hands were pressing his face to her, so he doubled his efforts, his fingers taking the place of his tongue inside her while he went to lick and lap at her hot, hot clit. He thrust again against the mattress, twitching and oh-so-hard at the taste.

Fucking ambrosia you are, kitten.

He growled again when her strong thighs came up to band around his head, forcing him closer still and making him feel close to laughing, he felt so drunk on her. He looked up at her pleasure-filled face, his eyes fixed on her own closed ones. Then he was thrusting his fingers inside her and his tongue was circling her clit, and then he sucked it in his mouth, his tongue flicking it hard — and she exploded under him with a cry that sounded like pure triumph in his ears, her thighs almost crushing his head and her hands once again tearing out some of his hair. He kept on lightly petting and licking her, until her shudders and moans grew weaker, until her legs unclasped and let him go again — and then he was chuckling.

“God, pet,” he said, his gaze never moving from her face, his heart almost thudding when her eyes opened and stared down at him with a dazed expression. “Fucking love it when you come like that in my mouth,” he muttered. Then he licked her, from her soft skin to her clit, his gaze never wavering, feeling like a god when she groaned and her eyelids fluttered. “Christ, you taste good.”

“Spike,” she ordered and up he went, because of course he couldn’t say no to her for long. Of course, that didn’t stop him from kissing her mons, her lower belly, wiggling his tongue in her navel until she giggled breathlessly, and then kissing and licking her breasts, sucking her nipples in his mouth to flick at them with his tongue — until she exhaled just as breathlessly but without much of a giggle. “Spike, please,” she mewled while he tugged at a nipple with one hand and suckled the other, “please, come up here.”

He let her nipple go with a plop and finally crawled up to her face — Christ, how shining her eyes were. He felt a rush of something in his chest — love, and hope, and for some reason the need to write bloody poetry about her and her perfect body in his hands, of all things — and then she grasped his face and brought him down for a kiss.

He tried to keep it languid and unhurried, he did. But by then his cock was really beyond tired of waiting, and now her legs were spreading around him and he kept rocking against her wet, wet core, and Christ, he needed her.

“Buffy,” he almost whimpered, “please, love, please…”

“Yes,” she moaned with what sounded like his exact amount of want and need. “Yeah, please, Spike,” but her plead was unnecessary: her hand was already sliding between them, grasping him and pumping him, and he whimpered, burying his face in her neck. “I want you, Spike,” she whispered in his ear then, tracing the edge of it with her tongue for a second before suckling his lobe and biting it, not too gently. “Now,” she groaned, her pumps going faster, until he whimpered again and she kissed him. She raised her hips just so and brought him to her entrance, and then she gasped and looked at him with wide eyes as he finally, finally entered her.

“Fuck! Buffy!”


He’d really wanted to keep it gentle, he had; he’d wanted to make sweet, tender love to her. But now here she was, around him, hot and tight and soft — and he couldn’t help but thrust in her hard, his hands clutching her close, his mouth crushing against hers. He set a hard, deep pace, and she met him thrust for thrust, her hips rocking hard into his, her legs clasping him closer every time he left her, pressing him back down into her. They quickly started a litany of groans and grunts, lips still pressed together, and when she gasped and moved her mouth to breathe, he grunted in her neck and couldn’t help a harsh bite on her soft, soft skin.

He didn’t have time to freak about her reaction because she cried out loudly and convulsed around him, making him see stars. He drew his head back then, continuing his thrusts into her, her quim quivering and squeezing him almost to orgasm — but the view was too heavenly for him to give in to the pleasure, so he continued his steady thrusts until she came back down, moaning and clutching him in a way that was sure to leave bruises. He couldn’t help a grunt of pleasure at her exhilarated expression when she opened her eyes and he forced himself to slow his thrusts, staring at her in wonder.

She came with a bite. A bite. Oh, pet, the things I’m going to show you…

She whispered his name and he shuddered, burying himself in her and shuddering again when she squeezed him hard, with another little moan.

“You trying… to win — a contest?”

Oh fuck, her voice was so hoarse and husky and he couldn’t take it. He stopped his movements, still deep inside her, and clutched her to himself, burying his face in her sweat-slicked neck.

“God, Buffy…”

I love you. I love you so much.

She chuckled, her mouth thrillingly close to his ear, and he held her closer, his arms sliding between her sweaty back and the mattress.

“I think you could win any contest, with this stamina.” Her voice was amused and sweet and soft, and he felt like he couldn’t possibly be this lucky.

That why you’re neglecting me, you asshole?, he could almost hear his prick whine, but he couldn’t let this end. To have her so willing and sweet and soft, to have her be so his — it was too wonderful for words, and he couldn’t fancy ending it just yet.

“But I want… I need…” She let out a frustrated breath and he leaned back, just enough to look into her shining eyes. “I want to feel you — come,” she ended in a halting whisper, and he couldn’t help a grunt and a little shallow thrust in her. She gave the softest gasp and he licked his lips.

