Master Class, ch. 3/3; PWP/NC17; Wesley/Willow

Feb 03, 2006 10:40

Title: Master Class
Author: Eurydice
Pairing: Wesley/Willow
Rating: NC17
Summary: Wesley dreams of power. And Willow. And...other stuff.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Which is probably for the better, because I'd probably never let Wesley out of my bed.
Spoilers: Set in BtVS S3
Author's Note: Thank you to psubrat for the beta, and to sadbhyl and mydeira for reading it and telling me it didn't suck. :)
Warning: Contains spanking, mild rimming, roleplay.

Story begins here



Wesley had to blink twice before the import of that single word sank in. Bitter disappointment washed through him at her use of the safe word, followed by a flash of anger that he would be frustrated yet again. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though, he chastised himself. More than once, they’d danced along the edge of their little roleplay, continuing in vicarious disregard for consequences.

Until now.

He swallowed, trying to push down the lump that had formed in his throat. “Well,” he started, and was shocked at how ragged his voice was, “that was…I suppose I…”

He had no idea what to say that wouldn’t come off as completely pathetic.

When he tried to rise from his seat on the couch, however, Willow grabbed his arm. “Why did you kiss me?” she asked again.

A sinking feeling in his stomach accompanied the tensing of his muscles. Now that the game was over, he felt oddly exposed sitting here naked in front of her. “I believe I already answered that question,” he said.

“But you said…” Her voice trailed off, every question and every answer going through her mind flitting across her face. Wesley had never known a woman to be so incapable of hiding what she truly felt.

Gently, he took her hand and removed it from his arm. “We should get dressed,” he said. “I’m sure any excuse you’ve made to be out tonight will be wearing thin by this time.”

She still wasn’t moving out of his way. “You want me to go?”

“You said the safe word. That means our session is over.”

“No, it means I didn’t want to have to pretend any more. It just felt…wrong.”

Her words hurt, but he steeled his jaw to prevent her from seeing just how much. “I’m sorry you didn’t get as much satisfaction from the fantasy,” he said. “I promise you, I shan’t mention it ever again.”

This time when he tried to rise, she shoved at his chest, knocking him off-balance so that he fell back into the couch. In a flash, she was up, on his lap, straddling his semi-hard cock. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Her nails dug into his biceps as she began to squirm against his returning erection. “I don’t want to stop. I just don’t want…not to be us any more.”

His brows shot up. This was a possibility he hadn’t even considered.

“And honestly…” She was still talking. Wesley got the distinct impression that he’d missed something in his sudden realization. “…I don’t think that’s what you want either.”

And then she was kissing him. Willow. Kissing him. Any last thought of arguing fled.

Their lips parted almost immediately, each hungry for the taste of the other. Tongues dipped in, explored every hot crevice, tangled and teased only to start all over again when one threatened to slide away. One arm scooped around her back, crushing her more tightly against his chest, and Willow answered by dragging her hard nipples across his heated skin. It took sliding his free hand down to her bottom and feeling the fire still radiating there from his earlier blows to drag Wesley free from their ravenous kisses.

“Lay down,” he instructed, letting her go.

Eagerly, Willow hopped from his lap, but when she started to sprawl on her back along the length of the couch, Wesley stopped her with a hand on her ankle.

“On your stomach.”

This time, her movements were more hesitant, eyes glued to his features as she rolled over. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Trust me.”

He couldn’t resist touching the pink splotches that remained from the spanking, rubbing the tender areas over and over until he saw the last of the tautness dissipate from her shoulders. Then he stretched out so that he hovered along her length, bracing himself on his fists as the tip of his cock skimmed along the crease of her ass.

“I didn’t imagine this,” he murmured. He nipped along her shoulder, then went back over it with his tongue, the salt in her skin making his mouth water for more. “How could I? I’m mocked---.”

“Don’t.” Twisting beneath him, Willow met his eyes with more than sympathy. “Remember what you said? That this isn’t about explanations?”

Wesley chuckled. “And who exactly is the student here?” She wiggled her bottom, and the slick slide of his cock along the heat made him groan. “Perhaps you are a wicked girl,” he whispered.

