A thrill ran up Spike's spine at the ideas that flashed through his head at that statement, and his hand clenched more tightly on Wesley's hip. "And vice versa, pet. Isn't much I wouldn't do for you... with the right incentive."
Wesley made a small sound of pleasure at the way Spike's hand was gripping his hip and ran his own hand up Spike's back. "And what might the appropriate incentives be?" he asked.
Spike was fairly certain that all he'd need was for Wesley to ask, or perhaps even just to hint. "You're smart; I'm sure you can think of something," he said, his lips ghosting across the skin beneath Wesley's ear.
"You do it so nicely," Spike said, his hands tightening involuntarily again at the thought. He gently mouthed Wesley's neck. "What would you be begging for?"
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