**~** 

Spike was relaxing on the couch in the main room of the mansion when he heard Buffy coming down the stairs in the garden. The sun was just setting, but there was still enough to stream through the heavy drapes covering the door when she came in.

“Oi, watch it, Slayer!” he yelled as he rolled away from the beam of light and stood up. He was dressed as usual, black on black, t-shirt and jeans; his belt was undone, as was the top button of his pants.

Spike walked to the end of the couch, facing her. He took her in, all showered and clean, her hair shone in the sunlight like a golden waterfall. She had on a crop top, mini skirt, and wore her normal high heels. He could never figure out how she fought so well in those heels, but he definitely loved watching her do it.

Buffy dropped her bag inside the door and pulled the drapes closed before walking straight up to him and, without saying a word, pushed him backwards over the arm of the couch and down flat on his back. She straddled his hips before leaning over and whispering in his ear, “Fuck me."

Spike looked at her suspiciously, but his hands instantly went to her thighs and slid up to her hips, under her skirt, to discover she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Didn’t notice it rainin', Slayer,” he said in the most casual tone he could muster.

“It’s raining . . . somewhere,” she defended.

“Did you have that talk with your Mum?”

“I did, with words and everything.”

“And?”

“And . . . I’m grounded.”

A chuckle escaped Spike’s lips, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, eyes wide. “You’re grounded? Time out Sunnyhell, the Slayer is grounded!” He couldn’t contain his mirth.

“Sure, grounded, you don’t see any wings on me, do you?" She turned in his lap, wriggling her hips against his, to show him her back and its complete lack of wingage. "Totally grounded. Now, are you gonna talk all night or are you gonna fuck me?” she asked as she ground her hips harder against the erection that she could already feel straining against his jeans.

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Your Mum know where you are, my wingless Slayer?” he asked after a moment, in as steady a voice as he could manage.

“She does, I left her a note.”

“And all your little friends, and your Watcher?”

“Yes, Spike, the entire world knows where I am.” She flung her arms out to the sides, to illustrate. She affected her best Hollywood announcer’s voice before continuing, “Slutty the Vampire Layer is at the Vampire Mansion having her slutty way with The Big Bad.”

In her normal voice, she continued, “If everyone thinks I’m a slut, I might as well get the spoils.” She ground her hips into him again, to punctuate the last word.

“What’s in the bag? Slutty toys? Outfits?” Spike asked hopefully as he eyed the bag that she'd dropped near the door.

“Weapons . . . and clothes, just normal clothes.”

“So, planning on staying a while, are you?”

“Not unless you start doing something other than talking,” she retorted.

“Uh-huh. Have you ever been slutty before, Slayer?”

“No, but I thought you could teach me. Professor Spike, Master Vampire!" she announced the last words like she was introducing a luncheon speaker, Dr. Smith, PhD. She shrugged. "You've been all evil-having for the last century; figured you’d be qualified for the position.”

“Oh, I’m qualified for many positions, Slayer, just trying to suss you out. What are you doin' here?” He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, trying to read her face.

Buffy sighed, apparently he wasn't going to stop talking. “I want to be here, I want to be with you. No one else can understand these feelings I have. I don't think anyone other than another warrior can possibly understand. And, anyway, I’m sure that it is raining. Somewhere.”

“And the soul losing curse?” Spike asked.

“Not really worried about it anymore. You're right, you’re not Angel."

She stopped and met his eyes before continuing, "Plus, how easy is it to achieve perfect happiness, anyway? I think the two of us would be lucky to achieve lukewarm un-miserableness at this point.”

What the bloody hell are you doing? Spike thought to himself. It's been months since you've been with a woman and you've got one sitting atop you begging you to shag her and you're questioning her bleedin' motives?

It had, in fact, been since before he and Dru were attacked in Prague that he'd had sex with anyone other than mother palm and her five daughters. Dru had been too sick and weak after the attack in Prague. Wen he'd finally cured her, the Slayer put him in a wheelchair . . . and, of course, let's not forget Angelus claiming Dru back for himself.

Bugger this!

Spike snorted. “Class is in session then, Slayer.” In one deft move he lifted her up and onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry as he stood up from the couch. With one hand on her bare ass, he grabbed her bag with the other, and headed for the stairs.

“Better take this up to a proper class room in case your buddies decide to show up with stakes a blazin' or your Mum gets a hankering to chop my head off with that axe o' hers.”

