A throaty, sensuous growl rolled from Spike’s lips as he dropped a giggling Buffy onto her bed. His eyes sparkled as he took her in: she was an angel – with a sly, devilish grin on her face. Buffy pulled her shirt off over her head and flung it on the floor, then she pushed up on the bed until her head hit the pillows.

Spike’s eyes roamed over her golden skin, caressing her body with his gaze. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight that shone in through the window. It glimmered and moved like finely-spun gold. He remembered how it felt on his skin: soft and silky. It had glided over his body like a sinuous, flowing river of sensuality. His cock jumped at the memory of it, and goose-flesh erupted on his skin, as if he were feeling it all over again right that moment.

Buffy’s green eyes looked up at him, questioning but patient. She didn’t flinch away from him when their eyes met, but held his gaze with her penetrating green eyes. He felt like he could dive into their emerald depths and drown in them forever. There was something there now that hadn’t been there before – a soft confidence. Not Slayer confidence, she’d had that since the first time he’d laid eyes on her, but a woman’s confidence. Anyone else looking at her might not’ve even noticed, but Spike did. Perhaps the small change was from the realization that what he’d told her was true: he could touch her demon like no one else could. Or, perhaps, it was because she’d finally completely accepted the truth of her own creation. Whatever the reason, it suited her.

Her lips were full and rosy, swollen from their lustful kisses. They were still curved into a small smile now as she waited for him to come to her. He remembered the taste of her and licked his own lips at the memory.

Buffy was like no one he’d ever tasted before. Just like her own nature, she was a conundrum that he was still trying to suss out. She was a smorgasbord of flavors and textures: sweet and spicy, soft and crunchy, salty and overly-sweet. She was a light and airy mousse and a heavy brick of sharp cheddar cheese. She was as hot and scalding as fire-whiskey and as cool and refreshing as fresh lemonade on a hot summer’s day. He knew it would take years for him to taste all the flavors of Buffy, and he longed to sample every single one.

Buffy’s body was golden brown from the California sun and, just like the rest of her, contained contrasts. Her skin was soft and smooth, her curves supple. Her breasts begged to be touched, to be kissed – round and full with dusty pink areolas and nipples that hardened into pebbles with a touch. Her stomach was flat and hard. Her slim waist widened into inviting, luscious hips. Her protruding hipbones framed a soft mound of curls and a quim so heavenly that the mere thought of it made him believe there was a God. Her legs were strong and toned – not overly long, but lithe and graceful, like a dancer’s or a gymnast’s. He knew they could wrap around him like a vise and hold him prisoner – he longed for them to do just that.

“You are so beautiful, Buffy,” he murmured to her as he leaned over the short footboard on the bed and caressed her legs with his hands. “God, what you do to me…” he murmured as he lifted one leg up and began kissing and licking the length of it, from her ankle, past her knee, and to her inner thigh.

Buffy moaned at his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. His lips kissed a line of fire up her leg and she shivered as her whole body tingled in anticipation of him being inside her again. Her hips rose up off the bed as she felt the mattress between her legs dip down with his weight. “God, Spike … feels so good,” she moaned, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.

“Touch yourself, Buffy,” Spike requested again, as he’d done earlier.

Buffy opened her eyes and met his. The confidence that had been there seemed to have waned, and she again looked slightly unsure and embarrassed. Buffy suddenly felt like a virgin again – shy and uncertain.

Spike leaned forward over her body until his mouth was near her ear. “Show me what you do when you’re alone, Buffy,” he whispered to her. “You’re so bloody sexy … teach me … show me.”

Buffy took a deep breath and slowly uncurled her fists from the sheets. Spike pulled away, sat back on his heels between her outstretched legs, and watched her. Buffy closed her eyes and began using just the tips of her fingers to swirl soft circles on the flat of her stomach. Then she traced the circles up higher, around the sides of her breasts, then in an arc, circling her nipples gently.

Spike watched her, enthralled. He watched her fingers moving over her heated skin; watched her face relax and forget that he was even there. She raked her nails over her nipples and they hardened instantly. Spike bit his bottom lip, willing himself to not bend forward and suck those tits into his mouth and break the spell.

Buffy’s hands moved lower, back over her stomach, still making slow, gentle swirling patterns on her skin with her fingertips. Buffy bent her knees and opened herself up to him. Despite not needing breath, Spike’s chest heaved with excitement along with Buffy’s as her fingers delved into her mound.