He didn’t wait for her to respond. Sliding down her body, he licked and nibbled along her spine, not stopping even when he reached the soft swell of her ass. The heat beneath his tongue lessened his bites, but every time Willow moaned, he sucked at a new patch, swallowing down another fraction of the fire until it burned more brightly inside his flesh than he could have envisioned.

When his tongue probed the valley between her buttocks, he felt her stiffen beneath his touch. “It’s all right,” he soothed. He didn’t linger, but traced downward until he found the tight pucker he’d been seeking all along.

This time, she pressed her hips into the cushions of the couch, as if to try and escape him.

He pulled back, bending to lick along the lower curve of a fleshy cheek, skimming across the top of her thighs to reach the other side of her body. “Don’t be nervous,” Wesley whispered. “I want this. Please. Let me do this, Willow.”

Her intake of breath made him pause. Her protests never came, though, and eventually, her ass unclenched, her hips relaxing as she resumed her original position.

Diving back along the crease, he found her tight opening again, circling it with his tongue more slowly this time. He slipped an arm beneath her stomach, curling around her body in order to lift her up onto her hands and knees, to open her up, make it easier to delve even deeper. This close, he could smell her arousal. He could almost taste it. And every time he dipped along the pucker, Willow spread her legs open just a little bit further, making the scents even stronger.

Wesley slid a hand between her thighs, stroking blindly along her mound in a matching rhythm to his mouth. Her muscles quivered, and when he finally pressed his tongue past her last defense, his fingers sought their own heat, parting her outer lips to glide slickly deep inside her pussy.

Willow cried out, her back bowing as she ground back against Wesley’s face and hands. For a moment, he thought he might have hurt her, but the slow keening that was coming from her throat convinced him otherwise, spurring him to redouble his efforts. He decided he adored that particular sound; he was going to do everything in his power to have it repeated.

Her inner muscles kept squeezing around his fingers, encouraging him to add a third to his gentle thrusts. When his fourth accidentally brushed across her clit, she bucked back, momentarily breaking the seal of his mouth.

“I would think you enjoyed that,” he chuckled.

When she twisted again to look at him, she was grinning. “You think?”

“And this?” Deliberately, he pulled his fingers out and slid his hand beneath her so that his thumb was pressed more firmly to her clit.

Willow gasped.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Though he bent his head, Wesley was prevented from reaching her ass again by her hand coming back and down to touch his cheek.

“Can I…ask you a question?” Her smile had faded by the time he looked up, her eyes dark. It prompted him to slide back up her body, abandoning the heat of her pussy, the dark depths of her ass, to stretch alongside her and pull her into his arms.

“I wanted to do that,” he assured. “Do you have any idea how arousing it is to see how wet it makes you?”

“I know. I…wanted to ask you about something else.” Taking a deep breath, she pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him to straddle his hips so that his cock was coated in her juices. Her hair tumbled across her cheek as she braced herself against his chest. “Do you…want me?”

His cock twitched. He knew she could feel it by the slow smile that crept across her face.

“I want you,” Willow murmured, not waiting for his verbal answer. She slid down, matching torso to torso, ghosting her lips across his. Her breath was sweet and hot and made his cock twitch again. Of course, that could’ve been the heat from her pussy as well. Wesley wasn’t entirely sure he was coherent enough to even recite the Greek alphabet at that particular moment.

“You had me,” he replied. “And you made me stop.”

“Because I want more.” Her head turned just enough so that their cheeks touched and it was impossible to see her eyes as she spoke. “I want you to be my first.” She pressed her hips against his fractionally harder.

It was almost as startling as hearing her utter the safe word. Stiffening, Wesley grasped her waist and forced her to pull away so that he could meet her gaze. Though he wasn’t certain he knew what he would find there, it definitely wasn’t the desire that reflected in her eyes.

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“Deadly.” Her lips quirked. “Which probably isn’t the smartest thing for me to say on a Hellmouth.”

“But…if you think that’s what you need in order to climax, it’s not. I was quite looking forward to doing that by…other means.”

“And that would be wonderful,” she said. “But…I want more.”

“Willow---.”

“Please, Wesley.” She sat up, resting all her weight on his hips, and as such, on his cock. “All those things I said before---in the middle of everything and at the end? I wasn’t just making that up. Honestly, I couldn’t. I’m a left brain gal all the way.”

