Inell's Fanfiction Archive

A loud sigh filled the room as channels on the television flickered past at fast rate. Spike raised his eyebrow and glanced at the redhead sitting on the floor, her back against the couch and her attention on the television in front of her. Her right thumb was pressing the channel button on the remote at a speed he hadn't thought humanly possible. She sighed again, this one louder than the first. His lips twitched in amusement as he glanced down at the magazine he had been thumbing through. He knew it annoyed her when he ignored her, though he didn't think she'd ever admit to being affected by him one way or another. He heard her groan and looked over to see her head fall back on the couch as she glared at the ceiling above.

"Problems, pet?"

She turned her head slightly, green eyes finding blue as she frowned, "There is nothing on TV."

"There are over a hundred and fifty stations, luv. You can't find anything?" he questioned in obvious disbelief.

"No."

"I don't think you want to find anything," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "I think you enjoy bothering me with the sighs and fidgeting."

"Now, Spike. Why would you think that?" she asked with wide eyes though her lips twisted in amusement.

"Brat," he said, deliberately opening his magazine and pretending to read, though his entire attention was focused on the temptress sitting near his feet.

He couldn't really remember when he had fallen for her. Didn't even really understand why. He just knew that one day, two months ago, he had been sitting around laughing with her and he realized he loved her. Rather silly, in a way. He had spent over a year following the slayer like a puppy dog looking for any scrap of affection she'd toss his way, hating what he felt for her at the same time as he craved her. After she had died, he'd been forced into some serious reflecting. He had no longer been sure if it had been Buffy he had needed, or if he had just been needed by anyone. When she'd come back, he'd looked into her hazel eyes and felt nothing. Not the hatred that he should have felt towards a slayer, but also not the love that he had convinced himself he felt. Instead, it had been a bit like finding a friend you hadn't seen in a while. And, strangely enough, they had become friends, him and the slayer. Shocked the hell out of him. Poor chit had been through a lot, though, and he liked to think he gave her someone to listen and understand. It was during that time that he had begun to accept the happiness that began to spread over him whenever he caught sight of the redhead. The calm that her voice seemed to place over him. The jealousy of seeing her with that complete waste of space she called a girlfriend. He had thrown a party the day that boring little bitch had left town, knowing that Red might be his someday. Might be his? That was a laugh. Willow seemed to have decided that he made the perfect substitute sister for some horribly weird reason. She was always over at his new apartment, watching his cable TV and complaining about how boring her life had become and how she loathed summer. He didn't mind, in a way, that she was so comfortable around him, but if she broke out the girly games, he was tossing her out on her pretty little butt. There were lines that even he would draw for love.

"I want school to start," she continued, ignoring him. "I'm so tired of having all this time and nothing to do."

"I've told you before, find a hobby," he reminded, loving the way her lips looked as she pouted. "Think of something you've always wanted to learn and haven't had time. Something like that."

"I've been trying to think of something," she said, looking at him. "I promise that I have. As soon as something comes to mind, you'll be the first to know."

"I could always teach you the fine art of torture," he suggested, laughing as she made a face.

"Thanks, but no thanks," she said, shuddering though a part of her mind took his words into a private fantasy that soon had her breathing ragged and her cheeks flushed.

Willow looked back at the TV, again asking herself if she was making the right decision. What if this entire plan blew up in her face and she lost what little she had? She'd spent all night talking to Buffy about it the previous evening. After her best friend had finished laughing and making disgusted noises, she'd been a great help in forcing Willow into acknowledging things she had been trying to ignore since before Tara had even left. She had assumed the reason she like hanging with Spike was because he didn't judge her, he accepted who she was and actually encouraged her to become more. He was constantly after her to continue growing, to learn everything that she could, to live her life. It seemed the last two years, she hadn't really been doing that. Living her life. She'd allowed herself to become first, what Oz wanted in the perfect girlfriend. Then, Tara's ideal of the perfect lover and companion. Somewhere along the way, she had lost herself. She didn't really know who she was really. Would the real Willow Rosenberg please stand up, she thought with a smile. With Spike's help, over the past couple of months, she had been reminded of her own likes and dislikes. She had slowly begun to become a person that she liked being. There was just something missing. Well, someone, she corrected as she glanced at Spike from the corner of her eyes. She wanted him. More than she had ever wanted another person. Her body ached for him. His touch, his voice, his thoughts. She wasn't sure yet if it was merely lust or something more. Could it be love? It was too new and recent for her to know yet. She just knew that she was about to take a big leap without a parachute. She prayed to the goddess to give her strength as she turned the TV off.

"Ah, silence," he said, flipping a page in his magazine. He heard movement and looked up to find her turned, her chin resting on her hands as she stared at him. "Yes?"

"I've thought of something that I can learn," she said, hoping she didn't sound as frightened as she felt.

