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You Know What the Sun's All About
1666 words
NC17
you can be oh so mean
I just can't see, no in between
- The Black Keys
She's not the first one Spike fucks. She does get to watch.
It's one of those things where she's not even sure how or why it starts. Except that's a lie, told by herself to herself to keep any guilt away, any hint of the idea that this is Wrong and Bad and she shouldn't be doing it. She shouldn't be involved. She shouldn't be lying here on her bed, watching them, stripped to her underwear with one hand in her panties.
And fuck that, basically.
Spike's running the show. That makes eminent sense, that Spike would like being in charge of something like this, spinning delightful corruption and luring them both in. Mike... She has a feeling that he didn't need a lot of luring. That he was already there, just waiting. For the right setting, for the right people. Spike has him up against the wall, one hand on his throat, the other stripping him slowly and methodically. Mike is fighting, struggling, pressing up against Spike’s hand and trying to wrench his hips away, but she knows it's just because Spike likes his meals lively.
Hot.
She wonders if they’ve done this before.
“Still busy, aren’t you, pet? Like I told you?” Spike glances back at her and gives her that smile of his--half teasing and half mockery. With his eyes on her she feels suddenly exposed in a way she hadn’t before, and she draws her legs halfway up and lets out a whimper.
She’s never been told to do it. Not like this.
“That’s it. Just like that.” WIth one yank, Mike’s pants and underwear are down low on his thighs, his cock jutting up hard--he lets out a strangled sound when Spike closes a hand around him and jerks slowly. But Spike isn’t looking at him. Those fucking eyes on her, and she’s not naked but she feels like she’s been stripped more completely than Mike has.
“Get yourself all wet.” Spike grins. “Get yourself ready.”
Shit, for what, for what. And then she notices the way Mike is looking at her. The way Spike’s stepped back to allow him a better view, hand still cruelly curled around Mike’s dick. They’re being held out in front of each other like bait. Like pieces of meat.
Because Spike likes his meals hot.
She doesn’t have to be told to slide two fingers into her cunt. She does it on her own, spreading her legs wider, and she moans when Spike shoves Mike toward the bed. He lands halfway up between her legs, staring at her on his hands and knees; she can feel what’s coming but her brain can’t quite work its way around it. She blinks slowly and Spike is beside her, his clothes gone like they’ve melted away and of course he’s just as hard as Mike is. In a kind of awe she reaches up and lays a hand against his lower belly, still fucking herself with her other. He’s not cool to the touch but he’s not hot either, and she can feel his skin sucking away her heat, sending it back to her in waves.
“Come on, love,” he murmurs. Soft. Coaxing. His cock is inches from her mouth but he isn’t moving, he wants her to close the distance, and of course she does, because she wants this so much it makes her hurt. Her lips part, and she’s thinking of his bloody fingers pushing into her mouth like his cock is now, gently insistent and letting her set most of the pace. It’s a strange taste, not really like anything else she’s used to, and that and Mike’s ragged breathing churn the inside of her head into a frenzy. She sucks hard, so hard that Spike hisses and clenches a hand in the fall of her hair, hips rocking forward. She doesn’t know where anything is, where her hands are, where Mike’s hands are, what Spike is doing besides fucking her mouth, and it doesn’t matter. What she’s feeling matters
It’s letting go.
When Spike’s hand slides in along hers she gasps; when he slides a finger into her alongside hers she cries out softly. She hears Mike echo it with a softer moan, on his hands and knees between her legs. Spike is fucking her mouth, fucking her cunt open with wet, obscene sounds; she arches her hips up and keens, so close already. But then his finger is gone, his cock pops free of her mouth, and she gnashes her teeth, suddenly furious--she’s had enough of being teased.
Then she sees what Spike is doing and she can’t make a sound.
Mike hasn’t moved. Spike has. Positioned himself behind Mike’s body, cock wet from her mouth and fingers wet from her cunt. He shoves Mike’s head down, grins at her, presses those glistening fingers into the crack of Mike’s ass.
He’s using her juices to ease his way.
