William Pratt pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger as he shut the car door behind him.
The sun was high and bright in the morning sky and the heat was already rising. It was a typical day in Los Angeles, nothing extraordinary about it. In fact, William couldn't stop the swarm of déjà vu that swirled around his head as he stared up at the large white house that towered above him. He had been to this home far too many times in the last four months and he was certainly not happy to be back again. Not today, at least.
His shoes crunched into the gravel as he walked up the driveway towards the front door. He didn't bother to knock or to ring the doorbell before he slipped past the heavy mahogany door. They were beyond all of the pretense now, had been for a while, and considering she had practically invited him over by not showing up this morning, he felt like he had open access, no permission required.
Cool air splashed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He'd always thought the place was much too cold for comfort. Not only the frigid temperature that the house was kept at, but the decor as well. With its black marble floors and sparse furnishings, everything perfectly in place, it had never seemed all that warm and inviting to him. It often made him wonder why anyone would want to live someplace than reminded him of a cold, dark museum.
She was nothing like the house she lived in. Her, all sunshine and heat and crystal salt, a true California girl, she was. Shimmering blond hair and green eyes that were wide and full of curiosity, just like a kitten's, and with her golden skin that glittered in the light, she was pure perfection.
William squeezed his eyes shut. That was not a good direction for his thoughts to be going. He shouldn't be thinking about her like that, no matter how much she tempted him so. She was just another case, nothing more, nothing less.
Of course, he knew that was all bollocks.
"Miss Summers?" he called out, pulling his sunglasses off and stuffing them into the breast-pocket of his jacket. "Let's not waste any more of my time now. If you come down now, I can get you back t' the school before second period ends."
He knew before he'd even spoke that she wouldn't answer. That was part of her little game of hide and go seek. She liked to be coaxed out.
If this were any other day, he might have enjoyed the chase. But unfortunately, he was up to his eyeballs in paperwork and he had back to back meetings that afternoon with a couple of students who were newly released from juvenile hall. Why did she pick today to ditch? She couldn't have chosen a worse time.
"Seriously, I don't have time for this, Miss Summers."
He began moving through each of the rooms, hoping that he would find her sooner rather than later. The living room had claimed his patience, the dining room his cool, and by the time he reached the kitchen, he was thoroughly frustrated and close to losing his temper.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to shout out a warning, the faint scent of burning cloves reached his nose and he froze. She was somewhere on the first floor, but he had looked in every room and hadn't found her. His eyes scanned the kitchen until he spied a slender door that was camouflaged to look like part of the wall.
Striding across the kitchen, he grabbed a hold of the small handle and tugged the door open. There was a narrow hallway before the room opened up into a neat and tidy laundry area. And sitting on top of the washer was the girl he had just spent twenty minutes looking for.
"I really was hiding this time," she said without looking at him. A clove cigarette was dangling between two fingers as she rested her hand just above her knee and her bare feet were swinging slightly.
He frowned. "Why is that?"
"Duh," she replied, rolling her eyes, "because I don't want to go to school. I thought you were supposed to be smart or something."
Ignoring that last comment, he took a couple steps towards her and folded his arms over his chest. "Why don't you want to go to school?"
"Why would I?" she countered. "I mean, what's the point?"
His eyes twinkled. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that it's a requirement o' the law that you be sittin' in those uncomfortable desks every weekday from seven 'til three. It's not a personal choice, Miss Summers."
"Well, it should be." She took a long drag off of her cigarette before flicking it onto the cement floor. "Not like I'm learning anything anyway."
William studied her for a while. He just didn't get it. Here was a girl who had everything going for her, wealthy parents and popularity, beauty and sharp wit, 4.0 GPA and extra long list of extracurricular activities and yet, she continued to break all of the rules this semester. Why was she doing this to herself? Why would she throw away all of her hard work just to ditch classes and challenge every authority figure she came into contact with? He didn't bloody get it.