“You are the hottest bloody thing in the bloody universe, love.”

She smiled a radiant, still-shy smile and thrust up into him, making him groan.

“Prove it,” she whispered and he let out a breathless laugh. He started moving again, slow, hard strokes that made her whole body rock with his, her own hips soon matching his rhythm.

“Tell me, pet,” he murmured, his lips touching hers for the briefest kiss, while he shifted to let his left hand fondle her breast. “Tell me how you want it.” His palm rubbed her nipple and then he pinched it, and she exhaled in the most lovely way, her face getting even more flushed.

“Any way, ah, any way you want me,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but kiss her deeply, while his thrusts got that much harder.

“Yeah?” He whispered and she nodded quickly, leaning back in for another kiss, hungry for him. He was drunk on her. “And if I want it deep and hard?”

“God, yes,” she gasped, making him pant out a laugh. He leaned in, his fingers squeezing her nipple and his lips grazing her ear.

“Then turn on your belly, love.” She actually moaned at that, driving him insane with lust, and after another hard thrust he left her sweet body, just to see her turn over and raise her gorgeous ass to him, her face staying pressed to the pillow. Then she made this little mewling sound, her back arching and her legs spreading, and he had to clutch the base of his cock to avoid spilling all over that perfect ass.

“Christ, pet,” he muttered in what was definitely a crazed tone, not that he gave a shit. He let his free hand stroke her ass firmly until he had enough control to use both hands. Then he leaned down, kneading the flesh of her ass as his mouth rained kisses and nibbles on her shoulder, his cock going between those delicious ass cheeks and thrusting against her wet, wet folds. “Move your hair, pet,” he hummed in her ear, thrilling at her shudder. “Wanna see your sweet face…”

God knew he wanted to see it, see the pleasure in her face and the way her lips parted for all those sounds she made — and when she did move her hair, her hand actually trembling a bit, he thrust hard once against her folds, still outside, and then moved back. She whimpered in protest but he kept a firm hold of her ass when she tried to push back, until she sent him a glare.


“Yes, pet?” 

All right, so that hadn’t come out nonchalant as much as bloody rasping in need, but all things considered, he couldn’t bloody complain.

“If you don’t move right now, so help me —”

“Eager little thing,” he murmured, leaning back to look at the wonderful spectacle of his hands kneading her ass, his still-wet cock just a couple of centimeters from her flesh. “God, you should see yourself from here, pet,” he whispered, making her whimper again. He grinned and moved her flesh so that he could see her cunt better. “Should see your glorious, wet quim, all dripping for me…” She gave a moan and he couldn’t help but drag his hard cock through all that wetness, shuddering to keep himself from thrusting in just at that moment. 


This time her voice really was getting frustrated, so he waited just a second — just the time to chuckle — and then drove himself in and started driving into her, hard and deep as he'd promised. She grunted, and he groaned, and their sounds were music to his ears, the ones from their lips as well as the ones from their flesh slapping.

“God… Spike… so good,” she moaned, making him see stars and drive even harder into her.

“Yes, pet — tell me — tell me how it feels —”

“Uhn, so good, you feel so good,” she panted, her voice a strangled whisper, her ass thrusting back into him with each movement, her neck craned so she could look at him. He couldn’t resist anymore so he leaned down again, one hand sliding up to her breast and one to her quim. “OhGodyesSpike!”

He gasped out a laugh at her reaction, his hand rubbing them where they were joined before going to rub her clit in tight little circles.

“Can’t take much more, pet, you’re so tight,” he whimpered against the skin of her shoulder, biting it gently.

“Close — so close, Spike…”

He moaned on her skin, thrusting harder, his rhythm faltering — God, he was so close and her moans were so heavenly — and then he bit her shoulder again, just as hard as before, and she let out a keen moan and squeezed him hard, coming apart around him. Another two, three thrusts and he was coming too, clutching her to him while she squeezed him right into another sodding dimension, making him see stars and darkness at once beneath his tightly closed lids.

He felt like he was coming for-fucking-ever before he got back to himself, harshly panting against her neck, her own pants resonating in his ears. She’d pressed her face back into the pillow, so he didn’t get to see her face when she gave one long, long sigh. He gave one of his own as well, nuzzling her skin and closing his eyes again, inhaling the scent of her sweat and their sex combined.

“God… that was fucking brilliant.”

“It was a bloody revelation,” came her soft, smiling voice and he opened his eyes to look at her smiling at him. He gave a chuckle and squeezed her a bit. Fuck, but the vamp he’d been back then hadn’t known shit about revelations — or even about just how good sex with Buffy could be, when she really did open up to you.

He sighed again and finally moved away from her, both of them giving a bit of a groan when their flesh separated. He rolled to his side, staying close and looking at her but trying his best not to crowd her. It turned out to be pointless, since she hardly stretched and moved to roll before she slid to her side right next to him, nuzzling her face in his chest. In the silence, he could hear her heart rate gently slow, coming down from the incredible high it had reached, and she sighed softly and slid an arm between his own and his flank.

