Part Three

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Just after the words leave her mouth, they both begin to shiver; the implication hitting them with a frightening force.

Buffy stays with her lips buried in his hair, her arms around his neck. Spike slowly brings his hands to her hips and spreads his fingers over them, grasping her firmly; afraid to let go. They stay motionless for a few moments, trying to control their breathing. Spike opens his eyes and her throat is so close to his lips that he can almost taste her pulse. He leans in and touches the hollow of her neck with the tip of his tongue. He feels her heart skip a beat.

“Spike.” She whispers, still clutching him to her. He brings his hands forward and parts the sides of her coat. He resumes his position on her hips only with one less barrier between them. Spike then wraps his arms around her and hugs her to him, splaying his hands across her back. The smooth fabric of the knit top is warm with her body heat. He moans at the feel of her soft curves pressed against his own hard flesh.

“Wanted to hold you like this for so long,” he says, burying his face in her hair. After a few moments, Buffy comes down off of the balls of her feet and looks up at him. She releases herself from his embrace, never talking her eyes out of his, and steps back to remove her coat.

“You are so beautiful.” He says reverently, tilting his head slightly; his voice earnest and deep. Buffy’s eyelids flutter at the heat in his compliment. In all her previous preludes to intimacy, she’s never felt so desired; so wanted. Spike is looking at her as if he could devour her whole. It’s empowering.

The coat drops to the floor. Buffy steps forward and reaches her hand up to his face.

“So are you.” Her voice is breathy, heavy with want. Her heart flutters in her chest like a wild bird trapped in a cage. Spike places the palm of his hand over it and dips his head to catch her at eye level.

“All this desire...for me?” His hand slides up to her throat and he lightly presses three fingers against her pulse, his thumb brushing her full lower lip. Buffy parts them, allowing him a hint of the moisture and warmth there.

“Yes.” She is really trembling now. He is suddenly transfixed by her mouth and, as if through no will of his own, he moves forward and kisses her; tentatively at first. Unwilling to press her; half-convinced that she will pull away. Instead she moves into him. Her hand slips behind his head and pulls him closer.

She opens her mouth and the first taste of her tongue sends a wave of desire through him so strong that he has to grab on to her to keep from falling to his knees. His arms engulf her and she responds in kind. They are clutching at each other, mouths fused together in a kiss that is both soft and demanding; their tongues tasting, teasing, dancing. He alternates between lapping at the moist cavern of her mouth and sucking on her full lips.

Buffy moans and Spike echoes it. They break the kiss and stare into each other, each with surprised looks on their faces. Then the surprise turns into something else. Spike takes two steps backwards and studies her for a few heartbeats before holding out his hand. She takes it without hesitation.

Their fingers entwine as he guides her to the ladder leading below. He refuses to take his wide eyes out of hers as if, should he look away, she would fade into nothingness like so many of his dreams of her. Buffy understands this need through the haze of her anxiety. She smiles for him and he visibly relaxes, backing down the ladder to the landing. When his feet touch terra firma, he reaches up and lifts her by her waist from the rungs to the floor. A small giggle escapes her. He grins.

“Your laugh is so pretty, luv. S’ like bells.” He brushes the hair out of her eyes and once again the room fills with a pregnant silence. They both stand motionless at the bottom of the ladder, staring into one another. Buffy steps back from him and pulls her sweater over her head revealing the tan skin of her long arms and her taught body hidden under a thin camisole.

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