Buffy’s hips bucked up and a low moan escaped her lips as she teased her clit – circling it, then ghosting a finger over top of the hard nub. She spread her outer lips open with the fingers of one hand as she teased the bundle of nerves, bringing herself to the very edge of orgasm.

Spike could stand it no longer. He slid his index finger into her slick, throbbing hole. Buffy’s eyes flew open and met his as her breathing became more and more erratic. His eyes smoldered in the dim light of the moon, and she thought for a moment she might actually burst into flames from the heat he was exuding from them.

The skull ring tugged momentarily on her tender opening. Buffy gasped at the sensation before it slid inside her. 

“Don’t stop. Relax … just feel, Buffy,” Spike encouraged her when her hand went still, his voice deep with desire.

Buffy swallowed hard and forced herself to relax. Spike slid another finger into her tight pussy and began a slow rhythm as her fingers went back to her clit and took up where she’d left off. The skull ring stretched and tugged at her opening every time Spike pulled his fingers out and pushed back in. It didn’t actually hurt, but was a new sensation that she found excited her even more. Spike began pumping into her faster and Buffy’s fingers on her clit changed from soft and teasing to more demanding as she reached the precipice of bliss yet again. She lifted one leg, bending her knee and opening herself to him even more. Her other leg was pinned down – she didn’t have the focus to even worry about it – maybe Spike was leaning on it or something.

Spike felt her pussy tremble and tighten around his fingers, and he pounded into her harder, the ring catching and tugging at her opening with every stroke. Buffy’s back bowed up off the mattress, her face contorted in pleasure as she fell over the edge. Just at that moment, Spike’s other hand touched one of her breasts. He squeezed tight, then rolled her hard nipple between his fingers, and Buffy screamed with pleasure as her body convulsed in ecstasy.

Spike thought he might cum just watching her and hearing her scream. He continued his assault on her pussy and tit as she continued to shudder beneath him. He slammed into her one last time and he was sure his fingers would be crushed with the power of her orgasm. Her cum gushed onto his digits, covering him with her bliss.

Her hand had gone still on her clit, no longer controlled with any conscious thought, because all conscious thought had left the building.  Spike dipped his head between her legs and captured the hard nubbin between his lips, sucking down hard. Buffy’s scream, which had begun to fade a second before, intensified as she bucked against his mouth and hand. Spike swirled his tongue over the bundle of nerves and Buffy jerked wildly under him. If not for vampire strength, and the fact that she had his fingers in a vise, she might’ve bucked him right off the bed.

As Buffy’s orgasm began to fade and her grip on Spike’s fingers loosened, Spike pulled out of her slowly – enjoying her sweet rapture. The sweet scent of her climax hit him full-force as Spike's fingers drew out of her, and he was overcome with a frantic, undeniable need. He shifted between her legs, pressed both legs up and out, and dropped his mouth back down to her cum-soaked pussy. Buffy’s hips twitched up against him as his tongue delved into her sweet heat. Her hands went to her breasts and began pulling and twisting as Spike had been doing a moment before.

Buffy called out, encouraging him with a litany of, “Spike! Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes!” as he ravaged her with his devilishly talented tongue. Spike licked up her slit, touching the tip of his tongue to her clit, then back down to her hole. He thrust into her, deep and hard, then back out over her sensitive flesh to suck down on her clit again. Buffy's body writhed beneath him, and her hissed litany of 'yes, Spike, yes...' drove him on, taking her higher, pressing her closer and closer to the ledge.

Buffy shrieked in pleasure as Spike drove her over the edge of bliss yet again and began demanding Spike take her deeper into the depths of that bottomless pool of dark ecstasy.  Hot, black, liquid flames licked her body and soul with endless waves of pleasure. Sparks of utter joy erupted in her core and cascaded out, covering her with a glittering blanket of pure freedom. She was flying and falling, dipping and soaring, drowning in the thrill of letting go – truly letting go – as she’d never done with anyone else.

And then the sensations bombarding her body changed. She felt Spike’s weight atop her, his cock pressing into her, and she plummeted deeper and deeper into the dark abyss. She wrapped around him with arms and legs. Her heels dug into the back of his thighs as she urged him on: deeper, harder, faster. Her hands found the hard muscles of his arms and back, which strained and bulged with effort as she demanded that he fuck her, and he willingly obliged.

