Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/825562.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer
  Relationship:
      Willow_Rosenberg/Spike
  Additional Tags:
      Public_Sex, Masturbation, Oral_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-01 Words: 2111
****** Sneaking Out ******
by Morgana
Summary
     Willow isn't always content to be the good little girl
He called to her from under her window again. And even though she'd promised
herself that this time it would be different, this time she wouldn't answer,
Willow abandoned her chemistry notes, left her paper on Byron unwritten, and
climbed down the trellis to meet him anyway. Hatred might be by far the longest
pleasure, but she was willing to settle for something a little more short-term
and enjoyable.

Blue eyes met hers and if Willow hadn't know better, she would have sworn that
he was relieved she'd come, almost as though he feared one night she wouldn't.
She fought the warmth that welled up inside, reminded herself that tonight was
absolutely the very last night, and the next time he would just have to be
disappointed. He moved a little closer and for a second seemed as though he
were about to kiss her, but instead he just smiled, took her hand and led her
away from the house.

They walked along together, not looking at each other or talking, just moving
steadily down the sidewalk. Somehow it managed to be a comfortable silence,
though. Willow liked that about him, how she could just be quiet and not feel
the need to babble and fill the empty silence like she usually did. He paused
at the corner, head up, eyes alert as he scanned the street like a wolf testing
the wind for any scent of prey before he nodded and turned to her. "Park okay
with you, pet?"

"That's fine." Their cemetery trysts had stopped after they'd narrowly missed
being discovered by Buffy one night. She had said she was going to the movies
with Angel, but must've decided to do a little patrolling afterwards, and it
had almost resulted in a very dusty ending. Willow was under no illusions; she
knew that if she were ever found out, there would be yelling and threats, and
Spike would have to leave town or fight Buffy. Either way, she would be the one
who lost.

The park in question was really just a few pieces of playground equipment, a
couple of picnic benches and a postage-stamp size lawn, but it had always been
special to her. Everywhere she looked it seemed there were ghosts of the past
flitting about: the monkey bars where Xander broke his arm when they were six,
the swing set she used to dream of flying on, and the jungle gym that had been
the headquarters of the We Hate Cordelia club. Spike stopped under her favorite
oak tree and shrugged his coat off, draping it over one of the branches.

With an almost detached air, he turned and opened his arms and it was like the
earlier peace vanished in a second. Willow rushed into his embrace, hungry for
the feel of hands and lips, and his low groan told her that he'd been just as
starved as she had. "Nine days," she whispered, burying her face in his shirt,
inhaling the tobacco and cologne that mingled with something else old and
earthy and Spike.

"Nine and a half," he corrected, hands already sliding down her spine, pulling
her in as close as possible. He cupped her pretty little ass in his palms and
lifted her onto her toes, tilting her hips so he could press against her.

Willow moaned when he traced the line of her ear and then sucked the lobe into
his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gasped, "Why'd you wait so
long?"

"You said no more, remember? Didn't know if you meant it."

"I did, but still -" she broke off when he somehow managed to slide a hand
between them to stroke her breast.

"Shhh, enough talking." His hand continued down to curl around the hem of her
sweatshirt and she raised her arms so he could draw it off. She never bothered
with a bra when she came out to meet him, and his eyes darkened to navy at the
sight of her bare breasts. He reached up, one finger tracing a soft curve, and
she shuddered as her nipples drew almost painfully tight.

Spike smiled at the visible proof of her desire, teasing her with a brief flick
of his nail before retreating. He stripped her jeans off, then stood back to
admire her. She shone like a beacon, her white skin stark against the night,
her hair and eyes blazing with radiant life, and the vampire groaned, one hand
sliding down to briefly squeeze the bulge of his cock where it strained against
his jeans. Willow watched him avidly, one hand stretching out to join his, but
he batted it aside. “Do that an' it's gonna be over right quick, pet.”

“But what if I want it quick?” She touched herself instead, hands cupping her
breasts, lifting and squeezing to better display herself for him. Hungry eyes
followed her movement, his answering predatory smile making her shiver with a
delicious anticipation. He was starved for her, had gone without for far too
long, and she was deliberately baiting him, teasing him to the point of
breaking.

Spike stripped off his t-shirt, laid both it and her sweatshirt on the picnic
table, then hoisted her up to sit on the edge. “Lay back,” he told her, nudging
her legs apart as she did so. Dark blue eyes drifted over her body, tracing the
curves and swells of her flesh, until they reached the dark red curls between
her legs.

He opened her legs further, one long finger reaching out to stroke lightly over
her sex. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he purred. A sheen of moisture coated
her skin, dampening his finger as he teased her. “So hungry, too. Could stare
at you like this for days, pet.”

It was deliciously decadent, and she felt herself get wetter with every second
that he stared at her. She was stretched out before him, arranged on the table
like some pagan sacrifice on an ancient altar, an offering to a dark god that
would make her scream for his pleasure. And she could only whimper softly in
supplication, asking him wordlessly to show mercy when she knew there would be
none - just the slow sweep of his finger over her wet folds drawing her closer
and closer to a peak that he wasn't about to let her reach without a lot more
torment and begging.