Mike shudders, hisses, arches his back and lets out the first hint of resistance that she’s seen since he was stripped in front of her. For her, she’s starting to get that, and it makes her almost crazy. Spike tightens his grip, still grinning, laughing at both of them. God, fuck him.
Oh, she wants to.
“Relax, pet.” Spike leans down, breathes the words into Mike’s ear, punctuates them with a hard bite at the cartilage. “Make it easy on yourself.”
“Fuck you,” Mike growls back, and she almost laughs.
Her fingers have stilled in her cunt, all her attention locked onto the scene playing out in front of her, and now Spike’s gaze hits her again and she feels a wave of hot and not entirely unwelcome shame flushing her face. “Mustn’t get too distracted, love.” He looks from Mike to her, thrusting his fingers in harder, and Mike groans, his arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up. “Get those things off. Let him see you. How pretty you are.”
Her bra and panties come off. They seem to slide off her body by themselves--this time she’s staring at Mike, the way his eyes follow her, the way he almost looks like he’s panting, like a fucking overheated dog. Pet. Yes. Yes, that word fits too well. She drops onto her back again, her legs spread, both her hands moving between them.
Slut, she thinks, and she smiles.
“Watch this,” Spike murmurs, and she’s watching when he thrusts into Mike’s body in one hard, ruthless movement. Mike twists and lets out a strangled yell, eyes squeezed shut and every muscle in his body straining. She notices odd things in this moment, his scars so pale against his flushed skin. Her fingertips circle her clit in rapid little spirals, and without really meaning to she’s already coming, her mouth open wide to let out her moans, shaking as Mike is fucked into the mattress between her spread legs.
“Didn’t say you could,” Spike pants. He’s leaning over Mike’s body, hands rough on his hips, teeth bared. “You’re not a good girl. What do you think?” One hand gripping Mike’s hair now, dragging his head up. “Can you make her come again? Can you do that for her?”
Mike’s gaze meets hers again, and though he’s being held and shoved down at the same instant he’s being yanked mercilessly upward, in that moment his eyes flash and he’s all predator, all ravenous instinct. Spike pushes him forward with hands and hips and she knows what’s coming for her the second before Mike’s mouth closes over her cunt, tongue thrusting into her, and no, she’s not good, and no, she doesn’t want to be if these are the consequences.
It’s a chain. They’re linked. She curls her fingers into Mike’s hair and hangs on, bucking against his face, forcing her eyes open enough to watch Spike fucking him into her. Spike’s looking at her, only at her, and it’s Mike’s mouth and Mike’s wickedly clever tongue sending sparks up her spinal column, but Spike put everything in its place, set this tableau, and she knows she’d let him do anything right now.
And that’s trust. Twisted, perverse, real as anything.
It isn’t that much of a challenge, in the end. She’s rolling her hips up in a hard, stuttering rhythm, one hand against her face like she’s hiding from someone, something, but Spike can see everything and so can she, eyes snapped open and pushing herself up when Mike’s mouth vanishes from her cunt and he cries out. She looks, one frantic hand between her legs again, and sees Mike dragged back up with Spike’s arm around his middle and Spike’s shifted, evil-looking face visible over his shoulder, teeth sunk into the side of Mike’s throat. He’s bitten bloody, fucked open, coming so hard without a hand laid on his dick and letting loose another cry that sounds more anguished than anything else.
Mike is still shaking when she starts to, three fingers in her cunt and her hips pumping. She wonders vaguely if he even notices. Blood drips from his neck, spatters warm onto the inside of her thigh. She stares at it as her orgasm lets her down again, wondering at it.
Wondering at the both of them as they slowly ease down with her. Spike pulls out with a soft grunt; Mike sighs and sinks onto the bed, head against her thigh. He meets her gaze--there’s something in it, she’s not sure what, a kind of kinship maybe--and licks the blood from her skin.
She swings her gaze up to the shadows on the ceiling, one sticky hand working through Mike’s hair. Heat against her side; Spike, settling beside her, his hand on her belly and his mouth against her throat--which is tight now. She tries to swallow. His lips are moving like he can ease her. Mike’s lips are moving, shaping words she doesn’t understand.
She closes her eyes. Looking up, it’s like watching a red sea close over her head.
