Take Your Time
RATING: PG - 13 for implied sex and some hanky panky. If you can watch soap operas or BtVS, you can certainly read this.
NOTES: For disclaimers and ramblings, please see an earlier part.
** There is a NC-17 version of the part. If you are of legal age and it is not being archived on the site where you found this, email me and I'll direct you to a site that does have it.
****The PG-13 version is dedicated to all the younger fanfic readers out there.
Part 27 (PG-13)
Three hours later, all of Willow's make-shift poker chips finally sat in a heap before Spike. She'd lost, which was no surprise even to her. What was a surprise was that for the first time, she'd won many hands and had been a pretty good opponent. The game would have lasted much longer if Spike hadn't caught some lucky breaks in the cards that he'd been dealt.
"You've been practicing, both at your cards and your lying," Spike commented through a smirk, curious as to how her skills had improved so much. "What finally brought out the bad girl in you, Red?"
Willow shrugged nonchalantly, hiding her enormous pleasure at finally being able to hold her own against the vampire at poker. "Lets just say I met up with some interesting characters during my travels, Spike. I learned a lot while I was gone. Sometimes being bad was a necessity. Sometimes it was just fun."
After scrutinizing her for a moment, as if he could see the answers in her delicate features if he just looked hard enough, Spike rose from his seat to pretend to study the dishes in the cupboard behind him. He was much more intrigued to learn exactly what she had gotten up to during her years on the continent as opposed to the pattern of the fine china, but he didn't want it to show.
"Tell me more," he said in a bored tone. "I could use a good bedtime story."
She slowly poured herself another glass of wine and took a thoughtful sip. "No. I don't want to tell that story yet, Spike. I think I could get used to being a woman of mystery."
"One silly little secret doesn't makes you a woman of mystery. I'll admit that you do have a terrific amount of bewildering and exasperating habits, love, but that hardly makes you mysterious. Just...bloody...irritating," he goaded.
Willow raised an eyebrow and took another sip of her wine. "Whatever you say, Spike." A secretive smile curved at her lips even as she held the glass to her mouth. "Whatever you say."
The perplexed vampire leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms about his chest. "Now, since obviously you are in no mood to tell me about the recent past, let's go back a bit," Spike said with a familiar smug look on his pale face. "Let's hear the truth about you and William, shall we?"
Wrinkling her brow in a display of mock confusion, Willow set down her glass and stood up to clear the cards and poker chips away.
"The truth? What's the point? It changes all the time, doesn't it?"
Spike shook his head. "Now you're just avoiding the subject, Pet. We had a deal. You lost, so now you have to pay the piper. What happened? The truth this time!"
Willow paused, looking at her shoes as she struggled with herself for the briefest of moments, but it passed so quickly that even Spike didn't notice it. She raised her head to catch his gaze. Capturing his steely blue eyes with hers of emerald, Willow slowly walked across the room to stand in front of him, invading his space like he had done to her so many times before.
"What do you really want to know, Spike?"
"Did you kiss William?"
Willow smiled enigmatically and bit her bottom lip. The small action caused Spike to lower his gaze and become mesmerized by her soft mouth.
"No," she finally said in a throaty whisper, "I didn't..."
Before Spike had a chance to gloat, Willow reached up, put a hand behind his head and pulled his mouth towards hers. She kissed the surprised vampire softly and only for a moment. It had been more years than she cared to remember since she'd last been kissed, and even though she was the instigator, the ethereal redhead was hardly prepared for the sensation of his lips against hers. Perhaps it was simply because it had been so very, very long, but it hadn't felt like this before.not with Oz, not with anybody. A spark of primal electricity passed between them that traveled down her whole body, igniting every nerve throughout her petite frame. The kiss lasted mere seconds, but Willow found it hard to breathe when they parted. She forced herself to look into Spike's eyes and saw her hunger and confusion mirrored there.
"...But I have now," she continued breathlessly after a hard swallow. "See. The truth changes constantly."
"I'm not William," Spike retorted darkly, unable to tear his eyes from her tantalizing lips once again.
"I know," Willow managed, trying very hard to remain as calm and collected as she'd been before the kiss, even though she now felt that everything they'd been through together had been building up to this moment. That was when she became aware that her hand was still on the back of his neck, holding his face close to hers. She slowly drew her hand away, running her fingers along his jaw. Her eyes recorded her hand's path over every clenched muscle in that side of his face, and as she reluctantly pulled her hand away from him, his face was drawn with it. Willow was unable to keep her fingers from beckoning him. This time there was no small talk. No excuses.
Their mouths met again in a kiss so filled with hunger and desire that it wrenched low moans from both of them. To the casual observer, if there had been one, it might have sounded as if the kiss were painful, when in truth it was the exact opposite. It was the cure for everything that had ailed them for decades. Not that the kisses were delicate or comforting in nature by any means. They were, instead, very cathartic. Nor was there anything tentative about their kisses either--no slow building from butterfly-like brushes of lip against lip, to slowly opening mouths and gently probing tongues. The kisses weren't meant for seduction. The last near-100 years had been all the seduction they needed.