Buffy squirmed on his shoulder so he slapped her ass. “Be a good little Slayer now, and you’ll get your spoils.” He slid his hand between her thighs and up to her dripping pussy to make his point; she gasped in surprise and stopped squirming.

Maybe the Powers That Be are paying me back for saddling me with this sodding soul, he thought wryly. He couldn’t contain the grin on his face as he carried her up the stairs; his cock so hard he thought it would pop the remaining buttons on his jeans.

Of course, it had been that way all day except those few minutes after he’d wanked off in the shower thinking about her. Smelling her arousal all over his bedroom had nearly driven him crazy, which is why he had gone downstairs to the couch for a while. But even there, his desire had begun to overwhelm him, hence the partially undone pants. He’d already decided he would never wash those sheets again, but now, he had the real thing, right here, slung over his shoulder, his fingers in her sopping cunt. Maybe my time in Sunnyhell won't be a complete disaster, after all.

In the dark bedroom, Spike put her down on her feet and spun her around to face one wall. “Stay!” he commanded. She obeyed.

She could hear the door closing and the lock being thrown. Spike decided that tomorrow he would put locks on all the exterior doors. No way was he going to have her here all the time and only be able to shag her in one room, but he didn’t want anything to disturb them tonight, so this would be fine, for now.

Buffy heard some rustling behind her and a lighter flicked, suddenly the room was bathed in candle light.

Spike turned her in his arms to face him; he had shed his clothes and she couldn’t stop herself from laying her arms on his shoulders as her eyes took in every inch of him. Soft alabaster skin covered the hard muscles of his chest and six pack abs, his cock, standing hard up against his stomach was . . . was – Oh God! It's amazing! How could someone with no pulse have a hard on like that? She felt her pussy ache for it. Her eyes came back up to meet his; she could barely see any blue, his pupils were so dilated with desire. She reached a hand down to stroke his cock but he caught her wrist firmly and pulled it back up to his chest.

“Not so fast, Slayer. My lesson, remember? Now you be a good girl and do as you’re told. Got it?”

Buffy nodded once. Spike let go of her wrist and slowly started to unbutton her top, keeping her eyes locked in his like a vise, until he brushed a hard nipple with his hand causing her to close her eyes as a soft moan escaped her lips. Her back arched, aching for more.

“Ah, ah, ah, Slayer – eyes open.” He stopped his progress until she opened her eyes, then continued to slowly undress her. Cool hands brushed against her hot flesh making her want to put a stop to this torture and just pull his cock into her dripping, aching core.

He began sliding her skirt down her legs, his fingers tracing rivers of icy-fire down her thighs as he knelt before her and pulled the skirt down all the way to her ankles. She quickly kicked it off, followed just as quickly by her shoes. Spike wasn’t sure if he would be able to control himself enough to finish this lesson properly – the smell of her arousal was overwhelming him and it took all his self-control do to keep from throwing her on the bed and fucking her into next week.

As he knelt down, Buffy loosened the hold the gel had on his curls by moving her hands slowly through his hair. Without his gaze locked to her eyes, she could close them and just let herself feel his touch. Cool hands against her hot flesh sent chill bumps over her skin as he started to trace his fingers up from her ankles. He paused to draw small circles on the tender skin at the back of her knees, before continuing up with excruciatingly slow feather-touches along the inside of her thighs.

When his hands reached her apex, he drew in a ragged breath to steel himself before tracing the line where her thighs met her hips. With a frustrated moan, Buffy removed one hand from his hair and moved it to touch herself; she had to have some relief and if he wasn’t going to do it, she would just do it herself.

As she started to put a finger between her outer lips, Spike caught her wrist again and pulled it away. “No, no, Slayer – no touching, that’s mine," Spike said, pursing his lips with a possessive leer. "If you’re not going to be a good girl and follow my rules, then I’ll just have to make you behave.”

Before Buffy knew what had happened, Spike had lifted her onto the bed and straddled her hips, pinning her down, as he clasped both of her hands above her head with one of his. If she had really wanted to escape, it wouldn’t have been any problem for her to pull free, but she really didn’t want to escape. She felt his rock hard cock pressing into her belly and raised her hips to change position and get him closer to her throbbing pussy.

“If you don’t stop moving, the lesson will end before it’s even begun, Slayer.”

