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Ok, I know, I'm not supposed to be writing. But Jaime is sitll asleep! And I don't have the heart to wake him up, so I'm just killing time until he rouses himself from dream land. I guess that's what happens when you stay up all night, huh? I think we're going to his parents house though--God, I don't want to. I really don't want to. i'd rather he sleep the afternoon away.
Chapter 13
Buffy wondered if Spike would be able to smell the other men’s sweat on her skin, or taste their desire on her lips. She'd have to shower when she got home, so she could wash away the feel of their desperate and greedy fingers on her body.
While Spike had been laying her victim to rest, Buffy had been doing the one thing he specifically forbade her to do. She went for a walk. The way she figured it, she had enough time for at least four customers before Spike returned. Four customers he would never know about—four hundred dollars that was hers alone.
She saw a car she recognized and walked over with a saucy swing in her hips. She licked her lips slightly and smiled at the driver. He didn’t smile back.
“Where have you been?”
“Busy, baby.”
“You weren’t here the other night.”
She pouted prettily. “I missed you though. Don’t be mad at me baby. It makes me feel so sad when you’re mad at me.”
He sighed. “I’m not mad. Where’s Angel?”
Buffy frowned. Obviously news hadn’t gotten around yet. “Around. Why? You need to talk to him?”
“I guess not. Get in.”
Buffy’s candy colored smile widened. Things were shaping up to be a very productive night indeed. “What would you like?”
“I don’t have much time tonight. Just suck me off.” He handed her a wad of bills.
“Right here?”
“Yeah, I have to be home in twenty minutes. The inlaws are coming over tonight…” He babbled about his plans for the evening while Buffy made the appropriate sympathetic noises and slipped the condom in her mouth.
Buffy had never really enjoyed this part of her job, but now she did even less. Great, he’s ruining me for other cocks. Fantastic. Just wonderful. I should cut his off. Her customer just leaned back, didn’t touch her in any way, and the grunts he made were more annoying than anything. Does it matter?
It shouldn’t matter at all, on any level. It never had before. She never cared what they felt, as long as they paid, and she never felt anything. But now she was thinking of how Spike had made her ache for him, without even trying. I hate him so much. So, so much. As if to prove how much she hated him, she focused on her job with renewed energy and enthusiasm. Why should Spike get all the fun when he wouldn’t even pay for it?
“Wow,” he breathed when it was over. “That was worth more…”
He fumbled for his wallet, and handed Buffy several more bills. She took them with a smile. “My pleasure.”
“I’ll see you next week?”
“Definitely.”
“Maybe sooner if you do that again.”
“If you have the money, honey, I got the time.”
She had actually been able to fit in five johns. Plus the $50 tip. Spike had paid her rent for the month, her bills, and gave her money for food. Buffy felt downright wealthy with the wrinkled twenties and tens and ones lining her pocket—and that made her very happy.
Buffy took a long, hot bath when she got home in an effort to wash away all the evidence of the night’s activities. She didn’t want to find out if Spike could sense the dirty lust and sweaty sex, because she really didn’t want to know what he would do. She was in such a good mood that she didn’t want to deal with him being a jerk—well, more so. Also, she figured that making herself clean and fresh was the least she could do, since he was spending the night burying a body.
Once out of the tub, and wrapped snuggly in a large towel, she lit a few scented candles. She wasn’t in a romantic mood, she just liked the way the vanilla and cookie flavored candles made her apartment smell. Like somebody was cooking—her mother maybe. She wasn’t prone to pointless nostalgia, but it didn’t hurt to indulge in once in awhile. Especially when she was feeling so fine.
Spike found her stretched out on the bed on her stomach, naked and asleep, the towel draped over her back. The candles were burning low, and sent shadows dancing on the walls. He stood above her and watched for a long time. Asleep, with her face scrubbed clean, she looked almost like a kid. Not for the first time, he wondered how old she could possibly be. He thought nineteen would be pushing it.
He pulled the damp towel off of her body, revealing her smooth back and the firm curve of her ass. It was still marked, the cuts still standing bright and red against her white skin. Regardless of what had happened in that room, Chris had gotten her before he died. The question became, just who was acting in self-defense?
Spike ran his hands down her back lightly, enjoying the soft feel of her skin. He followed the curve of her spine with his fingertips and then his mouth. She smelled like flowery soap and tasted a bit salty. She didn’t stir as he continued his exploration of her back. It had a few marks, a few small scars, even a bruise on the shoulder. He kissed each one in turn.
“Buffy?” He said softly. No response.