Willow thought briefly that she should fight this, fight her need for the sometime-enemy, sometime-friend vampire in her arms, but decades of little physical contact with a man made the battle useless. Her inner conflict was short and soon her hands were running through his hair, lightly caressing the back of his neck, holding him to her.
On the other hand, the thought never crossed Spike's mind that he should fight this. It was what he'd wanted for a long time now, dreamed of more times than he could recall. There was no part of him that didn't want this to happen. Imitating his dreams, the vampire dug his hands firmly into her hips, bringing her slight body soundly against his and thrilling at her rapidly beating heart against his chest. There was nothing like feeling the response of a woman's body pressed against his own--the quickened pulse, the blood rushing through her veins, even her hot breath as it came out in pants to warm his own cool flesh. It was one of the best parts of feeding from the living--the side effects of fear in the victim's body. But this, this was different. This was not true fear but desire--the desire of a sensual, intelligent woman for a soulless vampire.
Her fate was sealed the moment she felt his firm body against hers, thigh-to-thigh, her soft breasts crushed against his well-defined chest, even through the multiple layers of the chaste Victorian clothing. Her entire being may have been aflame from the kisses, but wherever their bodies touched, she was positively molten.
Spike's mouth left hers only to trail wet kisses down her throat, drawing whimpers from Willow. The vampire found the exact spot where he had bitten her a lifetime ago, her last night in Galway, and he nibbled and kissed the area gently, his tongue tracing the light scar that would forever mark her as his. The thought pleased the demon in him as it sensed how close it was to gaining everything it wanted. Spike's hand moved to the back of her head, winding itself in her hair before gently pulling back to fully expose her neck to him. He recalled how she tasted that night, and the thought of once again savoring her unique essence, made him growl in spite of himself.
Willow, too, was remembering the same night. It was the last time he'd held her this way, only to betray her trust and feed from her. In the back of Willow's passion-fogged mind, she heard the growl and felt his subtle nips and scratches on her skin, but it didn't repel her. Instead, knowing that she could drive him to such baser, darker actions made her heart pound. Somehow, the thought of her power over him frightened her and gave her courage at the same time. For a change, the confusion felt good and she moaned her approval.
Her soft moans made him tear his mouth away from her slender neck long enough to look into her eyes. He still held her head by the hair and from her eyes he knew that she was remembering the same night he was.
His face was serious as he stared intently at her. "Do you trust me?"
It wasn't a matter of trust to Willow. She knew he wouldn't intentionally hurt her but could he control himself? Even as his eyes glinted yellow, the color of caution and warning, they also shone with the self-mastery she'd seen there before. She'd tested him time and time again and he'd always passed. This was just the final exam.
When she didn't answer immediately, he traced a path down the other side of her neck with his tongue, causing her to clutch at him. He returned to pierce her emerald eyes once more.
"Do you trust me, my little virgin?" he repeated.
She knew what he was asking. His words were promising so much. An end to her loneliness for at least one night, an end to the hunger that had been with her for what seemed like an eternity, but most importantly, a promise to remind her what life was supposed to be about--something they both seemed to have forgotten. Willow didn't need to think about it anymore.
She reached a hand to his jaw, her finger slowly tracing the outline of the cross-shaped scar that she had put there many years before. It was so long ago, yet sometimes seemed like just yesterday. He had destroyed her trust once before, and that was the beginning of a long rebuilding process, which now culminated with them in each other's arms.
Spike's eyes closed under her touch. The scar momentarily the center of his world as it burned beneath her fingers' exploration. When he felt her mouth then trace the same path her fingers had, gently licking and scratching in manner similar to the attention he had just given her scar, Spike's need for her grew exponentially.
"Yes," she finally whispered against the raised flesh.
Many tests were yet to come for both of them that night. The first arrived moments after Spike decided they needed a change in location.
Before she could catch a breath, Spike scooped her into his arms and headed out of the kitchen.
"Willow, where's your bedroom?" he asked deeply, while allowing his gaze to travel the entire length of her body, setting her stomach aflutter again at his frank display of desire.
Willow slowly started undoing the buttons on Spike's shirt as best she could with one shaky hand.
"Upstairs. Last door on the left," she replied, slipping her hand under his shirt to let it roam over what little of his chest she could reach.
Spike carried her briskly up the stairs. After kicking the door open, he swept through it to stop in front of the enormous fireplace. He slowly let go of her legs while still holding her upper body, causing her to languidly slide down the length of him until she was on her feet but still held tightly against the vampire.
Neither spoke or moved for a moment, each one seemingly giving the other one last chance to stop. They held each other's gaze and never faltered, until Spike finally broke the stalemate.
He lowered his mouth to her cheek, dragging her lips against its softness. "Are you cold, love? Do you want me to start a fire?" he whispered against the corner of her mouth before moving to look at her face.
She smiled wickedly, unable to help herself. "You already have, Spike," she answered huskily, using one finger to trace the line of his collarbone, as he had done to her so many times before.
Needing to take possession of her lips again, Spike's mouth descended to hers. Much to her dismay, however, it stopped a hair's width away.
"For tonight, Willow, call me William if you want," he acquiesced, before kissing her more softly and sensually than Willow had ever imagined he was capable of. His seemingly simple offer was anything but, and it created a deep ache in her soul.