Her eyes bored into his. If looks could kill, Spike would have been dust, but she stopped moving and relaxed under his weight. As he reached across the bed for two scarves that he'd laid out, his chest pressed against her hard nipples causing her back to arch towards him of its own volition.

“God Spike, you’re killing me!” She wanted it to sound indignant, angry, but it came out as more of a plea.

He smiled, that sexy, knowing smile he had, as he tied one, then the other of her wrists above her head. He secured them to the headboard with the scarves, before coming back and leaning down next to her ear. “Yeah, luv, gotta die before ya can go to heaven, and heaven is where I’m taking ya t’night, pet,” he informed her, his voice so deep with desire that it made her shiver in anticipation.

Spike wanted to taste every inch of her and started with her neck; he used his tongue and lips and teeth to suck and lick and nip at her salty skin. He could feel her pulse just below the surface and had to fight to keep the demon down, he knew how heavenly her Slayer blood would taste, but that’s not what he wanted tonight.

He slid further down her body with his mouth, his hands; Buffy could feel his cock now pressed into her thigh and she fought to keep from wrapping her legs around him and pulling him into her, lest he end the lesson before his promise of heaven.

A scream caught in her throat as he found a hard nipple with his mouth, circling it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking it hard between his teeth. His hand worked the neglected breast, lightly pinching and tugging the other nipple between thumb and forefinger until the scream in her throat came out as a rush of words.

 “JesusGodOhGodSpikeGodPLEASEPleaseMoreChristSPIKE!”

Her body bucked against him, she was no longer able to control it as she felt a wave of orgasm starting to flow over her. She could no longer speak as she struggled just to breathe. She felt the scarves pull tighter against her wrists, but it just added to the pleasure that washed over her body.

As she came down from the high, she could hardly believe that he could make her cum without even touching her burning center. Her eyes were closed again from the onslaught of the orgasm; she could hear his deep voice speaking, but struggled to focus enough to make out the words.

“God, Slayer, you're beautiful, so bloody beautiful.” She opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her as his hands continued to move slowly over her breasts and the flat of her stomach. “Like heaven on Earth, you are.”

He slid further down her body until he was laying flat on his stomach between her thighs. Lifting one, then the other of her golden legs, over his shoulders, he tilted her hips up to reveal her throbbing quim.

“Wha .. . What are you doing?” she stammered.

“Getting me a taste of heaven, luv.” Before she could consider further, Spike’s tongue made a slow circle around her rock hard clit before lavishing the insatiable knob with feathery licks.

“God, like fucking ambrosia," he muttered as he continued to lavish licks and sucks on her sensitive, aching organ.

Buffy wrapped her thighs around his head as she bucked against his mouth. Another litany of pleas and moans passed her lips as she started for another orgasm only to come to a frustrated stop when Spike pried away from her grasp.

“Ah, ah, ah . . . my lesson, remember Slayer? Now, do I have to tie your ankles as well?”

Shaking her head side to side, she let her legs fall back down so they were draped loosely over his shoulders again. She thought she would certainly die of frustration any minute now. While that one orgasm had taken the edge off a bit, Spike’s expert tongue had brought her arousal back tenfold. God, just let me CUM! she pleaded silently.

“Are you ready to be a good Slayer, now?” Spike asked.

She breathed deep to try to settle herself and nodded to him – afraid to try to speak lest her voice make her sound even more needy than she actually was, which was bordering on the Queen of Needsville right about now.

Spike settled back and began again on her clit. Buffy moaned and tried hard not to buck against his inscrutable mouth or tighten her thighs against his head as he played with her quim – tasting her juices, teasing, testing every fold of skin for sensitivity to his touch, trying to memorize every inch of her.

As he continued to tease her clit with flickering touches of his tongue, he dipped first one, then two fingers into her dripping slit. Buffy gasped as his fingers entered her, her inner muscles working to pull him deeper into her heat. He started a slow fuck with his fingers – pulling out, adding another and pushing in again – ever so slowly. In and out, in and out . . . all the time keeping his mouth teasing her clit, sending sparks of electricity down her quivering legs all the way to her toes and up her torso to her now neglected nipples.

As if he could read her body, he reached the other hand up and starting lazily playing with one hard nipple then the other, causing her already ragged breath to catch in her throat and her hips to buck against his fingers against her will.

“Jesus Spike, please, please, God, PLEASE.”

Pausing his tongue but still slowly finger fucking her, he replied, “Please what, Slayer?”

“Spike, please, you’re killing me.”

