Chapter 1:
Early One Morning

Early One Morning
Love and Marriage

“Then I suppose you had better come in,” she said with a coy smile. “Or I’ll never find out how the story ends this time.”

Buffy opened her eyes to the darkness of her bedroom and turned to look at the ending of her story lying beside her in her bed.  He lay turned away, and all she could see of his face was the shadow of his sharp cheekbone.   His hair was wildly spiked against the fabric of the pillow.  That’s ‘I’ve just spent half the night having incredible sex’ hair.  She smiled fondly at her sleeping lover.  I love giving him that hair.

It had only been a week since she’d remembered fighting with him against her nightmares. Since that night when she had gone to him to confess that she also remembered the feelings that had grown between them, he’d scarcely left her side for a moment. She’d had to scold him more than once for turning up at her door with his ratty blanket wrapped around him, skin beginning to smoulder from the daylight. He refused to be chastised, however, and only began to look for more creative ways to get around.

She watched him now, his chest rising and falling at widely spaced irregular intervals as some dream vision prompted him to breathe. She knew the slightest touch would probably wake him, and while the immediate consequence of that was certainly not unpleasant, it would also keep her from getting any more sleep.  So she only watched and thought to herself how good it was to have him with her in her bed as she waited to drift off again.

Half an hour or so later, Buffy’s good mood had evaporated. She pounded on her pillow in a futile attempt to make it more accommodating, then flung her head back against it with a heavy sigh, pulling the comforter back up to her shoulder. Every time she closed her eyes, it seemed, her mind endlessly replayed the upsetting events of the rehearsal dinner and offered disturbing visions of what might be yet to come at the wedding itself. She shuddered involuntarily.

A cool hand caressed the curve of her bare shoulder. “Trouble sleeping, love?”  Soft kisses left a tingling trail over her shoulder blade and along her spine, making her shiver much more pleasantly. “I know something that might help,” he said, as his hand reached to cup her breast tenderly.

“Is sex your answer to everything?” she asked, as she leaned back into his embrace. “Not that I’m complaining, you understand.”

“You misunderstand me, pet.  Sex isn't the answer, it's the question,” he murmured hotly into her ear.  “Proper answer's yes. And please.”

“Ahh...” she exhaled a bare breath.  “Then yes.  Please.” Buffy twisted around in the bed to reach for him, but Spike gently turned her back onto her side. He sent his arm snaking across her belly and down to the juncture of her thighs, and she moaned and shifted her hips just enough to offer him better access. 

She relaxed bonelessly against him as his fingertips began to circle her clit, stroking and teasing, then dipping into her to gather her moisture.   His unnecessary breaths unconsciously increased their pace to match her gasps as her arousal grew, and his cock began to press insistently against the cleft of her ass.

Buffy murmured in protest as he withdrew his fingers just short of her climax, but quieted again when he lifted her leg and draped it back across his own.  “Let me do all the work now, love,” he whispered, and inch by exquisite inch began to slip slowly into her from behind.  When he was fully sheathed in her, she met him with a welcoming squeeze of her inner muscles and it was his turn to groan.  He began to rock slowly, thrusting in gentle rhythm.  Their movements built with such slowness that Buffy thought she might have slipped back into her dream.

“I love being in your sweet quim, Slayer,” he breathed in her ear.  “You’re always so tight and wet… all for me.  I want to end every day inside you like this – and start the next one the same way.”  His hand stole back between her thighs only to meet hers, reaching to caress the base of his cock where he entered her.  The twin sensations tightened the knot of pleasure in his belly almost painfully.

The liquid heat that had pooled in her with his first touch now spread in languid waves throughout her body, down to her toes and out through her fingertips. Instead of the usual sharp rush of orgasm, Buffy felt as though she were riding an enormous wave that was only slowly cresting through her.  It swept over her gradually, leaving her limp in his grasp and totally pliant to his touch.

As he felt her clench around him, Spike gave himself over to his own climax, spilling his seed deeply inside her.  For several long moments he only clung tightly to her before finally relaxing and allowing himself to slip free – an action that drew only a weak protest as Buffy slipped easily back into dreamless sleep.

“There we are,” he murmured as he heard her breathing begin to take on the deep rhythm of slumber.  “After all, we can’t have a bridesmaid with dark circles under her eyes, can we?”  He soon joined her, holding her warmth against him and burying his face in the sweetness of her hair.