"Maybe if you paid a little more attention in class, you-"
She let out a frustrated scream. "I don't need a lecture from you! You don't know me! You don't know anything about me!"
His jaw tensed and he took a deep breath in through his nose. If only that were true. If only he didn't know almost all there was to know about her. If only he hadn't spent the last few months so sodding fixated on this girl that all he could think about was her. He may not know why she was lashing out at the world and giving it the proverbial finger, but he knew everything else, every little detail, every little accomplishment and every little infraction, every little bit of gossip.
Not that he could ever tell her that. He was straddling that line between appropriate behavior and downright stalker-ish obsession.
Swallowing hard, he tried to push the unwanted thoughts from his mind. It wasn't working.
Focus on the job at hand, mate.
"I don't need t' know anythin' about you, Miss Summers. I'm here t' take you back t' school, not t' give you therapy," he snapped.
Tears began to well in her forest-green eyes. "Fuck you!" she shouted, jumping off of the washer and making a run for the door.
William caught her arm in a tight grip as she tried to pass by him and she struggled to get loose. Pulling her towards him, he finally got a grasp on her other arm just as she moved to slug him.
"Let me go, you asshole!"
"Stop fightin' me!"
Her attempts to free herself from his hold were weakening and eventually she just sort of crumpled against his chest. He could hear her trying to hold back her tears, but soon sobs were tumbling through her petite frame. Try as he might, he couldn't stop his hands from releasing her or his arms from wrapping around her body, enveloping her in a steady embrace.
"Shhh, don't cry, luv. It'll be okay," he found himself murmuring.
She shook her head. "No, it won't."
"Do you..." he began, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat, "want t' talk about it?"
Suddenly, she pushed herself away from him and gave him an accusatory glare. "I thought you said you weren't my therapist, that you didn't need to know anything about me."
He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall back onto his shoulders. There were two ways to play this one and he already knew which road he was going to take. That didn't mean it was the smart road, but he wasn't exactly known for his brilliant mind.
"I lied. I wanna know. And I wanna help," he told her.
Her angry expression faltered slightly and she took a step towards him. "Why?"
"Because despite what you an' the rest o' student body think, I do care. If there's somethin' goin' on in your life that's makin' you act out like-"
"Act out?" she said with a snort. "My life is fucking falling apart and nobody gives a shit. So why should I care about your stupid rules? They're not doing me any good."
"My stupid rules, eh?" He shook his head. "You have no soddin' clue. You think I enjoy ridin' on you guys about comin' t' school an' bein' a good little student? I didn't sign up t' be the world's biggest hall monitor. An' I'm sorry, sweetheart, that I didn't know you were havin' problems. God forbid you actually talk t' someone about them. Hell, we've been doin' this for months now, you could have said somethin', anythin'. I would have listened, could've helped."
Her gaze dropped to the floor and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What if you could help? Would you?" she asked, her voice soft, just a shade above timid.
"Yes," he replied with confidence.
She moved closer to him, her head tilting upward with every step until she was looking up into his eyes. "Take me away from here."
His heart leapt into his head, a rush of blood and the steady thump of his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Surely, she wasn't saying... "What?"
"I want to... I want you to take me somewhere, anywhere that's not here. Just go and never look back."
Her expression held a bright shimmer of hope as she looked to him for his answer and he was immediately torn between reason and listening to the devious voice in his head, a voice that was practically screaming at him to give her what she wanted.
It shouldn't even have been a question, really. As a responsible adult, a faculty member of the school, and an all-around law abiding citizen, the idea of entertaining this girl's crazy request should have immediately been squashed. But William couldn't stop the direction his thoughts were going and a part of him didn't want to stop it either.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to retain some rationality. "Why do you want t' run away?"
"Does it really matter?" she asked, the disappointment in her voice clearly audible. "I can't stay here anymore. I just...can't, okay?"