“That doesn’t mean---.”

“It does!” Frustration sharpened her tone, and she slid back enough so that she straddled his thighs instead. Her fingers dipped between their bodies and circled the glistening head of his cock, over and over and over again until he was dizzy from the sensations. Wesley had to squeeze his eyes shut in order not to act out in haste.

“Please,” she said again. Her voice was disembodied, floating somewhere above him, begging him just as assuredly as she had at the height of their little roleplay. And then it came again, softer. More controlled. “Please, sir.”

His reaction was unavoidable. Bolting upright, Wesley curled his arms around her waist, tugging her back to him, knocking her slightly off-balance as he devoured her mouth. Willow clung to his shoulders, her legs gripping his hips, and then they were rising, moving, floating through the flat, hands and lips and tongues and teeth ravaging the other’s until the edge of his bed had them toppling back onto the firm mattress. They separated then, but only for a moment, coming back together with a clash that had his head spinning, his skin searing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to take it slow. This would be her first time, and he’d read enough to know that it could be considerably less pleasurable for the woman than it was for the male. The last thing he desired was to hurt Willow when she had already done so much for him.

So he concentrated elsewhere for the moment.

On her mouth, ripe and luscious and oh so eager to please.

On the tender spot at the base of her throat, where the heat seemed to pool, taunting him with reminders of how hot her ass had been from his spankings, how warm his palms had remained even afterward.

On the taut buds of her nipples, circling them with his tongue before drawing them hard into his mouth, his teeth biting at the sensitive tips so that her fingers clawed at the back of his head in order to keep him at her breast.

He parted her legs with his knee, trapping a single thigh between his, so that he had room to dip his hand down and resume the careful explorations he’d begun earlier on the couch. His fingers came away slick with her fluids, but before he inserted any inside her, Wesley brought his hand up to his mouth, meeting her eyes as he sucked away all traces of her arousal.

Willow was panting, every breath brushing her puckered nipples across his chest. “Is the point of all this to make me beg?” she asked breathlessly. “Because you have no idea how close I am to that.”

He captured her mouth in a hard kiss. “The point is to taste as much of you as I can,” he replied. “I’m not about to abandon that simply because you can writhe here in my bed so prettily.”

“That’s because you’re driving me crazy.”

He smiled. “Then I can only say that it’s about time I wasn’t the only one going mad.”

She slid her hands down his back, letting her nails drag along the way, before settling around the firm curve of his ass. “Can I beg anyway?” she breathed. “I’m so ready for this, I’m going to bust and then you’ll have little Willow bits all over the place.”

“Well, we mustn’t have that,” Wesley murmured. Reaching behind him, he fumbled with his nightstand drawer, looking for the box of unopened condoms he had inside.

“If you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for,” Willow said, “you don’t have to. I’ve been on the pill since I was fifteen.” At his raised eyebrows, she blushed. “Thanks to my mom and her longstanding feminism, I’m a woman in charge of my own body.” A wicked glint appeared in her eyes, and her fingers trailed along his chest. “Except, you know, when I let you be in charge of my body.”

His chuckle was stifled by the quick fusion of their mouths, his mind lost again as he stretched out atop her slim form. The head of his cock brushed against her coarse curls for only the moment it took her to part her legs, and then it was gliding along the same wetness he’d already sampled.

He knew how far he could thrust before it would be painful to her; he’d felt the thin barrier when he explored her depths with his fingers. Moving so slowly that he wondered if time had stopped, Wesley entered her pussy, stopping when it was just the head of his cock inside her before pulling out again. A little at a time, each stroke in took him just a trifle deeper, allowing her time to get used to the penetration. He never stopped kissing her. Never stopped touching. If she was focused on pleasure elsewhere, he reasoned, she would be less likely to feel the discomfort when he finally broke through.

Too quickly, it reached the point where he knew he would have to press harder. For a moment, he hesitated, but when Willow dug her nails into his ass, biting down on his tongue to goad him into continuing his kiss, reason fled. Wesley thrust, a quick, sharp stroke that had his long cock sheathed completely inside her, and moaned from the tight muscles constricting around him.

