Part 2: The Opening Games
Spike was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the snick of the keycard in the lock. He didn’t turn to look as Buffy slowly crossed the suite, shedding her bags and tentatively making her way towards the open veranda doors. He didn’t even turn around as she gently slid the gauzy curtains out of the way and stood framed by the door.
“I’m… Elizabeth.”
He spun around; clearly he had not been aware that he was no longer alone--and Elizabeth got her first good look at him.
Oh… wow. Her eyes widened fractionally as she drank him in, savoring him. He was a good head taller than her with a slim build, sandy brown hair, chiseled cheekbones, and eyes so blue they had to be a trick of the light.
William felt some of his anxiety drain away as she moved forward onto the veranda. ‘Least she didn’t run away screaming, his nervous brain piped in.
Hush you! He silenced it.
He noticed she was watching him with a combination of amusement and something he couldn’t put his finger on, and realized he hadn’t actually said anything to her yet. Mental facepalm.
“William,” he recovered, moving towards her.
Oh God, and he’s British. Elizabeth could feel the pleasure center of her brain doing a little jig.
She exhaled louder than she had intended, and he realized that she had been as anxious as him, if not more so. He found that more than a little comforting, and gained confidence.
She stuck out her hand somewhat awkwardly, not sure exactly how else to greet him.
He took her hand gently, but instead of shaking it, he turned it palm-up and delicately kissed the inside of her wrist, letting his lips linger just slightly over the soft, sensitive flesh there. “My pleasure.”
Somehow the gesture seemed even more intimate than if he had kissed her lips, and Elizabeth felt little jolts of electricity dancing over her skin, ghosts of where his lips had been.
William gazed down at her, pleased to see black eclipsing hazel as her pupils dilated in obvious arousal.
All right, then. Maybe he would just be able to get through his weekend without killing his brother-in-law for talking him into this… He could see Elizabeth’s bee-stung lips parting slowly as her breathing changed. Might have to send him a bloody fruit basket at this rate.
Elizabeth suddenly realized how close she had moved to William, and backed up in a fit of awareness.
William raised a scarred eyebrow in question, and she fumbled for a minute, and then blurted out, “Ineedsomewater,” before disappearing back into the room.
He shook his head and started after her, grinning ruefully. The chase was on.
* * *
Elizabeth gulped down two full glasses of lukewarm tap water before William stopped her, putting his hand on her forearm as she started to lift a third glass shakily to her lips. “Luv, if you don’t bloody stop that, you’re going to float away.”
She flushed, and put down the glass, obviously at a loss for how to proceed. William took pity on her—but if he was honest with himself, he also relished her obvious reaction to his closeness. It had been a long time since he’d felt the rush of a beautiful woman rendered nervous (and endlessly thirsty) by his proximity. It felt good… who was he kidding? It felt great. He could feel some of his old swagger, sorely M.I.A. of late, returning, and it was intoxicating. He threw her a bone--proverbially, for now.
“How was your flight?”
She stared at him for a moment, startled by the change of pace, and then relief painted itself across her features. “Fine, it was a little long but there was no turbulence.” She rolled her neck around her shoulders to illustrate the stiffness.
He perched himself on the back of a low couch, content to just watch her for now. She was even lovelier than her picture, all sun-kissed and sweet-smelling. “How do you like the room?”
“It’s lovely, really.” She started walking around the suite, fingertips trailing over the plush fabric on the chaise lounge, skipping to the dark mahogany of the wet bar, and coming to rest on the gilt edging of the full-length mirror. “The whole place is just gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” She didn’t turn back towards him, content instead examining the delicate carvings on the frame.
William took full advantage of her back being to him to assess her unabashedly from where he sat. She was a small thing, muscular, but delicately so. Blonde hair was piled into an artfully messy ponytail, and the top two buttons of her white cotton sundress were undone, hinting at a distinct lack of bra, a choice that pleased him down to his most basic male core. Just thinking about it made his trousers distinctly tighter, and he forced himself to remain ease off this train of thought, lobbing another soft question her way and buying time to further his perusal.
“Where do you think we are?”
“Don’t really know. But I suppose that’s part of this whole… experience… is it not? I mean, boarding pass with no destination listed; no phones, so no GPS, either. I mean, freakin’ Gilligan could pop up and I wouldn’t be surprised.”
A laugh bubbled out of William as he started at her unexpected levity. “I know. This is the longest I’ve been without my PDA in, well… ever.”
