maryperk73703 | Spike and Buffy's Wickedness

Written for nekkid spike LJ. Spike/Buffy/Oz fic

The voyeur watches their Wickedness

Spike and Buffy’s Wickedness

“Any idea how close we are?” Buffy asked. She peered out the windshield into the darkness. The headlights barely pierced the snowstorm swirling outside. Not even her keen Slayer skills let her eyesight pierce the driving snow. She hoped her companion had better luck than her.

“We should be to the cabin soon, luv,” Spike replied. He kept his eyes on the road. “Bloody stupid weatherman. He didn’t say anything about snow.”

Buffy laughed. “That was the Sunnydale weatherman, Spike. We’re in Nevada now.”

“Sign coming up.”

Buffy squinted. “Oak Valley. Five miles.”

Spike slowed the car down to a crawl. “Directions said the turn is about a hundred feet past the sign. Keep an eye out.”

“My side or yours?”

“Yours.”

Within minutes Buffy let out a sigh of relief. “There it is. I hope we can make it up the driveway. The snow looks kinda deep.”

Spike reached out to pat the Desoto’s dashboard. “She hasn’t let me down yet.” He turned onto the side road. The snow was a little deeper, but it was still manageable.

“Except for the heater,” Buffy muttered. She rubbed her gloved hands together.

The two companions drove slowly until they found themselves outside a rustic cabin. Buffy could barely make out the porch through the swirling snow and the dark. Spike parked the car to the side of the cabin. When Buffy stepped out of her door she let out a hiss. The cold wind tore right through her layers of clothing, chilling her to the bone.

“Get inside, pet,” Spike yelled above the wind. “I’ll get the bags.”

Buffy nodded. She stumbled to the porch where she quickly discovered that there had to be some kind of warming spell on the entire cabin. “Peachy keen,” she murmured. She couldn’t wait to see what the place looked like during the daylight. Maybe Spike and she could eat breakfast from the safety of the shaded porch.

Spike tromped onto the porch with their luggage in hand. “Damn that wind has a sharp edge. I hope he’s okay out there.”

“I’m sure he will be.” Buffy laid a hand on Spike’s arm. “Let’s get inside and warm up the rest of the way. When we get back to Sunnydale the first thing you’re doing is getting the car heater fixed.”

“Yes, dear,” Spike said with a smirk while he set aside the luggage to unlock the door. “Whatever you say, dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The next morning, Buffy stepped outside onto the porch wearing nothing except Spike’s red button up shirt. She sipped from her cup of cocoa while she studied how beautiful the snow looked under the bright sun. Buffy set the cup down, and she stretched her muscles with her arms over her head. “I’m so going to enjoy this vacation,” she murmured.

“Mornin’, luv.” Spike joined Buffy on the porch. He put his arms around her waist while he rested his chin on her shoulder. Last night had been nice. It was just the two of them for a change, but he missed their third. “You get up early and play in the snow?”

“No.” Buffy shook her head. “Why?”

“Snowman.”

Buffy focused on the blinding whiteness at the other side of the small clearing. Sure enough, there was a snowman staring at them. “How did that get there?”

Spike inhaled deeply, catching the scent of their pack alpha. With a smirk, he said, “Porch is nice and warm, luv. Why don’t we show Mr. Snowman what he’s missin’?”

“I don’t think so, Spike.”

“Now, now, Slayer,” Spike said in a cajoling voice. “I played good little vamp-slave last night. It’s your turn.”

“But … “ Buffy stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

Spike slapped Buffy’s ass. “Be a good girl and go stand at the top of the steps facing Mr. Snowman.”

Buffy scoffed. “I seriously doubt the snowman is interested.”

“Do as I say,” Spike growled. “Now unbutton your shirt.”

Buffy huffed with indignation, but she started to unbutton the shirt she was wearing. When she was done, she let the garment flutter to the floor.

“Good girl,” Spike praised. He stood behind Buffy, and he grabbed her hands. He placed them on the tall wooden posts framing the entrance to the porch. “Don’t move your hands, luv, or there will be consequences.”

Buffy grumbled under her breath, but she didn’t move. She shivered in anticipation when Spike ran his cool hands down her arms to cup her breasts. She just hoped whoever made the snowman wasn’t still out there watching them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The voyeur sniffed the air. He could smell the female’s arousal wafting through the air. She smelled so good, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her wet, warmth. The male’s arousal was harder to discern, but it was there as an underlying extra flavor to the female.

The voyeur watched the pale hands as they glided across golden skin, pinching and tugging at sensitive areas. The female’s cries of pleasure drifted over the snow, and they echoed off the trees. The male’s deep rumblings sounded off a perfect counterpart to the female’s cries while he certainly whispered lewd suggestions or instructions into her ear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“I bet Mr. Snowman can smell your wet pussy,” Spike said softly. “I know I can.” He let his hand sweep down the planes of Buffy’s taut, flat stomach, and he dragged his lips across the claim mark on her neck. Spike knew nothing got the Slayer hotter faster than playing with her bite scar.

Buffy adjusted her legs to give Spike better access to the aching juncture of her thighs. “Please,” she whined while she bucked her hips towards his hands.

Spike caught his bottom lip between his teeth before he whispered in a husky voice, “I love it when you beg, Slayer. I suspect the audience does too. Now hold still. No moving until I tell you that you can.”

Buffy trembled when Spike’s long, cool fingers dipped into the folds of her sex. It was always so hard for her to remain still when his hands danced across her flesh. The only thing lacking in the current situation was the presence of their third.

Spike slid his forefinger into the tight grip of Buffy’s pussy. With the other hand, he circled her clit. “Come for me now.”

Buffy, still sensitive from their session the night before, tensed up, let out a sharp cry of pleasure, and had an orgasm that almost made her fall to her knees. She gripped the decorative porch posts, cracking the wood with the pressure of her grip. Her cries bounced across the snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The voyeur grinned when he heard the female’s cries. He reached down to adjust his engorged erection. Its pleasure would just have to wait until he joined the man and woman on the porch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“Come on out, Wolf Boy,” Spike called out. He grinned when Oz sauntered out of the tree line. “My, my, what an interesting little voyeur we have here, Slayer. Maybe it’s his turn to have an audience.”

Buffy giggled. “Sounds good to me. I heard on the radio there’s another snowstorm coming in this evening. We’ll have to do something to keep warm.”

Oz chuckled. It was good to be back with his pack again. “And after the storm?”

“You’re not in school anymore,” Spike said while he helped Buffy put his red shirt back on.

“Hellmouth is covered by Faith and the Scoobies,” Buffy said. “Let’s do some travelling.”

“Sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Death is your gift.

Spike, Buffy, and Oz all woke up from the same dream, gasping for breath.

AN: Got sucked into Highlander fic. Anyone wanna guess what 'Death is your gift' is talking about here?