tampered | (no subject)

She didn't really understand this overspill of apology, but it wasn't in her nature to look a gift horse in the mouth. So she didn't. If there was one thing she'd learned over time, it was that it was easier to roll with the punches sometimes instead of going up against them. At least, it was less exhausting and frustrating.

"He didn't really pop in and visit back home either," she offered lamely, though her expression wasn't the hard one she'd intended it to be. He was being sweet and affectionate, and it was hard to bypass that in favor of staying annoyed and curious.

"And anyway," Faye went on, tossing back another shot of the drink before tightening her fingers across his and smirking, "quit apologizing. It's freaking me out. Next thing I know you'll start being nice."

He smirked and lazily looped an arm around her waist, kissing her shoulder.

"Well, I dunno," he mumbled against her skin, sliding his lips toward her neck, "I can be very nice, when the mood takes me."

Despite the alcohol in his system, Spike was certain that it wasn't the cause of his sudden boldness. Sometimes it was easier for him to say things in actions, than it was in words.

Spike was such a sleaze. She knew that much. All men were sleazy, but he really took the cake. Not that she minded half the time, and it wasn't like it wasn't amusing in its own right, but still. That wasn't the point. He was a sleaze because he knew the way her body and brain would react to him, the asshole, and there was little she could do about it.

She wasn't complaining, not remotely, if the way she hummed contentedly was any telling indication, but she couldn't resist making a comment: "That's your problem. It's not nice if you do it just because you feel like it. Idiot."

Spike had already been with Faye long enough to know her weaknesses, and he tended to use any advantages he could. When dealing with her, you needed every advantage you could get. The most efficient means of this, of course, was to simply cover her mouth.

"Am I?" he chided, turning fully to press his weight against her, clamping his mouth to hers. Battle-toughened fingers slipped under her top to cup her breast, the nipple rolling against his palm.

Faye had something to say to that, but kind of the point of being made to shut up was actually doing the shutting up. She didn't do it willingly, but she had a feeling that pulling his hair was sending the wrong message if the position she found his hand in was any inclination. It wasn't like she didn't have any tricks up her own sleeves, or lack of sleeves, but instant gratification was a decent proposal too.

The press of his weight against her was too much of a good thing to pass up, though. Reassuring and secure in its own way. He was here, and he was hers, and that was what mattered.

With this in mind, Faye grinned against his mouth and managed to say, all reservations aside, "An idiot? I'll say. Dummy."

Spike was never one to gloat over victory, but this time he couldn't resist a small, inward smile. It was good to know that she wanted him as much as he did her, even to the point of stopping their verbal jousting matches.

"Such a dummy," he breathed against her lips before pushing his tongue into her mouth. He was already rock hard against her thigh, hands caressing her breasts as he turned over, pulling her over onto him.

Faye felt a wash of vertigo pull at the part of her brain still rash enough to question what was going on, but before she had time to question motives or what was happening, she was situated and placed and pleased. A feat in itself, really, but like his weight had been, this was comforting, familiar, and that notion in itself was more than enough.

She didn't think to comment to his own comment, trying to find something to do with her hands as she pressed her hips down against him involuntarily. It was all instinctual by now but still an awkward position, and the only thing she could really do without being led was tug the hem of his shirt out from his pants and slide her fingers over his abdomen, trying to ignore the pressing urge to just get this done.

She always had been too impatient for her own good.

It seemed that the more Faye tried to hurry along, the more Spike forced her to slow down. His hands came away from her breasts to unclasp the front of her outfit, and undo the buttons on his shirt. He sat up, her still straddling his lap, and kissed his way down her jaw, to the nape of her neck.

"Chomping at the bit, are we?" he breathed out against her neck, his left hand sliding down her lower back. It slipped beneath the waist of her shorts and underneath her, cupping her mound gently.

She snorted to cover up the rush of air she pulled in as he sat up and attempted to mask her pleasure at the sudden change of position by smirking through it. It was important to stay in control, to keep this from turning into a power struggle or something equally ridiculous. Doing so wasn't the easiest thing in the world, since Spike always seemed to have the upper hand when it came to things like this.

For her part, she could only try and follow his lead, something she hated, slowing down her impatience and biting back a hiss as his fingers pressed against her. He got another yank on his hair for that one, though it was playful. She hoped to god no one would see them and interrupt this as she said, "You're one to talk."

He slid down her body until he locked his lips around the tip of her breast, swirling his tongue around her areola and roughly flicking her nipple. His free hand went to his belt, to unbuckle his slacks and unzip her shorts.