Willow stiffened, whimpering against his mouth. When he lifted up to look at her, her eyes were squeezed shut, a look of intense concentration furrowing her brow.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Though he whispered, it sounded altogether too loud in the close quarters of his bedroom.

“Just…don’t move. Not yet.”

Her request was simple to follow. The sheer heat rolling off her, surrounding his cock, sticking her skin to his, had Wesley convinced he would come if he did move.

Willow’s hands disappeared from his bottom, coming back up his body so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes remained closed, but she closed the distance between their mouths with unerring accuracy, kissing him with a slow hunger that he couldn’t deny mirroring. It stretched on, with neither of their bodies moving elsewhere, until the height of his urgency to come began to ebb. All he was left with was the desire to melt into her soft flesh.

“Now,” she breathed when they finally parted. His eyes searched hers, but any sign of her discomfort was gone. And then she smiled, and the fire reignited inside his belly.

Just as slowly as he had entered her the first time, Wesley began to withdraw, letting her adjust to the changes. There were no more whimpers, but her body remained tense, even when he began a gentle rhythm of in and out. His mouth grazed along her temple, tracing the sharp line of her jaw, savoring every scent and every taste he encountered along the way.

“You can go faster,” he heard her whisper.

Actually, Wesley didn’t think he could. Much more speed or force, and it would be over far too quickly. This was something he wished to make last as long as possible.

Still, he managed to speed up slightly, every stroke burying himself within her heat, tumbling into the force of it just a little bit more. He angled enough to hit her clit at full penetration, drawing out little breathy squeaks from Willow that encouraged him to continue, but when her hot hands started to prove too much on his sensitive skin, Wesley pushed himself up, reaching behind to grab her wrists and twist her arms up and over her head.

Her eyes followed the movement, and he wondered if holding her so was taking the control just a little too far.

Until she looked back into his face. And he saw the excitement glittering in her eyes.

His strokes grew rougher of their own volition, his balls slapping against the curve of her ass. Willow’s pulse echoed all around him, into his chest, against his palms, through his tongue as he bent to suck at her neck. She was as lost in the pleasure as he was, repeating a single affirmative over and over again beneath her breath.

Wesley knew she was climaxing when her pussy suddenly clamped around his cock, tiny undulations rippling up and down it as he continued to thrust in and out. She cried out, arching her head away, forcing him to abandon the succulent skin of her throat to focus on finishing himself.

It didn’t take long.

The heat and the sweat and the smell of her pussy and the power of the small body he had controlled beneath him drove him up to the edge, teetering with violent thrusts he could no longer control. But it was a single breathed word, whispered in his ear as he descended to attack her neck once again, that pushed him over, had him crashing and falling through wave after wave of rippling pleasure he’d thought would never be his.

“Sir…”

Wesley jerked, spasming as he shot once, twice, more times than his brain could process, deep inside Willow’s pussy. Letting go of her wrists, he was only half-aware of her arms coming back around him, even less so of her mouth kissing and licking at his sweat-slicked neck. All he could see were brilliant flashes of red. All he could hear was the thundering of his heart. All he could feel was the diminishing tremors wracking his lean form.

And then all he could sense was Willow.

Suddenly aware of how heavily he rested atop her, Wesley pulled up, away, out, wincing at the aftershocks shooting through his too-sensitive cock as he pulled free of her heat. Carefully, he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his fist with reluctant difficulty, in order to look down at her sex-flushed body in awe.

None of his dreams had been like this. As vivid as they had been, none could even compare. What was worse, her rationalization that the fantasy would make the desire go away had been completely erroneous. If anything, he wanted her even more now.

He lifted his eyes to hers, minutely afraid of what he was going to find there.

Her lids were heavy, and her mouth curved into a sated smile. “That beats a battery-operated friend any day,” she teased.

In spite of his trepidation, Wesley smiled. He began tracing filigrees of nonsense upon the flat expanse of her tummy, desperate for something diversionary, something less intense than what they’d just experienced. He was rewarded with her light giggle.

“That tickles.”

His hand fell away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. It’s a good kind of tickling.” She paused. She was silent long enough to draw his gaze back up to her face. “Unless you mean you’re sorry about…everything else,” she added hesitantly. “You’re not…are you?”

