Question Answered

"Spike, would you ever sleep with me?" I ask, point-blank, as I sift through his CD collection. He's got some cool stuff.

His startled blinks are amusing. Am I the only one who can make him do that? "What?" he chokes out around a lung full of smoke. He really should stop smoking those things. They're really gross.

I tilt my head and blink back at him. He heard me. I am not repeating myself.

"How old are you again?" he asks. Trying to change the subject? Or is this a lead-in to an answer? Maybe I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. It has been a while since he's seen me.

"Eighteen."

"Uh huh." He puts the cigarette to his lips again. Please get rid of that thing and put those lips to good use, you stupid vampire. "Why're you askin' me this?"

Now I know he's an idiot. Why else would an eighteen year-old be asking a vampire if he would ever consider sleeping with her? "Just curious." I shrug. I'll get him to tell me. Ooh, he's got that CD? Just wait 'til I tell Xander. He'll have ammo on Spike for weeks. Maybe months.

I look up and he's frowning at me. What? "What are you gettin' at here, Nibblet?" He stalks toward me. He looks angry. It's sexy. He stubs out his cigarette as he passes the concrete bier, then knocks the CDs out of my hands before pinning me between his body and the wall.

He's right there. Right in front of me. Solid as the wall behind me. I can feel his chest rise and fall as he imitates breathing - I don't know why; guess it's just for effect. Can't say it's not working. I can feel the blood pulsing through my body, my heart pounding in my chest, my knees weaken. God, I hope this works.

I blink and look up, into his face. His blue eyes gazing down at me. I'm sure he can see down my blouse - at least, I hope he can. It's why I wore it. He's still mimicking breathing heavily - it's quite sexy - and he presses himself harder against me, pinning me tighter to the wall. His hips are pressing against mine - or close enough - and he is so hard. Bet he never thought Slayer's little sis' would turn him on like that.

"Is that what you want?" he asks in a low, deep, whisper, his mouth on my ear.

I take a deep breath. "Yes," I moan and arch my back so my breasts press against his chest.

"If we start this," he whispers, then drags his tongue over my ear. "If we start this, there's no turning back." I nod. "I mean it, 'Bit." He grabs my shoulders hard, not painfully so, but restricting. "Decide now, all the way, or leave." His lips are still moving on my ear, but he's not saying anything now.

"Spike, please," and my voice sounds so foreign to me, like I'm begging. I don't think I'm begging. I don't want to be begging.

He lowers his mouth to my neck, flicking his tongue out to taste the layer of sweat forming there - and all over my body. His hands slide down my arms, then back up over my shoulders, then back down and across the front - just brushing over my breasts - to unbutton my blouse. He seems pleasantly surprised to find a lack of undergarments - though, how he missed that if he was looking down my shirt, I don't know. A slight push of his fingers and he sends the soft cotton garment off my shoulders, to pool at my wrists.

My legs are trembling and I’m not sure I'll be able to stand much longer. He nips my neck with his teeth and I make a strange squeaking noise that makes him chuckle against my skin and nip again. God, I'm going to die right now from the pleasure and he's hardly touched me. "Spike," I manage through my dry throat.

He says nothing, but lifts me off the ground and pins me against the wall again. His mouth is even with my breasts and he leans in and wraps his lips around one nipple. Oh dear God, if I could make words. I feel him pass his tongue across my nipple and I latch my legs around his hips to keep myself from falling - not that there really was much danger of that with him holding me up, but it made me feel more secure. He pulls away and I whimper. I don't want him to stop. Not yet. He trails his tongue over my skin to my other breast and repeats his actions there. I lock my hands around his neck and lean my head back against the wall.

He is spending too much time above my waist. I know he's got to be about ready to explode. "Spike," I say, my voice finally working again.

He still doesn't say anything, just looks up at me with his left eyebrow quirked up higher than the right one. I'll have to get him to teach me that some day.

"Do it. Now. Please." I'm nearly begging again.

"What? This?" he asks and I feel his long fingers sliding into me.

Holy shit! How did he get his hand down there? When did he get his hand down there? Beneath my skirt? And my voice stops working again. I can only breathe. I sigh and close my eyes, focusing on the long strokes of his fingers inside me. Strong fingers. Gentle fingers.

"What about this?" he asks and moves his thumb, sending bolts of pleasure through my body. I don't know exactly what he did, I mean, I know he's touching me, but he's doing something else that I can't quite describe and it feels wonderful.

"Spike," I moan and I can hear my voice is breathy.

He leans in and licks my neck. "Yes, love?" he growls against my throat.

I can't speak again, only pant. I claw at his back and shoulders as best I can with my arms restrained as they are in my shirt. I want him inside me - and I don't mean his fingers, though they are very nice.

He chuckles against my throat. "All in time, Nibblet." Lips, teeth, tongue and, oh God, fangs. Shit. He vamped out on me. The adrenaline rush is enough to make me come on his hand. Hell, I didn't even have to do anything. "That's m'girl," he purrs, still in vamp face, and removes his hand.

I whimper, again and I know he knows why. I know that evil smirk on his face too well. He can't stop now. If I just wanted to be fingered, hell, I could have done that myself. I keep my legs wrapped around his waist and my hands on his neck. I kiss him, hard, my tongue pushing out to trace his teeth, his mouth, carefully around the extended canines. God, I want him. Can't he see that?

"I want you," I whisper against his mouth.

His laugh is a low rumbling sound, deep in his throat. "Yes, I am aware of that, love. Thing is, I'm not sure you want me enough."

He's insane, right? "What?" I snap, my voice still breathy. How could I not want him enough? What is he talking about?

