by Spikeskat
When Spike brought her back from their ride, she’d sworn to herself that she’d end it. Yeah, the sex was great, fantastic even. Mind-blowing, if she was honest with herself.
That was the problem though… she wasn’t.
Honest.
At least with herself.
If she was, then maybe she’d tell the vamp how she was beginning to feel about him, instead of convincing herself that she would be better off with him out of her life.
‘Dangerous thoughts, Buffy.’
She put the finishing touches on her lipstick and set it aside, then glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The dark wig was in place once more. Her face was made up again; she looked like a hooker. Heck, even the getup she was wearing – black corset and skimpy leather skirt, paired with the three-inch stiletto boots she’d worn last time – screamed street walker. And to save time, she’d not even bothered to wear a thong.
Not wanting the others to see her in her disguise, she slipped out through her bedroom window – a bit tricky with the heels and skirt – and made her way towards town… and her spot. It wouldn’t be long before Spike found her; he seemed to have a sixth sense about her moods.
‘Because he’s in love with you… Of course he’s gonna know what you’re feeling.’
Buffy ignored her inner voice and the warm fuzzies she got in the pit of her stomach knowing how Spike felt about her. It was something she couldn’t fail to know, given that he shouted it each time he came. How he’d attempt to hold her in the aftermath of their joint orgasms, try to comfort her, connect with her.
He told her over and over – deep blue eyes pleading for her to please believe him. When she wouldn’t, the color would change to a stormy amber, glaring at her, yelling at her.
“Why won’t you believe me? I love you, Buffy. I wish I couldn’t… but I do.”
“You can’t love me, you don’t have a soul.”
“Angelus tell you that? Does it help you sleep at night?”
It would be followed almost immediately by his apology…and more sex. Lots and lots of sex. Until she was too tired to move. Too tired to think. Too tired to care when he’d move in closer and curl up behind her, his whispered ‘I love you,’ bringing a slight smile to her lips as she drifted off to sleep, held tightly in his arms.
This is wrong, so wrong… I can’t fall for another vampire. I won’t fall for another vampire.
“I’m ending it… this is the last time,” she told herself firmly, back against the lamppost… waiting. “I can’t love another vampire… especially one without a soul.”
She’d been standing there for no more than five minutes when she heard the distinct rumble of his motorcycle as it tore through the town. He rounded the corner and Buffy gave one last tug to her corset and pasted on a brilliant smile.
One last ride… make it count, Buffy.
Spike stopped at the curb, tires screeching on the asphalt. He wore no helmet, just like last time. But, unlike last time, he didn’t spare her a glance. Just gunned the engine and waited. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was mad at her.
‘Impossible. He loves you.’
Funny how her inner voice sounded sarcastic even to her own ears.
Unsettled slightly, she stumbled on impossibly high heels and only her slayer agility kept her upright and not sprawled face first on the sidewalk. As she got closer, Buffy looked at Spike’s face. Sure enough, there was a noticeable tick in his jaw – he was angry.
“You gettin’ on or what?” he snapped when she just stood there.
“I…”
Buffy actually hesitated as an emotion she’d not felt since being sucked out of heaven swept over her – guilt. Guilt for the way she was – and had been – treating him. But in the end, she scrambled onto the seat behind him, her bare legs squeezing tight against his own, reveling in the rough scrape of denim against her inner thighs. She’d just wrapped her arms around his middle when he opened up the throttle and tore off down the street on his way out of town.
The wind whipped at the long strands of her wig and she was forced to press her cheek against his back, using his body as a barrier. His duster felt good against her skin, velvety soft. She inhaled deeply, delighting in the leathery smell that barely eclipsed the scent of tobacco and bar soap – Spike had showered before he’d picked her up.
Closing her eyes, Buffy gave herself over to the ride. The man – vampire – in front of her. The bike beneath her. Both of them dangerous. Both of them just what she craved. What she needed.
Their speed eventually tapered off, and then they were turning off the road and stopping altogether. Buffy opened her eyes and was surprised to see that they’d come back to the same place as before. She felt the bike settle as Spike leaned it on the kickstand.
He dismounted and Buffy frowned at feeling the motor still running. Before she had a chance to process that thought, Spike had pushed her head down so that her cheek lay against the gas tank. Her hands fought to find purchase on the handlebars so that they wouldn’t be burned by the engine. Then she was dragged back until her ass was perched precariously on the edge of the seat.
She’d not heard Spike fumble with his jeans and had no idea what he’d planned until she felt his cock brush against her pussy.
Buffy gasped as she was abruptly penetrated from behind. No foreplay. No words. Just his dick forcing its way inside her body. She moaned slightly at the pain of his nearly-dry invasion and willed herself to relax. And that’s when she felt the rumbling beneath her.
The motorcycle… oh… god. It was still on. And vibrating.
And Spike was fucking her. And oh god, she was gonna come… already. She started babbling. More. Harder. Spike. Fuck me. Begging him to let her come.
Buffy didn’t realize he’d yet to speak a word. That he was fucking her with single-minded determinedness.
It was only after he’d come, and she too by default, that Buffy realized it. There was no “I love you,” shouted out for anyone to hear. There was no attempt to hold her close.
There was only silence… save for the soft rasp of a zipper as he tucked himself back in his pants.
Then the sound of footsteps as he walked away.
From her.
The End
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