"If someone's hurtin' you, then-"
"Nobody is hurting me," she said quickly. "Not that way, at least."
William arched an eyebrow at her. "You mind tellin' me what exactly that means? 'Cause, I gotta tell you, Buffy, I'm not sure I like what you're implying here."
There was a long pause before she answered him, but in that time it became very clear that something was definitely going on in this house and it was nothing good.
Fuck.
A part of him had been hoping she was just trying to screw with his head again, some mind game to entertain herself. It would have pissed him off for sure, but the alternative made him see red in a completely different fashion.
"Can't we just drop it?" she mumbled.
In a move that had his inner adult flashing a big warning sign and sounding the alarm, William reached forward and tipped her chin up with the edge of his knuckle. Her big green eyes stared up at him and he felt his heart melt while another part of his body suddenly got very solid.
Clenching his teeth, he tried to ignore his reaction to this girl. "No, luv. We can't jus' drop it. This is serious. I can't pretend that you've-"
"Why not? By the time anyone does anything, it'll be too late anyway."
"Don't say that. Look, I'm here t' help you. If you would just tell me what's-"
"If you really want to help me then let me go with you. I won't be any trouble, I swear," she said in a rush, her gaze pleading now.
"Buffy..." he rumbled. "I can't jus'...take you home with me."
"Why not?" she asked with a pout.
He stared at her lower lip as it poked out, all pink and luscious, and he almost couldn't stop himself from moving forward to grab her and sucking that delicious flesh in between his teeth. Thankfully, though, his brain was still working enough to regain some of his sanity and he took a step back from her tempting form.
"You know why. I'm an officer of the school an' there are rules about how t' deal with abuse cases," he told her, hoping she'd understand that it had nothing to do with him not wanting to help her.
A second later, he knew she hadn't understood at all.
"So, what! I'm just a fucking case now?"
He didn't want to say it, but he did anyway. "What else would you be?"
Her jaw dropped open and a hurt expression washed over her face. "You- you don't..."
"I don't what?"
"I..." She shook her head, her eyes shifting down towards the floor. "I thought you...liked me. I thought you liked this."
He knew exactly was ‘this' meant. It was the game, the chase, the thrill of the catch. They'd been playing for months and that was far more telling than anything else. He should have stopped doing this a long time ago, just turned her case over to juvenile court and let them deal with it, but every time her file came up, he'd stuffed it back in the drawer. For a long time, he had himself convinced that he was holding onto it because he felt like he could do more for her than the court could. Over time, though, he began to see it for what it really was.
Oh, he was worried about her well-being, that was true, but he did have some purely selfish motives for keeping this one close beyond that. First and foremost of which was plain and simple lust. Forbidden, heated lust. His heart raced when he saw her, whether it was as she was walking down the hall with friends or catching a glimpse of her golden hair as it disappeared up the stairs to her bedroom while he hunted her down.
He wanted her even if the thought disgusted him. She was just a child, after all, and here he was chasing her around like he couldn't care less how old she was.
"I can't do this, Buffy," he finally choked out.
She moved closer to him, those slender hips swaying seductively. "Why not?"
His breath was coming in short pants as he watched her advance until she was only inches away. He squeezed his eyes shut as her scent invaded his senses, clove and spice and something so sweet that he started to lose his head.
"You're underage." There were a million reasons he couldn't go there with her, but that was the only one he could think of at the moment.
"Only for a few more months."
"A few months still means you're underage, luv."
Tiny fingers crawled up his chest, making his skin tingle and his cock twitch. Soon her other set of fingers were marching up the same path and he couldn't stop the shudder that wracked his body like a bolt of lightning.
She leaned into his chest and threw her head back. "I could still make you happy."
Grabbing her hands, he shoved her away. "Stop this! Goddammit, Buffy, we can't do this!"
"You like me, I know you do, Mr. Pratt!"
