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You Know, You've Got A Willing Slave ...

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“Spike.”

Buffy climbed down into his crypt as he stood up.

“Slay…”

“Don’t speak.”

“…er?” he finished lamely, his voice trailing off as he took in her outfit and the tone in her voice. She was dressed up, although somehow he knew it wasn’t for him. Possibly because she was removing it already; dropping a jacket to the floor as she walked towards him.

She stopped just out of his reach as he put down the book he’d been reading. She was unbuttoning her shirt and he took a step towards her.

“Don’t move.”

He stopped, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, his eyes darting all over her as he took her in and processed what was going on.

She kept removing clothes, watching him watching her. Shirt and skirt fell to the floor and she stepped a little closer. He did what he was told and just watched. She bent to the side to unzip her boots, tossing them behind her and stood there in front of him in her underwear. Suddenly feeling overdressed, he brought his hands up to undo his own shirt.

“I said, don’t move,” she said, in a tone of voice that left no room for argument. She reached up and started to slowly undo it herself, then seemed to lose patience and ripped it off him in one go, buttons scattering to the floor. Reaching for his belt she made quick work of his jeans as well, pushing them down his legs. She ran her eyes and her hands over his body; over his chest, down his back, his butt, round his hips, over his hardening cock; quick fingers touching him everywhere and all he could do was gasp.

Her hands left him and he followed them with his eyes as she unhooked her bra and stepped out of her knickers, eyes on his the whole time. Running her hands down his chest, she dug her fingernails in hard enough to leave eight red lines behind her. He opened his mouth to speak; he wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, every part of her. He wanted to tell her she could do whatever she wanted with him; cut me if you want, he thought. He wanted to tell her he was hers completely, every part of him. But he looked into her eyes and saw that she knew. So he closed his mouth again and she brough her fingers across his lips, “There you go,” she observed, “Not so difficult afterall.” She brought the fingers of her other hand around his cock, now fully hard. He understood the implication; do as I say and you get to come. Her fingers brushed his lips again. Well, he would try, he thought.

The abruptly she took both her hands away. “On your knees,” she said and he sank straight to the floor. She moved a little closer, legs a little further apart, but he waited, looking up at her. He watched her looking down at him, noticed her breathing getting faster, deeper. He wanted to speak again, say something witty, but he kept his mouth shut, his expression neutral; just looked up at her and waited.

Finally she spoke, “You can move; I want your tongue inside me and your hands holding me still.” He compiled eagerly and she gave a long, low moan. He pushing his tongue inside her, feeling her muscles and then moved to her clit, long slow strokes finding a rhythm as his hands on her butt held her still and close to him.

She moaned and he felt her legs almost give way under her. She stepped back away from him. “On the bed,” she said pointing and he did as he was told, kicking his jeans from around his ankles on the way to lie on his back. She stood and watched him for a moment, long enough to prompt him to bend the rules and raise an eyebrow at her in an unspoken question.

“Just thinking about tying you up.”

He cocked his head at her and slide his hands and feet slowly over the sheets to the corners of the bed, spreadeagled and inviting her to tied him down if she wanted.

“Nice, but I think I want to make use of your hands.” She joined him on the bed, straddling him, hovering over his eager cock. “Don’t move unless I tell you,” she said and leant forward to almost kiss him. She looked into his eyes, her lips a breath away from his, watching his reaction as if to assure herself that he would do what he was told.

He looked up at her but didn’t move. It felt like a test and he guess he passed as she kissed him then; both hard and soft at once. He pushed his hands into the bed either side of him as he kissed back, his whole body straining towards her. She put her hands on his shoulders and held him still as she drew her head slowly back, ending the kiss and teasing him again; just out of reach.

She moved back to straddle him, hovering over him; skin almost touching skin. “I want your fingers on my clit,” she said, and as he reached for her she lowered herself onto his waiting cock and he nearly forget that instruction to stay quiet.

She moved for a while and then stopped still, pushing herself down onto him and him into the bed, as his fingers stroked her clit and he tried to keep his hips still, working against the urge to push up against her. She closed her eyes and leant her head back, arching her back and leaning her hands on his thighs behind her, the sounds coming from her throat merging into one long moan.

She reached a hand further down, around his thigh and between his legs to his balls. He gasped and bit his lip so hard he drew blood. He forgot his hand in the process and her moan of pleasure turned to one of annoyance at the loss of sensation. He watched her, waiting just the barest of moments before stroking her again and grinned as she came, her hips rocking as her muscles clenched around him and her eyes rolled back under their eyelids.

He decided he’d had enough of staying still and quiet. He thrust his hips up into her orgasm pulling her hips down towards him, then moving a hand up her back to pull her down towards him. “Kiss me,” he said between moans and she did; her lips over his until he came, pulling her close to him, feeling every part of her.

As their breathing returned to normal, she lay alongside him; one leg across his, her head on his chest. “I like your games, Slayer. Tie me up next time if you like.”

She raised her head to look him in the eye. “Maybe I will and maybe I won’t. What you like has nothing to do with it. Understand?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, “I understand. I told you before; I’m yours whatever, willing whatever. You know that.”

“Shut up,” she replied, though not unkindly.

He nodded, a lascivious grin on his face and she leant forward to kiss it away.