Buffy Summers hated staying after work. Lately, it had become a really bad habit of hers and if something didn't give soon, she’d likely burst from the pure frustration of not getting everything done on time.
So far, her boss had yet to catch on to the late hours she’d been keeping, and for that, Buffy was extremely grateful. She really didn’t want to have to explain why she couldn’t get everything done during her regular office hours, especially considering there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for it.
Actually, that wasn’t quite true. There was an explanation, a reasonable one too, she just wasn’t sure her boss would buy it if she told it to him.
What would he say if he knew her every thought was filled with a sinful fantasy of sky blue eyes, sharp, angular cheekbones and soft, pouty lips that left a trail of warm moisture from one end of her body to the other? That the thought of hot, skilled hands traveling over her bare skin left her panting with the need for release and unable to focus on anything but the dream of total, sexual fulfillment?
Would he want details? Would he ask for a demonstration? Or would he fire her on the spot and accuse her of being some sick, twisted pervert that shouldn’t be allowed to work in a high-rise office building like his ever again?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the former. After all, William James was happily married, as far as she could tell. A huge framed portrait of his wife Cecily hung on the wall behind his ostentatious mahogany desk, and at every work function the pair took over the dance floor, making moon eyes at each other like love struck teenagers. Waltzing and tangoing and laughing elegantly.
It made Buffy just a little bit sick. The woman was a scheming, rude, vindictive bitch who, time and again, had looked down her clearly fake nose at her husband’s assistant. Cecily treated her like her own personal slave whenever she was visiting the office, and treated her like she was nothing but gum stuck to the bottom of her way too expensive Jimmy Choos.
Buffy’s shoes were stylish, but affordable, and she didn’t think that meant Cecily was better than her. In fact, bargain shopping was a totally valuable skill. Anyone could look as good as William’s wife, if they had that kind of money. Buffy looked good on a budget, and that was a noble feat. Or so she told herself.
The blonde’s groan echoed in the empty office as she realized she’d wasted another ten minutes of her night focusing on the evil wench married to her boss. Her plan to go to dinner with Cordelia that night was becoming less and less likely, as she stared at the piles of paperwork that needed to be faxed to the corporate office by the morning.
Reluctantly, she pulled out her cell phone and called her friend, kicking off her heels and tucking her feet underneath her in preparation for the long night ahead.
“Hey, it’s me, I’m stuck at the office…I know, I know,” she sighed when Cordelia instantly screeched indignantly about being stood up. “I’ll make it up to you. We can go to Ocean on Saturday and dance…well if my mind would crawl out of the gutter, maybe I would!...yeah, like that’ll happen. I’ll just have to make do with fantasies of his big leather chair and his big hard---Too much information? Good. Talk to you later.”
Buffy hung up the phone with a smile, then jumped a foot in the air when an all too familiar voice came from her left.
“Working late, are you?” William leaned casually against the doorframe, dressed simply in tight denim jeans and a black t-shirt. His normally carefully coiffed head of platinum hair was mussed in that tasty just-been-fucked kind of way, and his face, usually so somber, serious, and professional, was twisted in an amused smirk.
She sputtered in the affirmative, mind reeling with the possibility that he had overheard her phone conversation. Not that she’d mentioned him by name, but the leather chair comment would have been a dead giveaway. And she couldn’t afford to lose this job, the pay was great and he was a perfect boss and lots of her friends hadn’t even an internship, even though it had been months since graduation, and yeah this wasn’t a permanent job but she was on her way to bigger and better things, and he was staring at her expectantly like he was waiting for something. Had he asked her a question? Her brain was mush.
“What?” She blurted out.
“I asked what you were up to.”
“Oh, um, I didn’t quite finish the Wilkins paperwork today, so I’m doing that. Finishing. It.” William hadn’t been at work for the last few days, and Buffy had assumed he was on some sort of business trip, and hadn’t been mentally prepared to see him. The shock of his presence turned her into goo.
“Was it too much? I could have asked Willow to help you,” He said worriedly, moving forward towards her desk with the grace of a panther. He was, quite simply, beautiful, sculpted in the image of some Greek god, radiating a warm sensuality that drew everyone to him, but it was like he was totally unaware of his power. Like he was the sun and everyone in the world just revolved around him. Buffy especially, she was Mercury, so damn close that he was burning her but unable to get closer, or pull away. She was stuck in his orbit. His stupid, sexy, unattainable orbit.