“Slayer of Slayers, luv . . . thought you knew that.”

“Spike, please!”

“Tell me what you want, pet.”

“God damn it, fuck me or kill me, Spike! I can’t take any more!”

“Oh, I think you can take much, much more, Slayer.”

Before she could say another word, Spike pulled his fingers out of her throbbing slit and positioned himself up over top of her, hands on either side, the muscles in his arms bulging. His hard chest just inches from her burning body, he held himself perfectly still above her, his aching cock at the entrance of her slick hole.

She responded, tilting her hips up, wrapping her legs around his narrow hips, but not pulling, lest he stop again. So fucking close! Buffy had to close her eyes to concentrate on not just pulling him into her.

“Open your eyes, luv,” Spike murmured above her.

Slowly, Buffy opened her eyes to see him staring down at her, his eyes full of desire. He dipped his head down to kiss her mouth, his cool tongue finding its way through her parted lips to taste her.

She could taste her own juices on his mouth and it made her ache even more for him to be inside her. She kissed him back, her mouth and tongue searching his, devouring her own juices from his lips. She wanted to put her arms around him but didn’t want to do anything that would stop what she knew would be the heaven that he promised her, so she didn’t even pull against the scarves holding her wrists.

Never taking his mouth from hers, Spike pressed his hips into her, the head of his cock finding her aching channel. Just like he’d fucked her with his fingers, he pressed into her slowly, struggling against his own desires in order to make sure she was ready for his girth and to increase her desire even more.

Buffy gasped when he finally entered her, raising her hips up to meet him, but allowing him to control the pace. It had been so long since that one night with Angel and the feeling of actually having a man press into her was overwhelming. She could feel her pent up orgasm start from somewhere deep within as he slid slowly inside her, filling her, making her feel complete. When he was buried to the hilt in her heat, he stopped moving and pulled away from the kiss to look into her eyes. She thought that she would surely drown in his eyes, the blue just barely there but still the most beautiful color she’d ever seen.

Spike reached one hand up and pulled the knot loose on first one, then the other of the scarves holding her wrists as he started pushing his cock back into her heat, faster now than before. He leaned down next to her ear, “Don’t hold back, Slayer, you won’t hurt me. Let go. Just be.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around his hard back and tightened her legs around his slim hips, matching his rhythm and thrusting up as he thrust down. Her inner muscles squeezed him hard within her, pulling him in and not wanting to let him go. The orgasm that had started building when he'd first entered her was swelling; words were tumbling from their lips and they didn’t try to hold them back.

“Jesus Spike, GodohGod, YesSpikeFuckme. Yes! GodharderSpikefuckmeharderJesus!”

“SlayerGodLetGo, FuckSlayer, Give it to me, YES! JesusyesharderSlayerBloodyChrist!”

He could feel her orgasm building around him as he pumped his cock into her slick, hot channel, and that only made him pound her harder, faster, until he felt her whole body spasm and buck wildly against him. Her thighs tightened around him, pulling him to her harder yet, his pelvis slamming hard against her aching clit. Her words had degenerated into loud, piercing screams as she fell over the cliff and into heaven.

Buffy's orgasm came from somewhere so deep within her, it was something she’d never touched before, nothing before had ever been this intense. Spike kept pumping her, holding back his own release to make sure she had found her heaven. As her screams of ecstasy echoed off the walls of the room, her inner muscles clenching him tighter and tighter, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Spike let himself go, spilling his cum deep inside her with a roar that started somewhere deep in his belly and seemed to vibrate throughout the entire room.

Their orgasms started to slowly fade into small tremors of pleasure as they both floated back down from heaven. His strength sapped for the moment, Spike could no longer hold himself up over her and he let his body collapse on top of hers, holding her close with his arms as she continued to hold him tight to her with her legs around his hips and her arms around his chiseled back; keeping his now spent cock buried deep inside her, never wanting to let him go.

Her heat against his skin felt like the light of the sun itself: glowing, warm; he hadn’t been able to enjoy the sun in over a century, but this was it, this is how it felt, he was sure of it. Somewhere from the back of his mind the word effulgent crept up to his consciousness, and he couldn’t help a small smile at the thought.

“There will be a short intermission before your lessons resume,” Spike murmured into her ear.

She gave his cock a hard squeeze inside her.

He pushed up on his arms so he could look at her. “Vixen!” he accused.

“Guilty,” she admitted, smiling innocently.

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