She relaxed visibly, her shoulders loosening and her chin coming out of her chest, but still she did not turn around.
Few more questions then. It was just so hard to ask questions that were inconsequential and impersonal. That was never the stuff that interested him, but he forced himself to do it anyway. Keep it light and non-threatening.
“How do you like the warm weather?” His voice lowered a little, became more intimate.
She chewed on her lower lip for a second, ignoring the change in tone. “Love it.”
“How do you like to be kissed?”
The floor dropped out. The room rotated on its axis, and Elizabeth’s eyes shot up to meet William’s in the mirror, tension and arousal suddenly making the air in the room thick and heady.
“Excuse me?” She had been somewhat lulled by the casual conversation, but here it was, the 800 lb gorilla in the room staring them down. The reason she had chosen to do this in the first place. Pleasure. Pleasure in its most pure and abject form, no strings attached. Pleasure the electricity already crackling in the air made her sure this man would wring from her very core.
He held her gaze steadily, blue eyes locked on hazel in sinful promise as he slowly moved across the room.
“You heard me, kitten.” He didn’t so much walk towards her as he prowled, navigating his way with feline grace.
“Umm, I’m not really sure how to answer that… I mean it depends upon the situation…”
She was aware that she was babbling, but somehow couldn’t stop her mouth from moving. “Do you mean, like, on a first date, or do you mean, like, soft vs. hard? Or do you mean…” She trailed off, finally breaking the highly charged stare to look down at the credenza.
“I mean exactly what I asked you, pet. I want to know how you like it.” With the deliberate double entendre his voice dropped to a virtual purr, and she pictured him as some kind of erotic jungle cat stalking his prey.
“Do you like something light and airy, just the barest hint of what’s to come…? The slightest trace of his lips across yours, warm, soft, and dry, just teasing your beautiful lips open the barest bit? The warm rush of his breath as it crosses your lips for the first time?”
The tension was back in her shoulders, but he could tell it was a different kind of tension as he kept talking, kept moving towards her.
“Or do you like it hard and punishing… full-on… devouring… to be kissed like you’re being consumed...? Like your every next breath relies on his touch… his taste… his tongue flicking across those beautiful pouty lips.
“Do you like to be devoured, pet? The kind of kiss that makes your nipples hard and your panties wet? Do you want me to taste you, to drink you in, inhale you as if you were the last gasp of a dying man?
“Or would you prefer to split the difference and go with the movie-type, you know, ‘long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last for days…’”
Elizabeth was so wound up in the eroticism of his words that she didn’t realize he was actually waiting for an answer. Her dress felt too tight, and the fabric felt rough--not entirely unpleasantly--against the now erect buds of her nipples. She unconsciously clenched her thighs, willing her body not to turn to Slut Mode quite so quickly. Fat chance, her mind taunted her. Did you hear that voice? See those eyes… that hair… that ass.
Great, her body and her mind were both in on it. Freaking traitors.
“Either one. Any.” She was embarrassed to hear her voice emerge as more of a squeak than the firm assertion of highly held moral standards she had intended.
He chuckled once, long and low. “I don’t think so, pet. I think you know exactly what you like--what you need—but you don’t want to come out and say it.
“I think you’re just dying to be taken like something out of one of those god awful romance novel. I think you want me to grab your head in my hands, wind my hands in that beautiful golden hair, and kiss you like I’m possessing you. Maybe you do want me to possess you. In fact, there’s no maybe about it…
“I think you want me rip that beautiful, virginal dress right off you and take those lovely perky breasts right in my hands. I think you want me to palm your rosy little nipples, rub my thumbs over them as I’m sliding my tongue over your lips—upper lips, of course…
“If I were a betting man—and I am—I’d wager you’d like nothing better right now than for me to take what I want from you. Look at you, mouth open, breathing heavy, and I haven’t even laid one… little… finger on you, not how I want to. Not how I’ve been thinking about since you walked through that door. Or how you’ve been thinking about it—and I know you have. Can’t wait. Can’t bloody waitto be buried deep inside you, feel you clench around me, bathing me with your juices.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open at the sheer dirtiness of his words. The rest of her body, however, willfully refused to be offended, and she could swear she actually felt her thighs trembling as her core flooded with arousal.
Her reaction to his explicit words was duly noted and catalogued for later reference as he came to a halt just inches from her, invading her personal space in the most delicious way but still not actually touching her.
