This ends the Spander part. No more Xander, keep reading for Spike/Faith
Not long after the room was just his again, Spike decided he was damned well going to take care of the little problem that had arisen when he'd been taking the piss with the boy. He figured he was deserving and he had shit else to do in the way of entertainment, not even rile up the others, since the flat was silent and dark; the git had lit out of there like his ass was on fire, and Giles was gone for the night with some old 'friend' of his probably making the beast with two backs at some cheap hotel.
Fuck, even the doddering old Watcher was getting his rocks off, these days.
He opened his jeans with a low groan and took himself in hand.
The tub was nowhere near comfortable for a good wank but that wasn't about to stop him from getting one off. Hadn't had a toss since before the Initiative caught him -- bloody voyeuristic gits had cameras in all the cells and he wasn't about to give them the pleasure of watching him; they'd done enough.
Lip caught between his teeth, he set an even, moderate pace. His skin slickened as his fist moved, and yeah, the chains rattled but he couldn't do anything about that at the moment.
He was too involved in how good touching himself felt after so long.
He loved to play with his balls, his ass, his nipples, when he masturbated but he couldn't get naked enough, or have enough space to get really involved.
He pouted to himself and stroked a little faster, brow creasing in a pleasured frown.
Pre-cum leaked over his fingers and slicked the way, as he rolled his hips up into his fist. The bathroom's acoustics made every tiny sound he attempted to muffle echo in the silence and he was awfully tempted to get loud and let it all out. Spike realised, after a few moments, though, that the ants crawling across his skin sensation of a nearby Slayer had suddenly appeared and was very nearby. Spike realised the Slayer was very likely just outside the bathroom door, quite possibly having a listen.
But he couldn't be assed to put away his hard prick so he just kept pulling until the door opened and a dark head poked around the corner.
A lascivious grin curved red lips as Faith sauntered into the room barefoot with acres of tan legs available for the ogling. She angled her head at him, watching his hand move over his flesh, then locked the door behind her with a tiny groan. A tiny plaid skirt in pink, black and white barely covered her ass and the black, form-fitting tee she wore didn't leave anything to the imagination, especially her perky, bra-less breasts.
Her nipples were hard and looking desperate for attention. Spike's mouth practically watered for a taste.
Spike breathed deeply, eyes roving her sweet little body as hers caught and stayed on his cock.
"Well, well, well, Willy... Are we having a little private touch time?"
"Was till you showed up, Slayer," Spike rasped, watching her leg muscles clench as she sashayed closer to the tub. "Though, I can't say I'm disappointed by your interruption. View's certainly improved."
Faith's nearly black eyes glittered. "Glad I came in and checked after Xander came out bitching about you. He almost knocked the door off the wall he was so pissed, when he left. Was gonna teach you a little lesson about being nice but on the other...hand, I think we could both find something fun to do that isn't nice at all, don't you? How about a little being bad? You wanna be bad, Spike? Betcha haven't been bad in too long, huh?"
Spike's nostrils flared, inhaling spicy Slayer musk. His eyelashes fluttered, hand tightening around his prick. "Oh, I think great minds think alike, pet. I am, after all, the Big Bad."
Cheesy, pornographic line, there, but it didn't seem to bother her and Spike couldn't be assed to think straight as he watched her hips sway back and forth.
Faith dimpled and reached under the hem of her little rag of a skirt and removed a miniscule pair of thong panties. She tossed them behind her with a flick of her wrist and teased him with a glimpse of glistening pussy as she started towards him.
Spike's cock twitched in his hand, pupils dilating. "I'm so bloody glad you turned out to not be the other bint."
"You have no idea how glad I am, too. The girl's got no sense of humour and never has any fun."
After rucking up that little skirt and showing him only a glimpse of neatly trimmed quim, she crawled into the tub, moved the chains so they wouldn't bruise her delicate (perfect) flesh and slid down on him in a smooth movement, slick and wet and hot.
She'd been wet before she'd entered the room, he'd bet his ass on that. This one was probably permanently wet. It fit her personality.
He smirked faintly as she began to ride him, using his shoulders to brace herself.
She'd had a plan before she'd come in here. She'd likely been going to seduce him.
Spike really didn't have a problem with that. Slayer cunt was the sweetest and most coveted of all, because what was almost better than killing a Slayer? Why, fucking one, of course.
He groaned as he moved his hands to her waist and urged her into a rolling gait.
She rocked against him, breasts rubbing against his chest through the material of both of their black t-shirts, sweet little pussy gripping him like a wet glove of silk.
She shoved his shirt up to his arm pits and pinched his nipples hard enough to hurt. The pain shot down to his balls and he bucked upwards, flinching as his chains dug into his thighs and hips, snarling a little as his wrist caught when he attempted to bring one hand up to fondle a breast.
Was only fair, after all; she was playing with his tits, so why shouldn't he get to play with hers?
"Sodding chains," he muttered.
Faith's laugh was as dark as her eyes. "I kind of like 'em."
"I'm all for kink, Faith, but I'd like a little give to maneuver."
"You don't need to do a thing, Blondie. This time, foreplay isn't the first thing on my mind. I just wanna get off. I been horny for, like, hours. Let me do all the work, here." She ground down on him with an expert twist of her hips causing him to breathe sharply, and grinned, sliding her hot little hands up and down his sides. "I don't think you'll be disappointed."
Spike was a bit disappointed. Some of his best moves were involved in foreplay.