Willow surprised Spike by pulling away from the toe-curling kiss. She leaned back in his arms so that he could clearly see her face. It was important that the vampire knew she was completely serious.
"No, Spike," she said firmly. "We are *not* William and Rose or pretending to be husband and wife. We are Spike and Willow."
Her words confirmed Spike's innermost hopes. She wasn't deluding herself or pretending he was something other than he was. She was kissing Spike the vampire, touching Spike the vampire, not the caricature they'd created for the benefit of others. However, before he could express his pleasure at her answer, she kissed all thoughts from his mind.
The second test was soon to follow.
"Damn!" Spike cursed softly as he stood behind her, fumbling with the first small button on the back of her dress. "Now I remember another bloody reason why I hate the 19th century! Willow," he drawled in her ear, stopping long enough to trace it with his tongue. "How much do you like this frock? Don't suppose I could just rip the bloody thing off you?"
Willow suppressed a giggle. Just the fact that he asked surprised her.
"Actually," she said huskily, tilting her head to give him full access to that side of her neck," it *is* my favorite."
Little did she know how that one teasing comment would set the mood for the rest of their love play. In response, Spike purposely took his own sweet time with the fasteners, even though the waiting was proving to be just as tortuous for him as it was for her. As further punishment, between each release of a button, Spike's hands explored her body suggestively but without any contact where she really craved it.
By the time he was on the seventh button, Willow was ready to scream in frustration. It was torture what he was doing to her. One button at a time, he was driving her mad with desire.
"Spike, please..." she gasped, "just rip the damn dress off already. I can buy another one!"
Spike chuckled softly against the nape of her neck, pleased that he was able to create such a response in the woman.
"Willow," he whispered against her sweet skin, "you have waited a century already. Certainly another hour or so won't be too difficult for you to take!"
"You are truly evil sometimes..." she whimpered. Still, a small smile crossed her lips. She'd started it, after all.
His hands moved back to the buttons, pushing her away slightly from his body, yet again. "Yes, and don't you ever forget it."
Many slow, wet kisses and heated caresses later when they were finally bare flesh to bare flesh, Spike asked her one more time.
"Do you still trust me, my little virgin?"
Willow didn't answer right away. She was too preoccupied with the bounty before her, unable to get enough of the taste of his skin and the sensation of it beneath her hands. It occurred to her at this point that she was bingeing...devouring Spike like he was a buffet of chocolate desserts after a long, strict diet. The idea only made her want to sample and savor everything on the menu, but she knew he was waiting for her reply.
"I trust you, Spike...." Willow affirmed before planting hungry kisses up the line of his shoulder. "With my body..." she persisted, her tongue snaking its way from his chin down his neck. "With my life." she murmured against his Adam's apple and then scraped her teeth over it, wrenching a hiss from the vampire. "With my future..." she continued as she made her way down his body, tasting and licking every contoured muscle. "And with my soul," she finished reverently.
Willow's admissions rocked Spike to the core. For a vampire to have a living woman's trust was a heady elixir, and his demon howled with delight. "Oh God...Willow..." he whispered, and he reached for her, trying to block out the demon's demands.
"Willow," he would later say, "there are a lot of things I would love to do to you that might mean sacrificing your virginity. Still, I'm sure we can come up with more than a few creative ways to give you what you need.what we both need."
Willow was teetering, by this point. He was driving her insane with need. <I can't believe after all his teasing, all that sexual innuendo, he still wants to talk about it!>
"Spike," Willow gasped between rapid breaths, "sometimes you talk too bloody much!"
He didn't give in, however, and their sensual games continued in earnest. For every whisper-soft caress he traced along her heated skin, she matched it in kind. Each casual brush against one of her sensitive areas was repeated on him. The whole time, their eyes remained focused on each other, pupils dilating in response to their growing hunger, until they were both ready to plead with the other for release. Finally, Spike ended the torment. He wanted to see her face etched with ecstasy instead of frustration. Willow was only too happy to return the favor.
As they brought each other to the pinnacle of desire with their hands, they also neared the last hurdle.the final test for the night.
Even as Willow was being swept away by waves of pleasure, she could see that he was struggling to retain mastery of himself. His control was slipping. Knowing what he needed, Willow pulled him closer to her glistening throat.
"Spike," she whispered through ragged breaths. "It's okay.I trust you.Let me.feed you, Spike.."
And with her hands, her body, and her blood, Willow made sure that Spike's pleasure echoed her own.
Slowly, Spike regained control and loosened his death grip on her. After licking soothingly at Willow's new wounds, the vampire found the courage to pull away. This was the part that he'd never dreamt about. While in his haunted dreams they must have taken pleasure in each other a thousand times, he always woke up immediately after their release. He held his breath unnecessarily as he finally moved to gaze into her eyes, only to find them closed and a look of complete fulfillment on her beautiful, flushed face.
Willow curled into his body, overwhelmed with sleepiness. She could feel him staring at her, but she couldn't force her eyes open. As she felt herself drift off to sleep, she managed to whisper three small words--"
"Thank you, Spike."