Fic: Goddess (6/?)
Title: Goddess
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC-17
Chapter Word Count: 3,685
Beta: ssddgr thepuddinhead
Summary: Buffy Summers is the hot teacher everyone lusts over, William Giles her student. He’s thrilled to have been roped into helping her out over the summer; she’s just trying to fight her attraction to him.
Notes: It's been a while and for that I apologise. Life's been hectic and it's not calming down, so I can't promise when the next update will be. I might have waited until I had a few chapters ready but a couple of readers from Elysian Fields have been in contact asking about this fic so I wanted to get a chapter posted.
Massive thanks as always to ssddgr for beta-reading this, and thank you to thepuddinhead for also looking over this chapter for me!
Chapter Six
William awoke to the unfamiliar sensation of a warm body pressed to his side. In a sudden rush of memory, the night’s events filled his mind, and he turned to see that Buffy lay next to him, fast asleep and with her mouth slightly open.
He shifted on the mattress, the movement causing it to dip slightly in the middle. He watched as Buffy murmured something in her sleep before blinking her eyes open. She frowned, and he smiled down at her, still giddy from everything that had happened the previous day and during the night.
“Hi,” he said and bent down to steal a kiss from her lips.
Eyes wide, Buffy drew her head back and then sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. “Oh my God,” she said, scrambling backwards as though burned. “Oh no. Oh, God.”
“Buffy?” William asked, a sinking feeling filling his chest and weighing him down. He lifted his hand to touch her face but dropped it when she flinched, her gaze fixed on the sheets.
He watched her take a couple of deep breaths before she looked at him. “You should go.”
“Buffy-”
“Go! Get out!” Keeping the sheet wrapped around herself, she got out of bed and bent to pick up a robe from the nearby chair. She slipped into it and tied the sash around her waist, then turned to face him. “This was a mistake. Go home, please.”
William stared at her for several moments, his mind going blank, as he tried to think of what to say to change her mind. Nothing came to him, humiliation at her reaction spreading through him, his cheeks staining with red. He sighed, gathered his clothes from the floor and slipped into them as quickly as possible.
“For what it’s worth,” he began, once he’d buckled his jeans and pulled his boots on, his eyes averted. Buffy was standing by the window, her head turned away, but he knew she was listening. “For what it’s worth, last night was amazing. I don’t regret a thing.”
“I do,” she replied, her voice quiet but the words harsh enough to cut glass. “Please go.”
Blinking past the sudden stinging of his eyes, William turned to leave. He hurried along the corridor and only stopped to pick up his t-shirt from where it had fallen on the stairs.
***
“William!”
He ignored the voice, turning over on his bed to face the wall.
“William? Come downstairs, please!”
With a roll of his eyes, he sat up and pulled on a shirt. He knew that if he didn’t, Jenny would come looking for him and, well-no one should have to enter a teenaged boy’s room unless they absolutely had to.
He left the room, blinking in the bright light of the hallway. It had been three days since he’d had sex with Buffy. Three days since she’d rejected him and he’d come home humiliated and angry. He’d spent most of that time sulking in his room, occasionally wanking when the memories of the night they’d spent together filtered into his consciousness. Mostly, though, he’d sulked.
William wasn’t a cowardly person, but he couldn’t muster up the courage to go back over to Buffy’s house and demand an explanation.
He’d turned the events over and over in his mind-both the sexy parts leading to the aforementioned wanking-but he thought about the other moments, too. The flash of her eyes when they’d fought in her kitchen; the quirk to her lips when she’d seen the Chinese food; her elation after she’d come; the quiet cuddle time afterwards.
“William, are you listening?”
He shook his head and blinked a couple of times. “Uh, sorry. What did you say?”
His stepmother sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “Honestly, you’re getting spacier by the day. I need you to run an errand for me.”
“Oh.” William frowned. He hadn’t left the house since he’d come back from Buffy’s, and the thought of going outside sounded suddenly appealing. “Sure. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m helping organise a fundraiser with my tai-chi group from the gym,” Jenny said. “I’ve got some promotional stuff I need to drop round at a couple of the other girls’ houses.” She beckoned him through to the kitchen, where two shoebox-sized boxes sat on the counter. “This one needs to go to Alison-she lives at the top end of Blossomfield Avenue-and this one is for Buffy and, well, you know where she lives; you’ve been helping her all summer.”
William’s heart simultaneously lurched and began to beat faster at the mention of her name, and he swallowed. Jenny wanted him to take something over to Buffy’s house, and how could he say no? If he did, Jenny would want to know why, and he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth.
