bountyhead | × ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ

[ Between the effects of the liquor and his orgasm, Spike finds out pretty quickly that he can't keep himself upright and drops his back heavy on the bed to catch his breath and stare at the ceiling while his head swims. Whatever discomfort he'd been in is almost effectively gone for the time being, and he's grateful for the relief.

It takes a moment for his eyes to find Faye when she gets to her feet, finding himself rather enjoying the new angle on her. The corner of his mouth hooks in a lazy grin and he chuckles. ]

You didn't hafta go through all that just to prove your point, you know. But... Sure. Why not? I think you've repented hard enough. ...Thanks.

[ He finds himself rather suddenly thinking that he doesn't quite want her to leave just yet. The look on her face and the color on her cheeks tells him that maybe she doesn't want to, either. Without saying so, he lifts his hand for her to take as a silent invitation. ]

[ The amusement that sweeps across her face becomes the harbinger to the unrestrained laugh that expels from deep within her belly. What a lunkhead. ]

Oh, I've repented hard enough, eh? Good to know.

[ Faye rolls her eyes but it's very clearly playful when accompanied by the smile on her face. She then pivots to reach for her top but stops when she catches his hand lifting from the corner of her eye. She glances over, double-take, stops to stare at him for what feels like a whole minute but is really just a few seconds—and then she clasps hold of his hand, making the few steps towards the bed before climbing onto it.

His instincts are right on the money. She didn't want to leave but she was prepared to accept that outcome anyway. Knowing that he wanted her to stay triggers a flutter in her chest that compels her to kiss him the moment she's lying down beside him. ]

[ He'd noticed she was turning to leave, but having her pause and eventually take his hand was more than he'd expected of her, and yet still just enough in character for the moment to not seem so out of place. He gives her a gentle tug to coax her forward until she's gotten herself comfortable, and eager to return the kiss as soon as she gives it to him. As nice as her act of contrition was, it would be a shame to let her go so soon, especially when he can easily see how eager she is as well.

Long fingers hooked around the curve of her neck, drawing her head closer and keeping it there while he shifted, rolling her onto her back and holding himself over her. It gives him a good angle to press his kiss deeper and keep her from wriggling too far away. He wouldn't say it out loud, but especially after that, he craves the affection. ]

[ Wiggling away is the last thing on her mind. Her body rolls without rigidity and her hands find their way to his face to cup the sides of his jaw out of an act of familiarity. Fingers pet the light stubble on his face; trace down his neck, his chest, and then back up again. She pulls him in as close as they're able, aiming to deepen the kiss to a point where she's nearly swallowing up his entire mouth, teeth dragging lightly against skin, tongue forcing its way past his lips. A moan escapes but is quickly lost. Her body bends up to him invitingly, her supple breasts pressing to his bare skin, and she revels in his heat.

Faye craves affection the same but that quickly trips back into lust. That fluttering feeling in her chest moves more south, influencing her to grasp one of his hands and move it to where that feeling was migrating: inside her shorts and between her legs. Hot, wet, and aching. A gasp will break the kiss, followed by a shaky breath with the following words intertwined: ]

That's how wet you make me.

[ After her performance, it really shouldn't have been a surprise that she was so eager, but as someone still getting used to being in situations like this with a woman, there was still a lot to get used to. Spike was hardly shy about pushing back with his own tongue, still riding fairly high and doing his best not to give a second thought to the new taste on her tongue. He just doesn't want to think about it.

Her soft flesh pressing against his chest drags a quiet moan out of him. Who doesn't like warmth and softness when the world always so cold and hard? His world especially. He's happy to take his time while he recovers, but she seems to have other plans. If she hadn't taken his hand, it likely would have found its way into her shorts sooner rather than later anyway. When she breaks, he doesn't let himself go far, nipping her lip with his teeth and pressing kisses to the corners of her mouth and her chin. ]

You must've really been having fun down there. Picturing what it's going to do in here, maybe?

[ He lets his long fingers slip between the warm, slick folds, admiring just how thoroughly soaked she was and dragging them along the length of that tempting slit between her legs until they were thoroughly coated in her. With a shift of his hand, he brushes her clit, already hard with arousal, and lets his fingertips lazily play with it in circles, careful little flicks, and slipping it in and out between a pair of fingers. ]

[ Faye hates the cold. It reminds her of cryosleep; the 54 years she lost and all her memories that had gone with it. The temperature itself hardly bothers her (she'll wear her tiny little hot pants even in frigid Callisto weather) but warmth is what reminds her that she's alive. A cozy blanket, a cup of coffee, a hot bath, the burn of whiskey, the summer sun as it encompasses her entire body, a cigarette's cherry, the heat from a passionate moment between two people.

Like now—though it's through the ache of intense arousal that drives her, their entangled heat still serves as a reminder though it's lost in the lustful haze. His long fingers find purchase in the slick folds of her sex and she's so sensitive that the moment he passes over her clit, her whole body trembles. A good sign that it probably won't take very long, or very much, to pull her completely over the edge. Her hips buck and she finds herself grinding her pussy against his hand almost frantically so, like some kind of animal in heat, strictly out of the need for release. She takes his face in her hands and keeps her mouth hovered over his, exchanging nips and kisses, but ultimately painting his lips with breathy moans of encouragement. ]

Yes... god yes... right there... don't stop.

[ It's difficult to keep himself from completely indulging her, from letting her go wild and even get herself off. He can feel the shudders coming off of her, and he can practically smell her lust and need of him in the air. He knows he won't have to do much to finish her for now, and yet he's reluctant to end it so quickly.

Still, she had given him very clear instructions, and with her lips and teeth pleading her case while giving him a good look at her flushed cheeks and passion-dilated eyes. After all she'd done for him, he'd be an asshole to fight now. He keeps the pressure on, working his fingertips in firm circles against her for just a while longer. ]

Come on.. don't be shy. I wanna see that face you make when you really lose control..

[ He hadn't expected how worked up she had been making him with such minimal effort from her, and with the way she was making her pleasure encompass every single sense, he's certainly on his way to getting excited again.

There's another shift of his hand, and the heel of his palm is grinding against her while a pair of long fingers slip inside her, out, and back in again and again. She feels scorching to the touch and impossibly slick. And all just for him. ]

× ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ

♥

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