Dr. Spike

by SpikesKat

“Paging Dr. Spike. Dr. Spike, please report to the E.R.,” a singsong voice chimed out from the upper level of the house, the melodious tones drifting to the occupant sprawled on the living room couch.  

Spike and Buffy had the house to themselves. Willow had taken Dawn with her early that morning to meet up with Tara and spend the day doing “girl stuff,” with plans for the three of them to stay at Tara’s for the night. Tara and Willow were officially back together and working on keeping Willow magic-free. Hence, the “woman power” bonding excursion. Buffy would have gone with, she was all about “women” and “powers” and the fun that could only be had when four girls got together for an extended period of time.  

But then… well… there’d been Spike to consider. And as much as she enjoyed hanging out with her friends, an entire day alone with the vamp had been too good an opportunity to pass up. 

So, she’d sent the two off with a wave and instructions to have fun. That she’d see them sometime tomorrow. Late tomorrow. 

~*~ 

Spike was currently stretched out on the couch, thoroughly engrossed in the latest episode of Passions. When he had turned the program on earlier, Buffy had rolled her eyes at him – at his choice in programming… and his desire to spent their time alone watching TV instead of making with other… fun stuff – before leaving in a huff to take a shower upstairs.

Hearing Buffy’s voice call out once more, Spike couldn’t help the smirk that stole across his features as his mind drifted back to when he had first arrived this morning.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike left the safety of his crypt, braving the early morning rays to sneak over to the Slayer’s house. She’d called him less than ten minutes ago, for once grateful for the cell phone she’d thrust in his hands a few weeks prior, giving him the “coast-was-clear” sign. The woolen blanket he had pulled tightly around himself was just starting to smoke as he slipped through the kitchen doorway and slammed the door shut. He flung it aside to lie in a heap in the corner of the kitchen and had just shrugged his shoulders to resettle his duster about his frame when he was attacked by a blur of naked slayer.

His arms reached out instinctively, barely catching her around the waist as she launched herself from what seemed like halfway across the room, slamming into his body with the force of a freight train. Driving him back hard against the door behind him. It was a wonder the glass windows didn’t shatter beneath the strain. Her arms went around his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips, locking her bare body in place against his.  

A muffled “ummpfff” was driven from his lips from the impact, but her lips settled over his and the sound was swallowed by her mouth. Then her tongue, her wicked, wicked tongue was doing things… naughty things, calling forth even more noises. God, he loved it when she went all cavewoman on him, and he eagerly gave himself over to her sudden dominance.

At least until he smelt something burning. Followed quickly by feeling something burning.

Namely, his flesh.

Bloody hell! And, oh, by the way… ouch! 

A gasp, this one of pain, and he gripped the Slayer’s hair and gave a tug, tearing her mouth away from his. He cursed a blue streak, grumbling about bloody kitchen doors with bloody windows and bloody curtains that did little to protect a vamp. 

To which the Slayer – sadistic wench that she was – tinkled with laughter. Her and her “poor baby did little Spikey get burned” attitude. It was a wonder he didn’t turn on his heel and go home. 

But, then, he wasn’t a martyr, and wouldn’t deny himself the pleasure of sinking his cock into her delectable pussy.

Pushing himself away from the hazardous door, muttering about showing her how “little” he wasn’t, he carried her into the living room. Which, he noticed, was much darker than usual thanks to the extra coverings she had placed on the windows. He crossed swiftly to the couch and knelt down, letting Buffy’s bare back rest upon the seat cushions. Following her down and covering her naked body with his clothed one. He debated whether to strip or just free himself and ram his way home.

Later, his demon muttered. Take her now. Hard and fast. 

He couldn’t have agreed more. 

His fingers flew over the buttons of his fly, nearly tearing the sodding things when they didn’t free themselves quick enough. He braced himself on one arm while the other shoved his jeans down over his ass, just low enough to allow his cock to spring free. A quick shimmy of his hips and he was sliding into her slick quim.  

A happy sigh was heard from the slayer once he was all the way in; a low, rumble of pleasure answered it. His lips found hers, delivering soft little nips to her lower lip before he sucked it into his mouth and nibbled a bit harder. More grunts and moans, and Spike grinned around the piece of flesh in his mouth. He released her bottom lip with a loud pop, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at her sudden pout. Fuck, but he loved that pouty bottom lip.