With a sigh, he picked up the boxes and asked her to write down the other address.
***
William didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when he arrived at Buffy’s house and she didn’t answer the bell. Figuring she’d know what the box was, he set it down on her doorstep before trudging down the front path, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He had just made it to the sidewalk, when a flash of movement in an upstairs window caught his eye. He turned and saw a whirl of blonde hair dart away from the glass. The sight of her filled him with happiness and anger, a confusing combination, and he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
It was time to be pro-active. No more sulking in his bedroom, no more hiding away.
He was going to win her over, and he was going to start right now. Glancing up at her bedroom window, he realised he could no longer see her standing there. Whether that meant she’d be down in a moment to confront him, he didn’t know.
William hurried to the side of the house and lifted the latch on the gate that led to the back yard, thankful that it was unlocked. He hadn’t had cause to use this path before, always being welcome to go through the house itself.
Once in the back yard, he unwound the garden hose from its wheel, connected it to the tap and went back down the weedy path to the front yard.
This is a stupid idea, he thought, once there. She’ll think I’m an idiot. Who shows up unannounced and randomly starts washing someone’s car? And what kind of weirdo thinks a car wash is romantic?
Mentally shrugging, he squeezed the handle of the hosepipe and set the spray going onto the car. It was then that he realised he had nothing to clean the car with-a huge flaw in this hastily constructed plan.
He sent another glance up to the window and saw Buffy’s shadowy figure peering out. He couldn’t see the expression on her face or tell anything from her posture, but he felt defiant nonetheless and pulled his shirt off.
Moments later, it was sodden, and he was using it to wipe down the car, but he only succeeded in smearing the dirt and smudges around. Great plan, William.
He didn’t stop what he was doing or even slow his movements when he heard the front door open. He felt her watching him for a few moments.
“William? What the hell are you doing?” Her voice came from just beside him, and he jumped, the garden hose falling from his grasp and causing water to spray across his legs.
“Cleaning your car,” he replied, picking up the hosepipe and clicking it off. “It was dirty.”
“I can see that,” she said, leaning forward to examine the new smudges that his not-so-genius plan had created. “Why?”
“Wanted to talk to you,” William said, meeting her gaze, “and you didn’t answer the door, even though you were home. Thought I’d make myself useful and try to entice you outside.” He put his hands on his waist, fingers splayed across tight, defined abs.
Buffy swallowed and had the good grace to look ashamed, despite the blush that stained her cheeks. “I thought I made myself clear the other day,” she whispered. “You know, after-”
“Yeah, clear as mud,” William said. “We had sex, more than once I might add, and then you kicked me out. Right clear, that is.”
“Shh!” Buffy said, glancing around worriedly. “Come inside.”
William grinned and set the hose down on the ground. “Glad to.”
***
Instead of leading him to the kitchen, as he’d expected, Buffy had him follow her into the living room. She sat down on the sofa, and he stood next to the big armchair for a couple of moments before kicking off his boots and starting to unbuckle his jeans.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked.
“Got my jeans all wet,” he said, sliding them down his legs. “Don’t want to ruin your furniture.” Clad now only in black boxer shorts, he sat down and looked at her expectantly, his expression softening and voice turning serious. “We need to talk about what happened the other day.”
“I can’t-” she said. “I can’t concentrate with you being all half-naked. You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Would you feel more comfortable if you were half-naked too?” he asked, with a grin.
“No!”
William shrugged. “Just checking.” He sighed, and reached across for one of the big throw cushions on the sofa, which he hugged to himself. “Better? Could borrow something of yours, I suppose, but I don’t think any of your frilly skirts or dresses would suit me.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Buffy said and smiled. A beat later, and the smile fell from her face, a frown replacing it. She shook her head and looked to be berating herself, before she met his eyes. “You’re right, though. We need to talk.”
“Yeah.”
“What happened the other day… it shouldn’t have,” she said.
“Why?” William demanded.
“You even need to ask that? You’re seventeen, Will. I’m your teacher, for God’s sake.”
“That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me,” he said.
“It was a mistake,” Buffy replied.
“A mistake you made three times in a row?”
“I let my hormones get the better of me,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I’m sorry, Will, but it shouldn’t have happened.”
“You’re right; it shouldn’t have. But it did, and you know it wasn’t just hormones. We have something, Buffy.” he stood up, dropping the cushion on the floor, and knelt down in front of her. “You can’t deny there’s something between us.”
“But-”
“Shh.” He touched the side of her face. “This is about you and me. We could have something good here, and who cares about the other stuff?”