"Prove it. Prove that you want me."

I sigh. This was going so well. "What do you want me to do?" I ask, pleading. It wasn't supposed to be this hard. He hasn't been with anyone for well over a year. He wants us to think he's okay, but I know better. Buffy died, we moved on, but it's still hard and I know he's feeling it just like everyone else. Stop being my big brother, Spike.

"Nothing." He kisses my forehead, vampire visage gone now. Then he trails his tongue down my neck again and it's all I can do to not try to throw him to the ground and ride him hard. His hands move softly, teasingly across my skin, brushing over my breasts and hips. He has the hands of a god - strong, but gentle. He leans in close and whispers in my ear, "Ready, love?"

I can only pant and nod. What is it about him that sucks the voice from my throat, but doesn't shut up the voice in my head?

He nips at the skin on my neck and I feel him shift beneath me, moving my legs higher up his hips. What is he doing? Oh, right, pants. Movement again and he pushes himself into me, gently. He moves slowly, at first, it doesn't hurt. The stone wall scraping against my back is a little rough, but manageable. He's so strong, he barely has to hold on to me. But, he grabs my hips and lifts me, then lowers me. What is he doing now? Does he want me to move? Hell, it's all I can do just to hold onto him.

"Nibblet, little help here," he says. Uh sure.

I try to move against him like he had been doing by moving me, but it's hard. I'm not used to being pinned against a wall. And my arms aren't strong enough to push against him and lift myself up - it's very difficult. He doesn't seem to mind though; he plants his hands on the wall on either side of me and starts moving his hips faster, shoving me into the wall - hard.

The waistband of his jeans is tickling the backs of my thighs as he pushes into me. And thank God for button-fly, because… ow. I close my eyes and concentrate - on moving with him, on the sensations of him - all of him - inside me, against me. I want to taste his skin, but his movements make that difficult. Up and down against the wall and it's almost all I can do not to crack my head against the stone. And, if I lean forward, his shoulder is a precarious place to locate my head, with all the thrusting and pushing. So, I just lean my head against his and hold him to me, my fingers in his hair, and breathe. I get a small taste when I snake my tongue out to lick at his ear - just Spike. He doesn't sweat so there's no salty taste, but he doesn't taste human either. It's something different - like, just skin, but with the slightest hint of those menthol cigarettes he's always smoking. Think I'll just breathe.

His mouth is working on my neck, long and slow strokes of his tongue, light and gentle nips of his teeth, disrupting my thought process. And my subconscious has one hell of a vocabulary, considering how much else I have to focus on just now. There's a lot to pay attention to. I was trying to move with him, like he had asked, and I thought I was doing a good job, then he licked my neck. Shivers down my spine like you wouldn't believe. He doesn't seem to notice, just keeps moving, like if he stops the world will end or something. Maybe it will.

The shivers subside and I can focus on moving again. He's so strong, so solid and he feels so good inside me. He knows what he's doing. Not like that over-zealous jock who was my first. I never told Spike about that - odd, considering I tell him damn near everything else.

I shift my head a little, tossing my hair over my shoulder; I want to kiss him, but there's such an intense look on his face, I almost don't want to interrupt. What's on his mind? Is he thinking of someone else or just concentrating really hard? I manage to keep moving with him and lean in to trace my tongue over his lips, then kiss him. He must react on instinct, because he kisses back, complete with tongue, without stopping his hip motions. He really is amazing.

I break from the kiss, only because I need to breathe, and see his face is still screwed in concentration or passion or something. "Spike," I pant in his ear, but he doesn't hear me, he just keeps moving.

Then he puts his hands on my waist and moves away from the wall. He lowers us to the floor - never missing a beat - and buries his face in my neck - licking, kissing and nipping. I can move with him easier now. He seems to appreciate that, because he grabs my hips and pulls me closer - if that's possible. Pushing into me, his hips hitting mine. His body is heavy on mine, but it's so sensual, I can feel all his muscles moving. A slight shift and I can feel the rough denim of his jeans against my thighs. I want to feel his skin against mine, but I kind of like the fact that we're still clothed - partially anyway. Like it makes it more real - rough fabric on my smooth skin; my skirt bunched between us; even my shirt, still slightly binding my arms - because it didn't fall when we moved. I don't want this to end.

I sift my fingers through his hair and hear a low moan escape my lips when he rubs his thumb in just the right way over my clit. "Oh God," I manage. Only a hundred year-old vampire would know exactly how to do that. Jolts of electricity or pleasure or something so powerful that my breath catches in my throat. My legs tighten around his waist and I hear him groan against my neck. He does it again - his thumb on my clit - and that's all it takes - the bolts sear through my body one more time; it's amazing - and I come again, only this time, so does he. It's powerful and exhilarating and he's still moving, just a little. He exhales a heavy sigh against my neck, then pulls up and kisses me. I kiss him back. I love kissing him. I hold him to me for a long time; I can breathe through my nose to make it last. Tongues and teeth and lips meeting in a passionate dance. I want him to just kiss me.

My hands are still in his hair, my legs, still around his waist. I'm starting to like the feel of his jeans against my skin. It's rough, but it's real. I don't think I could let him go if I wanted to.

He pulls away and props himself on his forearms, looking down at me. "Yes."

"Huh?" Terribly intelligent response, I know, but I had no idea what he was talking about.

"The answer to your question."

"Question?" What question? I hadn't asked him anything. I want to ask him to do it again though - that was amazing.

He blinks and smiles - just a little smile. "If I would ever sleep with you. Answer's yes."

"Oh. Glad we cleared that up then."

End