Life wasn’t fair. The kindest, smartest, most thoughtful guy she’d ever met was her boss, and was married to a shrew.
“Too much? No, no, I just…didn’t finish,” Buffy forced out, trying to find her center so she could interact with him professionally. It threw her off-balance to see him so informal, after hours. Alone. It was a lot easier to pretend she wasn’t attracted to him when the office was buzzing with activity and he was behind those big wooden doors, or when he was being all boss-like, just giving her tasks and orders in that soft accent.
His accent was…rougher, now, as he perched on the edge of her desk and said, “Want some help, pet?”
“Help? No, of course not, I’m fine.” Her voice squeaked a bit. He’d never called her pet. It made her heart beat wildly in her chest, that was the kind of power he had over her.
“Let me help,” he insisted. “I’m so painfully bored.”
“So that’s why you came back to the office? You were bored?”
“No, actually. I was just taking a walk and saw the light on. Had to count the floors to make sure it was you.”
“Oh.” They were on the seventeenth floor.
“And thought I’d come say hi.”
“Oh…”
“And now I can help. Kill two birds with one stone, yeah?”
“…kill birds?”
“Help you with the paperwork, cure my boredom.”
“Yes! Right.” Buffy was fully aware that she was behaving like an idiot, but her intelligence and wit seemed to have taken a long vacation in the presence of William’s smile. She rarely got to see that smile. “If you want to help, that…would be nice. Thank you.”
“Let’s go to my office, we can spread out. Order some food, maybe? I’m partial to Chinese, but if you wanted something else, that’s fine too.”
“No, no. Chinese is good. I’m a moo shu fan.”
“Me too.” He smiled at her again. Then those eyes, those eyes she could seriously drown in if she looked too hard, swept down her body to where her black skirt had ridden up, revealing the tanned skin of her thighs.
The fact that he was looking was obvious, but his stare wasn’t really sexual in nature. No, he was looking at her legs with some sort of casual interest, like the way one might inspect an amateur painting before deeming it acceptable. His head tilted slightly. His tongue crept out of his mouth.
She wanted to cover up, but was too thrilled with the fact that he was looking at her, even in such a nonchalant way. Buffy had never before even gotten the impression that he found her attractive, and the warmth spreading up her chest and face was a direct result of the revelation that maybe he’d noticed her the way she’d noticed him.
Suddenly, as if he’d been caught doing something naughty, he turned quickly away and walked back towards the door. “I’ll order, you bring in the papers and whatnot?”
“Sounds good,” she nodded eagerly, standing up and shoving her feet back in her shoes. Once he’d disappeared, she grabbed her phone and sent a text message to Cordelia, her fingers shaking slightly.
Emergency. Boss here, ordering food, looked at my legs. HELP!?!
The response was as quick as expected, considering her friend’s Blackberry was permanently attached to her hand and she was skilled with the keyboard.
Take your hair down, giggle, and do that thing with your eyelashes. But let him make the first move. I’ll want details!!!
Buffy pursed her lips and nodded resolutely.
She saw this as almost her duty. Try to give William what she thought he deserved, and what she’d been fantasizing about for months. In all likelihood perfectly coiffed Cecily never got down and dirty, never gave this gorgeous guy the chance to release that fire she saw flickering beneath the surface. He was always so restrained, hardly raising his voice, keeping himself and his emotions firmly in check. But Buffy saw glimmers of what lay beneath the surface of his calm and cool exterior.
In addition to budget shopping, one of her most valuable skill was her ability to read men, she knew. It came from years of coaching by Cordelia. She figured if she flirted just a tiny bit, she’d be able to tell whether or not he was interested. And if he wasn’t, she would get really drunk when she got home, possibly contact her ex-boyfriend Riley for a booty call, and push William James out of her mind permanently. If he was…well, then she would show him what he was missing by being with that bitch wife of his. Many times. In many different positions. And maybe he’d leave Cecily and…she wouldn’t continue that train of thought.
Arms full of files, she headed into his office, breath catching as she saw him standing near the window looking out over the sparkling LA lights, moonlight shining off his hair and an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked almost dangerous, raw and devoid of artifice, incongruous with the upscale and professional office. It was completely jarring, throughout the four months she’d been working for him, Buffy always seen William as a sweet, professional, quiet, gorgeous man with passion just waiting to be unleashed. But for the first time, she was seeing that maybe he was already liberated, and maybe this was just her first chance to see it.