"I expect I won't," he said softly, eyelids fluttering shut as his head fell to the lip of the tub and he made due with just rolling his hips up periodically and clenching his fists around her gyrating pelvic bones.
He shuddered as she rolled his nipples once again and then leaned forward and took one in her mouth.
Her hips never stuttered in their rhythm. She was quite the multi-tasker.
The room was heavy with the scent of sex, it filled Spike's nostrils, made him even harder as Faith dragged herself up and down on him faster and faster. He could feel his jeans growing drenched with their combined wetness and knew he'd smell it for hours, maybe even days after this coupling, and couldn't find it in himself to care because that would just make it that much more real.
Plus, he could draw on the scent of her and him and drudge up enough wank material for a good long while -- he'd be wanking again, Watcher and others be damned. Or at least until their next fuck. He had a definite feeling this wasn't going to be their only tussle.
He could feel his balls draw up, as her walls contracted around him ever so often with the coming tide of her orgasm.
They were both close.
He panted and watched as she flung back her head, heavy curtain of hair falling against her shoulders, face open and blissful for the first time since he'd met her, and rode him hard and fast as her inner muscles clamped down on him, fluttering and fast in her orgasm, as she cried out sharply and dug her fingernails into his skin.
She squeezed the orgasm right out of him as she finished her own.
He came with a choked off whimper, whiting out behind his eyelids, pushing up into her as she slowly ground down a few times more.
He collapsed against the back of the tub with a hard, muffled thud that probably hurt but at the moment he felt no pain other than the pain she'd inflicted.
And those blasted chains digging into his hip bone.
He swallowed hard and opened his eyes to stare at the disheveled Slayer with her flushed face and sweating temples.
Her neck was bared to him and it was all he could do not to let his fangs drop and launch himself at her.
He'd have to settle for admiring the long, unblemished line of flesh, pulse visible in the large artery as her heart continued to race.
She fell forward against his chest and he got to enjoy the heat of her body for a while longer, his cock slowly softening inside her until it threatened to slip out.
He cleared his throat as she absently stroked his lower stomach with near scalding fingers. "Think you can somehow mention it to the Watcher that I'm," he made a face, and forced out a strangled, "Harmless and don't need to be locked up in here any longer? My muscles are starting to atrophy."
Faith wiggled and his cock perked up a bit. "Don't think all of 'em are, stud. Christ, if you're like this stuck here without room to move... I wonder what you'd be like full out in bed..."
Spike grinned smugly. "Well...now that's incentive to get him to let me free, innit? And who says we need a bed, anyway? Any flat surface would do, for that matter."
Faith lifted her head, dimples cute as you please in her cheeks, creating that illusion of an innocent little girl who knew no wrong. She grabbed a handful of his hair and angled his head and then finally gave him a kiss that sent his toes curling inside his combat boots.
She devoured him and he started to harden inside her, seeking out and filling her warmth.
"Wow. I could get used to the whole vamp stamina thing... Ain't no other guy been able to keep up with me. So disappointing, ya know? Nothin' worse than that kinda tension. I got an itch, I want a guy who can get it done."
"You get me out of here and I'll show you what it's all about, girly. I can do things no other man could even dream of doing to you. Don't have to breathe and I've been known to go down on a bint for hours, if I've a mind to..."
Her breath quickened and her walls clenched around him.
She stared at him only a moment before she was lifting free of him, straightening her clothes, getting some toilet paper to wipe up their fluids from between her legs and giving him a wad to wipe himself clean.
"Yeah, I'll get on that. I could probably get him to let you stay with me at the apartment... I mean, a big bad vamp like yourself needs twenty-four hour babysitting, doesn't he? You could, like, get into all kinds of trouble if you're not supervised, right?"
Spike tucked himself away and stretched out in the warm glow of his post-orgasmic release. The chains were readjusted at his sides, clanking. "Yeah, I could do...some really bad things if I were left to my own devices." He licked his lips enjoying the taste of her. "Get me out of his hair, too. I'm sure he'd like that bit. Could bring his hot bits of middle-aged fluff back here to his place instead of renting a seedy motel room."
Faith grunted, thinking, and turned to unlock the door. "Yeah, he might even get the Council to pay me or something. That's, like, over time or something, right?"
Spike arched an eyebrow. "That'd sweeten the deal for you, wouldn't it, pet?"
Faith's look scorched him. "Yeah, the money'd practically make me come my brains out."
She opened the door, he stopped her, glancing at the floor. "Hey, what about your knickers?"
Faith turned and looked at the tiny scrap of pink fabric. She bent over, gave him a good view of her bare backside and fuck swollen cunt and smiled cheekily as she tossed the damp panties at him. He easily caught them and quashed the urge to bring them to his nose and inhale.
"Keep 'em. You can call 'em a souvenir or something. Get you through your lonely days and nights till I can come and...entertain you. Do my best to get you out but you know Watcher man. Doesn't trust nobody and little Miss Goody-two-shoes makes me look bad."
And then she left him to ponder her words.
He lifted the panties to his face and inhaled her scent, finally, when he was sure she was gone.
He shuddered and got hard all over again.
If he couldn't get his hat trick by killing a slayer, he'd settle for fucking one instead.
Sex, after all, was very nearly as good as killing in his book.
He stuffed the panties in his pocket and sprawled loose limbed in the tub, waiting.
The chains clanked and rattled but he didn't seem to mind all that much, now.
Here Endeth the Story