1666 words
NC17
you can be oh so mean
I just can't see, no in between
- The Black Keys
She's not the first one Spike fucks. She does get to watch.
It's one of those things where she's not even sure how or why it starts. Except that's a lie, told by herself to herself to keep any guilt away, any hint of the idea that this is Wrong and Bad and she shouldn't be doing it. She shouldn't be involved. She shouldn't be lying here on her bed, watching them, stripped to her underwear with one hand in her panties.
And fuck that, basically.
Spike's running the show. That makes eminent sense, that Spike would like being in charge of something like this, spinning delightful corruption and luring them both in. Mike... She has a feeling that he didn't need a lot of luring. That he was already there, just waiting. For the right setting, for the right people. Spike has him up against the wall, one hand on his throat, the other stripping him slowly and methodically. Mike is fighting, struggling, pressing up against Spike’s hand and trying to wrench his hips away, but she knows it's just because Spike likes his meals lively.
Hot.
She wonders if they’ve done this before.
“Still busy, aren’t you, pet? Like I told you?” Spike glances back at her and gives her that smile of his--half teasing and half mockery. With his eyes on her she feels suddenly exposed in a way she hadn’t before, and she draws her legs halfway up and lets out a whimper.
She’s never been told to do it. Not like this.
“That’s it. Just like that.” WIth one yank, Mike’s pants and underwear are down low on his thighs, his cock jutting up hard--he lets out a strangled sound when Spike closes a hand around him and jerks slowly. But Spike isn’t looking at him. Those fucking eyes on her, and she’s not naked but she feels like she’s been stripped more completely than Mike has.
“Get yourself all wet.” Spike grins. “Get yourself ready.”
Shit, for what, for what. And then she notices the way Mike is looking at her. The way Spike’s stepped back to allow him a better view, hand still cruelly curled around Mike’s dick. They’re being held out in front of each other like bait. Like pieces of meat.
Because Spike likes his meals hot.
She doesn’t have to be told to slide two fingers into her cunt. She does it on her own, spreading her legs wider, and she moans when Spike shoves Mike toward the bed. He lands halfway up between her legs, staring at her on his hands and knees; she can feel what’s coming but her brain can’t quite work its way around it. She blinks slowly and Spike is beside her, his clothes gone like they’ve melted away and of course he’s just as hard as Mike is. In a kind of awe she reaches up and lays a hand against his lower belly, still fucking herself with her other. He’s not cool to the touch but he’s not hot either, and she can feel his skin sucking away her heat, sending it back to her in waves.
“Come on, love,” he murmurs. Soft. Coaxing. His cock is inches from her mouth but he isn’t moving, he wants her to close the distance, and of course she does, because she wants this so much it makes her hurt. Her lips part, and she’s thinking of his bloody fingers pushing into her mouth like his cock is now, gently insistent and letting her set most of the pace. It’s a strange taste, not really like anything else she’s used to, and that and Mike’s ragged breathing churn the inside of her head into a frenzy. She sucks hard, so hard that Spike hisses and clenches a hand in the fall of her hair, hips rocking forward. She doesn’t know where anything is, where her hands are, where Mike’s hands are, what Spike is doing besides fucking her mouth, and it doesn’t matter. What she’s feeling matters
It’s letting go.
When Spike’s hand slides in along hers she gasps; when he slides a finger into her alongside hers she cries out softly. She hears Mike echo it with a softer moan, on his hands and knees between her legs. Spike is fucking her mouth, fucking her cunt open with wet, obscene sounds; she arches her hips up and keens, so close already. But then his finger is gone, his cock pops free of her mouth, and she gnashes her teeth, suddenly furious--she’s had enough of being teased.
Then she sees what Spike is doing and she can’t make a sound.
Mike hasn’t moved. Spike has. Positioned himself behind Mike’s body, cock wet from her mouth and fingers wet from her cunt. He shoves Mike’s head down, grins at her, presses those glistening fingers into the crack of Mike’s ass.
He’s using her juices to ease his way.