Spike pounded into her as her words and screams, moans and hisses flowed over him, urging him to give her everything. Her pussy was tight and hot around his cool hardness, almost painfully so – but it was the most blissful pain he’d ever felt. Her body was supple and demanding under him. Her half-lidded eyes, heaving chest, and thundering pulse made him want melt into her, fuse with her. He wanted to literally give her his entire body, mind, heart, and, strange it may seem, soul … give her everything.

Spike fought against his body – against the man and the demon – as Buffy writhed and moaned and screamed and demanded that he not stop. The demon yearned to sink his fangs into her neck. The heavenly aroma of blood from where he’d bit her earlier wafted up into his nostrils as he drove into her, fueling the demon's lust. The man ached just as savagely as the demon, longed for the heavenly release of cum boiling up from his balls and surging into her.

Spike fought both of these desires as he slammed his hips down against hers violently, crashing his pubic bone against her clit, and thrusting his cock deep into her core time and time again. He was losing both battles – he could feel control slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

When Buffy screamed at him to, “Cum with me, baby! Spike … cum with me!” he was undone. The few grains of control he had left blew away in the wind and he didn’t even try to gather them back up. His hips jerked against her in short, fast strokes as he let go and did what he’d been advising her to do: don’t think, just feel.

His mind flooded with endorphins as he relinquished control to his body. The short strokes gave way to a renewed desire to be buried in her and he drove hard, slamming against her viciously. The euphoric release burst from his loins and his throat at the same time. A leonine roar accompanied the surge of his cum into Buffy’s hot channel. The house was filled with the sounds of screams, growls, roars, and gasps as the two preternatural beings completely let go.

Suddenly, Spike was there with her in the dark depths of the flames. The bliss painted their bodies with fierce, unrelenting heat – but it didn’t burn. It danced across their skin like silken fire as they twirled together in the undulating mass of euphoria. Their hearts and souls touched and joined, then spun away, only to be hurtled back together a moment later as another wave of orgasmic bliss engulfed them.

**~**

Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, her chest heaved with exertion, and all she could manage were short gasps of the warm, thick air. Spike lay atop her, no longer supporting his weight on his arms at all. She longed to take deeper gulps of air, but at the same time didn’t want him to move. She clasped her hands around his back, hooked her feet together around his ass, and held him to her tightly.

She moaned as he began kissing and licking her neck. It felt heavenly.  She closed her eyes again, ready to get lost in the sensation, when he stopped and pulled back.

Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him – he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “W…wh…” Buffy cleared her throat and tried again. She couldn’t get anything to come out. She swallowed, coughed a little, and tried again.

“What?” came out as a raspy whisper.

He focused his eyes on hers. “The blood,” he said with disbelief. “Your blood. You … that bag … the feeding tube. You gave me your blood.”

Buffy gave him a small smile and nodded, afraid to try and talk again.

“Are you bloody daft?”

She wasn’t expecting that reaction at all and she bristled, her hackles rising. “No,” she rasped back at him, trying to sound indignant. “You needed it,” she managed in a hoarse whisper.

“Buffy! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Is still?”

“Yeah. Giles warned me,” Buffy admitted, still whispering.

“No bloody wonder I couldn’t stop … before. I … you smell and taste like food! I could’ve killed you!” Spike exclaimed, looking down at her with near-panic in his eyes.

“And yet, you didn’t,” she replied more strongly as her voice came back a bit more.

Spike stared at her with wide eyes, utterly speechless for perhaps the first time in a century.

“I told you before: I trust you,” Buffy assured him, lifting her lips up and touching them to his gently.

“How long? How much did ya give me?” he asked her, still looking shocked.

Buffy shrugged her head slightly. “I gave you what you needed to get well,” she hedged.

“Slayer,” Spike drawled impatiently. “How much?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Four pints … over ten days. Dawn wanted to give some too – but I wouldn’t let her.”

“Bloody hell…” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. How had he stopped himself before? He shouldn’t have been able to stop until the food was … drained.

“Spike,” Buffy croaked, making him focus back onto her eyes. “I trust you. You gave everything to save Dawn … to save me. It was the least I could do … the very least. I love you.”

