Rewards, by M. McGregor

Chapter 5

Xander’s apartment was nice. Way nicer than Faith would have ever guessed for the young man. From what the others had said, it sounded like he had a good job and was pretty damn successful for a guy who was barely twenty.

It reminded her that she didn’t really know Xander. He was a stranger to her, or at worst, a victim. Another person hurt by the destructive force that was herself.

Part of her felt an odd sense of pride for him. He hadn’t let himself be wrecked by the things she’d done, even when she’d treated him as though he was less than nothing.

Although she recognized that she didn’t know him, it surprised her that she missed him so strongly when he was gone. Xander had offered her some semblance of support, first with his eyes, then with his words, and now that he was gone, she felt utterly alone again.

She sat on Xander’s couch in the very nice apartment, staring at the table that had been the site of a profound change inside of her. Was it just a short time ago that she was the passive recipient of the hottest, most heartfelt sex of her entire life? Was it just a short time ago that she wondered if she weren’t being made love to?

The sense of loneliness intensified, and she thought about calling Angel. The vampire was her only support through her rehabilitation. He might help her find a way to get back to prison without making things worse for her.

But if she was in prison, she could never feel what she’d felt just a short time ago. She could never let Xander show her how it could be different.

What did it mean about her if she didn’t make the attempt to go back? Was she a coward, avoiding the just punishment she so richly deserved? Or was she flailing awkwardly at that glimmering sense of…Difference?

So she just sat there, fingers entwined, staring down at the floor. Time passed. Anya had retreated into her bedroom some time ago, and Faith felt her heart jump slightly when the door swung open. Anya emerged, looking studious with a pair of reading glasses on her face and a stack of books in her hands.

“Oh, you’re still here,” she said, dropping the books on the kitchen table.

“Not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“Are you all right?”

Faith blinked at the unexpected question. “What?”

“You’re not feeling murderous, are you? I only have a few decades left, and I don’t want to lose them prematurely.”

“I don’t do that anymore,” Faith said, her jaw clenching angrily.

Anya nodded resolutely. “Good. Me neither.” She took a seat at the table, and opened one of the large books. She stuck a pencil behind her ear, and poked her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she peered down. Faith realized she was staring. Damn, this girl was cute as hell.

A moment later her words seemed to register with Faith. She frowned, and thought about it for a few minutes before working up the nerve to speak. Normally, Faith was not the silent type, but she was completely inexperienced in dealing with this kind of situation, and she felt like her usual brash persona would send the wrong message, and put her in the wrong frame of mind.

“What did you mean,” she asked, her voice still slightly raspy. “You neither?”

Anya looked up at her, then scribbled something in a notebook, placed a marker in her book, and closed it. “I mean I don’t kill people anymore, either.”

“You killed people?”

“Only people who deserved it,” Anya said, haughtily. “I was a vengeance demon.”

Faith swallowed. A demon? This beautiful girl who’d done such incredible things to her? “You’re a demon?”

“Was,” Anya said. “Now I’m a law-abiding mortal.” Faith didn’t miss the little dig against her.

“Does Xander know?” Faith asked, a little surprised at the worry this instilled within her.

“Of course. He’s my boyfriend. Relationships are built on trust.”

“He knows you killed people?”

Anya nodded. “He’s very prudish about that sort of thing. He doesn’t think that laughing at a girl’s haircut means you deserve to have your insides liquefied.”

“What? You did that?”

“Okay, fine,” Anya relented, despite no real argument being offered. “Maybe it wasn’t totally fair, but I’m mortal now! I deserve a chance to prove myself!”

“Uh, yeah,” Faith said, wondering how they’d gotten here. “Sure.”

“I guess sometimes I wi— sometimes I’d like it if I hadn’t done a lot of it,” Anya sighed. “It’s really so unfair, this mortality business.”

“It is?”

“Yeah! Sometimes I feel all nauseous thinking about it, and I cry for no reason. It’s ridiculous! I was a demon, I was just doing my job.”

Faith swallowed, remembering her own job. Remembering Lester Worth, and the way her knife slid into his gut.

“Yeah,” Faith whispered.

“It’s good that you don’t do that anymore,” Anya remarked, as if she were making a profound observation. “My life is very important to me.”

Faith felt a grin slide onto her face, and she chuckled despite herself. “Yeah, guess it would be.” She pursed her lips, and nodded her head towards the books. “What’s with the books?”