“We should care,” she whispered. “If anyone found out…”
“They won’t,” William said. “Not if we’re careful.”
“Will… If we do this, no one can know.”
“I know.” He felt elation begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach.
“Not even your friends.” She paused. “Especially not your friends.”
“I know.” He took her hands in his. “Buffy, I’m not taking this lightly.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, which ended on a laugh, and squeezed his hands. “Okay. We’re doing this. Okay.”
“You won’t regret it,” William said, then frowned, his words bringing to mind what Buffy had said to him the morning after they’d slept together. “Can I ask something? That morning, you sent me away because you were afraid, right? Not because…” he trailed off. “Not because I was… it was-bad?”
“No!” She sat forward, bringing her mouth close to his. The scent of her filled him and made his mouth water. “God, no. It was wonderful. Really. You’re right; I was afraid. I woke up and I saw you, and my first thought was to kiss you, but then I panicked. I was scared of what had happened between us, because of, you know, the unusual situation. I’m still scared. But… I’m sorry. Sorry I got all bitchy-Buffy. You didn’t deserve that.”
“S’all right. I forgive you,” he said teasingly.
“Good,” she replied, before closing the gap between their mouths and kissing him, hard.
William groaned at the taste of her-chocolate, he thought, and something else, something sharp and sinful, fruity and sweet all at once.
Buffy broke the kiss to pull her summer dress up over her head, and his eyes widened when he saw what she was wearing beneath: a silky, pale-pink bra with matching panties, the sides tied together in a bow. The material was thin and sheer; he could see the buds of her nipples straining against the silk and her dark strip of hair beneath the knickers.
“You dressed up for me,” he said with a grin.
“Shut up.”
He cupped her breasts, the satiny material and the weight of them in his hands feeling wonderful. He pressed lightly on her shoulder, backing her up along the sofa, until she lay with her head over the armrest, hair falling down almost to the floor and legs hitched up, so he could perch between them.
William touched her breasts again, thumbing her nipples through her bra, loving the way they puckered and hardened at his touch. “I love your boobs,” he said, delighting in the way they moved beneath his hands when she laughed at his words.
“Every man loves boobs,” she said, and tilted her head back with a gasp when he closed his mouth around her nipple.
“Yeah, but yours are especially lovely,” he replied, resting his chin on her chest and looking up at her with a grin. “All round and firm but still nice and bouncy. And these,” he said, rubbing one nipple with his thumb while lightly biting the other through her bra. “I really like these.”
Buffy laughed. “I didn’t know sex could be fun.”
William stopped what he was doing and looked up at her again. “You didn’t?”
“No. Well, yeah, it always feels good, but I’ve never laughed with a guy like this before. And the one time I did, it was because… well-” She raised her hand and waggled her little finger in the air. “I couldn’t help myself. You should have seen it.”
“Poor guy,” William said. “No complaints in that department for me, I hope.”
“Nope, none at all.” She smiled, and then frowned when he didn’t move. “You gonna get back to what you were doing?”
“Bossy. I like it.” William ran his hands down her sides and then back up again, before curling his fingers inwards and tickling her.
She writhed beneath him, laughter bubbling up and spilling over. “Stop, stop!”
He didn’t; his hands moved furiously across her stomach, and he delighted every time he felt her flesh jump, every time she giggled throatily. “Say the magic words.”
“Stooooop!” Buffy said through breathless laughter. “I ca-I can’t-breathe!”
“Say the magic words,” William said again, laughing himself when Buffy kicked her legs out and dug her fingers into his sides, tickling him in retaliation. “Say, William Giles is a Sex God and I can’t wait to have his cock inside me again!”
“I’m not saying that!”
“Say it,” William said again, tickling her sides.
“All right, all right! WilliamGilesisasexgodandIcan’twaittohavehiscockinsidemeagain!”
He stilled his hands and tilted his head to one side. “Hmm, not sure I got that. Maybe I should tickle you again?”
“Don’t you dare.” She began to scowl, but smiled instead.
“I think I might.” He slid his hand down her stomach and past the ties of her panties, to the curve of her thigh. “Might tickle you here.” He cupped her mound and pressed the heel of his hand hard against her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she repeated, her head falling back across the arm of the sofa again. “Yeah, do that.”
He rubbed her through the silky material and felt how wet she was. Sliding down her body, he nipped lightly at her stomach and then touched his tongue to her through her panties. The taste of her almost made his eyes roll back in his head, and he shuddered.