“No, of course not.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, but before he could go on, she was snuggling into his side, sighing contentedly.

“Good. ‘Cause my brain’s more than a little melty. All I want to think about right now is sleep.”

He laid back, making it easier for her nuzzle against him, stroking the delicate line of her spine. Sleep was sounding like an excellent option to him as well, but as his eyes drifted closed, Wesley couldn’t help but wonder just what the evening’s events were going to mean for the both of them in the long run. This wasn’t an ideal situation, and odds were very good that it would never be repeated. While the thought of that left him more than a little sad, the euphoria of what he’d been given eclipsed that.

He fell asleep before he could dwell on it further.

* * *

Monday morning found Wesley standing outside the library doors, shirt collar stiff under his chin, his translation tucked safely beneath his arm. He could do this. Trying to hide was childish and silly; the fact that it was also completely ineffective was no small measure to his appearance, either. Where he’d hoped to avoid his problem, his problem had shown up on his doorstep with an eager smile and little regard for his fear. It was time to accept the inevitable and return to his duty.

He was mildly disappointed when he found only Giles, but it made his feigned indignance at the young people’s intrusion much easier to maintain. They were able to slip into an uneasy routine, just as they had before Wesley’s unfortunate dreams, and argued over the translation’s intent for the better part of the morning. It was the tolling of the lunch bell that brought the end to Wesley’s newfound peace.

“And I’m telling you,” Buffy said as she pushed open the library doors, “there is no way it isn’t a conspiracy. I mean, did you see how insipid the spring colors are? Who’s supposed to look good in those?”

Wesley looked up at the sound of her voice, but he saw only Willow, nodding along in silent support. When Buffy noticed him at the research table, her comment was quick.

“Looks like little Sheba’s back.” Hopping up on the checkout counter, she grinned. “C’mon, you missed us, didn’t you? Admit it.”

It wasn’t a question that required an answer, but he smiled anyway, watching warily as Willow slipped into the chair opposite him. He hadn’t seen her since Saturday morning. They had slept the night through, and when they’d awakened, she’d slipped out before he could suggest breakfast. Something about her mother expecting her home early. Wesley had absolutely no idea how she regarded their evening together.

But at least his dreams had subsided. She had been correct about that, after all.

“You look rested,” she chirped, opening up one of her textbooks. “Get a lot of sleep while you were gone?”

He regarded her carefully, curious about her intent. “Yes,” he replied. “Thank you.”

A quick blush was followed by the sudden dip of her eyes, and the moment was over, gone before he could reach out and grasp it. Giles’ intrusion and Buffy’s presence made it impossible to press, but surprisingly, as Wesley sat and organized his notes from the Council’s newest training manual, he found the atmosphere more relaxing than he had in the past. Comfortable. He wondered why that was.

His silent questioning lasted throughout their lunch hour. Neither girl addressed him directly, but more than once, he caught Willow’s cautious glance. He even thought he felt her foot nudge his beneath the table at one point. But when the bell came, she packed up her books and rose to leave with Buffy and Giles without anything more than a quick smile.

They were at the door when Willow stopped and turned around. “It’s seven o’clock tomorrow night, right?” she asked, her eyes locked on his.

“What’s seven?” Buffy quizzed.

“Wesley’s going to start teaching me some of the more archaic ancient languages so that I can help more with the translations,” Willow explained. “Once I know the basics, I’m going to write a computer program that will make it all go faster so that nobody has to wait a week again to read the final result. It should make your job a heck of a lot easier.”

“So your big brain is going to get even bigger?” Buffy faked a put-upon sigh. “Good thing I’m strong or I’d start getting all self-conscious.”

Willow returned her gaze to Wesley. “So, seven, right? I’d hate to be late for my first lesson.”

He nodded, his stomach flipping inside him. “It’s actually your second, though,” he corrected. He was favored with her smile widening. “But yes, seven o’clock is more than adequate.”

She did a mock salute. “Yes, sir,” Willow said. She was the last to turn back to the door to leave, but as she did, Wesley could have sworn he saw her wink. Then again, it could have been a trick of his imagination.

His cock hardening against his thigh was not.

Neither was the genuine smile created from the sudden lightness of his heart.

THE END

fiction, wes/willow

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