He’d wanted hard and fast. Had every intention of fucking the slayer into the cushions until he was crying out his release. Especially after that little stunt she’d pulled which culminated in him getting singed. And smarting from the pain, which was an intense bit of foreplay for his demon, he’d strode through the kitchen towards the living room to do just that. Throw her on the couch, free himself, and give her what she wanted… what they both wanted. 

Only now, sheathed within her pussy, his demon happily rumbling inside his chest, Spike found himself wanting to take his time… to prolong their dance. To have them both begging for their release.

His tongue sought entry to the Slayer’s mouth, which was eagerly granted. Long, slow strokes across her palate that mimicked the slow, rhythmic pumping of his hips he began. Drawing out their pleasure.

Making them burn ever so slowly.

~*~

‘The man is evil to tease me like this,’ Buffy thought vaguely, hips desperately trying to break the vampire’s hold and force him to a faster pace. Needing to ease the tension coiled tightly within her body and silence the pounding between her legs. A tension that had steadily grown in the moments since Dawn’s and Willow’s departure as she waited for Spike to show.

Instead, he’d changed tactics on her. Was all about the “slow” and “leisurely.”

She needed him to move – hard and fast. Needed him to pound into her so hard that she would be in danger of sliding up and over the arm of the couch. Trying to convey her desperate thoughts with her body, her lips otherwise engaged, she shifted her legs higher on his back, increasing the depth of his thrusts. He groaned into her mouth and rumbled his pleasure as he slipped that much deeper inside her slick passage.

Buffy was encouraged by the noise he made. Any minute now… just… 

And damned if his tortuous pace never wavered! 

His slow, measured strokes made her arch helplessly towards him; she tried to grind herself against him, anything to stimulate her clitoris and send her over the edge. But, it was like he could sense what she was trying to do and thwarted her efforts.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, Buffy fisted her hands in his unruly hair and pulled his head back, breaking their kiss. She licked a trail down his neck, knowing how sensitive it was, figuring it would be the proverbial straw. Silently smiling because she knew she’d won. 

And yet, that damnably slow pace of his never faltered. 

She narrowed her eyes in concentration, determined to break that inflexible control of his. Trailing her tongue back and forth over his jugular, she teased one of his most sensitive erogenous zones with hot, wet licks. His guttural moans and slightly faster thrusts told her that she was getting to him – ‘bout fucking time, and could he be any more stubborn? – just like she wanted.  

Then she went for the slam-dunk and bit him. Hard. Her teeth clamped down on the skin, right over his jugular, with enough strength to break the surface. Actually tasted blood in her mouth and couldn’t resist sucking some into her mouth. 

It was like a switch being thrown…

Spike’s control snapped. Eyes flashing yellow, he let his demon come to the fore and let loose. Pounding into her for all he was worth. Grunts and growls, dirty little ditties snarled from his lips.

“This what you want… fuck you hard… give it to you… Slayer…take it…”  

The force of his thrusts rocked her backwards and her head did butt up against the arm of the couch… but she didn’t care. She felt too good.

“Oh God, yes!” she cried. Finally. “More…harder…give it to me good… yes, yes, yes!” were frequent words that she shouted out, egging him on.

She came hard, screaming like a banshee, uncaring of the neighbors that might hear. Her inner walls clamped down on his dick, their rhythmic squeezing urging him to join her.  

Spike needed no further prodding and eagerly let himself go, a choked “Buffy” escaping his lips as his cold seed shot into her, cooling the fever raging within her body. Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her. 

“Again,” Buffy mumbled exhaustedly, delighting in how his body draped limply over hers, pushing her deeper into the cushions. Covering, not smothering.

“Gimme a sec, luv. I’ll get right to that,” Spike replied, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice in between unnecessary pants. ‘Bloody hell! Where were the tender words, the blissful thoughts of completion, the… Hell, who am I kidding? Again it is! Just as soon as I get some energy back in my legs.’ 

Buffy cracked one eye open at the sound of his sarcastic jibe. Practically imagined the pout on his face.

Spike braced himself slightly up off her body and allowed his semi-hard cock to slip free. Another moan left his lips as he felt her inner muscles clamp down in a failed effort to stop him from leaving. He wanted nothing more than to sink back into her warmth, but he’d rather take their little sexcapades up to her room; her bed was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the narrow confines of the couch. Plus, it wasn’t often they got to spend time up there, and he was determined to wipe the memory of her human boytoy from the room. Shifting up to his knees, he tucked himself back into his jeans and refastened his fly. His gaze slid over Buffy’s sun-kissed, sweat-laden skin. Her eyes were once again closed in post-coital bliss and her arms lay limply at her sides.