“Oh!” Anya turned to better display them. “They’re books on how to optimize your life and acquire the most in funds and goods with the time allotted to you. That’s how you win.”

“Win? Win what?”

“The Game of Life,” Anya said. “Xander and Buffy’s little sister enacted a simulation with me the other night which was very helpful.”

Faith quirked an eyebrow. “You played Life and that’s how you’re going to live?”

Anya nodded. “Of course. I have as few as fifty years left, barring a murder, and I’m starting late. I need to catch up quickly, and acquire all I can before someone else takes it.”

“Weird way to look at it.”

Anya shrugged, and began looking through one of her books: The American Marketplace and the Drive for Success. Faith leaned back and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

All at once, Faith gasped and arched her back. Stinging twinges of pain ignited into aching pleasure as she felt something bite deliciously into her nipples. They became erect at once, pressing against the soft material of her borrowed blouse. Faith grunted and shut her eyes, her hands coming up to her breasts without thought. She cupped herself, and felt a strange, foreign hardness.

Her mind already flushed with a variety of sexual fantasies, Faith was quick to place the feeling, and the realization of what happened made her groan. She breathed heavily, her body flushing with its newfound need. The pain of it, the pleasure of it, and the simple idea of it all worked to key her up.

“What are you doing?” Anya asked, frowning at her. “Sex time is over.”

“Something…happening,” Faith breathed, her eyes rolling back as she rubbed her hands over her breasts. She hissed an inward breath as her fingers tugged the thing gently, and even that minor movement sent prickling pain and burning pleasure throughout her.

“Hey, that’s my blouse, don’t rip it!” Anya said, quickly placing her pencil in her book and scrambling towards the couch. She pulled at Faith’s wrists, trying to keep her from ripping her blouse open. She was little match for Slayer strength, and Faith tore a few buttons as she pulled it free. Anya opened her mouth to protest, and then stared in shock.

“Wow,” she breathed a moment later. “Where did those come from?”

Faith’s nipples were deep red points topping the curves of her breasts, pointing desperately upwards. Through each was a glittering gold ring, pierced through the nipples and hanging like tiny doorknockers. Anya could make out a few droplets of blood where the rings had, apparently, pierced the Slayer without warning.

Moaning and rubbing at her breasts, Faith slipped a finger through each ring, and tugged on them, her moans turning to loud groans. Anya stared in mute fascination.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Mm-hmm,” Faith moaned, nodding. “Hurts good. Oh god. So good.” She tugged again, and her back arched as her body was seemingly pulled up by her own tugging. Her breathing quickened, and her hips rocked against a non-existent lover. She bit her lip, and wished she had more than two hands. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw Anya staring at her from mere inches away.

Anya was beautiful and as sexy a woman as Faith had ever known. She was curvy and take-charge, the kind of personality that Faith always liked butting heads with to prove who was the bigger man. Now she was hoping to butt heads, but she wasn’t so much hoping she came out on top. Already the thought of being at Anya’s mercy was awakening her desires. The old ones, the new ones, and the Buffy ones.

“Touch me,” she begged, her voice quiet and tiny, but insistently pleading. Faith was halfway through repeating it when she gave up that idea and surged forward, pressing her lips against Anya’s. Anya let out a muffled cry of surprise as the Slayer’s momentum pushed her back down against the couch, her fingers still tugging at her newly pierced nipples.

“I have to study,” Anya said, each word punctuated between kisses. Her breathing began to speed up as well, and Faith crushed her lips against Anya’s, her tongue searching for her insistently. Xander’s girlfriend hesitated, and then pushed her own tongue back against her. Faith moaned happily, lost to her lust and desire.

Anya pulled back after a moment, and stared up at Faith breathlessly. Faith was barely aware of her, eyes closed and playing with her now incredibly sensitive breasts. “Ten to twelve is my study time,” Anya whispered. “I need to stay to my schedule. Sex time isn’t until Xander gets home.”

At his name, Faith attacked Anya’s lips again; such was her desire for him to be there in that moment. She imagined his rigid hardness sliding up into her, taking her and controlling her. She pulled hard at the rings, crying out against Anya’s lips at the pain that was such pleasure. They locked lips for another few moments before Anya was able to pull back. She smacked her lips and looked quizzically at Faith.