Pulling at the ties on the sides of her underwear, he let the scrap of silk slide off her like butter. He’d seen her pussy before but not like this, not spread wet and wanting beneath him, glistening with her juices and oh-so-ready for his mouth.
William kissed the inside of her thigh before licking her hard, bottom to top. She gasped, and he did it again, a little slower this time, savouring the moment. He purposefully avoided her clit, though he could see it hard and pulsing. Instead, he spread her folds with his fingers and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her slit, before delving his tongue inside and curling it upwards.
Buffy yelled his name, and he took a moment to look up the length of her body. A more erotic sight William had never seen; she lay spread across the sofa with her head thrown backwards, her long blonde hair trailing the floor. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open and her chest was heaving with short, sharp gasps for air.
She had pulled down the cups of her bra, and the fingers of her right hand were plucking furiously at her nipple, rubbing and twisting the hardened peak.
William’s cock felt ready to burst, and she hadn’t even touched him.
He pulled away from her, and she moaned, her hand coming down to grasp at his head, to keep him there. “Don’t stop,” she murmured.
Pushing two fingers inside of her, he dropped his head back down and closed his lips around her clit. She bucked up at the first touch of his tongue to her hardened bud, and William thrust his hips against the sofa, craving friction, contact of any kind.
He licked and sucked, his fingers moving in and out of her pussy, curling up to stroke her inner walls, trying to find the spot that would make her scream.
Buffy kept one hand on his head, alternately scratching lightly at his scalp and pulling at his hair. Her other hand still cupped her breast, and she was biting her bottom lip so hard it had turned white.
William sped up the movements of his tongue and could tell from the tension in her body that she was close, that it wouldn’t be long before she came. He thrust again against the sofa, his erection so hard it almost hurt. He longed for her touch, imagined how it would feel to have her mouth wrapped around him, her hands cupping his balls, pulling, touching, licking, stroking.
When she arched against his mouth, and he felt her walls begin to pulse around his fingers, he drew his head back and watched her come. The sight was too much for him; he felt his own body shudder in release.
They lay together panting, until Buffy raised her head. “Did you just…?”
“Um.” He looked down sheepishly, half expecting laughter. “Yeah.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Sorry.”
“No! No sorry. It’s actually… kind of hot.” She grinned. “Shower?
William smirked, liking the way her mind worked. He nodded. “Shower.”
***
“So, you’ll come?” William asked. He turned to his side and propped his head up on his elbow, smiling at Buffy. She was sitting cross-legged in the shade of the large tree at the back of her yard, and had a sketchbook propped open on her lap, her pencil moving furiously across the page.
“I don’t know,” she replied, not looking up from her drawing. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. Not when we’re trying to keep this under wraps.”
“No one has to know,” he said, pulling up handfuls of grass. “I’ll be good as gold-no naughty touching, or even naughty looking. Cross my heart.”
“There’ll be swimsuits involved.” She smiled. “So you might want to rethink that last one.”
William sat up, squinting a little when the sun hit his eyes. “That’s a yes, then? You’ll come?”
She set her sketchbook to one side with a sigh, and drew her knees up to her chest. “I guess. Jenny’s been asking too, so…”
“Excellent.” William let out a whoop of excitement and tackled her back into the grass, landing a kiss on her mouth before she could stop him. He sat back and caught sight of the pages of her sketchbook fluttering in the wind. He snagged it up and flicked to the back and her most recent drawing: one of himself reclined on the ground, a cheeky half-smile on his face.
“Hey!” Buffy said, trying to take the book back. “It’s not done yet.”
“Looks done to me. It’s really good, love.” He met her eyes. “Really.”
“I like drawing you.” She reached out and traced the hollows of his cheekbones, the curve of his lower lip. “Lots of interesting angles. I shouldn’t, you know.”
“Shouldn’t what?”
“Draw you.” She took the sketchbook from him and ripped out the page.
“Why not?” William asked, though he thought he had figured out the reason.
“Evidence,” Buffy replied. “We may have decided that this relationship feels right, but for anyone on the outside, it’s wrong. Illegal even. If anyone finds this…”
She moved to tear up the sketch, but he reached out and stayed her hand. “Don’t,” he said, inwardly thrilled that she had acknowledged the thing between them as a relationship, and at the same time dismayed that she was about to tear up her drawing. “Lock it away under your bed or in the attic, but don’t rip it up.”
“You’re just a big softy at heart, aren’t you?” She smiled at him and, instead of ripping the piece of paper in half, she slipped it back inside the sketchbook. “All right. No destroying of the artwork. You win.”