“C’mon, luv, ‘again’ is gonna bloody well be upstairs. Preferably stretched out on your bed.”

His words caused Buffy’s lips to turn down into a slight pout; her body felt way too languid to move from her current position on the couch. It was much too far a walk from where she lay… all the way up to her room. If Spike wanted her upstairs, he was going to have to carry her.

Sensing that she wasn’t going to move on her own, Spike got off the couch and scooped her up into his arms. Buffy cooed happily and wrapped her arms around his neck as he made his way swiftly upstairs.  

She couldn’t help but giggle softly at his eagerness to get to her room, her mind already drifting to what he had planned for “again.”

~*~*~*~*~ 

His smirk widened to an all-out grin, remembering how they had spent the remainder of the morning. They’d made love several more times: in the bed, on the floor, up against the bedroom wall. Any flat surface that had been available had seen some type of action, and even a few that weren’t so flat. They hadn’t been able to get enough of each other.  

They’d eventually drifted back downstairs for snacks and ended up back on the couch in front of the television. She’d made him watch the Disney channel… which he’d immediately changed the second he sensed her nod off.

Spike had channel-surfed for awhile; nothing on the set had kept his interest for long. Then he saw that Passions was about to come on and he smiled and set the remote aside, drawing the Slayer back against his chest as he settled in to watch his program.

“Dr. O’Malley finally realizes his love for Nurse Betty. Will he have time to tell her before she takes the job out of town? Find out on today’s episode of Passions…”

Buffy had groaned upon waking up to hear the opening credits announced, pulling out of Spike’s arms and telling him that she was going to take a shower. 

Spike heard the shower turn on and debated whether or not he should join her. Then, the commercials had ended and Passions was once more on the screen. He settled back down to watch his show, decision made. He would join her during the next commercial break. 

Unfortunately, the water shut off before the next round of commercials. He heard the floors squeak upstairs as she went from the bathroom to her bedroom. Then it got quiet. Almost too quiet. 

‘What is she doing up there?’

He was just about to get up and go after her, even though his show wasn’t yet over, when he heard her voice.

“Paging, Dr. Spike. Dr. Spike, please report to the E.R.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he shut off the television and bounded up the stairs. Role-playing time. He pushed open her bedroom door and stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at Buffy leaning against the bedpost. Her hair was pinned up, exposing her neck, and she had on a frilly, white creation that barely covered her tempting curves from his lecherous gaze. A stethoscope hung around her neck.

Buffy gave Spike a knowing smile as she spotted his shocked expression. She’d secretly bought the “nurses” outfit over a week ago and had been waiting for an excuse to wear it. The Passions introduction had given her the idea, and she’d rummaged through her closet until she found the stethoscope – a necessary instrument purchased when she had to keep an eye on her mom’s blood pressure after her surgery. Pushing that slightly maudlin thought aside, she regarded the blond vampire before her.

Spike hadn’t bothered to dress earlier, obviously very comfortable with his nudity. She eyed his jutting cock, which had sprung to attention as he opened the door to her bedroom and got a good look at her outfit.  

White stocking feet attached to garters covered her legs. A white, lacy scrap of a triangle covered her mound. Completely see-through, it allowed him to view the thin strip of dark curls. A matching white lace corset completed the ensemble. Except, the corset didn’t cover her breasts. Instead it wrapped around her waist leaving them bare to his gaze. From the way Spike was looking at her, Buffy didn’t really think he saw this as a problem.

His eyes having glazed over and now infused with a shot of amber, Spike took long, purposeful strides into the room. His goal: to reach Buffy, throw her back upon the bed, and ravish her for the next several hours.  

Seeing the lustful gleam in his eye, she held up her hand in front of her in “traffic-officer” style just as he reached the bed.

“Ah, ah, ah…” she chastised, wiggling a finger at him. “Nurse Buffy needs some help, Doctor.”

Spike stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side, his smirk firmly in place. His tongue came to rest behind his teeth before he spoke. “What kind of help, Nurse Buffy?”

She twirled around the post, presenting him with her back as she slowly climbed up the end of the bed. She slipped the stethoscope off from around her neck and glanced over her shoulder, giving him a come-hither stare. 