Spike blinked back his emotions and dropped his mouth to hers. His lips nibbled hers gently, sucking and caressing them in a slow, sensuous kiss. He didn’t think, in an entire century on this earth, that anyone had ever done anything remotely that idiotic and utterly selfless for him before.

 “I love you, Buffy – even if you are a daft bint.”

Buffy smiled up at him. “Daft but sexy, right?”

Spike’s azure eyes sparkled with emotions ranging from love to awe to amazement to lust. He raked his tongue across his teeth before he breathed, “Bloody sexy.”

“And … still talking,” she croaked hoarsely. “And walking,” she claimed, demonstrating by tightening her legs painfully around his hips.

“Well, can’t ‘ave that, can we?” he purred, a sly grin curling the corners of his mouth.

Spike rolled onto his side off her, their bodies separating with wet, sucking sound caused by the sheen of perspiration that covered Buffy’s over-heated skin. Buffy watched as Spike trailed his fingers down between her breasts, across her belly, around her navel, and down to her mound. He dipped two fingers between her folds and pulled them back, glistening with their combined juices. He raised them to his nose and inhaled deeply, then sucked them into his mouth with a low moan.

Buffy’s eyes went wide as she watched him suck his fingers clean.

Spike opened his eyes as he pulled his fingers back out of his mouth, taking in her expression. “Ambrosia,” he claimed. “Nectar of the gods.”

He dipped his fingers back between her dripping folds and lifted them to her lips. Buffy hesitated a moment before taking a tentative lick with the tip of her tongue.

Ambrosia was kind of like a creamy fruit salad with coconut and marshmallows … wasn’t it? And any nectar of the gods should taste like chocolate as far as she was concerned. This tasted like neither. She took another small taste, closed her eyes to concentrate, and let it swirl around on her tongue. Salty, musky, a little coppery, and a hint of … citrus? It was strange. The coppery blood taste she could understand, but citrus?

She didn’t know what she had expected it to taste like. It seemed like it had been years since she tasted her own essence on Spike’s lips. It had turned her on and made her self-conscious at the same time, which wasn’t a good recipe for remembering what it was like.  In the days they’d spent together before executing her brilliant ‘run away’ plan, Spike had never cum in her mouth. He’d always warn her and she would pull away. She’d been too embarrassed, after making him go through that three-finger stoppage, to suggest that she might be ok with it.

“You been drinking lots of OJ, yeah … ‘cos of the blood you been givin’ up for me?” Spike asked her, as if reading her mind.

Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him. “Yeah…” she admitted.

Spike shrugged. “You taste like what you eat, pet… or, at least some of it.”

“Soooo, if I feed you a whole bunch of chocolate…” she began, a cunning grin spreading over her lips.

Spike smirked. “Just call me Willy Wonka,” he answered with a smirk.

“That’s my kinda factory,” she teased, biting her bottom lip wickedly.

Buffy put her hand on Spike’s and pulled his fingers into her mouth as he’d done. She swirled her tongue around them, between them, sucking down on them hard. Spike’s cock jumped at the sight of her lips devouring his digits, the feel of her hot tongue swirling around and around them. Buffy noticed the movement against her leg and her heartrate jumped. Her eyes met his and she smiled slyly around his fingers. She pulled his clean digits from her lips with a ‘pop’, her eyes locked on his.

“Your turn,” Buffy announced, as she pressed against his shoulder and knocked him onto his back. Buffy sat up and clambered down the mattress. She spread his legs and climbed between them, sitting back on her heels facing him, mimicking what he’d done earlier.

“Show me … show me what you do when you’re alone,” she murmured, raking her eyes over his body.

Spike pursed his lips into a smirk. “Ya got a stake?” he asked her, looking around at the dresser.

Buffy gasped. “What the hell do you want a stake for? Please don’t tell me you …” she shuddered, unable to finish the thought.

Spike laughed and raked his tongue over his teeth. “No … but if you ever get in the mood t’ shove somethin’ up my arse … I wouldn’t object,” he offered. “Just not a stake,” he added quickly. “And a little lube would be appreciated.”

“You’re … serious,” Buffy realized with wide eyes.

Spike shrugged. “Welcome to the dark side, pet.”

“B-but … ok, not a stake, but like what?” Buffy asked innocently.