He winked at her. “I always do.”
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: NC-17
Chapter Word Count: 3,685
Beta: ssddgr thepuddinhead
Summary: Buffy Summers is the hot teacher everyone lusts over, William Giles her student. He’s thrilled to have been roped into helping her out over the summer; she’s just trying to fight her attraction to him.
Notes: It's been a while and for that I apologise. Life's been hectic and it's not calming down, so I can't promise when the next update will be. I might have waited until I had a few chapters ready but a couple of readers from Elysian Fields have been in contact asking about this fic so I wanted to get a chapter posted.
Massive thanks as always to ssddgr for beta-reading this, and thank you to thepuddinhead for also looking over this chapter for me!
Chapter Six
William awoke to the unfamiliar sensation of a warm body pressed to his side. In a sudden rush of memory, the night’s events filled his mind, and he turned to see that Buffy lay next to him, fast asleep and with her mouth slightly open.
He shifted on the mattress, the movement causing it to dip slightly in the middle. He watched as Buffy murmured something in her sleep before blinking her eyes open. She frowned, and he smiled down at her, still giddy from everything that had happened the previous day and during the night.
“Hi,” he said and bent down to steal a kiss from her lips.
Eyes wide, Buffy drew her head back and then sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. “Oh my God,” she said, scrambling backwards as though burned. “Oh no. Oh, God.”
“Buffy?” William asked, a sinking feeling filling his chest and weighing him down. He lifted his hand to touch her face but dropped it when she flinched, her gaze fixed on the sheets.
He watched her take a couple of deep breaths before she looked at him. “You should go.”
“Buffy-”
“Go! Get out!” Keeping the sheet wrapped around herself, she got out of bed and bent to pick up a robe from the nearby chair. She slipped into it and tied the sash around her waist, then turned to face him. “This was a mistake. Go home, please.”
William stared at her for several moments, his mind going blank, as he tried to think of what to say to change her mind. Nothing came to him, humiliation at her reaction spreading through him, his cheeks staining with red. He sighed, gathered his clothes from the floor and slipped into them as quickly as possible.
“For what it’s worth,” he began, once he’d buckled his jeans and pulled his boots on, his eyes averted. Buffy was standing by the window, her head turned away, but he knew she was listening. “For what it’s worth, last night was amazing. I don’t regret a thing.”
“I do,” she replied, her voice quiet but the words harsh enough to cut glass. “Please go.”
Blinking past the sudden stinging of his eyes, William turned to leave. He hurried along the corridor and only stopped to pick up his t-shirt from where it had fallen on the stairs.
***
“William!”
He ignored the voice, turning over on his bed to face the wall.
“William? Come downstairs, please!”
With a roll of his eyes, he sat up and pulled on a shirt. He knew that if he didn’t, Jenny would come looking for him and, well-no one should have to enter a teenaged boy’s room unless they absolutely had to.
He left the room, blinking in the bright light of the hallway. It had been three days since he’d had sex with Buffy. Three days since she’d rejected him and he’d come home humiliated and angry. He’d spent most of that time sulking in his room, occasionally wanking when the memories of the night they’d spent together filtered into his consciousness. Mostly, though, he’d sulked.
William wasn’t a cowardly person, but he couldn’t muster up the courage to go back over to Buffy’s house and demand an explanation.
He’d turned the events over and over in his mind-both the sexy parts leading to the aforementioned wanking-but he thought about the other moments, too. The flash of her eyes when they’d fought in her kitchen; the quirk to her lips when she’d seen the Chinese food; her elation after she’d come; the quiet cuddle time afterwards.
“William, are you listening?”
He shook his head and blinked a couple of times. “Uh, sorry. What did you say?”
His stepmother sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “Honestly, you’re getting spacier by the day. I need you to run an errand for me.”
“Oh.” William frowned. He hadn’t left the house since he’d come back from Buffy’s, and the thought of going outside sounded suddenly appealing. “Sure. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m helping organise a fundraiser with my tai-chi group from the gym,” Jenny said. “I’ve got some promotional stuff I need to drop round at a couple of the other girls’ houses.” She beckoned him through to the kitchen, where two shoebox-sized boxes sat on the counter. “This one needs to go to Alison-she lives at the top end of Blossomfield Avenue-and this one is for Buffy and, well, you know where she lives; you’ve been helping her all summer.”
William’s heart simultaneously lurched and began to beat faster at the mention of her name, and he swallowed. Jenny wanted him to take something over to Buffy’s house, and how could he say no? If he did, Jenny would want to know why, and he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth.
