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So tired I can't see straight. My eyes keep slipping shut on their own every five seconds. Sleep sounds so good right now. Sounds almost magical. Sleep. Even hearing the word makes my mind want to shut down.
A long day of work and a long night work. Have to make ends meet. Go to bed late. Get up early. Never more than five hours sleep. Less if Spike looks at me with those eyes of his. Those eyes could make me do anything. Have made me do anything. Loved every second, every minute, every hour of it.
Made me want it again and again. No matter what anyone else thinks. I want to feel his skin against mine. So cool and soft, never mind Spike looks like he's all angles. Could spend hours touching him, stroking him, tasting him. His body pressing me into the mattress, pinning me down, holding me down...touching me, kissing me, loving me. All I want and more.
Tonight's no different. So tired, though. Hard day at work. Hard life, seems like. But not with Spike, never with Spike. It's easy with him. Easy to love him, easy to be loved. Easy to let him take care of everything. Easy and somewhat scary, but who cares.
Easy to let him pull my clothes off and herd me into the shower. Easy to lean against the slick tile and close my eyes. Easy to moan while his hands wash every inch of my body with loving care. Easy to wrap my arms loosely around his waist and lean my forehead against his shoulder. Hard to fight desire down when he dries me off. So hard that it's easy to return Spike's kisses and caresses as best I can.
End up on my back in the bed, Spike on top. Not too heavy, not too light.
Perfect fit. So pale. Skin that can never see sunlight again. Pale and beautiful. Blue eyes that pin me down easier than his body does. Eyes that speak of want and need and love and lust and possessiveness. So much of our life communicated through our eyes. Windows to the soul. To my soul, to Spike's soul.
We rarely speak of this...hugeness between us. Whatever it was that drew us together. That made me feel like I had found the other half of my soul. No need to communicate what he already knows. Words could never be enough. Actions do, and always will, speak louder than words.
Slow thrusts into me, filling me, making me his. Thrills of pleasure down my spine, fingers expertly working my nipples. Hint of teeth at my neck. Hovering, waiting for permission. Spike never takes without asking. He promised never to hurt me and he never has.
Gasped out 'yes' and razor sharp teeth slide into my skin painlessly. Wrap my legs around his waist and his hips speed up their fucking. Sweet haze of pleasure-pain, cool lips at my neck, warming with my blood.
Teeth in my neck, cock in my ass. Both fucking me. Driving me crazy, keening wails that no one but Spike has ever heard. So close to going over the edge. My fingers slide over the sweat-slick skin of his back, looking for something--anything--to hold on to.
Spike's mouth on mine, the taste of blood strong. My blood. My gift to him. My love, my trust, my everything.
So good. Filled again and again. Sharp teeth nipping at my chest as his thrusts become harder, faster, finding *that* spot every time. Hard kiss, Spike's tongue fucking me like his cock is. Rough, callused hand stroking me, pushing me over. Over the edge. Coming. Screaming into his mouth. Feeling him shoot inside me. Cool sensation that never fails to amaze me.
Soft kisses to both closed eyes. Feeling of loss as he softens and slips out of me. Blindly reaching out for Spike, eyes still closed. Pulled into his arms, kissed again and again. Words like 'love' and 'mine' and 'beautiful' after each kiss.
Falling asleep nestled against him. Safe. Protected. Loved.
Home.