Spike grabbed a candle sitting on the nightstand with the intent of blowing it out when he noticed the hot pool of wax at the base. He looked from it to her back, his tongue touching his lip thoughtfully. Then he gently tilted his wrist over her back. The flame flickered as first one drop, then another and another fell on her back.
Buffy woke immediately, but Spike was holding her down so she couldn’t escape. “What are you doing?” Anger, surprise, shock, and pain coated her words.
“Don’t move.”
Spike moved the hand that had been holding her down, and she immediately tried to jump up. He caught her though and forced her back onto her stomach.
“I said, don’t move.”
He put the candle in his right hand and began caressing her thigh softly with his left. Then, with serious concentration, he began trailing drops of hot wax across her back. Buffy tensed, not enjoying the pain at all. But the more he worked, the more she realized that it didn’t really hurt. The initial contact stung, but the more she relaxed, the better it felt.
The wax cooled almost as soon as it hit her skin, and she could feel it harden and flake on her slightly burned and sensitive skin. Spike continued to work until it felt like there was wax on every inch of her back, though she was sure that wasn’t the case. The hand that had been caressing her thigh moved deeper between her legs, until they were delving into her wet skin, brushing against her throbbing clit.
“Miss me?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad.” The candle moved lower, down her legs. He didn’t make any real attempt to avoid the scabbed over cuts. He continued in a conversational tone, “I would have been here sooner, but it takes some time to bury a body properly.”
“You didn’t have to come by at all,” she said as he continued working on her body. Despite the initial sharp pain of each line and drop of wax, she was growing almost comfortable under his touch. Light headed even.
Spike held the candle over the back of her knee and allowed the wax to pool there until she was gasping with pain. “That hurts.”
“I know.”
He moved the candle closer to her leg. Now she could feel the flame dancing near her skin. The heat from the fire made the hardening wax melt again and roll down the sides of her legs. She held completely still, afraid that if she so much as trembled the flame would touch her skin. Spike allowed it to touch her skin though, holding it against her leg for what felt like long minutes, but was only scant seconds. She jumped and yelped, trying to pull away from him.
“That hurt?”
“What do you think?”
He chuckled darkly and blew the flame out, setting the candle aside. “Miss me?” He asked again.
This time she forced herself to answer in the affirmative.
Spike unbuttoned his pants with one hand, while he dragged her to her knees with the other. “Good…good…”
He knelt behind her when he was ready, and thrust into her quickly. He wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled on it as he pounded into her. Buffy closed her eyes, and gasped as the pleasure-pain blossomed in her, moving from her groin to her stomach, up to her head, out to her fingers.
Spike scraped his fingers down her back, picking up pieces of dry wax and aggravating her burnt skin. She whimpered at the contact, tempted to beg him to stop, tempted to beg him to do it harder. She didn’t know what he wanted to hear though. Would he want to know that he was hurting her, or that she liked it?
Her mouth made the decision, and before she even knew what she was saying the words, “Spike…more…” tumbled out.
“Like that, huh?” He reached around her and grabbed her breast. With two fingers, he pinched her nipple and twisted it. The pain spread across her chest and into her shoulder, and she wanted to ask him to stop, but all she could do was gasp and moan, as though she liked it. He finally released her nipple, just when she was sure she was going to cry out—again, uncertain if it would be to beg him to stop or for more.
He raked his fingernails across her chest and down her stomach. Bright red marks surfaced and began to fade before she even noticed them. His other hand was still buried in her hair, and her scalp was tingling and aching in protest. He was still pushing into her as hard as he could; so hard in fact that she was actually beginning to feel sore, and when was the last time that happened?
“Oh…god…” he gasped, and pulled her hair until she was forced to straighten. He came hard, his chest shaking against her back—he reach around though and began rubbing her clit, even as his cock began to shrink and pull out of her. He bit her shoulder hard as she neared her climax, and that sent her to the stars.
Spike collapsed on the bed. He didn’t fall asleep, but he didn’t offer to help her with the wax or the various marks and scratches on her body. She didn’t wait for him either. She quietly went to the bathroom and cleaned up and doctored the small burns on the back of her legs.
Chapter 13
Buffy wondered if Spike would be able to smell the other men’s sweat on her skin, or taste their desire on her lips. She'd have to shower when she got home, so she could wash away the feel of their desperate and greedy fingers on her body.
While Spike had been laying her victim to rest, Buffy had been doing the one thing he specifically forbade her to do. She went for a walk. The way she figured it, she had enough time for at least four customers before Spike returned. Four customers he would never know about—four hundred dollars that was hers alone.