With a sigh, he picked up the boxes and asked her to write down the other address.
***
William didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when he arrived at Buffy’s house and she didn’t answer the bell. Figuring she’d know what the box was, he set it down on her doorstep before trudging down the front path, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He had just made it to the sidewalk, when a flash of movement in an upstairs window caught his eye. He turned and saw a whirl of blonde hair dart away from the glass. The sight of her filled him with happiness and anger, a confusing combination, and he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
It was time to be pro-active. No more sulking in his bedroom, no more hiding away.
He was going to win her over, and he was going to start right now. Glancing up at her bedroom window, he realised he could no longer see her standing there. Whether that meant she’d be down in a moment to confront him, he didn’t know.
William hurried to the side of the house and lifted the latch on the gate that led to the back yard, thankful that it was unlocked. He hadn’t had cause to use this path before, always being welcome to go through the house itself.
Once in the back yard, he unwound the garden hose from its wheel, connected it to the tap and went back down the weedy path to the front yard.
This is a stupid idea, he thought, once there. She’ll think I’m an idiot. Who shows up unannounced and randomly starts washing someone’s car? And what kind of weirdo thinks a car wash is romantic?
Mentally shrugging, he squeezed the handle of the hosepipe and set the spray going onto the car. It was then that he realised he had nothing to clean the car with-a huge flaw in this hastily constructed plan.
He sent another glance up to the window and saw Buffy’s shadowy figure peering out. He couldn’t see the expression on her face or tell anything from her posture, but he felt defiant nonetheless and pulled his shirt off.
Moments later, it was sodden, and he was using it to wipe down the car, but he only succeeded in smearing the dirt and smudges around. Great plan, William.
He didn’t stop what he was doing or even slow his movements when he heard the front door open. He felt her watching him for a few moments.
“William? What the hell are you doing?” Her voice came from just beside him, and he jumped, the garden hose falling from his grasp and causing water to spray across his legs.
“Cleaning your car,” he replied, picking up the hosepipe and clicking it off. “It was dirty.”
“I can see that,” she said, leaning forward to examine the new smudges that his not-so-genius plan had created. “Why?”
“Wanted to talk to you,” William said, meeting her gaze, “and you didn’t answer the door, even though you were home. Thought I’d make myself useful and try to entice you outside.” He put his hands on his waist, fingers splayed across tight, defined abs.
Buffy swallowed and had the good grace to look ashamed, despite the blush that stained her cheeks. “I thought I made myself clear the other day,” she whispered. “You know, after-”
“Yeah, clear as mud,” William said. “We had sex, more than once I might add, and then you kicked me out. Right clear, that is.”
“Shh!” Buffy said, glancing around worriedly. “Come inside.”
William grinned and set the hose down on the ground. “Glad to.”
***
Instead of leading him to the kitchen, as he’d expected, Buffy had him follow her into the living room. She sat down on the sofa, and he stood next to the big armchair for a couple of moments before kicking off his boots and starting to unbuckle his jeans.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked.
“Got my jeans all wet,” he said, sliding them down his legs. “Don’t want to ruin your furniture.” Clad now only in black boxer shorts, he sat down and looked at her expectantly, his expression softening and voice turning serious. “We need to talk about what happened the other day.”
“I can’t-” she said. “I can’t concentrate with you being all half-naked. You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Would you feel more comfortable if you were half-naked too?” he asked, with a grin.
“No!”
William shrugged. “Just checking.” He sighed, and reached across for one of the big throw cushions on the sofa, which he hugged to himself. “Better? Could borrow something of yours, I suppose, but I don’t think any of your frilly skirts or dresses would suit me.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Buffy said and smiled. A beat later, and the smile fell from her face, a frown replacing it. She shook her head and looked to be berating herself, before she met his eyes. “You’re right, though. We need to talk.”
“Yeah.”
“What happened the other day… it shouldn’t have,” she said.
“Why?” William demanded.
“You even need to ask that? You’re seventeen, Will. I’m your teacher, for God’s sake.”
“That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me,” he said.
“It was a mistake,” Buffy replied.
“A mistake you made three times in a row?”
“I let my hormones get the better of me,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I’m sorry, Will, but it shouldn’t have happened.”
“You’re right; it shouldn’t have. But it did, and you know it wasn’t just hormones. We have something, Buffy.” he stood up, dropping the cushion on the floor, and knelt down in front of her. “You can’t deny there’s something between us.”
“But-”
“Shh.” He touched the side of her face. “This is about you and me. We could have something good here, and who cares about the other stuff?”