Spike smirked. “A finger … a vibrator … a vibrating finger,” he suggested, wagging his brows. “Got a vibrator?”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. “No … I tried those little … supposedly discreet ones. I kinda broke two and … I got scared I’d get electrocuted or something equally embarrassing.”

“Right,” Spike agreed, flexing the fingers that she’d nearly crushed. “Well, reckon we can find something more heavy-duty for ya later.

“Now … where’s Mr. Pointy?” he asked, getting back to the original request.

Buffy looked at him, still a bit suspicious, but slid off the bed and grabbed a stake from a drawer in her dresser. “Do you need any holy water to go with it? A cross maybe?”

“Just the stake,” he replied. “Maybe later on we can play with the other torture devices.”

“Ooo-kay,” she agreed hesitantly, coming back to the end of the bed. “Now what?”

“Get back where you were and hold the stake up like you’re about t’ dust me,” he instructed.

Buffy did so, still looking at him like he’d lost his ever-loving mind. Spike took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes fluttered closed and he began to speak with a deep timbre to his voice.

“You come to my crypt … royally brassed off over something or another that I’ve done. Come t’ stake me, you have,” he began as his hands traveled down his hard torso seductively. “Oh, Slayer … you’re so bloody hot when you’re mad,” he moaned.

“You start tellin’ me how you’re gonna do it this time. Gonna do me good,” Spike continued. His hips writhed up off the mattress as his hand wrapped around his cock.

“I dare you to … do it Slayer – get it over with!” he exclaimed, finally looking up at Buffy as she sat over him with the stake raised. “You come close, ready to strike and … I kiss you.” Spike moaned again as he stroked his cock slowly, his grip firm.

“Oh, Slayer … you taste so bloody good,” he moaned, increasing the pace as his hand slid up and down his shaft. “You look at me, shocked, for a long moment … you raise the stake to strike again.” Spike groaned as he jerked himself harder and harder, looking up at Buffy, who was still holding the stake up over her right shoulder.

This was sounding a bit familiar to Buffy. Had she unwittingly played out one of his fantasies downstairs when she'd held the stake on him? That was ... unsettling and also really ... hot.

“Then you drop the stake and begin ripping m’ clothes off,” Spike continued dreamily. “Then you …”

On cue, Buffy dropped the stake on the floor with a clatter and leaned forward. “Then I drop down onto my knees in front of you and …” She touched her tongue to the pearl of pre-cum on his slit and Spike’s hips jerked up uncontrollably.

“Yeah … that’ll do,” he agreed, releasing the grip he had on his shaft as her lips slid over the mushroom head. “Oh fuck, Slayer … God, that feels so … bloody … good,” he gasped out.

Buffy twirled her tongue round and round the tip of his cock, her lips closed tightly around the helmet. She grasped the shaft with her hand and began to stroke him with the same firm grip he’d been using. His cock tasted just like his fingers did – just like she did. He tasted of their mingled cum – of ambrosia. She moaned around his shaft, vibrating her lips and tongue against his sensitive skin.

“Bloody hell, woman! What you do to me!” Spike exclaimed, tangling his hands in her golden tresses as he looked down his body and watched her.  “You’re so beautiful, Buffy … so passionate … so good,” he murmured to her as she began moving her mouth up and down in opposition to her hand, taking his shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth with each stroke.

Buffy lifted her mouth off him and looked up to meet his eyes. “Tell me what feels good,” she whispered as she trailed her tongue down the underside of his cock, drawing hot, wet circles all along his length.

“That … for … one,” Spike assured her, gasping.

Buffy swirled her tongue around his balls and Spike’s hips jerked up against her. “Suck …them … gaahhh…” Spike began as Buffy sucked one, then the other of his balls into her mouth and swirled her tongue against them, warm and wet.

Her hand went back to his cock and began stroking again as she explored, nibbling, kissing, licking, and sucking on his balls and taint. Her voyage of discovery showed her what made his hips jerk wildly, what made him moan, and what made him curse in pleasure. Her confidence redoubled as he declared her a goddess and a she-devil while she worked her magic on him. And she felt like a goddess – every swirl of her tongue, every nibble of her teeth, every rake of her nails, every suck, every kiss seemed to pull him further and further under her control. It was intoxicating and exciting.

This time there was no hesitancy at all to her movements, no trepidation or worry that he might explode into her mouth. She wanted it – she wanted to give him everything he’d given her. She wanted to taste him, feel his desire surging into her, and swallow it down greedily.

