Gods And Monsters

Chapter Seventy-five:

Throughout the remainder of the night, Hel and Spike exchanged sly little touches and intimate looks, unbeknownst to anyone but themselves. Their body language communicated more than words could ever hope to.

As the clock was nearing one A.M., Hel made her way to the kitchen to brew herself another tea. The house was dead silent, peacefully void of noise. Everyone else was already upstairs, tucked into their beds and most likely fast asleep by now. Well, everyone with the exception of one man in particular.

As if on cue, Spike sauntered into the kitchen.

Hel had her back to him, and she planned on keeping it that way. She stirred half a teaspoon of sugar into her tea, adamant she would not be the first one to speak.

"You're bloody impossible, you know that?" He blurted from behind her. "You refuse to let anyone get close. Unless you're in need of a distraction, of course. You're so flippant and apathetic and bleedin' unpredictable. I can't figure you out. It's maddening."

She turned around, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back against the counter, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

He closed the gap between them in three long strides. "Do you think of me when we're not together?" He asked her bluntly.

Taken aback, she allowed a single heartbeat of silence to pass between them before she spoke. "You ought to know I do."

A look of uncertainty crossed his wary expression. "You hesitated." Spike said softly, and turned to leave, but Hel caught ahold of his hand before he could.

"No!" She blurted.

He faced her once more, his blue eyes hopeful.

"I am unused to being asked so directly. And by you, of all people." She continued, her voice hardly surpassing a whisper. "I think of you all the time. I always have."

A relieved smile broke across his face. Extending a hand, he cupped her cheek.

"How could I have been so ignorant about myself?" She whispered. "So... So stupid. And you... You know what I'm talking about, don't you? You knew before I did." She blinked and a single drop trickled down her cheek.

His smile vanished and his brow furrowed, his eyes widening with concern. "Why are you crying?"

"Don't you know?"

"Yes, I know exactly."

Then, in one swift motion, his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her fiercely, pinning her against the counter. Without parting his lips from hers, Spike slid both of his hands under her and hoisted her up until Hel was perched onto the countertop. Her legs instinctively closed around his waist.

Her fingers slid into his hair as she allowed his tongue entrance and their kiss deepened. She felt her internal temperature rising steadily, her heart hammering in her eardrums.

Uttering a groan of satisfaction, his hands ran up her thighs and around around her hips. Starting at the small of her back, his fingertips traced every ridge of her vertebral column and made their way along the arch of her back, finally arriving at her neck. An involuntary shiver slithered up her spine.

She surfaced for air only when it was completely necessary, rendered breathless by passion.

Their eyes connected, and Hel understood at once why it was called eye contact.

"Is this what you want?" His voice was low and hoarse, which only served to further excite her. "If not, then say the word and I'll stop. Because I'm tired of dancing. I'm tried of pretending it isn't what I want. So, just... Tell me. Please. Do you want this? Yes, or no?"

"Yes." Her response, though quiet, was surprisingly steady.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that."

He held her unflinching gaze for a moment longer, his steel blue eyes dark with desire. Leaning into the crook of her neck, he pressed his mouth against her skin and began trailing kisses up and down her throat.

Closing her eyes, she savoured the sensation. Her hands descended from his little bleached blonde curls to his broad shoulders. She felt the lean muscles in his strong back as they contracted and flexed beneath the cotton of his black T-shirt, stretching and widening. She slipped her fingers under the hem to investigate further. Caressing his smooth skin, Hel mapped out the bare expanse of his back with long, languid strokes.

Spike withdrew from her neck, cupping her jaw in both hands, and recaptured her mouth. This kiss was different. Slower. More heartfelt. There was a depth of emotion in this new form of passion, an affectionate intimacy easily distinguishable from the fervid lust with which they had kissed before.

He broke their kiss gently, cradling her face between his hands, and leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

They were both quiet for a few moments.

"We should get some sleep." He murmured, brushing the soft pad of his thumb along her cheekbone.

"Okay." She whispered.

"Okay." His hands clasping her waist, he lifted her down off the counter.

Together, they made the short journey down the stairs and into the basement below. He laid down on the cot while she removed her shoes and socks, propped up slightly on his elbows. She soon joined him, curling up against his chest with her cheek resting upon his bicep. With his free arm, Spike held Hel close while she fell asleep, admiring the peaceful expression on her beautiful face.