“We should care,” she whispered. “If anyone found out…”
“They won’t,” William said. “Not if we’re careful.”
“Will… If we do this, no one can know.”
“I know.” He felt elation begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach.
“Not even your friends.” She paused. “Especially not your friends.”
“I know.” He took her hands in his. “Buffy, I’m not taking this lightly.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, which ended on a laugh, and squeezed his hands. “Okay. We’re doing this. Okay.”
“You won’t regret it,” William said, then frowned, his words bringing to mind what Buffy had said to him the morning after they’d slept together. “Can I ask something? That morning, you sent me away because you were afraid, right? Not because…” he trailed off. “Not because I was… it was-bad?”
“No!” She sat forward, bringing her mouth close to his. The scent of her filled him and made his mouth water. “God, no. It was wonderful. Really. You’re right; I was afraid. I woke up and I saw you, and my first thought was to kiss you, but then I panicked. I was scared of what had happened between us, because of, you know, the unusual situation. I’m still scared. But… I’m sorry. Sorry I got all bitchy-Buffy. You didn’t deserve that.”
“S’all right. I forgive you,” he said teasingly.
“Good,” she replied, before closing the gap between their mouths and kissing him, hard.
William groaned at the taste of her-chocolate, he thought, and something else, something sharp and sinful, fruity and sweet all at once.
Buffy broke the kiss to pull her summer dress up over her head, and his eyes widened when he saw what she was wearing beneath: a silky, pale-pink bra with matching panties, the sides tied together in a bow. The material was thin and sheer; he could see the buds of her nipples straining against the silk and her dark strip of hair beneath the knickers.
“You dressed up for me,” he said with a grin.
“Shut up.”
He cupped her breasts, the satiny material and the weight of them in his hands feeling wonderful. He pressed lightly on her shoulder, backing her up along the sofa, until she lay with her head over the armrest, hair falling down almost to the floor and legs hitched up, so he could perch between them.
William touched her breasts again, thumbing her nipples through her bra, loving the way they puckered and hardened at his touch. “I love your boobs,” he said, delighting in the way they moved beneath his hands when she laughed at his words.
“Every man loves boobs,” she said, and tilted her head back with a gasp when he closed his mouth around her nipple.
“Yeah, but yours are especially lovely,” he replied, resting his chin on her chest and looking up at her with a grin. “All round and firm but still nice and bouncy. And these,” he said, rubbing one nipple with his thumb while lightly biting the other through her bra. “I really like these.”
Buffy laughed. “I didn’t know sex could be fun.”
William stopped what he was doing and looked up at her again. “You didn’t?”
“No. Well, yeah, it always feels good, but I’ve never laughed with a guy like this before. And the one time I did, it was because… well-” She raised her hand and waggled her little finger in the air. “I couldn’t help myself. You should have seen it.”
“Poor guy,” William said. “No complaints in that department for me, I hope.”
“Nope, none at all.” She smiled, and then frowned when he didn’t move. “You gonna get back to what you were doing?”
“Bossy. I like it.” William ran his hands down her sides and then back up again, before curling his fingers inwards and tickling her.
She writhed beneath him, laughter bubbling up and spilling over. “Stop, stop!”
He didn’t; his hands moved furiously across her stomach, and he delighted every time he felt her flesh jump, every time she giggled throatily. “Say the magic words.”
“Stooooop!” Buffy said through breathless laughter. “I ca-I can’t-breathe!”
“Say the magic words,” William said again, laughing himself when Buffy kicked her legs out and dug her fingers into his sides, tickling him in retaliation. “Say, William Giles is a Sex God and I can’t wait to have his cock inside me again!”
“I’m not saying that!”
“Say it,” William said again, tickling her sides.
“All right, all right! WilliamGilesisasexgodandIcan’twaittohavehiscockinsidemeagain!”
He stilled his hands and tilted his head to one side. “Hmm, not sure I got that. Maybe I should tickle you again?”
“Don’t you dare.” She began to scowl, but smiled instead.
“I think I might.” He slid his hand down her stomach and past the ties of her panties, to the curve of her thigh. “Might tickle you here.” He cupped her mound and pressed the heel of his hand hard against her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she repeated, her head falling back across the arm of the sofa again. “Yeah, do that.”
He rubbed her through the silky material and felt how wet she was. Sliding down her body, he nipped lightly at her stomach and then touched his tongue to her through her panties. The taste of her almost made his eyes roll back in his head, and he shuddered.