She could feel her own desire building up higher and higher along with his. Could she actually cum by making him cum? Was that even possible? She wanted to find out.

Riley had rarely talked during sex, he never played games, and she was quite sure he wouldn’t allow anything up his ass, other than the cob that the army, or someone in his childhood, had apparently shoved up there.  Buffy found herself turned on by the idea of Spike actually inviting her to do that. A thrill went down her spine as she imagined pleasuring him with a vibrator, and she found that she had jumped past the embarrassment and long-standing, society-imposed taboos, and landed with both feet firmly on the dark side.

Emboldened by Spike’s nearly constant praise and moans of pleasure, and by her own building desire, Buffy used her hands and lips and tongue to tease and please Spike. She nipped sharply at the soft, creamy skin of his thighs one moment and lavished his cock with her tongue the next. Spike jerked and writhed under her, begging for more.

Without warning, Buffy dropped her hot, wet mouth down over his cock hard and fast. She sucked in, hollowing her cheeks, and squeezed her lips together hard.

Spike screamed out in painful pleasure. It sounded like something between the cry of a hyena and a wolf, and it pierced Buffy’s last remaining worry of hurting him, popping the thought like a pin would pop a balloon.

She began pumping her mouth up and down harder and faster as one hand fondled his balls and the other teased the short curls at the base of his rod. Her tongue swirled and lapped at his hardness with each stroke, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. Once in a while, her fingers would tangle in his shorthairs and tug on them painfully. Spike would yowl and jerk harder, slamming his hips up against her desperately.

Buffy felt his balls tense beneath her palm and, although she’d been ready to surprise him by not pulling away this time, a wickedly evil plan bloomed in her mind. She pressed three fingers against his taint, as she’d done that one time before, slowed her movements, and released the suction she had built around his rod.

“Bloody hell! … Let me cum, woman!” Spike demanded of her, trying to remove her fingers from his taint.

Buffy pushed back, wiping the wet smear of saliva and pre-cum from her mouth, and smirked at him. “Make me,” she challenged, grinning at him evilly. “Make me let you cum in my mouth.”

She wrenched her hand free of his and, satisfied that the moment had passed for Spike – at least for now – and jumped up off the bed. She picked up the stake from the floor and skittered away from Spike’s outstretched arms, towards the door.

“The Slayer comes in from a long, lonely night of patrolling,” she began in a storybook voice, opening and closing the bedroom door for effect.  “She doesn’t see the evil vampire lurking in the shadows of her room as she undresses and gets ready for bed,” Buffy continued, laying the stake down and pretending to get undressed.

Spike smirked and rolled off the bed. He backed up into one of the darker corners of her room as she stopped in front of the mirror and brushed her mussed hair a moment.

“She can’t see the evil fiend in the mirror as she brushes her hair, has no idea he’s there,” Buffy continued with an innocent sigh. “And then …” she began, letting her voice trail off as she climbed into bed.

“And then the sexy vampire watches, waiting for her to fall asleep. She’s out like a light when her head hits the pillow,” Spike filled in.

Buffy smiled and feigned sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, adding a loud snore for good measure.

“So exhausted, she is, that she doesn’t realize the sexy vamp’s got her hands and feet tied to the bed ‘fore it’s too late,” Spike continued the story as he looked in the dresser and closet for something to tie her up with.

Not finding any ropes or handcuffs, he settled for four pairs of underwear. He looped the lacy fabric around the uprights on the head and foot of the bed and then around her ankles and wrists, spread-eagling her on the bed.

Buffy pulled on them and found she could escape pretty easily, but flashed her eyes open as if panicked. “Oh! You evil vampire! What have you done? I’m helpless, trapped, and alone! What are your evil, perverted plans?”

Spike chuckled as he studied her, laid out before him like a buffet just waiting to be devoured. “Reckon we’ll start with a little torture, pet,” he replied saucily as he went back to the closet and pulled a pink feather boa off a hook on the door.

Buffy choked back a laugh. He was gonna torture her with a boa? How? By prancing around with it like young, and much better looking, Boy George? She bit her bottom lip … that actually would be something she’d pay money to see.

