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In Heat

In Heat
By NautiBitz
"Night Sweat"

Info and Author's Notes: See introduction.

Chapter summary: Buffy doesn't like to be kept waiting.

"Where the hell are you?" Buffy grumbled to the vacant spot beside her head. Normally, Spike crept into her room some fifteen seconds after her sister's first audible snore.

The snore that happened... she checked her bedside clock and shook it, as if that would force it to tell a different, earlier time, HOUR ago?

"If he's watching some stupid movie..." Buffy sat up in bed and grabbed her pajama top. If he wasn't coming up, she was going down.

Definitely going down, she thought, a warm sensation enveloping her. She loved that helpless look on his face when she...

Anyway, she was mad at him.

Not bothering to look for any underwear, she tiptoed out the door and made her way downstairs to the couch he'd made his home.

There he lay, bathed in the television's glow. Shirtless, hugging the remote control, out cold. Literally. Vampire and all.

She smiled to herself. It had been a rough night. Lots of demon-hunting, no demons -- many vampires. And a very close call.

Happening upon a lair in an abandoned monastery by the highway, they'd shrugged, thinking, what the hell? After busting in, however, it was apparent that there were a few more than they'd bargained for.

At once, a kind of telepathy took over, surging between them as they downed one after the other. Buffy was thrilled, and more than a little turned on.

They'd fucked right afterward, there on the floor, Buffy's shoulders scraping against dusty vampire remains.

She soon discovered, however, that her extrasensory tinglies weren't working overtime just for her lover -- one last vamp had been hiding in the rafters and took this unguarded moment as an opportunity to strike.

Buffy saved Spike just in time, flinging him over her head as a stake narrowly missed his back. Okay, so she threw him neck-first into a stone statue, but at least he was alive. By the time the coast was clear, he was too unsexily injured and she was too freaked out to get back in the mood.

Point is, he owed her an orgasm.

She pulled the remote out of his grasp and whispered, "Spike?"


It always sort of creeped her a little, that he looked so dead when he was asleep. No breathing. Not even a heartbeat. Just... pretty much dead.

This was unacceptable. She wanted him awake and pretending like he was alive again.

Just in case Dawn decided to venture downstairs mid-fun, Buffy clicked off the TV. The room went dark.

She dropped the remote, straddled his hips and nipped on his neck. "Spike?"

Trailing down his chest, circling her tongue around one nipple while squeezing the other with her fingertips, she felt him harden beneath her and make a tiny sound. This was an improvement.

She unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans open, then wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock. It jumped and pulsed in her mouth as she relaxed her throat and descended. She sucked hard as she rolled back up.

A hand moved into her hair. "Dru..."

Dru?! Buffy whipped her head up and let his cock flop onto his belly with a thwack.

Spike was smiling down at her and chuckling, one arm behind his head.

She narrowed her eyes and sprung back on top of him. "Funny."

"I thought so."

"Just for that, no blowjob." She held his cock tightly, poising herself over it.

"Pity," he said, eyes fixed on what she was about to do. He lifted her pajama top to get a better view.

Buffy took him into her, reveling in the little shivers that ran up her spine and lingered at her neck.

His eyes glazed over and he gripped her waist as she pumped up and down, quickening the pace, her breathing heavy and rhythmic.

It was one of his favorite sounds, that breathing, second only to the big orgasmic scream. He snuck his hands under her pajama top to her soft, bouncing breasts. Taken by the sound and sight and feel of her, he choked, "Buffy!"

Head falling back, she moaned, "Mmm... Angel!"

Spike froze, and pushed her off of him, then shot up to kneel over her. "What the hell was--?"

She giggled.

"Oh, you're a hoot." Roughly spinning her around, his voice dropped to a sinister snarl. "Too bad Angel can't do this." He drove into her fiercely, knocking the wind out of her. "Or this." He ripped her pajama top and sunk sharp fangs into her shoulder.

Buffy cried out in surprise ...and pain.

He cupped a hand over her mouth and proceeded to drink and fuck her convulsively, bruising her inside and out. Snarling all the while.

Note to self, Buffy thought dimly. Don't bring up Angel ever again.

She could stop him. She should stop him... but she'd never encountered his demon in such force before, and this crazed possessiveness was kind of turning her on.

Or maybe I should bring him up more often...

She started to sweat and feel a little dizzy then, and it was suddenly obvious that this could take a very wrong turn.

"Spi-ike," she managed to sputter through his fingers.

Spike foggily realized what he was doing. He was drinking way too much and fucking her way too hard, and this time she wasn't under any demon mojo.

His fangs immediately receded, and he licked and kissed her wound.

Buffy couldn't help but be impressed at how quickly he snapped himself out of it. And he says he has no soul.

He hooked his chin over her shoulder. "Sorry, love. It's just..."

"I know, baby." She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and petted him, adding, "There is a way you can make it up to me, though."