“Did you learn that from him?” she asked. “Or did he learn that from you? That swirling thing.”

Faith had no answer for her, other than to moan against her lips and pull at her breasts, desperate for Anya, for anyone, for Xander to touch her.

Then came a flash of light, and Faith nearly wailed with fury. Her arms were suddenly locked behind her back in a long leather sleeve. She was bound tightly, unable to touch herself anymore.

“No!” she whimpered, falling against Anya, unable to support herself for the moment. Anya quickly rolled her over, and Faith sat back on the couch, breasts heaving, arms locked behind her back. She brought her knees up to her chest in an attempt at some kind of stimulation, but could accomplish nothing. She turned pleading eyes to Anya. “Please. Please touch them. Please, Anya.”

Anya frowned at her. “One of the first things they say in The Rules to Financial Security is that you should always stick to your schedule.”

“Fuck your schedule!” Faith growled, struggling to turn over and crawl closer to Anya. “Fuck me!”

“Well why should I? Last time I gave you many orgasms, and I got nothing. Not even Xander.”

Faith groaned and rolled her eyes again, a brief wave of pleasure blasting through her. Anya raised her eyebrow with a little smirk.

“Anything,” Faith whispered. “I’ll make you cum, I promise. Just pull them. Touch me. Fuck me, please.”

“I’m not sure I even like having sex with girls,” Anya pointed out. “Sure, it was enjoyable to make you squirm around, and it was all very exciting, but it wasn’t even half as nice as the time that Xander and I experimented with anal sex.”

Faith fell towards Anya, her lips pressing against the ex-demon’s. Anya pushed her gently off after a moment.

“You’ll like it,” Faith promised. “I’ll make you feel so good. I promise. Please?”

Anya sighed. “Well, I guess I can’t blame you for being so horny, you’re in the middle of a reward, after all. Your timing just stinks.”

“I’m sorry,” Faith breathed, even though she was unaware what she was apologizing for. Was unaware of anything but the desire for someone to play with her breasts. To play with her. “I’ll make it up to you.”

That raised Anya’s interest. “You will?”

“Anything. I promise.”

“Well…I need to finish unpacking later. That’s scheduled for twelve to two. Maybe you cou— umph! Mmm…” She was cut off by Faith’s lips again, and moaned happily for a moment before pulling back. “Maybe you could help with that, and that would let me pencil in some time for you.”

“Yes. Yes, anything. I will.”

“Okay then,” Anya said, nodding resolutely. Her hands snaked up Faith’s front, and squeezed her breasts, not gently. Faith groaned happily and nearly collapsed against Anya, who was lying on her back now on the couch. Faith straddled her as best she could, and sat atop her, head thrown back and arms secured behind her as Anya kneaded her titflesh.

“Pull them,” Faith pleaded. “Hurt them, please.”

“Like this?” Anya reached up and pulled down hard. Faith grunted and was pulled towards Anya, babbling her thanks as she did so.

“God, yes! Ungh! Like that!”

Anya shrugged and continued to pull almost clinically. “I usually enjoy some light pinching,” she remarked. “But not like this.”

“Never felt— Yes— Like this— Ungh— Before!”

“Is it good?”

“Yes!” Faith exclaimed, arching her back, intensifying the pull on her stretched nipples. Anya frowned.

“You seem very durable,” Anya observed, seemingly impressed with the amount of punishment her breasts could take, or perhaps seemed to enjoy taking.

“Slayer,” Faith said, rocking her hips against Anya. “Tough as hell.”

“So it would be okay if I did this?” Anya asked, and sat up, bringing her mouth to Faith’s right nipple. She brought her teeth down at the very tip of her nipple, and bit down with surprising force.

Xander’s neighbors were very lucky that their apartment complex had opted for the thick concrete walls between each dwelling. Such a thing was a must, in Sunnydale, lest one was woken up by the blood curdling screams that were of course never present in the quiet little town. This scream, however, would likely not have frightened them, even if the soundproofing didn’t block it. This scream was the scream of someone driven to an unexpected new height and had come tumbling down afterwards.

Faith cried wordlessly at Anya’s bite, her body racking with a powerful orgasm. Her legs clamped down around Anya’s, and she wished she could hold the other girl’s head against her chest. Instead, she simply pushed her body against her as much as she could; her substantial breasts pressing almost flat against Anya’s face.