Pulling at the ties on the sides of her underwear, he let the scrap of silk slide off her like butter. He’d seen her pussy before but not like this, not spread wet and wanting beneath him, glistening with her juices and oh-so-ready for his mouth.
William kissed the inside of her thigh before licking her hard, bottom to top. She gasped, and he did it again, a little slower this time, savouring the moment. He purposefully avoided her clit, though he could see it hard and pulsing. Instead, he spread her folds with his fingers and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her slit, before delving his tongue inside and curling it upwards.
Buffy yelled his name, and he took a moment to look up the length of her body. A more erotic sight William had never seen; she lay spread across the sofa with her head thrown backwards, her long blonde hair trailing the floor. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open and her chest was heaving with short, sharp gasps for air.
She had pulled down the cups of her bra, and the fingers of her right hand were plucking furiously at her nipple, rubbing and twisting the hardened peak.
William’s cock felt ready to burst, and she hadn’t even touched him.
He pulled away from her, and she moaned, her hand coming down to grasp at his head, to keep him there. “Don’t stop,” she murmured.
Pushing two fingers inside of her, he dropped his head back down and closed his lips around her clit. She bucked up at the first touch of his tongue to her hardened bud, and William thrust his hips against the sofa, craving friction, contact of any kind.
He licked and sucked, his fingers moving in and out of her pussy, curling up to stroke her inner walls, trying to find the spot that would make her scream.
Buffy kept one hand on his head, alternately scratching lightly at his scalp and pulling at his hair. Her other hand still cupped her breast, and she was biting her bottom lip so hard it had turned white.
William sped up the movements of his tongue and could tell from the tension in her body that she was close, that it wouldn’t be long before she came. He thrust again against the sofa, his erection so hard it almost hurt. He longed for her touch, imagined how it would feel to have her mouth wrapped around him, her hands cupping his balls, pulling, touching, licking, stroking.
When she arched against his mouth, and he felt her walls begin to pulse around his fingers, he drew his head back and watched her come. The sight was too much for him; he felt his own body shudder in release.
They lay together panting, until Buffy raised her head. “Did you just…?”
“Um.” He looked down sheepishly, half expecting laughter. “Yeah.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Sorry.”
“No! No sorry. It’s actually… kind of hot.” She grinned. “Shower?
William smirked, liking the way her mind worked. He nodded. “Shower.”
***
“So, you’ll come?” William asked. He turned to his side and propped his head up on his elbow, smiling at Buffy. She was sitting cross-legged in the shade of the large tree at the back of her yard, and had a sketchbook propped open on her lap, her pencil moving furiously across the page.
“I don’t know,” she replied, not looking up from her drawing. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. Not when we’re trying to keep this under wraps.”
“No one has to know,” he said, pulling up handfuls of grass. “I’ll be good as gold-no naughty touching, or even naughty looking. Cross my heart.”
“There’ll be swimsuits involved.” She smiled. “So you might want to rethink that last one.”
William sat up, squinting a little when the sun hit his eyes. “That’s a yes, then? You’ll come?”
She set her sketchbook to one side with a sigh, and drew her knees up to her chest. “I guess. Jenny’s been asking too, so…”
“Excellent.” William let out a whoop of excitement and tackled her back into the grass, landing a kiss on her mouth before she could stop him. He sat back and caught sight of the pages of her sketchbook fluttering in the wind. He snagged it up and flicked to the back and her most recent drawing: one of himself reclined on the ground, a cheeky half-smile on his face.
“Hey!” Buffy said, trying to take the book back. “It’s not done yet.”
“Looks done to me. It’s really good, love.” He met her eyes. “Really.”
“I like drawing you.” She reached out and traced the hollows of his cheekbones, the curve of his lower lip. “Lots of interesting angles. I shouldn’t, you know.”
“Shouldn’t what?”
“Draw you.” She took the sketchbook from him and ripped out the page.
“Why not?” William asked, though he thought he had figured out the reason.
“Evidence,” Buffy replied. “We may have decided that this relationship feels right, but for anyone on the outside, it’s wrong. Illegal even. If anyone finds this…”
She moved to tear up the sketch, but he reached out and stayed her hand. “Don’t,” he said, inwardly thrilled that she had acknowledged the thing between them as a relationship, and at the same time dismayed that she was about to tear up her drawing. “Lock it away under your bed or in the attic, but don’t rip it up.”
“You’re just a big softy at heart, aren’t you?” She smiled at him and, instead of ripping the piece of paper in half, she slipped it back inside the sketchbook. “All right. No destroying of the artwork. You win.”
He winked at her. “I always do.”