“I ordered from Chef Chen’s,” he removed the cigarette when he must have sensed her hovering in the doorway, but didn’t turn to look at her. “Turn on the light?”
“Yeah, of course,” she said, setting the files down on the desk as she pulled the clip out of her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. Bending over slightly, she opened the top file, slid her foot out of her shoe and absentmindedly rubbed the back of her other calf with it. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed William observing her again, in that carefully detached sort of way that made her tingly. Like an eagle observing its prey when it wasn’t necessarily hungry, but was merely evaluating a possible plan of attack.
“They said about twenty minutes, I’ll head down there to meet them out front.”
“Okay,” she smiled at him, then returned her focus to the files, biting her lip in faux thought.
“So what are we working with?” He asked as he came over to stand right next to her, heat radiating from his body and making her skin tingle.
Buffy did that thing with her eyelashes, where she looked up at him and blinked slowly. As they discussed the Wilkins account, she pulled out every subtle trick she could think of, every little flirtation she’d ever learned.
She knocked a file onto the ground, and as they both reached for it, she let her fingers lightly brush against his, but didn’t even look at his face. When he reached across her for a pen, she shifted forward just the tiniest bit so his arm brushed against her breasts. When they spread out on the floor to get more comfortable, she took off her shoes and jacket, leaving her in just her black skirt and sheer white blouse. Of course, the blouse was over a tank top, perfectly respectable for the work-place, but still, Buffy knew the view of just a little bit of naked flesh at her chest and on her arms was having the desired effect.
When she arched her back, ostensibly with the desire to stretch but really just wanting her breasts to push out, William coughed and rose.
“I should head down to grab the food. You’ll be alright here?”
“I think I can handle sitting in your office by myself for a few minutes,” she giggled.
“Right. You do that. Okay.”
He scurried out of the room, once again acting like the slightly bumbling William she’d come to know and adore over the past few months.
Buffy smirked as he left. Mission accomplished. He wanted her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike hit the button for the elevator, half-hard in his jeans and glaring at his reflection in the mirrored doors.
This was supposed to be his game. His! He was supposed to waltz into the office, all suave and dominating, and sweep that delectable little slip of a woman off her feet and onto his desk. Or his chair. Or his couch. He hadn’t decided where first, yet, but he was sure they’d eventually hit all the spots he’d dreamt about.
He’d seen how she looked at him. The chit was pretty obvious, as a matter of fact. It was why Cecily hated her so much, treated her awfully whenever she was in the office. Because she could see the glint of interest in the blonde’s eyes, and it threatened her.
Sleeping with Buffy would be the culmination of months of fantasizing. The fact that it would piss off his cheating wife was just a bonus.
He’d heard her little comment to her friend on the phone, and thought it would be so easy to seduce her, possess her, use her and move on. Who cares if she worked for him? She was just an intern, anyway.
But no. After those first few minutes of adorable awkwardness, his employee had turned into some…enticing sex kitten, teasing him mercilessly with flirtatious smiles and flashes of skin.
Probably thought she was being subtle. But Spike James had the experience to spot from miles away all the little tricks of women. Manipulative little temptresses, thinking with a toss of the hair or a biting of the lip they could bring men to their knees. Spike used to be like that, used to fall victim to all the charms women had. But not anymore. Nothing could get past him.
What was infuriating, though, was that it was, in fact, working, even if he knew what she was up to. He was horny and desperate and off his game. She had the power. And that just wouldn’t do.
Once he collected the food from downstairs, he had what he had to admit was a brilliant thought, and stopped off in Lindsay’s office to pilfer the bottle of champagne he kept in his fridge. His partner would be furious about the missing Dom Perignon, but Spike didn’t have it in him to care at the moment. He’d replace it. Eventually.
He took a few seconds to gather himself outside his office door, motivational mantras and disgusting thoughts running through his brain, to psyche himself up and bring down his erection, respectively.
When he entered the office, Buffy was lying on her stomach, feet towards the door and in the air, and he could see a valley of golden flesh stretching from her knee to up under her skirt, which was pulled tightly over the curve of her luscious ass. She was humming something upbeat, as her head bounced a bit from side to side.