She saw a car she recognized and walked over with a saucy swing in her hips. She licked her lips slightly and smiled at the driver. He didn’t smile back.
“Where have you been?”
“Busy, baby.”
“You weren’t here the other night.”
She pouted prettily. “I missed you though. Don’t be mad at me baby. It makes me feel so sad when you’re mad at me.”
He sighed. “I’m not mad. Where’s Angel?”
Buffy frowned. Obviously news hadn’t gotten around yet. “Around. Why? You need to talk to him?”
“I guess not. Get in.”
Buffy’s candy colored smile widened. Things were shaping up to be a very productive night indeed. “What would you like?”
“I don’t have much time tonight. Just suck me off.” He handed her a wad of bills.
“Right here?”
“Yeah, I have to be home in twenty minutes. The inlaws are coming over tonight…” He babbled about his plans for the evening while Buffy made the appropriate sympathetic noises and slipped the condom in her mouth.
Buffy had never really enjoyed this part of her job, but now she did even less. Great, he’s ruining me for other cocks. Fantastic. Just wonderful. I should cut his off. Her customer just leaned back, didn’t touch her in any way, and the grunts he made were more annoying than anything. Does it matter?
It shouldn’t matter at all, on any level. It never had before. She never cared what they felt, as long as they paid, and she never felt anything. But now she was thinking of how Spike had made her ache for him, without even trying. I hate him so much. So, so much. As if to prove how much she hated him, she focused on her job with renewed energy and enthusiasm. Why should Spike get all the fun when he wouldn’t even pay for it?
“Wow,” he breathed when it was over. “That was worth more…”
He fumbled for his wallet, and handed Buffy several more bills. She took them with a smile. “My pleasure.”
“I’ll see you next week?”
“Definitely.”
“Maybe sooner if you do that again.”
“If you have the money, honey, I got the time.”
She had actually been able to fit in five johns. Plus the $50 tip. Spike had paid her rent for the month, her bills, and gave her money for food. Buffy felt downright wealthy with the wrinkled twenties and tens and ones lining her pocket—and that made her very happy.
Buffy took a long, hot bath when she got home in an effort to wash away all the evidence of the night’s activities. She didn’t want to find out if Spike could sense the dirty lust and sweaty sex, because she really didn’t want to know what he would do. She was in such a good mood that she didn’t want to deal with him being a jerk—well, more so. Also, she figured that making herself clean and fresh was the least she could do, since he was spending the night burying a body.
Once out of the tub, and wrapped snuggly in a large towel, she lit a few scented candles. She wasn’t in a romantic mood, she just liked the way the vanilla and cookie flavored candles made her apartment smell. Like somebody was cooking—her mother maybe. She wasn’t prone to pointless nostalgia, but it didn’t hurt to indulge in once in awhile. Especially when she was feeling so fine.
Spike found her stretched out on the bed on her stomach, naked and asleep, the towel draped over her back. The candles were burning low, and sent shadows dancing on the walls. He stood above her and watched for a long time. Asleep, with her face scrubbed clean, she looked almost like a kid. Not for the first time, he wondered how old she could possibly be. He thought nineteen would be pushing it.
He pulled the damp towel off of her body, revealing her smooth back and the firm curve of her ass. It was still marked, the cuts still standing bright and red against her white skin. Regardless of what had happened in that room, Chris had gotten her before he died. The question became, just who was acting in self-defense?
Spike ran his hands down her back lightly, enjoying the soft feel of her skin. He followed the curve of her spine with his fingertips and then his mouth. She smelled like flowery soap and tasted a bit salty. She didn’t stir as he continued his exploration of her back. It had a few marks, a few small scars, even a bruise on the shoulder. He kissed each one in turn.
“Buffy?” He said softly. No response.
Spike grabbed a candle sitting on the nightstand with the intent of blowing it out when he noticed the hot pool of wax at the base. He looked from it to her back, his tongue touching his lip thoughtfully. Then he gently tilted his wrist over her back. The flame flickered as first one drop, then another and another fell on her back.
Buffy woke immediately, but Spike was holding her down so she couldn’t escape. “What are you doing?” Anger, surprise, shock, and pain coated her words.
“Don’t move.”
Spike moved the hand that had been holding her down, and she immediately tried to jump up. He caught her though and forced her back onto her stomach.
“I said, don’t move.”
He put the candle in his right hand and began caressing her thigh softly with his left. Then, with serious concentration, he began trailing drops of hot wax across her back. Buffy tensed, not enjoying the pain at all. But the more he worked, the more she realized that it didn’t really hurt. The initial contact stung, but the more she relaxed, the better it felt.
