Sweet Release
by Tami Brandt

SUMMARY:  This is a stand alone scene based on Season 6, Episode 9 WRECKED and the look Spike gives Buffy in the 'Intervention' scene and after the ‘Identity Crisis’ scene. Title came from a lyric in Spike’s “Rest in Peace” song in ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING.

DISCLAIMER:  Joss Whedon, wonderful man that he is, owns the characters, I just work my fantasies around them.

A/N: I hope you like it. I tried to make it clean, but Spike had other ideas. Constructive criticism is welcome, please.

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Buffy sat on her bed lost in thought of tonight’s events. She couldn’t believe Willow would be so irresponsible as to take Dawn to a place like Rack’s. She’d known Willow for 5 years now. Willow was always the responsible one of the Scoobie gang. Buffy sighed, trying to lose the tension and stress of the night’s events. Just then she felt the bed give under a heavy weight.

Buffy was jolted out of her thoughts by the movement and swung her head around to see Spike beside her on her bed. He always showed up when she was down. Even as that annoyed her, she found comfort in his presence. He had become her rock. The rock she could support herself with or beat herself against. He was always there. Only now he gave her the same concerned look as earlier tonight when she gave Dawn into his care while she spoke to Willow.

"How are you, pet?" Spike spoke softly, reclining back on her pillows and opening himself to her.  His arms at his sides; his legs stretched out on either side of her prone position.

"Shaken. Still unable to believe Willow would be so irresponsible. She is quitting magic cold turkey tomorrow. Everything is going." Buffy sniffled a bit from the unshed tears of exhaustion.

Spike coaxed her into his embrace. Buffy eased into his arms, her head on his chest. Spike drew his knee up protectively around her, cradling her body in the well of his hips and kissed her hair, letting his cool fingers caress her arms. He felt her body shake.

"Are you cold, pet?" Spike said evenly.

"No just built up tension." Buffy sighed, her voice was shaky.

"I know a way to relax your body, love." Spike spoke with a slight huskiness to his voice.

Buffy looked up at him defiantly. "I don’t want you to --"

Spike pressed his cool fingers to her lips. "No. I wasn’t going to make love to you. Unless you want to -- that is. I was going to offer a massage."

Buffy sighed at that thought. "That sounds wonderful."

"Turn over on your stomach then, pet." Spike’s soft, masculine voice rolled over her like a soft, warm breeze.

Buffy seemed reluctant to leave his arms, but did turn over on her stomach, the pillows fluffed under her head. Her skin anticipating the touch of his strong hands.

"You have a lot of tension built up all over your back, Buffy. This may take hours to work out." Spike’s accent rained down over her like soft rose petals. She could listen to him talk endlessly.

Spike set to work, kneading the bunched muscles of her shoulders. With each muscle he unknotted, he earned a groan or a sigh or even a purr from her. It was driving him crazy. Made his cock hard to listen to her contentment at his hands. She whimpered a protest when his touch disappeared. But moaned softly when she felt a cool compress on the back of her neck, relaxing the muscles there.

"There, love, how does that feel?" Spike asked, his voice becoming ragged with the building libido.

"Wonderful." Buffy’s answered was muffled by pillows. Her body arched into his touch.

It was all Spike could do not to flip her over and claim her lips; claim her body. Alas, this was to be her night. He wanted to please her. And it seemed lately that was hard to do. It was only in sparing moments that she let herself be this way with him. Letting her guard down when they were alone. But you can bet the second one of her Scoobie’s came through that door, she’d throw him across the room and act the martyr. He prayed that didn’t happen tonight. Not yet.

In the back of her mind, a dim thought tried to take hold. Why did she let Spike touch her? Why was he the one that made her feel . . . anything? He was a soulless vampire. He couldn’t possibly feel anything real. How could he? She was the Slayer. Killer of his kind. But, oh . . . He had wonderful hands. And he knew how to touch her body. Like now.

Spike worked his palms carefully down her back rib cage feel the tension release the muscles. Her moan causing him to harden even more. He couldn’t keep this up much longer. She’d have him cumming in his pants with her little erotic moans.

Buffy turned over on her side, inviting him to lay beside her on the bed. Spike stretched out beside her, taking her in his arms. She turned her head up for his kiss. Spike groaned low in his throat, before he took her lips in a hard, passionate kiss, licking her lips open, sliding his tongue over her teeth until she moaned, letting him explore inside her mouth, tasting the sweetness that was pure Buffy.

Buffy caressed her fingertips down his muscled abs to unbutton his pants. Reaching inside to wrap her fingers around his shaft. Thrilling at the sound of Spike’s responsive moan. She ventured further to grip his cock in her small hands and stroked him faster.

Spike broke the kiss, fluttering kisses over her cheek to lick her throat. Buffy felt him push her on her back. She moaned into his shoulder when he ground his crotch against hers. He reached between them to undo her jeans, pulling them over her hips. Buffy squirmed under him, trying to help him rid her of her clothes.

When he got her jeans down half way, he went to work on ridding her of her sweater and coat. She wanted to feel his cool flesh against her overheated body. Buffy nearly ripped his shirt trying to get it off him. Clothes were flying in the air and landing all over the floor or dresser. All the while Spike kissed and licked her lips or throat, her chest, latching onto a breast, drawing on a nipple.

Buffy arched against Spike, pressing her breast into his mouth. His fingers caressing down her rib cage, fluttering over her stomach to stroke her clit. His fingers seared with the feeling of her heat as he stroked her clit to a frenzy. He pricked his blunt teeth against her nipple when she raised her hips up to grind against his fingers.

Buffy reached between them, guiding his cock into her heated depths. Spike growled when he felt her heat envelope his hard cock. He raised her thighs to wrap around his waist as he drove deep inside her. She clawed his back, straining against him as he repeatedly thrust his cock to the very core of her being in hard, slow, measured strokes.

Buffy loved the feel of his body over hers, against her, grinding into her, claiming her. They moved together in complete harmony, abandoned inhibitions for consuming passion as their passion crested new heights with each deep pounding thrust Spike delivered.

"I’m about to lose myself, Buffy . . . I can’t hold back anymore, pet." Spike warned her.

Buffy moaned that she understood. She clawed his shoulders to pull him against her. Lacing her fingers in his hair, she directed his mouth to her throat. Spike vamped as his fangs grazed the tender flesh of her throat. Buffy threw her head back in ecstasy, offering her throat to him even as she bucked her hips against his, riding his hard thrusting cock faster.

She sank her own blunt teeth into his shoulder at the same time he sank his fangs slowly into her throat. She clutched at his shoulders while he drank her essence. Just enough to make her passion heady, intensifying her orgasm when his pounding hips broke the dam and she screamed his name, quaking around him. Her muscles clamping around him and milking his shaft of all he had to give.

Spike licked the wound close. His vampiric ability with her slayer ability causing the wound to heal rapidly, but leaving a scar. His mark. He snuggled her against him and watched her sleep all night. She was even more beautiful when she was relaxed like this. He hugged her protectively, trying not to think of tomorrow when she would kick him out-- again

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