“I want her head, Spike,” Drusilla said, lolling back against the table, her hand sliding along the shining wood.
“Her head?” he asked, stroking his fingers along her calf, down to her ornate, high heeled shoes.
“Or maybe her eyes,” Dru said dreamily, shutting her own slowly. A smile played upon her mouth and she hummed to herself.
“Her eyes, love?” Spike said, his hand tracing back up her leg. A purr escaped Dru as his fingers touched her intimately.
“To wear like earrings, so she can watch all the naughty fun we’ll have,” she said, sliding into his lap and arching up against him. “You’ll bring them to me, won’t you, Spike? The Slayer’s eyes?”
He dragged her close, burying his face in her throat. “Whatever you want, pet. Whatever you want.”