Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/44163.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer
  Relationship:
      Spike/Buffy_Summers
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-01 Words: 2194
****** Heated Thoughts ******
by Morgana
Summary
     Halloween left Spike a little hot under the collar
Spike stalked back into the warehouse, holding up a hand to cut Dalton off when
the minion looked up and started to speak. “Not. Now,” he growled. If he had to
deal with any more tedious explanations as to what was holding up the research
into Drusilla’s cure, he’d end up twisting the prat’s head off, and then he’d
have to put everything on hold while he found and turned someone even halfway
decent to take his place.
Slamming the door behind him, the blond threw himself down in the comfortable
leather chair he’d claimed for his own, still fuming over how easily he’d let
the stuck-up little Slayer chit beat him. He’d had her, dammit! She should’ve
been dead long before she popped up off that crate - he should’ve snapped her
neck and carried her cooling corpse back here for Dru to feast upon, but
instead he’d delayed, tried to draw the moment out so he could savor more of
the heady scent of her fear. How was he supposed to know it would give the
bitch time to get her strength back?
As the first hot rush of temper cooled, Spike grudgingly admitted, if only to
himself, that he should've known it would be a mistake to go after her with the
pipe. This Slayer had a way about her when it came to improvisation - she was
feisty and thought quickly on her feet, something he really wasn't used to
seeing out of her kind. Sodding Watchers usually penned the girls up, hammered
all sorts of half-truths and outright nonsense into their heads without giving
them the tricks they needed to actually survive. Probably why most of them
didn't live all that long; they tended to fight like they were in a dojo
instead of on the street, all proper form and discipline. For his part, Spike
had learned early on that the only thing that mattered about a fight was being
the one that walked away from it in the end.
But this Slayer, she was as different from the others as night from day. She
had friends, and a family that knew her as more than just a name in the Bible.
She wore indecent little skirts and bright colors, and she had one helluva
smart mouth. Spike suspected she enjoyed the dance almost as much as he did,
but she didn't exactly seem like the type to admit it. She even dressed up for
Halloween, for Chrissake, and went door to door like the rest of the snacks!
And what a costume that had been! Spike hadn't really been sure which part to
look at first - the lace-edged neckline that offered the barest glimpse of
cleavage, the tiny waist, or the long, full skirt. Angel had probably just
about lost his mind, getting a look at her in the clothing from his own time
period. He wondered if it had rustled when she moved, and just how authentic
she'd been in terms of her underthings, and cursed under his breath when he
felt himself harden at the thought of finding out.
Say what you will about the Slayer, but there was no denying that she really
was a tasty little morsel. He'd always left the little blondes to Angelus, but
there was something different about her. Maybe it was the fact that she was a
Slayer and he'd always had a fascination with them, or maybe it was the way she
seemed to glow, all sun-kissed and golden, but whatever it was, it drew him
like a magnet. Spike decided then and there that he was going to taste the
little Slayer before he killed her. After all, she deserved to die with a smile
on her face, didn't she?
It was a shame it couldn't have been tonight - he'd have loved the chance to
peel layers away and slide his hand up underneath petticoats again. He hadn't
had to really work at a seduction in years, but she'd have made him earn it,
from the first innocent kiss to the last ecstatic scream. Slowly popping the
buttons open on his jeans, Spike reached in, curling his fingers around his
aching cock, stroking it slowly as he thought about how it would've gone.
Her little friends were nowhere to be seen, and she was looking up at him,
wide-eyed and frightened, gasping for air because her corset was laced too
tightly to allow for a proper breath. Spike took a step towards her, backing
her up until her knees hit one of the crates, and then he was right there,
barely an inch of space between them. Heat radiated through the thin silk she
wore, and he could see her nipples draw tight when he leaned forward and
whispered, "Little lamb, lost in the night..."
She shivered, then licked her lips and asked, "Will you help me find my way
home?" The stilted, formal speech seemed wrong falling from her lips, but
dammit, it was his fantasy, wasn't it? Besides, if she'd been the girl she was
playing at tonight, she would've sounded like that...
Spike raised his hand, lightly stroking her cheek, offering a gentle smile
designed to soothe and entice. Angelus had taught him all about these sheltered
beauties, how they had to be wooed as soft and subtle as a sunrise before the
real fun could begin. "I'll help you out," he promised. "Course, good help
doesn't come cheap."
She frowned, obviously confused. "I don't have any money," she began, and he
laughed.
"Not askin' for money, pet." He paused for a second, then leaned forward. "Way
I figure it, kisses are a lot more precious, yeah?"
Hazel eyes widened as his meaning sank in, and Spike watched her closely to see
what she'd do. He was betting on a slap and some kind of attempt at escape,
seeing as that's what the good girl she was pretending to be would do, but
instead her gaze that drifted down to his mouth and she licked her lips. "One
kiss, and then you'll help me?"
He nodded and slid his hand into her hair, holding her still as he bent to kiss
her. There was an art to these kind of kisses, soft and sweet, light as
butterfly wings brushing over her until she sighed and melted against him. When
her hand slid up his chest to curl around the back of his neck, Spike deepened
the kiss, his tongue gliding over her parted lips before dipping inside to
tangle with hers. His hands drifted up from her waist to cup her breasts,
thumbs stroking her through the silk of her dress.