“I have this ache… right here,” she pouted; her fingers teased the edge of lace between her legs. “And my heart is pounding… Think you can… assist me?” she questioned breathlessly, glance flitting between her ass and his face, leaving him with no doubt as to how she would like to be “assisted.” She dangled the stethoscope in front of her.

Spike was unable to respond vocally, heck, he was lucky his feet were able to get him onto the bed. His hand reached out in an attempt to snag the stethoscope from her hand. Only, it took him a few tries since his eyes were locked on the white globes of her smooth bottom and the single strand of… something that disappeared into the crack of her ass. Once his hand finally closed over the thing, he stared at it uncomprehendingly, unable to figure out just what he was supposed to be doing with it.

“Oh… I hurt, Doctor,” Buffy whined prettily, drawing his attention back to her; she batted her lashes and wiggled her ass invitingly. “Do something…” Another ass twitch.

Spike stared at the stethoscope for a minute more before tossing it aside. He damn sure didn’t need the thing; he could hear the Slayer’s heartbeat slamming against her chest just fine without it.  

The sound was driving him crazy. 

Smiling knowingly, Buffy waited for him to get with the program. Passions, indeed. She’d show him passion. Pleased when he finally moved closer, she rolled onto her back and spread her legs wide. Apparently not wide enough, because he’d no sooner settled himself between her legs than he used his own to force hers wider still.

Spike took a moment to admire the view before reaching between the Slayer’s legs and ripping the tiny scrap of lace from her crotch. He leered at her when she jumped in response, a slight flush stealing over her cheeks. It amazed him, her mix of innocence and demanding need. How even now, when her body said “fuck me right this second” her eyes held a certain child-like innocence. Seeing her blush at his continued regard, he grinned and knowing it would make her blush, he lifted her knickers to his nose, inhaling deeply.  

Sure enough, her cheeks deepened… but she didn’t look away.

Spike impatiently tossed the white lace aside, tired of his play, wanting to be inside her already. With a hand on either leg, he lifted them up to rest on his shoulders, allowing her ankles to lock behind his head. He grabbed his cock in hand and teasingly slid it up and down her hot pussy, lingering over her moist entrance, where her juices instantly saturated the head. Positioning himself at her slick opening, he grabbed her hips and pulled her forward onto his hard length, holding her flush against him.  

“Oh god…” Buffy whimpered. The curls at the base of his shaft brushed against her exposed clit, causing her to bite down on her bottom lip as she held back a moan. Then she felt herself being pulled off his cock; Spike wasn’t moving at all. Just when he was about to slide free, it started all over again, her being lifted and lowered on his cock while he remained motionless on his knees before her. Making her fuck him, rather than the other way around.

God, she was going to come again. Could feel her inner muscles begin to spasm against his length. 

“You wanna fuck me harder, Slayer? Wanna grind yourself against my dick?” 

Buffy opened her eyes to see the intense concentration on his face, his eyes more golden than blue. She nodded, unable to get the words out. His hold on her tightened, then she was moving faster, harder, her ass slammed against his thighs over and over. Mindless to the pleasure, her back arched, exposing her vulnerable neck. 

Spike could see the blood pumping swiftly through her veins. The sound of it pounded in his ears. He could feel his balls tightening up, ready to let loose their load inside her and wanted the slayer there with him. Removing one hand from its punishing grip, he brought it forward to thumb her clit. Back and forth, around in a circle, he brushed his hand across the sensitive bundle of nerves until she tensed then convulsed around him.

With the slayer seen to, he let himself seek his own release. Hands on her hips, he thrust hard and fast until he spent himself inside her, and even then he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. She just felt so bloody good and was squeezing him so tight.

Vaguely, he recalled releasing the Slayer’s legs from his shoulders, groaning with regret as his softened cock slipped free from her pussy. He collapsed beside her, his face buried in one of her pillows. The sound of her racing heart and erratic breathing was music to his ears. Nothing like knowing you’d given your woman a good seeing to. And if he wasn’t so exhausted he’d lift his head and leer at her.

As it was, the early afternoon hours and their continuous sexual activity were lulling him to sleep.

Maybe just a short nap… 

He draped his arm around the Slayer’s waist and pulled her close.

“Did the doctor make it all better?” he asked, just before sleep claimed him.

“Mmmmhmmmm,” she mumbled back.

The End

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