"And?" he asked a bit impatiently. How was a man supposed to be nice and best friendly when she was looking at him with those green eyes?

"I don't know if I want to tell you. You might laugh," she said, her eyes focusing on his hands. Such large hands. Her heart began to race.

"I'd never laugh at you, luv," he said with a frown, hurt that she'd think that.

"I didn't mean," she saw his face and sighed, deciding she'd already fucked up and she hadn't even started. "Oral sex."

"What?" he sputtered, eyes wide as they looked at her. "I think I misunderstood you, pet."

She looked at him, strangely calm as she gave him a playful smile, "I know everything about a woman's body. With just a few licks and the right position, I could have her begging for more."

His eyes narrowed as he said, "So?"

"I never did that with Oz," she admitted, knowing her face was as red as her hair. "He was a bit boring in bed. It never lasted more than ten minutes total and we never played before or after. I was just thinking that I know how to please a woman, but I have no idea what to do with a man. I've heard about it, and seen it in a movie once, but I've never done it. So, that's what I decided to learn before school starts."

"You're going to learn how to give a man a blow job?" he demanded, his hand clenched in a fist as his nails dug into his skin.

"That's a rather crude way of saying it, but yes. I'm going to learn about oral pleasure," she said, turning to look back at the TV. Now came the delicate part.

"And, who, pray tell, do you think you are going to ask to help you with this project?" he snarled.

"I don't think Xander could do it. Anya would probably want to watch or join in, and I just don't really attracted that way to either of them," she said, rather proud that she sounded so mature. As if she would even consider asking Xander to let her go down on him. "Guess that leaves Giles. He's always been a good teacher."

"You are not sucking the watcher off!" he said, growling as he got to his feet. He began to pace, angry at her for having chosen such a lurid project. "When I suggested a summer project, I meant painting or maybe knitting. I did not mean oral sex!"

"Well, it's my project so there!" she said, getting to her feet. This wasn't going as planned. He was supposed to be her partner. It was the only way she could think of to get him into bed without just being a hussy and asking. Now, it looked like he wasn't even interested. "Giles should be off work by now."

"Oh no you don't," he grabbed her arm and turned her, pulling her against his body. "You forgot someone, pet. Someone who is a much better teacher than the watcher."

"Who?" she asked breathlessly, her body reacting to being so close to his.

"Me," he leaned over and claimed her lips, his plan for scaring her away from this project fleeing as she kissed him back, her warm little body moving against him. He pulled back, his blue eyes studying her face, noticing the slight gleam of triumph mixed with lust. He started to laugh, the aroma of her arousal surrounding them. "You set me up," he accused.

"Who? Me?" she asked, an innocent smile ruined by the thorough once over she gave him. She turned serious a moment and asked, "Spike, are you sure? I don't want to force you into something."

"Brat, let me teach you," he almost begged, his hand moving slowly over her face.

"Please," she said, giving him all of his attention.

"You've really never done it?" he asked, a possessive feeling going through him as he realized he could be her first at something.

"There are probably a lot of things that I've never done," she said softly, licking her lips.

"First things first," he decided, giving her a sexy smile. "After this, we can make a list and start working our way through it. How's that, luv?"

"Oh yeah," she said, watching as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. A rush of lust went over her and she soon forgot what they had even been discussing. Her body was on fire, her panties soaking and sticking to her skin. And he was still half dressed.

"You're overdressed, pet," he said, unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it down her arms. His eyes ran over her breasts and stomach and he smiled. "Beautiful."

"Really?" she blushed. "I've always thought that I was too skinny and my breasts aren't very big. And I have all these damn freckles."

"They make me hard, luv," he said, watching as her eyes widened as he leaned over and ran his tongue over one of the pale freckles. "By the end of tonight, I'll have kissed them all."

"Oh my," she swayed slightly as his fingers hooked into the waist of her shorts. He pushed them down her legs, his lips and tongue following the action. She managed to catch her breath in time to protest, "I'm supposed to be pleasing you."

"You are," he said simply, pulling back to look at her. She was gorgeous, just as he had known she would be. Her hair around her face, her skin flushed from passion, her breasts pushing against the pale silk of her bra, her panties soaked with her juices. How had he been so blind not to realize she wanted him? He stood up, his blue eyes finding hers. "Unfasten my jeans, luv."

She caught her breath at his silky demand, moving her hand towards his jeans, noticing that it was shaking slightly. This was silly. She had been with another man before. Why, then, was she acting more nervous than a virgin on her wedding night? She unfastened the jeans, moving the zipper slowly over the rather prominent bulge. She gasped as he sprung free, larger than Oz and ready for her. She pushed the jeans down, thankful when he moved to first one foot then another until they were completely off.