It was a wonderful sight. And it pissed him off.
Little girl thought she could play a man’s game, did she? Well, Spike would show her. She didn’t quite know the rules yet, thought she controlled the situation and sweet William would just follow her along.
He wasn’t William tonight. He was Spike, and the poor thing wouldn’t know what hit her.
“Hungry?” He asked as he sauntered in, sitting down across from her and putting the champagne behind his back.
“Mmm, yeah, my stomach’s making with the grumblies,” Buffy smiled at him. “Let me just get my purse.”
“It’s on me, pet,” he said smoothly, pulling out the wide assortment of dishes he’d ordered. A few weeks ago a group of them had gone out for Chinese after a big account was settled, and he’d remembered everything she’d liked. Not that he’d been paying that much attention to her, he just had a good memory for these sorts of things.
“Really? Well thanks, Mr. James, I appreciate it.”
“Spike.”
“Huh?”
“You can call me Spike, love. It’s a nickname.” And what he wanted her to scream out.
“Okay, Spike. Want to tell me where that name came from?’
“Not a chance, Goldilocks,” he smirked at her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you. And I’d hate for anything to happen to that pretty little neck of yours.”
Buffy blushed pink, and seemed at a loss for words for a moment. His smirk wider now, Spike spread out their meal, and they began to eat.
The paperwork was finished quickly, with two minds instead of one it wasn’t exactly a difficult task. But even with the work finished, neither made the move to leave. The conversation flowed easily, a fact that surprised Spike a bit. He’d always thought the woman beautiful, and enjoyed their casual chats every now and then. But he hadn’t really taken the time to get to know her on any real level, and he was surprised to find that…he liked her.
Buffy was funny and witty, had a strange way with words that made him smile, and did this cute thing with her nose when she was thinking. And she had some good insights, somehow they’d gotten on the topic of Spike’s troubled younger sister Dru, and she had given him advice on how to help her. And they’d continued to flirt, but Spike found it almost…a give and take, as opposed to the full seduction he’d been planning on.
“So, Spike,” Buffy asked, drinking down the last of her second glass of champagne, which he’d brought out when the paperwork was done to celebrate the end of her work-day. “You seem…different.”
“Different?”
“Well, you asked me to call you Spike, for one. And you’re all…casual and not nearly so---“
“Stuffy?”
“No! No, I wasn’t going to say that. You just seem more relaxed,” she stammered out nervously, cutely nibbling her lip. Not biting it all seductively, like she had earlier, just worrying it unconsciously. Shockingly, this was a more effective tactic. Not that she was consciously trying to tempt him much anymore, she was just naturally enticing. It was driving him crazy. Then the times when she would suddenly turn overtly flirtatious…brushing her fingers on her chest, licking her lips…he would almost faint.
“Know what you meant, Buffy. I just have my…my business self and my everyday self.”
“So, like, multiple personalities?” she giggled, face flushed from a bit of alcohol and, he hoped, lust.
“Mmm. Which one do you like better?” Spike asked.
She cocked her head thoughtfully. “Well, neither. They’re both you, just…different sides of you, I guess.”
That strangely perceptive comment threw Spike for a loop, and he was silent as he began to gather up the mess from dinner. The logic in his planned seduction was suddenly seeming flawed.
The first thought that had come to mind when he’d caught Cecily and Liam was to find a bar, which he’d done for three days. And then he’d decided a proper shag was in order, and the first person who’d popped into his mind was his employee.
It was supposed to be hot and quick and dirty, because he could tell she’d be into that. Her innate passion was clear in everything she did, and he’d spent many lonely nights imagining her in his bed. So he’d sought her out, sure she’d be at work late like she usually was.
But he was really starting to like her. She was beautiful and fun and not at all like Cecily. She was sincere, and warm, and looked at him like she actually cared what he had to say. The sparks were electric between them, he felt open and naked and vulnerable, like any second she might disappear and leave him shattered.
And he wanted her.
“Did I say something wrong?” She asked hesitantly.
Spike spun around and shook this head. He was kneeling a few feet away from her on the Oriental rug, she was laying on her side leaning on one elbow. Just a few moves and he could be covering her body with his, kissing those sweet pink lips. She wouldn’t resist, he knew. Or, he thought. Hoped. And if she did…God, he could threaten her job, he would, anything to get her to touch him.