Anya pushed back against her, and soon Faith was on her back, with the ex-demon atop her, gnawing softly against her nipples. The first bite was still the strongest, an explosion of incredible pain that cascaded into tremendous pleasure. Yet the waves kept on coming at the soft nibbling, and Faith could hardly believe she was feeling such pleasure from someone playing with — or perhaps torturing — her tits.

It was some time later that Faith blinked up at Anya’s inquisitive face. The other girl was still clothed, while Faith had lost her borrowed and torn blouse somewhere in the action. She was nude from the waist up. Faith panted, somewhat surprised to find herself still in Xander’s apartment, still with Anya. This just couldn’t be real.

“Is it my turn yet?” Anya asked, seeming a little put out. “I’d like an orgasm like that, please.”

Faith nodded in mute astonishment. After that, she’d kiss this girl’s feet if she asked her to. Part of her even hoped she would.

“Good. I thought about it while you were shaking around. Tony Robbins says multitasking is very important, so I think you should lick my pussy while I finish my studying.” She quirked her head, frowning down at Faith. “Is pussy a good word? I read that people like it better than vagina.”

“Pussy’s good,” Faith gasped.

Anya grinned at her. “I certainly enjoy mine, especially when Xander’s touching it.” She moaned happily, closing her eyes. Faith almost joined her, imagining Xander touching her own. “He’s very good at licking, so if you want to show me that girls are worthwhile sexual partners, you’ll have to be at least half as good.”

Faith swallowed and nodded, feeling the color in her cheeks. She was going to eat this girl’s pussy, which suddenly seemed like the hottest thing in the world.

Hell, everything seemed like the hottest thing in the world, now.

“Okay then, come on. I don’t want to mess up my schedule anymore if I can help it.” She got off of Faith and stood up beside the couch. Faith blinked and rolled over, her arms still secure in the leather sleeve behind her. It gave her an incredible feeling of vulnerability, her pierced nipples on display for anyone to reach out and take them. She couldn’t stop them, not that she would want to.

“Here, you get under the table,” Anya ordered, pulling the extra chairs away. “You can lick me while I study. Afterwards we can have lunch before we start unpacking, okay?”

Faith just nodded, feeling like she was caught in some kind of whirlwind. She sunk to her knees, and shivered at the feeling of submission. Anya smiled down at her as she crawled under the table. Then she stared in awe as Anya began pulling off her clothes. In seconds, she was standing in front of the table, looking down at Faith. She posed from side to side.

“Am I attractive enough to have sex with?” Anya asked, clearly intent on the answer. “Xander seems to like it, but Willow and Tara have never tried hitting on me. I’ve only caught them staring at my boobs twice.”

“You’re hot,” Faith said without a hint of dishonesty. “Way hot.”

“Great!” Anya grinned. “I definitely have to take advantage of that while I can. My body’s going to be thirty in ten years! That doesn’t leave a lot of time for attractive sex, unless I can get money for plastic surgery, or find some kind of glamour spell, but those never work properly. I remember once this girl who tried to make herself look nineteen forever, but she made a mistake and became nineteen days old instead of nineteen years, and let me tell you, the infant mortality rate was not good in Burma in 1252.”

As Anya spoke, Faith watched her move around the kitchen, looking in many of the still unopened boxes. She fished something out, and held it up triumphantly. “Ah! Here it is. Dr. Melissa Grayson says you should always think of your partner’s pleasure, especially when they’re servicing you sexually. This way I can make you feel good while you lick me, but I can also keep studying.”

She walked back to the table, gloriously nude. Her body was a perfect example of womanhood, curvy, soft, and very tight. Her breasts held no hint of sag, resting proudly atop her chest. She seemed proud of her body, and had little problem with being nude. When she sat down in front of Faith, her legs spread, Faith nearly dove forward in that instant, so desperate was she to taste the other girl’s pussy.

Anya dangled the roll of string in front of Faith. “Come here,” she said as she began to unfurl some. Faith struggled to crawl forward without hitting her head on the top of the table. Her heartbeat quickened as Anya reached down, threading the string through the rings that now adorned Faith’s nipples. She hissed in delicious pain at the light pulling as Anya threaded the string through both. With a pair of scissors, she cut the string and tied either end to each ring. She smiled happily at her work, and cut another, longer piece of string.