Spike stood by the bed and let the boa hang down from his hand. Beginning with her neck, he let the end of it trail slowly over her skin. Buffy giggled and squirmed, careful to not actually pull out of her bindings, ‘cos what fun would that be? From her neck he let it swing back and forth across her underarms for a few moments before trailing the feathers down her sides. Buffy sucked in her stomach, trying to pull her skin away from Spike’s torture device, as she squealed in delighted protest. Her squeaky cries only made Spike redouble his efforts, swirling the feathers lightly over her stomach as she pushed down into the mattress as hard as she could.

“Stop! Please stop!” she demanded through her laughter.

Spike pulled the torture device away momentarily. “Ready to suck me off, then?” he asked seductively.

“No! Never!” Buffy asserted, feigning shock and outrage.

“Then I’m not ready to stop,” he told her with a smirk as he trailed the feathers over her breasts.

Buffy writhed as the softness caressed her. Goose-flesh appeared on her body and her nipples hardened in an instant.  She moaned as Spike continued his torture, trailing the feathers around and around her breasts, then over her stomach, down one leg, and back up the other.

“Ready t’ give in to me?” he asked again as he continued the slow circuit over her body.

“No … never…” she moaned, unconvincingly.

“Ahhh … a tough one, you are,” Spike observed wryly. “Right then, reckon we’ll just have to turn up the heat.”

“Don’t try to move or get away or I’ll have to punish you … severely,” Spike warned before he turned abruptly and left the room. Buffy stared after him, wondering where the heck he was going.

When he came back he had a glass of ice water and a cup of hot cocoa. Buffy was actually happy to see that, thinking he’d brought the water for her – and he had … sort of.

Setting the steaming cocoa down, Spike dipped his fingers in the water and then held them over her body. Freezing water dripped onto her heated skin. She jumped and writhed as the cold water hit her and ran in freezing rivulets down her body.

“This is turning up the heat?!” she asked incredulously. “You need remedial English, you evil fiend!”

Spike just smirked as he picked one of the ice cubes out of the glass and began drawing a freezing line of chill-bumps down her throat and across her collarbone. Buffy wriggled and squirmed under his hand as he kept going, circling first one nipple, then the other with the rapidly melting ice.

“Now for the heat…” he murmured before taking a long drink of the hot cocoa and swirling it around in his mouth. He swallowed the warm liquid, and then dropped his lips to her breast and sucked down. His now warm tongue swirled over her erect nipple and he nibbled on it lightly with his teeth.

Buffy moaned and her back arched up off the bed as he alternated between freezing her and heating her up. Everywhere he touched the ice cube down, he came behind it with his warm lips and tongue. Her body would shrink away from the cold, then rise up against his warm mouth. He worked his way down her body from her throat, to her breasts, her navel, one hipbone and then the other, her inner thighs.

“Last chance, pet,” Spike warned as he spread her pussy lips open and held the ice cube up menacingly.

“Oh no … no, no, no … you wouldn’t!” she shrieked at him, her eyes wide, her trepidation unfeigned.

“Wouldn’t I?” he purred silkily.

Spike lowered the ice cube to her mound of curls. Buffy’s heart raced – it was one thing to have ice on her skin, even on her nipples, but there? She could pull free and stop him, and part of her seriously considered it, but hadn’t she started this little tableau? She could, of course, just stop him by giving in to him – which she knew she’d do sooner or later anyway, but being coerced into it seemed somehow more dangerous and added another level of thrill to it.

“You can stop me…” he reminded her as he slid the ice cube down from her curls toward her slit. “Suck me off.”

“No,” Buffy breathed, lifting her head up and watching him. He looked like he was having entirely too much fun. The gleam of absolute evil glee in his eyes was, well … it was intoxicating really.

Buffy screamed and thrashed on the bed when he touched her sensitive bundle of nerves with the ice.

“Had enough?” he wondered idly.

“No!”

Spike grinned, took another drink of the cocoa and dropped his mouth to her pussy. Buffy’s body exploded like molten lava from a volcano when his hot tongue pressed down against her clit, then she rocketed back to Antarctica when the ice cube replaced his tongue. Back and forth he went – freezing and heating her most sensitive spot over and over again as she writhed and shrieked in pain and pleasure.

Then he just stopped.

Buffy’s eyes flashed open in surprise. “No! Don’t stop!” she demanded, suddenly missing the unbelievable highs and lows of the roller coaster he had taken her on.