The thoughts disgusted his William side, and he shook his head again. “No, pet, of course not. Just got distracted.” He finished gathering up the trash and went to dump it in the bin by his desk. When he turned back around, Buffy was just a foot from him, staring up at him with an unreadable something on her face. He could smell the sweet hint of her perfume.
“You sure you’re okay?”
No, he wasn’t. But he would be.
Spike reached out to grasp her arm above the elbow, pulling her toward him with a firm but gentle tug. The little “oh!” of surprise from her lips made him smile.
“You’ve been playing with me,” He murmured teasingly. “Like a little kitten.”
“Have I?”
“Mmhmm. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“Actually, I was hoping you would,” she raised her head to look him square in the eye, his smile mirrored on her face.
Christ. She was going to be the death of him.
Their mouths met with equal passion from both sides, and they moved quickly to his desk chair. He sat, one arm around her waist and one hand firmly twisted in her hair, while she straddled his hips which mean she’d had to yank up her close-fitting skirt. This meant the bright red lace crotch of her underwear was visible to Spike when they parted for breath, and he groaned out his approval as he dropped one hand to brush the fabric.
“You’ve wanted me, haven’t you kitten,” he asked with a sigh as he found the damp evidence of her arousal. “Dreamed about me as much as I’ve dreamed about you.”
“You…you have?” She breathed out, hips pressing forward onto his lightly teasing fingers.
“Oh yeah, baby,” Spike purred as he slipped his fingers under the lace to find her soaking center. “Thought about you every...every damn day.”
“Good,” she said happily before pressing her lips to his again, tongue darting out to tease his with light caresses.
His dick was painfully crushed in his tight jeans, and the taste of her mouth was making it worse. But he wasn’t suffering for long as one of her small hands dropped from his shoulder to his waist, fumbling with his belt. His distaste for underwear meant it was only seconds before his thick length was in her hand, and he moaned into her mouth, savoring the sensation before pushing her hand away and lifting her off of him.
“What---“ Buffy started to say in surprise, but he cut her off with a finger coated in her juices to her lips.
“Shh. Gonna give you what you want.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The lust Buffy felt was only comparable to the time she and her first boyfriend had done little role-playing. The experiment had ended up failing miserable due to Angel’s confusion about the premise, for the few seconds they’d gotten into their roles as teacher and student, it had been very, very hot.
But this was still so much better than that, and she could hardly believe it was really happening. Spike---she really, really liked that name---had manhandled her to bend over the desk and was now slowly pulling her skirt down her legs, he then removed it to spread her wide. Then he lifted her slightly and unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it and her tank top off quickly and roughly. Then she was back over the desk in just her bra and panties, a matching red set that she’d bought with him in mind. Because once she’d overheard him talking on the phone, and he’d said, “Get the red. You know it’s my favorite.”
And it was. The sight of her submissive and bent over, wrapped in the color of passion and blood, looking at him over one shoulder with eyes bright from lust, undid him. He nipped playfully at the bare skin of her back, starting at her neck and moving down to her ass, then laved each slightly red bite with hot, open-mouthed kisses that made her cry out. When he slid two fingers past her underwear into her sex, she cried out again, and when he tried to pull his hand back, her hips moved back to seek more of his touch.
“So pretty…” Spike sighed happily as his eyes drank in the sight of her fucking herself back on his fingers, his free hand moving to his waist to undo his trousers. He couldn’t take it slow this first time. But later, and he knew now there had to be a later, he would take the time to ravish her properly, to play with her body and learn all the little things he could do to make her body tremble. But right now he needed to be inside her, and so he took his hands away.
Buffy let herself be grabbed and spun and lifted onto the desk. Her bra and underwear disappeared quickly, then Spike moved to strip himself, and as each acre of pale flesh was revealed, she felt her breath speed up until she was panting. Then they were skin to skin as he moved closer to her, hands gravitating to cup her breasts and squeeze them gently. He pulled away, and she was visibly trembling as she waited for him to put on a condom from his desk drawer. But she came back into herself as he reached to spread her legs, and hopped down from the desk to shove him back into his chair, then straddled him again, liking the look of awe on his face when she took charge.
Their coupling began quickly, hurriedly, like each would implode if they spent a second apart. Buffy grasped the thick base of his cock and lowered herself down in one smooth movement, crying out from a mixture of pleasure and pain when he stretched her tight walls. As she sank onto him she tightened her grip on his shoulders, a strange burst of contentment making her shiver.