His lips twisted into a sneer as he stared her down with nothing less than a predatory glare. "You have no bloody clue what you're talkin' about. If you did, you'd know that like is the last thing I feel when I think about you."
"You think about me?"
The innocence in her voice shoved his wicked demeanor back and he was suddenly startled with the realization that it had come on too quickly for him to contain in the first place. He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid. His feet began to shuffle backward, carrying him closer to the door with each clumsy step.
"Do you?" she asked, following his retreat.
Without warning, his back slammed into the wall, completely missing the hallway, and his head knocked against the plaster. And then she was there, trapping him, keeping him frozen as her body invaded his personal space. Her hands braced themselves on his chest as she leaned in and his breath caught sharply in his lungs.
"B-Buffy..." he choked out, not knowing whether he was trying to urge her away or closer.
"'Cause I think about you. All the time," she said thickly. Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly's wings as she gazed up at him. "I think about you at night, during class, while I'm in the shower, when I'm with my friends. I think about what it would be like to be your girlfriend."
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. His control was slipping with each word that fell from her lips, with each warm puff of breath against his hypersensitive skin, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that if she didn't back off within the next minute he wouldn't be able to stop himself from spinning wildly out of control.
Her hot fingers slid up his chest and traced the strong line of his jaw. "I think about what it'd be like to kiss you," she murmured just before he felt her soft mouth sucking in his lower lip and nibbling on it with her teeth.
All of his blood rushed south and the erection he had tried so hard to keep at bay since seeing her perched up on that washing machine sprung up with a vengeance. She gasped and the sound continued to echo in his ears as her hips began to move against him, tentatively at first, then with definite intent.
"Can't...shouldn't..." he stammered in a last ditch effort to bring some common sense back to the situation.
She placed her finger over his lips. "Shhh. Just let me make you happy. Please, Mr. Pratt, I promise it'll be good."
Fuck, he was going to Hell! And right now, he couldn't care less.
The feeling came back in his arms and he reached out to grab her, to finally show her what it felt like to kiss a real man, but all he seemed to grasp was air. His eyes opened and blinked rapidly as he tried to figure out where she'd gone. An involuntary jerk of his hips made his gaze shoot down and he realized hazily that she was on her knees and struggling with his belt. Just as he was about to give her a hand, she let out a triumphant cry and pulled the belt free from his pants with a snap. She stared at the bulge behind his zipper in wonder for a brief moment, and then moved her fingers to the button, pushing it through its hole. She pinched the zipper and slid it down, his cock bouncing out as it was finally released from its tight confinement.
He let out a guttural sigh of relief, the painful pressure fading away until all that was left was lust coiling tightly in his groin. A rush of desire crashed over him in a forceful wave as he felt her tiny hand curl around the heated width of his erection and begin to move in measured strokes up and down, up and down.
"Oh...fuck, yeah!" he shouted when her grip tightened and she started pumping him faster.
It was pretty damn obvious she was taking direction purely from his reactions and not from experience, which meant she had probably never done this before. Her hand was shaky and her movement erratic as she picked up more speed, all the while her expression was full of determined concentration. And even though she was desperately trying to seem practiced, William could tell she was anything but; a fact which should have made him slam on the brakes and run like hell, but it only served to turn him on more.
A million thoughts were trampling around in his mind, though the one thought he should be having was mysteriously absent. Of course, at this point he couldn't care less that his conscience had suddenly taken a hike, because damn the consequences, he had no intentions of stopping this, nagging inner voice or no. Not that he really had the power to stop even if he wanted to. She had stripped him of all sense and reason and control beyond what little he had that allowed him to keep from coming.
His hand dove into her shiny blond hair and gripped it hard, pulling her head back slightly so that he could see her expression. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the look she was giving him. It was a mixture of desire and confusion with just a hint of fear and pretty far off from the 'I wanna eat you alive' look she'd had only minutes before.