He pulled her up. "Is there?"

"Uh-huh." She turned to face him, wiping the blood from her shoulder and smearing it on his mouth.

He paused for a second, then licked it off. "And that is...?"

She unceremoniously shoved his head down until his nose touched her soft curls.

He laughed and dipped his tongue in, making her spasm and clamp her thighs around his ears.

Spike loved the taste of her: lemon and peach. And the scent... He took a deep inhale, and was instantly hard again.

He peeked upwards as he began to lash at her mercilessly. Head whipping back and forth on the couch pillow, mouth open in a silent wail. Magnificent.

Spike held her down and tightened his lips around her clit, sucking gently. Her body shook as she let slip a strangled cry.

He made a slight adjustment in his mind. That was his second favorite sound.

As her legs tremored in aftershock, Spike zealously consumed her remaining juices.

In time with his lapping, she groaned, "How... how... how did you get so good at this?"

He looked up with a grin, mouth shiny. "Years of practice."

"I don't wanna know about your practice!" she chided with a light slap to his head.

He folded his arms over her taut belly and rested his chin there. "I love it when you're jealous."

"Well, I don't love it when you are."

"Sure you do." He bent down and enunciated between licks, "That's... why... you're so... wet."

"Shhh...!" She yanked him up by his ear and pulled his face to hers, whispering defiantly, "Am not. Was wet before. All that waiting..."

He chuckled. "Maybe so, but I can feel it, Slayer -- when you get extra tingly. Knowin' how angry I was... roughing you up..." He gazed at her glistening mouth.

"Don't like it rough," she pouted.

"Do so. Pouty," he teased, and tugged at her lip with his teeth.

She pushed his chest upwards, her eyes gleaming. "So?"


"So get with the roughing up already." He still needed to come, after all.

"Nah," he said. "I'm thinkin' sweet and tender."

She smiled. "Really."

"Yeah." He pressed himself against her and murmured, "I can do tender too, you know."

"You. Tender." She snorted in disbelief.

He didn't say another word. Just brushed her hair back and kissed her, softly, sweetly. Gazing into her eyes, he rested the tip of his length at her opening, slowly rotating his hips and easing into her, inch by painstaking inch.

Buffy reached down and cupped his ass, attempting to push him in. Spike shooed her hand away. "Let it happen."

It took several more steady, leisurely strokes before he was buried to the hilt.

Arching and moaning into him, she admitted she was wrong. He definitely knew tender.

The sight of his muscled chest enveloping her, the feel of his mouth so close to hers... This wasn't bad. Not at all.

As he neared his climax, one image replayed in Spike's mind: Buffy touches shoulder, brings blood to his lips. Doesn't give it a second thought. Doesn't realize what it means.

He bit back a growl as he spilled his seed into her.

She caressed his face as he came down.

Spike looked into her eyes. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but everything was different now that they were together. He knew she'd feel pressured if he said it. And he didn't want to hear her reaction. No, it was better to leave it unsaid.

"Like tender," Buffy said, nodding. "Tender good."

He kissed her soundly. "Good. Now can I spank you?"

"You're evil."

"So I've been told." He growled as he caught her lips again.

After more langorous kisses, she stopped him with a regretful sigh. "I'd better go back to bed."

Spike kissed her eyelids. "Don't go."

"Oh, sure. 'Dawn, it's not what you think. Spike just got very tired and fell asleep inside of me.'"

"Right," he said, reluctantly allowing her to sit up.

"And by the way? You owe me new jammies."


"Pajamas?" She tugged on her ripped top.

"Why? You never wear 'em."

She rolled her eyes as she got up. "Evil."

"You love it," he said, caressing her bare bottom.

She bent down to kiss him. "Goodnight, Spike."

He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

She swatted his hands away and wagged a finger at him. "Don't start, you..." Her eyes darted to something behind him. "Oh my god, I can't believe you!" She pushed past him and adjusted the curtain that had been opened just a sliver. "Are you trying to get fried? You really need to be more careful."

He tried not to swell with adoration -- really he did.

Luckily, she didn't notice. "Sheesh," she said, absentmindedly pressing her lips against his forehead. "Sleep tight, okay?"

It was a little hard for him to speak, but he managed, "Yeah. You too."

Spike let her hand go and watched her graceful climb up the staircase.

When he could move again, he laid back and stretched his legs on the couch.

Well... she'd done it. She'd come down to find him.

It was his little experiment for the night: He wouldn't go to her. He'd wait. See if she wanted him as much as he always wanted her, especially without those ridiculous Zuxugna demons lumbering about.

Not only had she passed his little test, but she'd also shown him that their relationship wasn't all about sex. In fact, he could swear she'd just treated him like... a boyfriend?

Spike folded his arms behind his head and beamed. "Well, I'll be damned."

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Title illustration by Mike Segawa
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