“Fuck, yeah…” Spike groaned out, head falling back against the leather of the chair. “That’s it…” She was so wet, burning hot, muscles clenching blissfully tight around him. He reached down to hold the globes of her ass in each palm, aiding her in her grinding against him, but let her control the pace, let her do whatever she wanted with him.
“God, Spike, it’s so---“
“Amazing, you’re so bloody hot…”
“Right there, yeah…Love your hands, don’t stop!”
“Won’t, won’t ever, fuck, you’re tight!”
Sweat began to form on their frantically moving bodies, sticking his flesh to the chair and her chest to his. The slip slide of his cock in and out of her created a delicious friction, and they couldn’t tear their eyes away from each other. As Buffy rose and fell she watched the tick of a muscle in Spike’s jaw, watched the way his tongue darted out to wet his parched lips, watched the way he intently looked at the nipple he was pinching. Once satisfied with his perusal of the red nub, he let his gaze wander up to her face, contorted in ecstasy, one hand firmly twisted in her own hair as she worked him in and out of her. She was a vision, driven only by her desire, desire for him and what he could give her.
Spike leaned forward and captured a breast in his mouth, growling around the flesh as Buffy let out a hoarse cry and grasped his head tightly. His teeth fastened gently on her hard nipple, as he dipped a hand between their bodies to pinch at her clit, hips rising up to meet hers with desperate force.
She cried out his name and arched into his touch, fingers still tightly twisted in his soft hair. “Yes yes yes…no, keep it just like that…harder…”
He pulled away from her breast momentarily to ask, “Like this, baby?”
“Yes, yes, Spike…” She grabbed his head and guided it to her other breast demandingly.
He loved hearing her tell him what to do, loved the way she fought him for control and won, loved the way she was now lost to lust and babbling as she approached her peak. The flutters around his cock were driving him mad, and he needed his mouth to groan out from the delicious pain that came with trying to stop his own imminent orgasm. He’d wanted to fuck her for hours, keep her wet and begging for his cock before he finally came, but that plan was shot to hell when she brought his fingers to her mouth, sucking on them with a wild look in her eyes as she broke apart.
Searing, painful pleasure radiating from her core, lost in the dark intensity of Spike’s eyes, Buffy clenched her inner muscles, hard, intensifying her orgasm as she slammed her hips down once more and trembled violently.
She was crying out around his fingers, her words unintelligible, writhing around in his lap, surpassing any of his fantasies of her, which seemed so mundane now. When she tightened her pussy around him he was lost, coming suddenly with a loud shout. His chest clenched tightly as Buffy collapsed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms tight around her to pull her closer, panting hard as he fought to regain some semblance of control. Her head was nuzzled against his throat, her hot breath sending shocks of renewed arousal up and down his spine.
“So, did the chair live up to your expectations?” He teased softly.
“I knew you heard me!” she whined against his throat, laughing grudgingly. “Jerk.”
Buffy inhaled Spike’s scent, sweat and smoke and some sort of expensive cologne, then reluctantly pulled away and stood up so he could remove his condom.
“Should I…I should go,” she said calmly, before Spike could be the one to end their little tryst. She spun to grab for her bra, but then found strong arms wrapped around her from behind.
“Don’t want you to go,” Spike murmured.
“Really?” Buffy twisted slowly in his arms, nervous but hopeful, then deciding it was best to be upfront in a situation like this. “I know you’re married, I---“
“We’re over. It’s over,” he blurted out quickly. It was the first time he’d said it aloud, and he was surprised at how little it hurt. He did know the girl in his arms was the reason, and there wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting her go.
“Oh…” She smiled happily, leaning back into his arms. She’d expected maybe the couple was having a rough patch, or he’d want her as his mistress. And she would have done it, too. But this was so much better. “Well then. That’s good.”
“Mmhmm. Very,” he purred against her throat, hands skimming up her sides to cup her breasts. “Ready for another go?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Good. But this time, I’m on top.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Yay, attempting a one-shot! Boo, not getting it under my self-enforced word limit. Ah well, needed more room for the smut! This is a response to the taboo_spuffy community challenge on LiveJournal, the italicized portion of the fic was the prompt. Hope you enjoy it, I'd love feedback!