He swallowed hard. His common sense may have buggered off, but he wasn't the type of man that would force himself on anyone. If she wanted to stop, he would. "Buffy, are you sure this is what you want?"
Her eyebrows drew together, a deep crease appearing between them, punctuating the straight line of her cute, oddly-shaped nose. Nodding, she replied, "Yeah, I'm sure. I want to do this, Mr. Pratt. I'm just...I-I don't know what you...like."
"Well," he began with a laugh, "for starters, I'd like it if you'd stop callin' me Mr. Pratt. You know my name, luv."
A rosy blush spread across her cheeks. "It feels weird saying it though. I've never called you...William."
His gaze darkened as he looked down to where her hand still gripped his cock and licked his lips. "Bit late for formality at this point, don't you think?"
"I don't know," she replied, shrugging. Then her face turned into seduction personified, a devious smile curving at her cotton candy-pink lips, a sparkle in her green eyes. "I thought it was kinda hot. Like I was some naughty schoolgirl and you're the teacher who's gonna teach me a lesson."
"That's...not too far from the truth." And god, did she know what she was doing to him? How many times had that fantasy played in his head? It was dirty and wicked and fuck, did he just get harder?
She bit her lower lip. "So you want me to call you Mr. Pratt still then?"
"No, what I want is for you t' wrap those luscious lips around my cock."
The way her eyes widened William was certain that she'd never done that either. He supposed he should be surprised, that a little juvenile delinquent like herself didn't have a lot more sexual experience, but he wasn't, not at all. He knew this girl, knew that even though she liked to break the rules, she wasn't about to break herself. It wasn't her style. She had too much self-respect to fool around with every Tom, Dick, and Harry...or rather every Tyler, Parker, and Riley. Not that they didn't try, but she was out of their league and she ran like the wind from any boy who even looked in her direction.
"What does it taste like?" she asked thoughtfully.
He arched an eyebrow at her, barely containing his grin. "How would I bloody know? I only eat girls."
A pout formed on her lips and she made a 'hmph' noise. "You suck."
"Mm-hmm. An' I'm fuckin' great at it, so you best get movin'. Tit for tat an' all that jazz," he drawled, his hips thrusting slightly in her direction.
She sighed heavily and gave his thick erection a weary glance. "What if I don't like it?"
"Then you don't like it. Look, let's not have the soddin' 'I won't make you do anything you don't want to' talk. I think you know me well enough t' know you're safe with me, Buffy."
"I know."
Her hand continued to move up and down his shaft, but she started to dip her head closer to his sensitive tip. She seemed to study it for a moment before sticking her tongue out and licking at the trail of precum leaking from the very top. Her face twisted in a way that would have been comical had William not been so close to blowing his load all over the both of them.
"It's kinda salty. Tangy," she finally announced after testing the taste in her mouth.
"Bad?" he asked through clenched teeth.
She shook her head. "Uh-uh. It's different, but not bad."
This time when she leaned in, she slid her whole mouth around the crown of his cock, her tongue wrapping around the spongy flesh like it was a lollipop.
"Fuck me," he breathed out as his head tipped backward and hit the wall.
Her sweet lips curved into a smile around his throbbing member just before she sucked him further into her mouth. The suction was delicious, tight on the way in, soft on the way out, as she moved in a slow and steady pace. Her tongue scraped along the underside, wiggling every now and then when it neared the smooth ridge at the head.
God, he wanted to disappear down her throat, thrust himself so deep that she was full of him, so deep that he could feel the muscles swallowing him down. But she was cautious. He could tell by her controlled movements that she was trying hard not to pass that barrier between smooth sailing and gagging. So as much as he wanted to get some deep throat action, he knew she would never go for it.
"Yeah, luv, jus' like that," he rasped. His hips began to roll in time with her movements and he could feel himself slipping in farther. "Use your hand, baby. Play with my balls."