She looked up at him through a lust-fogged gaze, and he lowered his lips to a mere hairsbreadth away from hers.
“I… I don’t think… that’s not what I…” One last attempt at saving face.
That same low, rumbling chuckle. “Liar.”
She was lying, she knew she was lying, but she still felt compelled to hold some ground. She shook her head ‘no’ slightly, almost imperceptibly. She dropped her eyes to his lips, her tongue flicking out to moisten her own unconsciously as she struggled with her last little bit of control. His hand drifted upwards, and he rubbed one thumb slowly, hypnotically, over her bottom lip, so close to her that his words flowed into her mouth instead of reaching her ears.
“You are lying. Your body gives you away, kitten. You want me to touch you so bad you’re shaking. I bet if I slipped my hand into your delicate little underthings, your pretty pussy is begging to be touched. Dripping wet, swollen with need, and so hot you feel like you’re gonna just die if I don’t fill you up right this very minute.
“So tell me again, pet, honestly, how do you like to be kissed?”
* * *
There really was only one acceptable answer to William’s question.
So Elizabeth kissed him. Really kissed him. She had never made the first move with a man—ever--and here she was, devouring a virtual stranger like she had never wanted or needed anything more in her entire life.
William’s eyes flew open in surprise for a split second before he poured his soul into returning her kiss. He seized her head in his hands, cradling it under the assault of his lips. She tasted warm, wet and wonderful with just a hint of vanilla and sugar. Her lips parted further, granting him access deeper into her, and he didn’t think he’d ever been harder in his life. At the same time, it felt like too much and never enough.
* * *
Elizabeth was dying. Drowning, burning, dying. Her skin felt too tight and itchy, and she couldn’t seem to get close enough to William to relieve the need welling up deeper inside her. He smelled like pure sex, and he tasted heady and exotic, like expensive whiskey with just the faintest trace of cigarettes. Purely male and vaguely animal. She could feel his erection grinding against her stomach and it both pleased and empowered her to know that she was not the only one enthralled with the interplay between them.
They pulled apart, both breathing hard, and William slid to his knees in front of her.
“What are you---OH!” She yelped as he seized the dress from the bottom and tore upwards, ripping the delicate cotton open all the way to the top and leaving her almost completely naked.
She was dimly aware of the buttons zinging off in various directions, but she was more aware of the glazed look on William’s face as he took her in, intoxicated by the mere sight of her standing there in nothing more than a pair of white lace panties, her ruined sundress still hanging from her smooth, tanned shoulders.
One more tug on the hem and the straps broke, leaving her clad in lace and delicate white strappy sandals.
He reached one hand up as if he were going to finally touch her where she needed him most, but at the last minute he seemed to catch himself and the hand fell back to his side.
William fumbled for words.
“Luv, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole bloody life. And I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t touch you soon.”
Although she appreciated his blatant arousal and adoration, Elizabeth was feeling feverish, and if he didn’t quit with the staring and get with the touching right this fucking minute-- “Are you gonna touch me?”
He seemed to remember himself, and tore his heavy-lidded eyes away from the sopping little panel of lace guarding the only bit of her he had not yet seen.
He sat back on his heels, looked up at her face, and grinned.
“No.”
“NO?” HUH? He was enjoying himself way too much at her confusion.
He smirked, curling his tongue in a way that only made her quiver more. “Nope.”
Before Elizabeth could even blink, he had torn the panties away, and was guiding her own hand straight to her glistening core.
“I’m not gonna touch you, but you are… And I’m gonna watch.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Written for taboo_spuffy’s Fantasy Island Challenge: William and/or Elizabeth arrive on a private island to have their ultimate sexual fantasies fulfilled… but it comes with a price. The island rules state that anything goes… except falling in love with their assigned lover. Yet it does, occasionally, happen, they know. But emotional attachment is frowned upon, and can result in both parties being shipped off the island without explanation.
A/N: This is my first fanfic, and I welcome any feedback and constructive criticism.
A/N 2: After the first paragraph, both Spike and Buffy will be referred to by their aliases to avoid confusion.
A/N 3: The movie William (mis)quotes is Bull Durham.
Beta: dusty273
A/N: This is my first fanfic, and I welcome any feedback and constructive criticism.
A/N 2: After the first paragraph, both Spike and Buffy will be referred to by their aliases to avoid confusion.
A/N 3: The movie William (mis)quotes is Bull Durham.
Beta: dusty273
Chapter End Notes:
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