Sure enough, as soon as she began to get close to coming, he pulled his hand
back and grinned at her. "Not yet, pet... got a lot more planned for ya before
we're through."

"Like what?" Willow arched her back, hoping he'd take the hint, but he just
smirked and shook his head at her.

"Not tellin'," he chided her. "More fun to show anyway, innit?" She nodded,
watching avidly as he unbuckled his belt, long fingers fanning out against
black denim as he moved on to start unbuttoning his fly. When the last button
slid free, Spike drew his cock out, chuckling as Willow's gaze followed every
movement. He wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked slowly.

She'd never seen a guy do... that before, and she couldn't believe how hot it
was, watching Spike touch himself in front of her. It was illicit and dirty,
and there was no way she could ever admit it to anybody, but she couldn't help
squirming when she saw the way the tip was getting wet, remembering how it felt
when it had been her hand doing that for him. "Spike," she moaned, squirming
again at the heated gaze that roved over her naked body like a physical caress.

He was starting to pant, his hand moving faster over his shaft as his
excitement began to mount. "Like that, do you, witch? Like knowing that you get
me so hot an' bothered that I gotta jack off or else come in my pants like a
bloody schoolboy?"

"Yeah," she breathed, one hand stealing down to join him. But before she could
actually make contact, he growled a low warning that stopped her instantly.

"Uh-uh, you don't get to touch yet. You get to watch, that's all."

"Spiiiike," Willow whined, feeling her skin heat with his words. She raised her
hips in open invitation, her eyes flicking back and forth between his face and
his cock, loving the stark pleasure on the one and the erotic invitation of the
other.

"Ohhh fuck, yeah, that's it. Gonna come, pet, gonna - unh! Fuck! Yeah!" The
vampire grunted out his pleasure as his hips jerked forward and he spilled over
her, painting her slick flesh with his essence.

She was still dazed with pleasure when he dropped to his knees and shoved his
hands under her rear, ligting her up to his mouth. There was nothing tentative
or gentle about his assault, and she moaned loudly as his tongue lashed over
her, cleaning her with rough, raspy strokes, almost like she imagined it would
be to be held down and licked by a giant cat. Willow twisted under the sweet
pressure of his mouth, hands flying up to her breasts, fingers working over her
nipples, teasing them into peaks that she pinched in imitation of Spike's own
techniques.

The pleasure was building, forming into a heated knot low in her stomach that
left her gasping and crying out, ragged moans of, "Please, Spike, please,
please, God, please, I need... ohhh, I need, please!"

Any thoughts about someone coming by and seeing them vanished when he closed
his lips around her clit and sucked hard. She screamed and clamped her legs
around his ears, rising partially off the table with the force of the orgasm
that swept through her. Spike swirled his tongue around her clit and sucked
again, draw it out until she thought she was going to go insane from the
dizzying rush.

When he finally released her, she fell limply back against the picnic table,
gasping for air. Spike got to his feet, smirking like the proverbial cat that
had just finished a whole quart full of cream. Willow gave him a weak smile,
watching him tuck his half-hard dick back into his jeans, well aware that only
his promise to wait until she was ready was keeping him from nailing her right
into the table. She also knew she was getting closer and closer to 'ready' with
every single time they did this.

For several minutes, Willow drifted on a wave of lazy satisfaction, only hazily
aware of the slow sweep of Spike's hand over her breasts and stomach, easing
her back down from the heights of her climax. The cool night air prickled her
sweat-soaked skin, but as soon as she began to really notice the discomfort,
Spike was there to help redress her, pulling her sweatpants up and sitting her
up to guide her arms back into her sweatshirt. When he was finished, she laid
her head down on his shoulder, enjoying the way he wrapped his arms around her
and nuzzled her hair, making a soft sound that could almost be called a purr.

She probably could've stayed there and been quite happy for the rest of the
night, but homework was waiting, along with her mother's usual pre-bedtime
check, so eventually she kissed the base of his throat and slid down off the
table, grabbing his shirt as she stood. It was her turn to help dress him, now,
smoothing the black fabric in place with her hands, using it as an excuse to
touch him just a little bit longer.

When they couldn't postpone it any longer, Spike walked her back home, holding
her hand securely in his. He paused to press her up against the trellis for a
lingering kiss and asked, "So... tomorrow night, then, Red?"

This was her chance. She could say no, could tell him that it was really over
and they'd go their separate ways. There was no future for her here, no love or
happy ending in his arms, and they both knew it. Spike would kill her or turn
her one night, if he didn't decide to chase after Drusilla again, that was. She
opened her mouth to tell him so and say good-bye, but what came out was, "Ten
o'clock?"

He grinned and kissed her, then slipped back out into the darkness. Willow
hugged herself briefly, feeling her own mouth stretch into a wide smile as she
turned to climb back up to her room. Wherever this affair with Spike ended up,
one thing was certain: she might be headed for disaster, but she was definitely
going to enjoy the ride.
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