**********

Something tickled her nose and she frowned, reaching to bat it away.  Her wrist was captured in a strong but gentle hold and the feeling continued.  Her other arm was summarily taken the same way, and the tickling moved to her lips. 

Swimming up out of a deep sleep, Buffy only slowly recognized the sensation as kisses from firm, cool lips.  She opened her eyes to meet his azure ones, fringed with dark lashes that might have better suited a girl, but that – like his lush mouth – served to perfectly offset the harsh planes of his face.

“Mmm…” was all she managed in recognition.

“Good morning, my sleeping beauty.”  He smiled as he released her and sat up again on the edge of her bed.  “Your alarm was about to go off.”

And you’re a much nicer way to wake up, she decided, sitting up and drawing the comforter up under her arms to watch him as he moved to where he had set a tray on the dresser.  He wore only his black jeans, and they hung low and loose on his hips as he had left the top two buttons of his fly open.

“I made you some breakfast,” he said as he picked up the tray and turned back to her.  

Buffy couldn’t help it – the thought of him padding about her kitchen and peering into cupboards while shirtless and barefoot left her stomach fluttering.

Spike carelessly pushed aside the alarm clock and the lamp to make room to set the tray on the bedside table.  Buffy reached out and hooked her fingers into one of his belt loops to draw him closer.  Another button popped under the tension, revealing more of the line of downy hair that trailed down from his navel.  His jeans were in danger of slipping off his narrow hips entirely until he grabbed at them with one hand.  With his other hand he took her wrist, gently loosening her grip.  “No, love,” he said with a smile.  “No treats for you until you’ve polished your plate.”  He released her in order to refasten his fly, though it seemed to only slightly improve his jeans’ chances of hanging on to him.

“I’ve brought you tea and some scones with honey.  It would have been toast – I can manage making toast on my own, you know,” he said in reply to her sceptical glance. “But you were out of bread.  Let’s just say I had to call on some expert help instead.” 

Buffy’s forehead creased with uncertainty as she looked from Spike to the innocent looking bread triangles and back again.  Only Tara bakes from scratch, and I know she’s not up yet…  Visions of Spike performing arcane cooking spells in the kitchen, calling on who knew what powers, arose in her mind.  “What did you do, Spike?” she asked with an edge in her voice.

“Dug out your mum’s copy of The Joy of Cooking, pet.  Whatever did you think I meant?  Now eat up before your tea gets cold.”

She threw a pillow at him, laughing with relief.  Now that he had mentioned it, she could just make out a smudge of flour on one cheek, white on white.  “That’s too much bread,” she protested, eyeing the plate now with only the ordinary suspicion of a woman concerned about the fit of her clothes.  “I won’t fit into my dress.  It’s bad enough that I gained five pounds last month on the DoubleMeat diet.”

“Good,” Spike replied unsympathetically.  He reached to caress the outline of one breast through the bedclothes, giving her nipple a firm and friendly pinch that left her whole body yearning for his.  “You’ve gotten too skinny.  I fell in love with a woman, not a stick figure.”

“Bully,” she grumbled, but dutifully picked up a scone and took a bite.  Her eyes widened.  “They’re good,” she mumbled in surprise through the first mouthful.  After a moment’s thought, she realized that perhaps that wasn’t quite the reaction she wanted to convey, and hurriedly swallowed.  “Um, I didn’t mean…”

Spike only laughed and filched a scone for himself from the tray before climbing in beside her.  It wasn’t a cynical laugh, or haughty, or defensive – but simply the laugh of someone who was deeply happy.  She thought she might even have heard the same from herself a number of times in the past week.  As she ate and sipped her sweet, milky tea, the last bit of the ice that had encased her heart since her precipitous return from heaven last fall seemed to melt away. 

She propped herself more comfortably with her pillow against the iron headboard, content to sit and eat with Spike beside her.  He was doing the same while perusing the latest copy of the TV guide he had brought upstairs, turning down the corners of pages with shows he wanted to check out.  It looked as though more than half the pages were already folded over.  Who would have thought?  Vampires can be rendered harmless with the application of large amounts of cable television.  Still… he had better not turn into an undead couch potato. 