Breathing heavily by this point at the straining pull the short piece of string placed on her sensitive breasts, Faith moaned when Anya tied the second piece to the middle of the first. She looped the other end around her left hand, and gave it an experimental tug. Faith yelped in surprise at the sudden jerking stab of pain, and groaned as her body flushed with new arousal.

“Good?” Anya asked. Faith whimpered her assent. “Good!”

She scooted her chair closer to the table, and Faith squirmed back underneath. She swallowed in nervous anticipation. This was perfectly in line with all her new and powerful fantasies. In a moment, she would be focused only on pleasuring Anya. She would be a plaything, a toy for her amusement, and her only job would be to make her feel good. Closing her eyes, Faith moaned softly, and felt her own pussy clench with excitement.

Anya’s legs spread wide apart as she sat on the edge of her chair. The string traced up to her hand atop the table. Anya opened her books, and gave one last look under the table.

“You can start now,” she said casually. Then her face was gone, and Faith was in a world of herself and the girl’s wet pussy. She licked her lips and leaned forward carefully so as not to fall flat on her face. Her legs were spread wide for balance, and she inhaled the soft, musky scent of Anya.

She gasped when Anya tugged idly on the string, and Faith plunged her face into Anya’s snatch, pressing her tongue lengthwise down Anya’s wet slit. Anya let out a little moan of approval, and Faith whimpered in exquisite pleasure as a rewarding tug came through the string.

That was how it went. Faith started slow, lovingly licking the outer lips, teasing Anya’s clit or sometimes just kissing her gently. The more aggressive she got, the harder the tugs. The softer she took it, the tamer the tugs. It wasn’t long until Faith was plunging her tongue deep into Anya’s cunt, reveling in the taste, luxuriating in her new position. On her knees, licking the pussy of her owner’s girlfriend.

And as Anya’s right hand reached under the table and grabbed Faith’s hair at the back of her head before pressing her harder against her pussy, Faith knew one thing for certain. Her new prison was much nicer than the old one.

Then Anya pulled the string, and Faith lost the ability to for coherent thought.

The shower was hazy with the steam of the intensely hot shower, water heated to a degree that might not have actually burned the Slayer, but would have at least been too uncomfortable for her. Now, however, Buffy was too far-gone to notice. If she did, she might have realized that the stinging pain of the water served only to heighten her pleasure.

Back against the wall, one hand between her legs and the other pulling at the gold ring that had pierced through her nipple right in the middle of her shower, Buffy did her best to stifle her cries of pleasure. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain to her mother and sister why she was suddenly sporting nipple rings, or worse yet, why she was pulling on them like some crazed nipple-ring-puller-type-person.

She wasn’t much with the analogies, just then, and bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood as she shook to another pounding orgasm, Xander’s name bit back through sheer force of will.

Finally, it was the shower itself that ended Buffy’s unexpected masturbation session as the nearly scalding water suddenly turned ice cold. The shock of it sent her spiraling into one last, shuddering climax, and she slid against the wall into a sitting a position, exhaustion overtaking her.

For some time, she breathed heavily, idly pulling the new rings or fingering herself in a lazy kind of way, the cold water helping to smother the burning desires within her. She stared up at the nozzle, letting the icy cold water hit her directly in the face, and closed her eyes, calming herself.

Logically she’d known that the reward was not ended with Xander having sex with her. There was no time limit mentioned anywhere, either by Gimmel to her or by the parchment to Xander. For all she knew, crazy sex magic would be making her life very interesting for as long as she lived.

To know it logically and to actually experience it were two different things. Buffy hadn’t been prepared for the sudden piercing, nor the shocking reaction she had to the quick and biting pain of it. She’d nearly fallen to her knees right there in the shower, and although the pain had been intense, she wasn’t complaining about it. It was a good kind of pain, weaved seamlessly into equally piercing pleasure that she found intoxicating.

As she sat exhausted on the floor of the shower, nipples hard from the cold, the rings, and her own arousal, she found herself wondering what would be next. How far would the magic go? Would all the fantasies that now danced around her mind eventually come true?

This had been one of them, she knew, and it had even been one that was her own. She’d never liked to look at that part of herself, before. The part that found pain alluring, even exciting under the right circumstances.

