Title: Out of Africa
Warnings: Graphic sexual content
Summary: Set post-NFA sometime in my All Wrong ‘verse. Buffy and Spike share a carefree night together in Africa. You do not need to have read the story to enjoy this though!
A/N: Written for feedmykink’s “hot or sweet” challenge, which called for one scene of plotless kink. This was the “sweet” one. It’s the fluffiest bit of Spuffy you’ll likely ever see from me.
Thanks to my beta Eowyn315. Finally, some Spuffy to edit!
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. No profit is gained from my writerly endeavors and no copyright infringement is intended.
The soft earth gave under his feet as he bounded after her, the thundering of her heart his homing beacon. Leaping into a tree, he surveyed the patches of tall grass below until he saw a flash of gold hair, her carefree smile. He watched her intently until he could only just catch her lithe shadow in the gloom, and then made his way onto the savannah to stalk his quarry. The eyes of wildebeest glowed in the darkness as they followed his progress.
She was crouched low waiting for him, and tackled him down into the prickly, sun-crisped grasses when he trod too near. Sprawled across her, he whispered something, but she couldn’t hear him over the din of life surrounding them. She felt the drumming clatter of ibex and zebra’s hooves rattling up her chest as they trotted across the plain. She felt the energy of the hunt, the fight, the kill around her, and sighed up at the endless night, watching the twinkling fireflies hover in big swarms over the bush. Something inside her sang out that this was home.
He turned to her and prodded the soft pooch of her lower lip, his tongue tracing the edges of her mouth in thorough sweeps. Drawing her up, he dipped her down onto hands and knees and mounted her from behind, his hands encircling the small of her waist. She splayed her legs low to the ground, clutched at the dirt, and moaned deeply in welcome as she opened herself to him. They both shuddered when he thrust into her on a sigh, the slide tender and unhurried. The light breeze carried her need to him.
She bowed forward so that her haunches rose into the air and he rocked into her, the softness of her buttocks cushioning his groin. He smoothed his hand over the firm flesh and, swaying together, they found an easy rhythm. Hunched over her, his hand captured her belly, the other her clit, and rubbed and pinched them respectively as he gnawed gently at the nape of her neck, sniffling into the mane of her hair.
Even in the dead of night, this place brimmed with life such that her orgasm poured over her while she fed off it. The waves were continuous and rippled, ebbing in a stream and expanding outward so that she felt it diffuse through her to send quivers up her spine, her toes, her lips, as he kept his pace steady.
“You’re glowing,” she heard him whisper, and turned to look into his shimmering yellow eyes. Here, in this place, there seemed to be nothing unnatural about him, and she clutched his face to chastely mouth his fangs. He nuzzled her cheek and kissed her ear at her sudden affections, and leaned back to jounce her on his lap.
“I want to see you,” she murmured, and turned to face him, wrapping her legs tight at the small of his back as he continued to work her off on him with hitched gasps and moans. He whined, and then his hands were in her hair, angling her into a fang-filled kiss that shook her. He took care with his fangs and flipped her onto her back, sliding out of her and then into her ass. The passage was easy; she was slick. She cried out as he hitched her legs up over his shoulders, and moved in her as he looked at her with a curious expression of awe.
She bore down and clenched her muscles, staying with him as she sent him into an orgasm that he whimpered through. Soon after, a savage growl wrenched free of his throat, and he pulled her down to feast on her sex, which seemed to be the epicenter of her very being. He could feel her heart there just as he felt the life of night, the currents of energy that sprang out of the brush like leaping gazelle. He wanted to run and keep running toward the inky black horizon with her at his side. With that image in his mind, he began to spend again, his hips frantically tremoring. But he hardly felt it for all that surrounded him. Cradled in her essence – her scent and sound, body and soul – he knew nothing but her.