Her eyebrows went up at his request, but she didn't hesitate to honor it. It was a timid touch at first, not more than a tickle, but soon her tiny hand was grasping him and rolling the sac with her fingers, kneading with a gentle yet firm pressure that sent sparks of pleasure up the base of his spine and straight through his cock.
The girl was a born bloody natural at this. In fact, she felt so good that if he didn't stop her soon he wouldn't make it past the opening act.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands and eased himself back. "Buffy, gotta stop."
"Why?" she whined.
With a sinful smirk, he said, "Tit for tat. It's my turn t' have a li'l taste. C'mon up here." He crooked his finger at her and wiggled it enticingly.
Well, he thought it had been enticing, at least, but when she didn't make an attempt to stand up, he began to wonder. Maybe she really wasn't ready to stop going down on him.
"You can always do it some more later, kitten. No need t' pout."
She shook her head. "No, that's...I mean, I liked doing it, but..."
What the hell was she on about? Patience wearing dangerously thin, William reached down and grabbed her wrists, pulling her to her feet. She gave a half-hearted protest on the way up, but didn't struggle to get away. His hand slid beneath the silky curtain of her hair and grasped the back of her neck.
"But what?" he asked, his gaze piercing straight through her.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she looked down, away from his intense stare. "What I meant to say was that you don't have to do that."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Do what?"
"You know," she began as she quickly stole a glance at him, "put your mouth down there."
"You're bloody kiddin', right? O' course I have to."
A frown turned her face sour and she became defensive. "Why? It's not like it's freakin' required or anything."
"Well, it should be." He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, tasting himself on the sweet flesh of her mouth and the sensation made his desire spike sharply. "Been dreamin' of tastin' you, Buffy. For so soddin' long. It's all I've been able t' think about. You an' your hot li'l body, of bein' able t' touch your skin, smell your fresh, girly scent while I'm makin' you sweat. An' now I've finally got you in my arms an' you think I'm not gonna take what I've been wantin' since the first time you bloody ditched an' I had t' come find your delectable ass? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are."
Her mouth gaped open and she blinked dumbly for several long seconds. "I..."
"Trust me, baby, you're gonna love every minute of it. I'll make sure you do," he told her.
"O-Okay."
"Now, give me those lips. Wanna taste you again," he said in a rough rasp before tugging her head in his direction. His mouth slammed into hers and he kissed her with everything he had, devouring her with lips, teeth and tongue. God, she tasted like sweet cloves, spicy and hot, and he couldn't get enough.
His hands trailed down her sides, brushing against the full curves of her breasts, sliding over the sensual swell of her hips and then he bent slightly, placing his hands behind her knees. When he stood straight, he picked her right off the floor and moved her legs to hook around his waist. She latched on to him, clinging to his body like he was her lifeline, and held on tight as he walked them across the room.
He set her down on top of the dryer, her legs dangling off the side of the red appliance, and gripped the hem of her tight, little shirt. "Arms up, luv," he told her, and she quickly complied. Pulling up, he dragged the shirt off and threw it on the machine behind her.
She wasn't wearing a bra and William was suddenly greeted with the glorious sight of her bare breasts. They were on the smaller side, but full and perky, tipped with rose-tinged nipples that stood at attention. A light pink flush covered her skin and her chest was heaving as she panted.
"Bloody perfect," he murmured as he stared reverently at her bared flesh.
"They're not too small? I've always thought they were. I was even thinking about getting a boob job."
His eyes flicked up, not believing what she had just spouted off. Boob job? What the sodding- "What the soddin' hell are you talkin' about? You don't need that. You're perfect jus' the way you are."
Her shrugging shoulders made her breasts jiggle slightly and she gave him a lopsided smile that was more timid than nonchalant. "I thought maybe you liked bigger ones."
"Why would you think that?"
Once again she shrugged and that same smile appeared on her lips. "I dunno."
"Well, for the record, I don't have a preference one way or another as long as they look exactly like these," he said as he palmed the two firm globes, lifting them slightly.