Sometimes when she was with Riley, she’d ask him to play with her nipples. To pinch them, even bite them. He would, reluctantly, but never near the force she secretly desired. She was the Slayer, and his refusal to test her limits was always a quiet barrier between the two of them, never spoken about but always there. It was what drove Riley so hard to keep up with her in every other aspect of their lives.

Now she had experienced, however briefly, a taste of that dark desire. That instant of pain as her sensitive nipples were pierced. The unexpected nature of it added to the allure. What would be next? Would they remain with her forever, or vanish like the cuffs and bonds from earlier? Would other parts get pierced, parts that might explode with even more intense pleasure/pain?

Or would the next thing be completely different, some other fantasy made darker by the Hellmouth, yet made exciting by the reward? The sheer number of ideas and possibilities started to rev her up again.

Buffy got to her feet, and quickly finished her shower. She was almost late for class as it was, and she was as determined as ever to get the things she wanted in life. Recently she’d found herself just as interested in being the Slayer as she was in going to school, but she was not going to sacrifice one for the other.

She just hoped that the reward wasn’t going to take those things away from her. She was counting on Anya’s expertise, and counting on the implied references that suggested her life wasn’t going to be hindered by this.

But what constituted a hindrance? The nipple rings were going to be an issue for her. Her breasts were so sensitive thanks to them that she knew wearing a bra was out of the question. If she wore a loose enough shirt or blouse, then the rings might not show through.

What if they did?

Buffy had to bite her lip again at the thought. To her credit, her hand only strayed to her nether region for a few moments before she regained control.

Was that a hindrance? Or would knowing they were there, knowing she had this naughty secret all throughout the day make everything…Brighter? Hotter. More intense.

Could she concentrate on American History while she was desperate to play with those rings, and even more desperate to have someone else, a Xander-else, play with them too?

She only played with them three more times in the course of getting dressed. For the time being, she decided on a fairly thick top that would obscure the rings but would be much rougher against her sensitive nipples. It was the tradeoff she was forced to make to keep them a secret. As it was, she was sure everyone on campus would see she “had her highs beams on” as she’d once heard Xander call it.

She wanted him to see her like that. Buffy stared at herself in the mirror, looking into her own eyes. Maybe she could go to his job in between classes. Just to talk. They had a lot to talk about.

Buffy licked her lips.

Giles. They could talk about telling Giles.

And Xander might glance down at her tits, and see them poking out of her shirt. Maybe he’d have to shift in his seat, because his cock would start to grow at the sight of her. Buffy could laugh at one of his jokes, and put her hand on his knee. Xander would smile that goofy smile of his.

Then one of them would accidentally mention that morning. Some accidental reference to it that would remind them that his cock, that hard dick had been inside of her. That she’d been exposed and open to him, and that she was his now.

She would have to be honest. She would tell him she’d been thinking about him since then. She would tell him that she’d thought of him as she fingered her wet and dripping snatch, and wished it was him twisting her nipples with delicious pain. Buffy would slide off her seat, and crawl over to him, staring up into his eyes. Eyes that would shine down on her with perfect trust and caring.

“Tell me to do something,” she could say to him.

“Like what?” he would ask.

“Anything.” She would stare at him, her meaning clear with the look in her eyes. Xander would reach down, cupping the side of her face, and Buffy would nuzzle against it. She could do that. She could enjoy his touch, and not feel guilty about it.

What would he tell her to do?

“Kiss me,” he would say. It would be in a whisper. Tremulous and timid, worried he was overstepping his bounds.

She would kiss him then, springing up against his face and crushing her lips against his. Her hands would touch either side of his face, holding him to her. It would be so perfect, more perfect than any kiss she’d ever shared with anyone. A kiss of complete trust and love. A kiss where she would have no fear of what this man would do with her love. A kiss where she would know he would always cherish her.

Buffy opened her eyes and was surprised to see them glazed over with lust. Panting heavily, she pulled her hand out from beneath the band of her pants. Her fingers were slick with her own arousal, and on a whim she licked her forefinger. The taste was sweet, and she sucked the finger into her mouth.

What would Xander think if he saw her do something so brazen? What if it wasn’t her own juices she was licking? What if it was Anya’s? Or Faith’s?

She stared at her reflection as she licked her hand clean.

She couldn’t visit him. What if it didn’t go the way she dreamed?

Worse yet, what if it did?