"See what you do to me?" he said softly, watching her look at his cock. He moaned when she ran her finger over his length, her eyes moving to his face.

"This is for me?" she asked, a feminine smile crossing her face as she kneeled in front of him. "What do I do?"

"Touch me," he said, hissing as her warm hand enclosed around him. "You can't do anything wrong, luv."

"It's warmer than I thought," she said softly, moving her hand over him. She watched as more creamy liquid gathered at the head, her tongue running over her lips as she wondered what he tasted like. "May I taste you?"

"Careful, luv," he warned. He moved from her, sitting on the sofa. He glanced at her and smiled sheepishly, "Once your lips touch me, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to stand."

"Really?" she smiled as she crawled towards him, stopping when she settled between his legs. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it behind her as she caught his heated eyes on her. Her nipples were hard, her breasts swaying as she repeated her question, "May I taste you?"

"Go easy, pet. Don't try to take too much until you're ready," he coached.

She nodded, resting her butt on her ankles as she leaned over and ran her tongue over the head of his cock. He tasted unique, she couldn't quiet describe it. Not the same as Tara, but just as good. She opened her lips and wrapped them around the head, her tongue continuing to move over it.

"Yes," he hissed, his hips arching up involuntarily towards the warm wetness. She pulled back, green eyes looking at him again. "Suck it, pet. Like a lollipop."

"Like a lollipop?" she said, a playful smile again crossing her pretty face. He had startled her when he had moved, his length entering her mouth and almost gagging her. Now, she went back towards him, following his advice. She began to move her head against him, taking a little more each time. Her tongue ran over his flesh, her hair brushing against his thighs and lower stomach as she moved. She rested her left arm on the sofa, giving her support while her right moved between his legs, fingernails scraping against his balls, fingers kneading the twin sacs as she took his cock into her mouth. She felt his fingers wrap themselves in her hair, listened to the sounds of pleasure that he was making because of her. He was moving against her mouth, helping her take more inside. She wasn't able to get all of him, not yet at least. Maybe with time she'd eventually be able to take all of it. For now, she didn't think he was objecting. She knew what was coming up. He was going to cum. She didn't know if she should pull back or drink it or if she'd even have a choice. This wasn't something she and Buffy had discussed before. It had never been mentioned in school. Did one spit or swallow?

She felt Spike began to move faster, his grip tightening in her hair as he continued to let her have the freedom to move. She heard his low cry of her name seconds before she felt him cum. She swallowed some as she pulled back, the remains shooting against her chest and dripping down her chin. She licked her lips, hooded eyes looking up to find him watching her with love in his eyes. She didn't have time to comprehend the ramifications of that emotion as he moved with vampire speed, switching them until she was on the sofa and he was between her legs. She heard her panties rip as his mouth moved over her chest, licking away the remains of his seed. She cried out as he entered her, stretching her, going deeper than anyone before. His mouth continued the assault on her breasts and chest as they moved, their actions fast and slightly rough. It excited her, the feeling of his hands on her flesh, the sound of their skin meeting. She felt sweat dripping down her face as she dug her fingernails into his back, moving up to take him even deeper.

His mouth found hers as his tongue shared the taste of his release mixed with the sweat of her skin. His hand moved between them, his thumb brushing against her clit as she tightened around his cock. He pulled away from her mouth and groaned as the tight heat enveloped him. Her hand to his hair, holding him as she demanded, "Bite me," before she moved her hand and brought his head down. He didn't object as his fangs pierced her skin a moment before she came. He entered her a couple of more times before she felt his release enter her, his mouth again finding hers as she tasted the bitter coppery taste of her blood now mixed with his juices. It was intoxicating, she realized, and she sucked on his tongue for more.

He remained inside her as she slumped against the couch. They'd have to move soon or she'd have a wicked ache in her back in the morning. She pulled away from his mouth as she sucked in much needed air. She looked down and smiled softly when she caught him watching her with a content statement. "We need to get up," she said softly.

"No," he said simply, not wanting to leave her, fearful that she'd decide this was a mistake and that he'd lose her.

"Spike, we need to move to your bedroom," she said before capturing his lips. "Please? This couch isn't the most comfortable place to sleep."

"You want to move to the bed?" he asked, smiling as she nodded.

"This is just the first lesson, after all," she reminded with a smile.

"First of many," he promised as he moved from her and carried her into his bedroom. He laid her down and joined her on the bed, his arm possessively moving around her shoulders as she laid against him.

"Guess the summer is finally looking up," she said with a laugh before looking into his eyes. "Spike?"

"Yes?"

"You know what?"

"What, luv?" he asked with a slight frown.

"I think I could love you," she said sleepily before closing her eyes and it resting against his chest.

His only answer was a smile as he tightened his hold on her, his eyes watching her face as she began to sleep.

THE END