"Really?"
"I'll say it again if you want t' hear it, luv. Bloody perfect."
He leaned in to trail a kiss from her mouth to her soft cheek, down her slender neck and over her delicate collar bone, and finally through the valley of her bloody perfect breasts. A breath caught in her chest as he licked one hardened peak and rolled his tongue around it. His fingers slid over its twin, pinching it lightly before rubbing away the slight sting.
His left hand drifted away from her breast, down, down, down until his fingertips felt the edge of her little shorts. He made quick work of the fastenings before breaking away so that he could slide the bottoms off of her. The soft denim fell to the floor with a clank as the metal button hit the concrete.
The sight of her, splayed on the red appliance, skin flushed and dewy, naked except for a tiny pair of boy-cut purple panties, set him on fire. He felt like he was losing control, well, whatever control he had left, that is. His hands itched to feel every inch of her and his mouth watered in anticipation of her sweet taste.
"Do you know how soddin' beautiful you are?" he murmured as he traced the waistband of her underwear, dipping underneath ever so slightly.
That innocent peachy blush returned to her cheeks and she smiled up at him. "Really?"
"Mmhmm." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the soft, taut skin of her stomach, whispering kisses down until he reached the silky material of her panties. His teeth hooked around the elastic band and he slowly began to slide them off of her. As the fabric reached her knees, his hands took over, pulling the undergarment the rest of the way off.
Her scent washed over him and his eyes drifted closed for a moment to savor it. He'd had dreams about this smell, but the real thing surpassed anything his brain could have conjured up. Musk and citrus and warmth with just a hint of berry from whatever soap she had used that morning. He inhaled it deep, letting it fill his lungs and permeate into his blood until he was drunk on it.
His hands had found their way back to her, resting just above her knees and he pressed his thumbs into the delicate skin just on the inside of her legs. There were a few places on a woman's body that lived on that border between completely innocent and so very dirty; this was one of them and William felt a thrill shoot through him at the idea. It should have been chaste, after all, touching her knee, but here she was wantonly naked like something out of a Renaissance painting and his fingers were starting up that path to heaven. It may have been a perfectly safe touch...if it weren't for the devious thoughts that accompanied it.
"Fuck, Buffy," he swore, sucking in air through his teeth. "Jus' wanna eat you up. Gonna watch me, li'l girl?"
He slid her closer to the edge of the dryer, her bottom pivoting on the rounded side just enough to keep her steady. Dropping to his knees, he tossed both of her legs over his shoulders and gazed at the soft, wet petals of her pussy. Then he quirked an eyebrow up at her. "Nobody's ever done this for you before, baby?"
Her chest was rapidly rising and falling with her quickened breaths and she stared at him, wide-eyed, for a beat before biting on her lower lip and shaking her head.
And he was really too excited about that. On the list of wrong and bad things he'd done, especially today, this was probably the worst. Oh, he was fucking elated that he would be the first man to ever taste her, but he shouldn't be. He was taking something from her, something she'd never get back and if he were at least a halfway decent man, he would be sobering up and tamping down his desire to save her from his wickedness.
Luckily for the devil perched on his shoulder, he had thrown decency out the window the moment her hand found his dick.
He licked his lips then trailed them up the inside of her thigh. A little sound rumbled in her throat and William looked up at her face to catch her expression. She was staring at him, eyelids heavy with lust, mouth slightly ajar as she panted.
"Feel good?" he asked her as his right arm snaked around her leg to let his hand rest on the curled nest of golden hair covering her mons.
She swallowed, replying breathlessly, "Yes."
He smirked and pulled up on her flesh with his hand, making it taut. His eyes stayed locked on her face as he stuck his tongue out and made one long pass from the bottom of her pussy to the top. Buffy jerked in his grasp, whimpering from the sensation, and threw her head back.