Spike couldn't find a way to respond to her retort, his mouth being occupied, and settled on pushing forward until she was on her back. The position made it easier for him to kick his pants off and slide off her shorts with one hand.

This was probably a stupid idea, but the idea in itself more than made up for the fact that he was the one chomping the bit here, not her. Screw the consequences and screw impatience, the only thing she had to worry about were sticks and rocks. Neither of them were bothersome the second she kicked out of her bottoms and pulled her leg up around him, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut, a groan building in the back of her throat as she rubbed herself against him.

Having her hand in his hair made it easier for Faye to try and pull him up level with her, wanting to see him rather than just the top of his head. "C'mere," she breathed, trying to worm her way down to get him more fully across her.

Spike disengaged from her chest when he felt the insistent tugging on his hair. He slid up along her body to kiss her, pushing his fingers through her hair as he sucked at the soft lips.

"Better," he said between kisses, grinding himself against her.

"'Course it's better," she said, arcing her back and moaning as she somehow made contact with his thigh. "It was my idea."

She grinned and bit his lip pointedly, pushing her tongue into his mouth and kissing him deeply, not bothering to hide the fact that she was practically rutting against him. So much for screwing impatience, she thought, worming a hand between them so she could grip him easily in her hand, moving her fingers in a way she knew he liked.

She elicited an audible grunt from his lips when she grasped him. The feel of her finger around his length caused him to give a small, involuntary thrust of his hips.

"Ah..." he huffed, "Shit..."

He moved a hand down over her sex, slipping two fingers into her and hooking them, rubbing against her front wall.

'Unfair' was one of the first words that came to mind, though it was followed closely by 'finally' and 'yes' as per usual. But 'unfair' was the one that stuck true. Spike was better with his hands than she was, especially when the action was mutual, and she could only keep up with his teasing with a little of her own for so long without giving in.

She tried picking up the pace, but could only manage a slow stroke from base to tip and back again as she rolled her hips against his hand and bit back a moan, still trying to focus but rapidly losing the end of that thread. Faye didn't know how long she could tolerate this, though. If he didn't just fuck her soon, she might lose her head, and the only way she could get this across was to push down against his fingers while she drew hers up along him, saying, "Jackass."

Spike smiled as he moaned into her mouth. It wasn't often he could get Faye out of her depth, which was exactly what made it so much fun. He increased the pressure by using his thumb to lever up her clitoris and rub it in slow circles, while his fingers scissored and churned inside of her.

"Now, now," he cooed against her cheek, "Say that and I may have to keep this up even longer..."

He emphasized by hitching his fingers up against her spot.

She had to stop herself from actively biting him. If there was one thing she couldn't stand--or at least pretended that she couldn't stand--it was letting him realize that he had an advantage. He was already smug enough as it was. He didn't need to dangle this over her, too, even if it felt so damn good Faye was sure her eyes were about to cross.

Without warning or pretense and with a pouty little twist to her mouth, she pulled her hand away from his erection and instead twisted her fingers in the material of his shirt, somehow still on, along the small of his back. She kept the groan she could feel building down in her throat and made her way up the side of his neck with tongue and teeth, biting down on his ear before saying through heavy breathing, "I don't th-think that's a good idea."

He grunted at the teeth on his skin and sudden lack of stimulus. If she wanted to try and put on a tough front that badly, then he could simply step things up, couldn't he?

"What isn't? This?" he smirked, moving his head down to kiss and suck at her neck. He suddenly started pistoning his fingers more rapidly, quickly stroking her clit and g-spot at the same time, while one hand came up to pinch and twist one of her nipples.

Faye was going to kill him, simply put. And she would make sure that she did it the right way this time, so that she never had to put up with things like this ever again. Even when she had to dig her fingers into his back, she hoped she'd make him bleed for this, for the way she was arching and twisting her spine and practically begging her brain not to beg him. If it came to that, she really would slaughter him.

It just wasn't fair. He always got her off first, every single goddamn time, and with that in mind she shook her head back and said with a tone, though less annoyed and more aroused, "Tell me how you're being nice." Even so, she bucked against him, wanting him deeper: needing, more, right now.

He was lucky her brain had detached from her spinal cord and her arms were jelly, or else she would've had him on his back by now.

Spike finally relented with a sigh and gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

"Alright, alright, I'll be forgiving," he said, moving more firmly between her legs, "I'll be really nice, then."

He easily withdrew his fingers and prodded against her entrance, then lunged forward and buried his length deeply inside of her. He grunted at the sudden onrush of pleasure, the walls of her cunt rubbing against all of his nerve-endings. A deep groan rolled through him as he adjusted to the feeling.

