by
Lisa Y. Drexel

Willow could feel herself slipping away in a maelstrom of sensations: hot, cold, lust, want and oh Goddess, need.

Oh yes, she needed him.

And she had since Talon's hot burning hands scorched her flesh—stirred those hidden passions that she had buried so deeply into her soul. She had always been the good girl, the practical one, the mousy one—the dependable one and those few times she dared to break out of her role, she had been punished.

Either by her friends, or Talon, who wanted to suck her life-force out of her. Or even herself, when confronted with the vampire Willow, she forced herself into emotional shackles for fear that she could end up like her counterpart.

But even all those times—she had her fantasies. Fantasies of Spike and his cool fingers doing delicious things to her—possessing her—taking her.

And now, as he kissed his way down to her neck, nipping at her skin with his blunt teeth—proving his control of that demon inside of him, but knowing she knew it was there—and as his cool fingers slipped underneath her shirt and caressed her stomach, skimming her breasts as the other hand rubbed the back of her thighs, moving further up with each stroke—

She knew those that she could finally let herself go and be free.

Free to do all these things that she had only dreamed of late at night in the privacy of her own mind and heart.

His mouth stopped at hers and after a long, passionate kiss, he pulled back, resting his forehead on hers, all the while teasing a nipple and grasping a buttock. "Upstairs?" he asked her, his voice low, breathy.

Swallowing hard, she nodded.

Standing up, holding her tightly in his arms, he carried Willow to her bedroom.

By the time he kicked the door close, Willow had unbuttoned his shirt and was licking his nipples as her hands lightly caressed his hard, toned chest—marveling at the way his muscles rippled with use, yet didn't move with a heart beat.

Even though Oz was a werewolf, he still possessed a beating heart and a warm body—neither of which Spike had. And not surprising to her, the differences did nothing but inflame her senses even more.

They stopped moving and suddenly Willow was lying flat on her bed with Spike kneeling in between her legs and yanking her shirt over her head. She looked up and watched his face, eyes darkened with need and determination as he undid her bra from the front and peeled the satiny royal blue cups from her breasts.

Ignoring the burst of insecurity, she sat up and pulled his shirt off his shoulders and rubbed his shoulders, marveling in their strength and hardness.

A shiver enveloped her as his cool hands cupped her breasts as he closed the distance between them, pushing her downward. Once flat, with his chilled body covering hers, he began peppering her face with small kisses, moving slowly over to her ear.

"Beauty?" he whispered, blowing cold air into her ear.

Her eyes snapped open to meet his.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he lifted her hands and held them above her, running his hand down the length of them, causing her whole body to shudder in excitement.

Biting her bottom lip, she nodded as she lifted her hips and pressed against his hardness.

He moaned as his eyes clamped shut and his hold on her hands tightened. He pushed down, pinning her lower body onto the bed, pressing his hardness into her.

When his eyes opened, gold replaced blue, holding her captive with his glance. Her body shook with excitement, suddenly needing to feel him inside of her, amazingly more turned on by his demon's appearance than not.

Somehow understanding, he released her hands—but his eyes telling her not to move and started to skim her naked upper body with his fingers until her reached the top of her jeans. Without pausing, he undid the button and sat up as he began to pull her pants and her panties off.

Once naked, Willow watched him as he stood and kick his shoes off and then quickly divest himself of his leather pants. As he stood above her, naked, his cock hard, she heard herself sigh.

He was so beautiful—standing in the moonlight, casting a nearly silver hue around his body, that Willow felt her eyes water in amazement.

He wanted her.

A part of her would never understand how he, someone who lived over 200 years would want her—a young, inexperienced girl—as far as he was concerned—instead of someone like Druscilla or even Buffy.

But he did. And that was enough for her.

Next in the series...Things Done

Willow & Spike fic   SunnyHell Haven   Fanfic page

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©1999 Lisa Y. Drexel