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Buffy awoke that morning to an empty bed, just like she did every morning. She let out a lion-sized yawn and stretched sensuously over the queen-sized mattress before the great debate began. Namely, it’s warm in here and it’s cold out there. She peered over the rim of her blanket at the cold expanse of wooden floor that separated her from the bathroom. A terrifying dilemma, indeed.
After a good ten minutes of comfortable indecision, she finally got up and made the mad dash to the bathroom, squealing at the feel of cold floor on warm feet as she went. Finally safely on the bathroom rug, she began her morning rituals as consciousness slowly began to fully overtake her. And one thought immediately stood out above all others:
It was Christmas.
An excited giddiness settled deep in her bones at this thought, a little leftover delight from her childhood. For a brief moment, she felt a twinge of sadness that she wouldn’t get what she really wanted for Christmas, but she let it pass. She’d just have to pick up her belated Christmas present next time she stopped by LA…
Hair thoroughly brushed and teeth sparkling white, she padded back into her room, her feet adjusted to the floor’s temperature by now. She glanced out the window at the snow-covered wonderland outside and smiled. It might be cold, but she’d never imagined snow could be so beautiful… Her own experiences with it had been sadly limited.
Checking the clock and determining it was too early for even Dawn to be up screeching for presents, Buffy flicked on her laptop to check to see if Giles had written her from England. They’d been quite overworked as of late, and Giles, Willow, Kennedy, and Andrew had been forced to leave the country to attend to pressing matters abroad. It was infinitely better than some of the other Christmas misadventures she’d experienced while living on the Hellmouth, however. Not that she wasn’t living on another Hellmouth now…
Indeed, she found an e-mail from [email protected]. She quickly read over the message, which everyone else had inserted their own little blurbs into, obviously to Giles’ perpetual annoyance. She giggled at Andrew’s complaints that Kennedy was being a bossy bitch…which abruptly trailed off into Willow’s message that Kennedy was ‘giving Andrew a piece of her mind.’ Buffy winced in sympathy for the poor, young man.
She printed off the e-mail so that she could share it with the others when the Cleveland Scooby branch opened up their presents that morning, before scanning through the rest of her e-mail. It really was quite un-festive of the spammers to be sending out so much junk on Christmas day…
She deleted all the junk e-mails, leaving her with one real message. A slight flush colored her cheeks as she clicked on it. [email protected]. Her heart beat faster just at seeing that name.
Buffy, my love,
Sorry we couldn’t meet up this weekend, but the Ponce’s managed to get us all tangled up in this bloody scandal between the Quenlins and the Garakas, and he won’t just let me behead all the blighters and be done with it. Diplomacy, my ass. But I’ve sent you the next best thing. Just something to warm you up on those cold Cleveland nights when my charming self is unavailable to warm your bed.
With all my love for as long as you’ll have me,
William
An affectionate smile lit up her face at the message. So typically Spike: Sweet and snarky and violent and tender all at once… God, she missed him. Missed waking up in his arms, that subtle delicious scent that was so distinctly his, the feel of his Buffy-warmed lips against her bare shoulder… She sighed nostalgically and kissed her fingertips before pressing them against his human name.
And then, with a gulp, she dared turn her attention to the attachment he’d sent. With a quick nervous look to make sure her door was firmly locked, she picked up her laptop and carried it over to her bed before she dared to click on the link.
Instantly, her mouth went dry.
Before her was the most scrumptious image she’d ever laid eyes upon. Her hand drifted beneath her nightgown to rub at her clit through the silk of her panties as her eyes drank in every detail.
Somehow or other, Spike had managed to fasten a digital camera to the ceiling above his bed. He himself lay back upon the crimson silken sheets, pale and beautiful and completely naked. Taking in every magnificent detail, her gaze began at those sexy feet of his, past ankles that were tied together with a big red bow, up slender muscular calves and thighs, through the thick dark curls at the center of his sex and along those oh-so-lickable lines of his hipbones…
She sighed in fond memory of tracing her tongue up and down those sharp, powerful lines until he purred beneath her. Panting now and face slightly flushed, her fingers dipped inside her panties and began to rub her swollen nubbin roughly with desire.
Her eyes continued their journey, and she salivated at the familiar hard six-pack of abs, the smooth alabaster of his chest interrupted only by two dusty flat nipples, the pale column of his neck stretched out as if in the throes of ecstasy.