She broke away, gasping for air, and mewled when Spike squeezed her breasts.
When she brought her hands up, he let her push him away and kissed her again,
then picked her up and set her down on the crate. He nibbled on her bottom lip
as he gathered the fabric and began to push her skirt up, nudging her legs open
with his hips.
Spike groaned and stroked himself faster as his fantasy picked up speed. He
squeezed his shaft and thrust up into his fist. Thinking about the Slayer like
that, picturing her as one of the girls he'd known as a human... it was more
erotic than he'd expected, and he found himself getting pulled even deeper in.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against his chair, losing himself
in his fantasy.

The Slayer hadn't bothered with underwear, making Spike wonder if she'd had
something special planned for Angel. He didn't worry about it long, though, too
busy taking advantage of the easy access to waste his time thinking about
anybody but the girl who squirmed against him with the first careful stroke.
She was already damp, and as he slid a finger inside, he felt her get truly
wet, although outwardly she stiffened and pushed against him. "Please! You go
too far, sir!"
The outraged, prim little protest made him laugh heartily. His thumb wormed its
way through her curls to find her clit, and he rocked against it as he pulled
his finger back and thrust in again. Her teeth worried her lip as she fought to
keep from moaning, but Spike could feel her melting all around his finger.
"Shhh, luv," he crooned. "Don't need to worry. Gonna take good care of you,
yeah? Treat you right an' nobody'll ever know about it."
Huge hazel eyes met his, and for a second, he thought she might cry. "Promise?"
she whispered.
He nodded and kissed her again, lingering at one corner of her mouth, teasing
her with little flicks of his tongue that mimicked the motion of his fingers
over her sex. The light play made her relax, so he worked a second finger
inside, holding still to give her a chance to adjust before he started moving,
a little faster this time.
She groaned softly when he pressed his thumb harder against her clit, and he
grinned. "That's it, pet," he purred. "Feel that heat risin'? All warm an'
buttery, gonna feel so good when I -"
He remembered just in time who he was talking to and cut himself off before he
could say something that might make her start fighting him again. The Slayer
caught his abrupt stop and opened her mouth as though she might ask what he'd
been going to say, but Spike's thumb circled her clit and she let loose a high,
keening cry instead, shuddering as she tasted her first orgasm.
Plunging his fingers deep inside, he grunted in satisfaction as he felt her
squeeze him tight as she came. When she calmed slightly, he eased his fingers
free and leaned down to kiss her, a soft scattering of kisses that slowly grew
deeper. The rasp of his zipper sliding down echoed in the warehouse, and he
fondled her breast, plucking her nipple through the silk in an attempt to
distract her.
A low moan told him she was starting to get hot again, and Spike was determined
that this time, he was going to be inside her when she came. He reached down to
position himself, then thrust forward, hands tightening on her hips to hold her
still when she screamed and tried to squirm away.
She began to beat on his shoulders with her fists, demanding that he stop, but
he held still. Finally, he leaned down, using his weight to hold her in place
while he caught her hands and pinned them up above her head. He kissed her,
tongue delving into her mouth, and when she began to kiss him back, he started
to move, tiny little movements at first, to let her get used to it.
"W - what are you doing?" she gasped, when he finally pulled back to let her
breathe.
"Fuckin' you, pet," he whispered, smirking when she shivered. He ground against
her and she whimpered, the sound so soft and trapped that it made him almost
painfully hard. "Fuckin' you," he repeated, savoring the way the words rolled
off his tongue. "Gonna fuck you so good, make you scream for me."
She got even wetter when he rolled his hips, working himself as deep as he
could get. "It feels - ohhhh, it feels so -"
"Good?" he teased, pulling almost completely out of her, laughing when she
arched up, silently demanding his return. "Gonna feel even better before we're
done. Ruin you for anyone else, yeah?"
The chair squeaked as Spike shifted, fucking up into his hand. He could almost
see it, hear her moan as her climax began to build, practically feel her
bucking up under him. His balls were drawing tight, and he reached down to roll
them in his palm, groaning as he felt his cock throb in his fist.
He lost track of how many times the Slayer came, squirming and panting beneath
him. She was close again, he could tell from the way she was biting her lip and
pulling against his grip. Spike squeezed her breast and fucked her, hard and
fast, until, just as he'd promised, she screamed.
The high sound rang in his ears and he shifted, then plunged his fangs into her
throat. Hot Slayer blood poured into his mouth, bathing his throat in streams
of bliss. Spike shuddered and thrust into her one more time before he came, his
cock pulsing as he shot over and over again into the dying girl.
When he could move again, Spike forced his fingers away from his dick, hissing
as it twitched and released a few last spurts of come. He pulled his undeniably
dirty shirt off and clumsily cleaned himself up, then tucked his cock back into
his jeans. Promising himself that he'd make sure the fantasy became a reality,
he grabbed his cigarettes and lighter from the table by the chair. His good
mood restored by both the orgasm and thoughts of killing the Slayer, he decided
he'd hear Dalton out right after he finished his smoke. Be a shame if Dru
couldn't enjoy the Slayer's death when he was done with her, after all.
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