Mike shudders, hisses, arches his back and lets out the first hint of resistance that she’s seen since he was stripped in front of her. For her, she’s starting to get that, and it makes her almost crazy. Spike tightens his grip, still grinning, laughing at both of them. God, fuck him.
Oh, she wants to.
“Relax, pet.” Spike leans down, breathes the words into Mike’s ear, punctuates them with a hard bite at the cartilage. “Make it easy on yourself.”
“Fuck you,” Mike growls back, and she almost laughs.
Her fingers have stilled in her cunt, all her attention locked onto the scene playing out in front of her, and now Spike’s gaze hits her again and she feels a wave of hot and not entirely unwelcome shame flushing her face. “Mustn’t get too distracted, love.” He looks from Mike to her, thrusting his fingers in harder, and Mike groans, his arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up. “Get those things off. Let him see you. How pretty you are.”
Her bra and panties come off. They seem to slide off her body by themselves--this time she’s staring at Mike, the way his eyes follow her, the way he almost looks like he’s panting, like a fucking overheated dog. Pet. Yes. Yes, that word fits too well. She drops onto her back again, her legs spread, both her hands moving between them.
Slut, she thinks, and she smiles.
“Watch this,” Spike murmurs, and she’s watching when he thrusts into Mike’s body in one hard, ruthless movement. Mike twists and lets out a strangled yell, eyes squeezed shut and every muscle in his body straining. She notices odd things in this moment, his scars so pale against his flushed skin. Her fingertips circle her clit in rapid little spirals, and without really meaning to she’s already coming, her mouth open wide to let out her moans, shaking as Mike is fucked into the mattress between her spread legs.
“Didn’t say you could,” Spike pants. He’s leaning over Mike’s body, hands rough on his hips, teeth bared. “You’re not a good girl. What do you think?” One hand gripping Mike’s hair now, dragging his head up. “Can you make her come again? Can you do that for her?”
Mike’s gaze meets hers again, and though he’s being held and shoved down at the same instant he’s being yanked mercilessly upward, in that moment his eyes flash and he’s all predator, all ravenous instinct. Spike pushes him forward with hands and hips and she knows what’s coming for her the second before Mike’s mouth closes over her cunt, tongue thrusting into her, and no, she’s not good, and no, she doesn’t want to be if these are the consequences.
It’s a chain. They’re linked. She curls her fingers into Mike’s hair and hangs on, bucking against his face, forcing her eyes open enough to watch Spike fucking him into her. Spike’s looking at her, only at her, and it’s Mike’s mouth and Mike’s wickedly clever tongue sending sparks up her spinal column, but Spike put everything in its place, set this tableau, and she knows she’d let him do anything right now.
And that’s trust. Twisted, perverse, real as anything.
It isn’t that much of a challenge, in the end. She’s rolling her hips up in a hard, stuttering rhythm, one hand against her face like she’s hiding from someone, something, but Spike can see everything and so can she, eyes snapped open and pushing herself up when Mike’s mouth vanishes from her cunt and he cries out. She looks, one frantic hand between her legs again, and sees Mike dragged back up with Spike’s arm around his middle and Spike’s shifted, evil-looking face visible over his shoulder, teeth sunk into the side of Mike’s throat. He’s bitten bloody, fucked open, coming so hard without a hand laid on his dick and letting loose another cry that sounds more anguished than anything else.
Mike is still shaking when she starts to, three fingers in her cunt and her hips pumping. She wonders vaguely if he even notices. Blood drips from his neck, spatters warm onto the inside of her thigh. She stares at it as her orgasm lets her down again, wondering at it.
Wondering at the both of them as they slowly ease down with her. Spike pulls out with a soft grunt; Mike sighs and sinks onto the bed, head against her thigh. He meets her gaze--there’s something in it, she’s not sure what, a kind of kinship maybe--and licks the blood from her skin.
She swings her gaze up to the shadows on the ceiling, one sticky hand working through Mike’s hair. Heat against her side; Spike, settling beside her, his hand on her belly and his mouth against her throat--which is tight now. She tries to swallow. His lips are moving like he can ease her. Mike’s lips are moving, shaping words she doesn’t understand.
She closes her eyes. Looking up, it’s like watching a red sea close over her head.