The wax cooled almost as soon as it hit her skin, and she could feel it harden and flake on her slightly burned and sensitive skin. Spike continued to work until it felt like there was wax on every inch of her back, though she was sure that wasn’t the case. The hand that had been caressing her thigh moved deeper between her legs, until they were delving into her wet skin, brushing against her throbbing clit.
“Miss me?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad.” The candle moved lower, down her legs. He didn’t make any real attempt to avoid the scabbed over cuts. He continued in a conversational tone, “I would have been here sooner, but it takes some time to bury a body properly.”
“You didn’t have to come by at all,” she said as he continued working on her body. Despite the initial sharp pain of each line and drop of wax, she was growing almost comfortable under his touch. Light headed even.
Spike held the candle over the back of her knee and allowed the wax to pool there until she was gasping with pain. “That hurts.”
“I know.”
He moved the candle closer to her leg. Now she could feel the flame dancing near her skin. The heat from the fire made the hardening wax melt again and roll down the sides of her legs. She held completely still, afraid that if she so much as trembled the flame would touch her skin. Spike allowed it to touch her skin though, holding it against her leg for what felt like long minutes, but was only scant seconds. She jumped and yelped, trying to pull away from him.
“That hurt?”
“What do you think?”
He chuckled darkly and blew the flame out, setting the candle aside. “Miss me?” He asked again.
This time she forced herself to answer in the affirmative.
Spike unbuttoned his pants with one hand, while he dragged her to her knees with the other. “Good…good…”
He knelt behind her when he was ready, and thrust into her quickly. He wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled on it as he pounded into her. Buffy closed her eyes, and gasped as the pleasure-pain blossomed in her, moving from her groin to her stomach, up to her head, out to her fingers.
Spike scraped his fingers down her back, picking up pieces of dry wax and aggravating her burnt skin. She whimpered at the contact, tempted to beg him to stop, tempted to beg him to do it harder. She didn’t know what he wanted to hear though. Would he want to know that he was hurting her, or that she liked it?
Her mouth made the decision, and before she even knew what she was saying the words, “Spike…more…” tumbled out.
“Like that, huh?” He reached around her and grabbed her breast. With two fingers, he pinched her nipple and twisted it. The pain spread across her chest and into her shoulder, and she wanted to ask him to stop, but all she could do was gasp and moan, as though she liked it. He finally released her nipple, just when she was sure she was going to cry out—again, uncertain if it would be to beg him to stop or for more.
He raked his fingernails across her chest and down her stomach. Bright red marks surfaced and began to fade before she even noticed them. His other hand was still buried in her hair, and her scalp was tingling and aching in protest. He was still pushing into her as hard as he could; so hard in fact that she was actually beginning to feel sore, and when was the last time that happened?
“Oh…god…” he gasped, and pulled her hair until she was forced to straighten. He came hard, his chest shaking against her back—he reach around though and began rubbing her clit, even as his cock began to shrink and pull out of her. He bit her shoulder hard as she neared her climax, and that sent her to the stars.
Spike collapsed on the bed. He didn’t fall asleep, but he didn’t offer to help her with the wax or the various marks and scratches on her body. She didn’t wait for him either. She quietly went to the bathroom and cleaned up and doctored the small burns on the back of her legs.
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mmm...candles...
M
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no subject
Something tells me the big, bad, mean, cop is going to find out and it won't be pretty.
Loved this chapter even more since I wasn't expecting it.
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From: (Anonymous)
Hot!
And did I miss something or didn't they use a condom for the first time....? Aha!! What does that mean?? ;)
Sue
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Re: Hot!
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Re: Hot!
You're such a tease. ;)
I'm seriously loving this story. It's so hot and twisted. And I don't know whether to sympathize more with Spike or Buffy, because I think that they're both trying to screw each other over. Good times, good times.
Enjoy your weekend!
From: (Anonymous)
no subject
But maybe one more chapter this week-end -- just one . . . I am SO greedy for this story.
Judith
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you naughty, evil girl.
you should be spanked with feathers. ;]
now go spend time with yo man
shoo
ps...LOVED the chapter. i'm such a pepper ho.
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Loved the chapter!
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...
...Damn. I just can't bring myself to complain about getting an unexpected update. ::sigh:: I'm awful.
However, I did take a stab at a fanart piece to go with Mad World. It's in my LJ, here. It's not as dark and nasty as I had planned, but sometimes I just can't make the pictures conform to my will.
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Forplay?