She lingered on his face for a while, stroking the screen with one hand while she stroked herself with the other. Her fingers traced the strong lines of his jaw, the razor edges of his cheekbones, the rich fullness of his slightly parted lips. And, all along, she stared deep into those fiery blue eyes of his, moaning aloud at the naked passion and devotion in them that shone through so clearly, even in photographs…
Her panting increased, and her fingers plunged deep inside her wet passage as she began to roll her hips. Her free hand caressed the screen longingly, imagining her fingers really were running through that silky platinum hair, before she turned her fingers’ attention to her hardened nipples, fondling them each in rapid succession.
She continued to watch the picture, following the lean, powerful forearms up to where his wrists were tied to the headboard by a similar red bow to the one that bound his ankles. His hands clutched at the beams at the head of the bed wantonly, as if the agonizing tension of his pleasure was about to explode and he was holding on for dear life.
She groaned at the imagery and felt her own pleasure begin to wash over her. She had three fingers deep within her now and, abandoning any pretense, focused on the portion of the image her eyes were constantly drawn to.
He was fully erect, and as thick and large as she’d remembered. His cock was a deep purple color, flooded with desirous blood, and she could even make out the swollen veins that bulged in his erection. Wrapped around the very base was a green bow, just begging her to unwrap her present… It was a very high-resolution image, she realized with delight.
Keeping her eyes riveted on his hardness, she began to pump her fingers faster. She could imagine finding him like that in her bed, teasing him with lips and hands before she oh-so-slowly pulled at that green bow, freeing him for her pleasure. She imagined she could see the first drop of eager precum escape the tip of his erection, could practically taste it on her lips, hear his heady moan…
Or was that her moaning?
It didn’t matter because now she could almost feel him within her, the rough, full lines of his contours as she lowered herself onto his willing body, the breathless gasps of completion as he filled her to his fullness, the absolute bliss in his eyes as she began riding him…
“Spike!” she cried aloud, internal muscles spasming around her fingers as she came. For a minute, bright lights of ecstasy flashed behind her eyes, blocking her glorious view of her lover.
She slumped bonelessly back against her pillows, feeling hot and sleepy and satiated from her orgasm. If only Spike were actually there beside her to share in the aftereffects of bliss…
She must have stayed like that for quite some time because when she finally fully recovered her senses, Dawn was banging on her door. “We want to open presents now, lay-z-girl!” her sister’s voice chided her.
Buffy started out of her haze at that. “Just a minute!” she called back, hastily scrambling out of bed. There was a definite stickiness between her thighs and on her fingers. She scrunched up her nose and sighed. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she instructed.
“You’re not down in ten minutes, and I’m sending Faith in there after you,” Dawn threatened, sounding amused, before rushing off down the stairs.
Buffy gulped at that and quickly washed off her hands and inner thighs, stripping off the panties she’d been wearing and slipping into a clean, dry pair. One last longing gaze at her sexy Spike picture, and she turned off the monitor. If Faith did show up, there was no way she was getting a look at Buffy’s man.
Satisfied that the post-orgasmic flush had gone from her cheeks, Buffy began to leave her room before pausing…
She glanced over to the cardboard box in the corner. She’d been unfortunately late sending out Christmas gifts this year, and this one package had yet to be sealed and send off. With a sly grin, she looked to where she’d dropped the wet panties she’d been wearing earlier.
Before her more prudish instincts could take hold, she’d plucked up the underwear, scribbled a little note, and pinned it to the fragrant fabric. She grinned at the message in her scrawling script:
The ones I was wearing when I got your ‘present’. And many thanks for the best Christmas gift any girlfriend could hope for. Love, Buffy.
Humming to herself under her breath, she dropped them into the box she had yet to send her vampire lover. A little extra Christmas treat…
“B!” Faith was banging on the door now.
Smiling, Buffy walked over to it, snagging Giles’ letter on the way. “Presents?” she inquired, opening the door at Faith’s insistence and slipping from her room.
“Merry Christmas,” the other Slayer agreed with a wicked grin.
Buffy blushed and wondered if the other girl had heard this morning’s activities. But she just smiled and nodded. “A very merry Christmas, indeed,” she agreed…