He swallowed, hit yet again by how different it was, being with a happy Buffy. Being with her when she wanted him, really wanted him… he held her tight while giving a breathy sigh, and then he couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.

“God, Buffy, I love you so much.”

She seemed to go rigid under his arm after his whispered words, but before he could backtrack she raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes weren’t panicking, or annoyed, or repelled — she just looked like she wanted to search his eyes for the truth. As if it wasn’t bloody obvious to the whole fucking world how much he loved her.

“Spike, I —”

“Never mind, Slayer,” he hurried to say, his arm moving back from her waist, his whole body automatically stiffening in preparation for whatever kind of rejection she’d go for — but then her hand grabbed his arm and stopped it from leaving her flesh, her brows frowning.

“Spike, stop that.” He blinked, trying his very best not to flinch from her. “I mean… can you just listen to me for a second? Please?”

The slayer was begging him? She must have really squeezed him into an alternate dimension…

He nodded, not trusting his voice yet, and she sighed. Her hand became gentler on his arm, until she slid it down and grasped his own, raising both of them on the mattress between them.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” her voice was a whisper and she was looking at his chest. He was fairly certain that something was literally breaking inside him but he kept his gob shut, too terrified to act. “I’m sorry that I… I can’t tell you that. Yet. I’m not there yet, and… it wouldn’t be right.” Her words were hushed and she only looked up at him after having said them, her eyes pleading. “But I want to get there. I’m — you’re — what I mean is —” she squeezed his hand harder, closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Spike had stopped breathing a while ago. “I care about you, Spike. So much. As a friend and — and — so much more. And I’m sorry I don’t — I’m not there yet, but if you can wait — I really wanna get there. Really. So, would you, I mean yeah, would you… wait for me?”

Her voice had lowered more and more until her words had gotten to be a hushed whisper, but Spike didn’t miss one. She was asking him… He couldn’t help but stare at her in awe.

“I — I know I told you — then, on the Hellmouth — but Spike, you were dying and I couldn’t lose you, so I — it just came out — but,” her voice was breathy by then and he could see tears gathering in her eyes, but still he was too stunned to move. “But now I wanna do better by you. No hurry, no fear — I just really want to let myself fall — fall… completely… for you.” Her voice was trembling and her eyes kept skittering all over around him, staying on his own for only a second at a time. “If you want to wait for me,” she whispered, and now he could actually hear fear in her unsure voice. Fear?

Spike finally breathed again, inhaling hard once before moving their joined hands — she was squeezing his fingers so hard he expected bruises — until he could kiss her knuckles, one by one. Finally, she smiled, even though her eyes stayed too shiny from the tears.

“Pet… Buffy, my love. Of course I want to…” He shook his head, still astonished, but he smiled at her and could feel his heart somehow melt back to health in his chest at the way her own shy smile widened in response. “I’ll wait, Buffy, of course I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you as long as it takes — got all the time in the world, don’t I?” She nodded, still smiling, eyes still watery, and he sighed, leaning down until their foreheads touched. “As if I would ever not wait for you…”

Buffy gave a trembling little laugh and he smiled some more, shifting his body closer to hers. When she did the same, his heart seemed to melt even more.

“And you know, you can say it, Spike,” she whispered, nuzzling his chest again. She squeezed his hand before letting it go so that she could hold him close to her, tangling their legs too. “If you feel like it… I mean, I kinda — like it.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his arm tightening around her again, his nose buried in the hair at the top of her head.

“Kinda like it, kitten?” She nodded in his chest and he could feel her smile against his skin. He was sure that had he been human, his heart would have lurched and thudded and done all sorts of jumping around-kinda things. “I’ll keep that in mind, then,” he murmured, then she raised her head again and beamed at him. He’d known already how lost he was for her, but it struck him again. And yeah, maybe this could end terribly wrong — she could never get to feel the same for him, not as much as he did, or he could slip back to old patterns — but he could already see how much she cared about him, her want for him in her eyes. And it was such a lovely, warming drug, that he’d never give it up without a damn good fight. 

He leaned down and gave her a sweet, soft kiss. She was still smiling against his lips when he started kissing her more deeply; still smiling when he rolled her on him, kissing her and kissing her and letting his hands roam on her delectable flesh; still smiling when they started rocking against each other, until he was hard and ready again and she was sliding him inside her with a gasp. Somehow, the smile never left her eyes, even when her mouth was too busy moaning and groaning her pleasure over him. And as he met her thrust for thrust, as she moved above and around him, he knew that this was a sort of paradise he’d never experienced before.

It took them a long, long time before exhaustion forced them to stop their lovemaking and fall asleep in each other’s arms, and by then Spike felt he’d never smiled so genuinely and for so long in his life and unlife.