Having finished the last of her scones, Buffy set her plate aside and licked her fingers free of honey before giving Spike a none-too-gentle prod to his abdomen.  He lowered his magazine and peered over it, his earlier laugh now dancing in his eyes.  “Yes, my primrose?” he asked, trying to look innocent.  It didn’t work well.  “Did you want something?”

She smiled wickedly and reached for him.  “Somebody promised me a Spikey treat…”  With that, she plucked the TV guide from his fingers and tossed it back over her shoulder and onto the floor.  Leaning forward, she curled one hand about the back of his neck, while the other descended to his jeans again.  As her honeyed tongue began to explore his mouth, his buttons – suddenly under strain from within as well as without – parted with a brrriiip.  Spike clutched her to him, and their kiss metamorphosed into a series of deep, nearly bruising ones that left Buffy gasping as he stole the very breath from her mouth.

Dainty, hot fingers found the swelling erection now freed from its confinement, and curled around it possessively.  “Mine,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yes, my heart.”  He closed his eyes as she began to kiss her way down his chest.  “I always have been – it just took us both some time to realize it.”

He opened his eyes again just in time to savour the delightful sight of her kiss-swollen lips engulfing his cock.  It took all his control to keep from tangling his hands in her hair and pumping hard into her hot mouth; Buffy had more than enough strength to take anything he could dish out, but she still lacked the experience to deal with his some of his darker desires.  Not that she seemed to lack the willingness to learn…

He always seemed to wear an expression of such surprised gratitude when she went down on him, Buffy thought.  It was as though he couldn’t believe that she would actually want to do this for him.  She felt a heady thrill as he moaned her name loudly.

Buffy pulled her head back sharply, drawing a protest from him. “Shhh,” she warned.  “Not a sound out of you, mister, or this is over before it begins.  Everyone else is still sleeping.”  He jerked his head once in understanding and clutched at the bedsheets, silently willing her to continue. 

It had been easy to figure out what he liked; he didn’t exactly hide his reactions to her every touch.  So she pulled her cheeks in hard as she drew back from him and he hissed.  She decided not to punish him for this slight breach of her command, but continued to bob slowly up and down, scraping his rigid shaft gently with her teeth on random strokes.  His hands stretched and curled in the sheets like a stroked cat’s paws.

The golden bell of her hair fell forward and concealed her face from his sight.  He reached to brush at the curtain of strands impatiently.  “Buffy, love?” he pleaded in an agonized whisper.  “I can’t see.”

She lifted her head and smiled at him, using one hand to pull her hair aside across the back of her head.  “Better?” she asked, before descending hungrily on him again.

“Oh, yes…”

She let her hand travel from the base of his cock and down over his balls, which were drawn high and tight against his body in his excitement.  She tugged at them gently, then trailed her fingers back over the taut skin between his legs, rubbing firm, small circles there.  Spike’s hips arched away from the bed at this new touch, forcing him deeper into her mouth. 

“Sorry, love… sorry,” he said as she gagged and pulled back.

“It’s okay, you just startled me,” she replied gently.  “Let’s see what you make of this, then.”  Her lips closed about him once more, and her fingers caressed him, reaching back between his legs again, and further.

He came with a roar of surprise that rattled the windows.  Buffy swallowed, trying in vain to contain the sudden flood of his come that spurted into her mouth.  Some of the cool salty fluid spilled down her chin, and she wiped it away on his jeans once he had finally collapsed back onto the bed.

Propping her head up on one hand, she looked affectionately up at him.  “So… I can assume that was okay, then?”

He threw his head back against his pillow.  “Love, I can honestly tell you that you have the makings of the best little cocksucker it’s ever been my extreme pleasure to know.  ‘Was that okay?’ she asks,” he teased.  “You know perfectly well it was fucking incredible.  You look like the cat that’s stolen the cream.”

“Mmm… cream.”  She licked her lips slowly, just to watch the resulting squirm.

There was a sudden pounding on the bedroom wall and they heard Dawn’s muffled shout of outrage.  “Hey, give it a rest!  Some of us would rather learn about that stuff at school where we’re supposed to!” 

Buffy collapsed across Spike’s thighs, weak with laughter.  He stroked her cheek through her hair.

“And just where the hell did you learn that particular move, pet?”

“Been reading,” she smirked.

“Three cheers for literacy, then.”

Chapter 2: Love and Marriage