Goal accomplished. Or so it seemed, at least. The alternative was better, but she really should have made another comment about him being so 'charitable,' something to knock him off his high horse; however, words weren't exactly at the forefront of her mind as she hitched a leg up and over him, opening herself to his deep thrust and rolling her hips against his to increase whatever pleasure she could. And she'd be damned if it didn't feel amazing.

All that she could manage was a strained, short hiss of, "Yes" before all other thought was cut off and she pushed down against the length of him again.

Spike was past the point of needing to use words, by now. His only acknowledgement was a deep thrust that bumped against the back of her passage, followed by a deep grunt. He slowly found his rythym, plunging smoothly into her as he mashed her clit against his pelvis.

He couldn't hold back another moan into her mouth when he felt her nipples flattened against his chest.

Faye smoothed her hands across his back, only digging her nails in when she needed to, shifting frequently to meet his set pace and to pull her skin away from the grass. She kept him close against her, rolling her hips and grinding her clit against his pelvic bone when she got the chance, too caught in staying with him to touch herself.

For some reason, she wanted to push him over, take control, establish something, but what she had here was more than enough, sucking sharply where his pulse would be, and hoping to leave a mark.

Spike's rutting gradually grew more insistent as they coupled, thrusts pressing her rear against the cool grass. His tongue wrestled with hers as he pulled his arms up under her legs, changing the angle of his stimulation. He could feel his climax approaching every time her front walls rubbed over the crown of his cock.

"Ah..." he grunted, "Faye...so good...!"

Faye kept her mouth shut over his, enjoying the intensity, not trusting her voice or her capacity for words. Something was building in her gut, something warm and she didn't try to push it back down. The second he switched angles and brought her legs up, though, she felt the difference and couldn't stifle herself, tightening muscles around his cock and groaning out his name hoarsely.

She finally managed to get her hand out of his shirt and between them so she could touch herself, heightening that intensity to the point where she had to bend her back and bite down on his lip, accidentally, to keep from shouting.

The tension in Spike's body was still building, already taut as a strung bow. Every thrust was labored and slow, milking the last bits of pleasure he could get from her body. He roughly squeezed and suckled her breasts as he felt his muscles lock up.

A strangled cry against her flesh was all he could muster as he came, depositing several large bursts of come into her gripping cunt. He let out a smaller cry with each contraction, until he was finally spent, sagging against her.

All she could manage was to hang on to him loosely--though she would have preferred the opposite--her head falling back against the ground with a thud. She could feel her heart pounding like a hammer in her chest as she fought to catch her breath, muscles still contracting, gripping, pulling.

Mustering up the energy and willpower to sink her fingers into his hair, she managed a grin as she blinked long and hard. "One of these days," she said, reaching up to wipe sweat off her face, "you're gonna give yourself a heart attack."

"Well," he huffed against her neck, "If ya' gotta' go...there are much worse ways..."

He lazily shifted up, softly kissing her as he ran calloused fingers though the silken, black hair.

"I can think of a few," she replied, picking some grass off of her arm and kissing him back. Faye looped her arms over his head, around his neck, and held him against her, content until she had to get up and find her shorts again. Lord knew where they'd been kicked to.

"Most of them involve you, so they're automatically annoying," she continued, giving him a sly grin as she rubbed her fingers through his hair.

Spike simply rose and gathered their clothing together, handing Faye hers in the process. He lit a cigarette and offered her one, using his other hand to hitch up his pants.

"You want?"

Faye pulled her shorts on quick enough, snapping her suspenders into place and fanning out her hair, grimacing at the way it stuck to the back of her neck. Honestly, couldn't he pick somewhere a little more clean? Men.

"Duh," she replied, sitting more fully up and accepting the cigarette with smirk. Taking a quick drag, she exhaled just as sharply and didn't stop herself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Thanks."

Nor did Spike stop himself from turn in afterward, to place his lips against the back of her neck.

"Care to head back? We can cart the rest of the alcohol back."

"You mean you can cart the rest of the alcohol back," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes. She tapped the ashes off the end of her cigarette and watched the smoke turn slate blue in the dim light.

"I mean, you brought it all out here yourself, after all."

He raised his hands placatively and gathered the alcohol in the sack he had brought it here with.

"Let's go, then."

Faye got to her feet and stretched, wondering, in the back of her mind, just how much alcohol was actually left. Flicking the cigarette into the grass and grinding it into the dirt with her boot heel, she followed after him and caught up quickly, falling into step next to him as if nothing between them had ever been different at all.