His tongue made another pass, collecting the sweet moisture that had flowed from her and he hummed in approval at the taste. If he had thought her smell had been intoxicating, it was nothing compared to her tart honey flavor. It was exotic, like some sort of tropical fruit baked under the hot sun with undercurrents of salt. From the very second it flooded his taste buds, he knew he wouldn't ever stop craving for it.
Hell, now that he had touched her, tasted her, William knew he was doomed to his addiction to her. She was the very finest drug and he was hooked.
Sucking in one fleshy lip of her pussy, he brought his other hand up and straightened his middle finger. He pressed the pad of it down on her clit, sending a bolt of sexual electricity through her body, and flicked his wrist.
"Mist- Ungh! W-William!" she cried out.
He chuckled lowly at her slip. "Love you callin' out my name like that, Buffy. Wanna hear it again."
He slid his finger down, then twisted it pad-side up as he reached her tight entrance and sunk his digit into its hot, pulsing depths. Her walls clenched around his finger, muscles fluttering in anticipation. He dipped his head forward and captured her clit between his lips, drawing the excited button into his mouth.
She was squirming now, hips barely able to keep still as he pumped his finger in and out of her and lavished attention on her clit with tongue and teeth. Every muscle in her body was tight, tense, begging for release. William doubled his efforts by adding another finger and flattening his tongue against her erect nub, shaking his head furiously and causing a delicious friction that set off her first orgasm.
As she convulsed, he removed his fingers and lapped up the pearly fluid rushing from deep inside of her. His thumb wiggled against her clit, trying to prolong her release for as long as he could.
Moments later, she was collapsing against the cool, red surface of the dryer. He watched, enraptured, as she tried to catch her breath, her limbs still twitching from the violence of her orgasm. She was making this soft cooing noise that snagged in his heart and caused a pang of regret to stab at his gut.
"Shit," he muttered. Swiping a hand over his face, he made a wobbly attempt at standing. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and gazed down at Buffy's peaceful face.
Fine fucking time for your bloody conscience to kick in, mate, he thought.
Not wanting to delve too deeply into his guilt just now, William pushed it aside and focused on trying to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. He bent down and picked up Buffy's discarded clothing, holding them in one hand as he tried to straighten out his own rumpled state.
He was just zipping up his pants when Buffy pushed herself upward and frowned at him. "Where are you going?" she asked softly, confusion and hurt marring her hoarse voice.
"I- Buffy, this was..." He trailed off because he couldn't bring himself to say the words. Not when she was looking at him with fear and sadness and something worse. Betrayal, maybe?
"No!" she cried. "You don't get to say that. Not now! Not after..."
His hand drove itself roughly through his hair. "We can't do this, luv. I'm...too old for you and you're so..." He turned his eyes up to meet hers, which only made what he was feeling worse. It didn't matter how many ways he condemned it in his head, he was utterly lost to this girl.
She was quiet then she said, "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're worried about."
"You're-" He blinked stupidly. Then he came to his senses. "No, that isn't what I'm bloody worried about."
Her arms came up to wrap around her chest and she crossed her legs in a poor attempt at shielding her nudity. "Then why, William?"
It was so much easier to deal with her when she was posturing and flashing that attitude of hers. Now, all he could see was the vulnerability in her eyes, the fear of rejection and it was sodding killing him. Worst part of it was that this could have been avoided had he just been able to resist her advances. But fuck, he was like a dying man in the desert and what she had been offering up was a tall drink of cool, fresh water. She was his obsession and he hadn't been strong enough to say no.
He flashed a cheerless smile. "Because there's a reality outside of this room and you an' I? We jus' won't work out there, luv."
Tears welled up in her eyes and her skin flushed bright red. Her tiny hands balled up in to tight fists and she slammed them down on her thighs. "Fuck reality. Reality sucks, Mr. Pratt, and I don't think I should have to follow these stupid rules that I never chose in the first place. Nobody asked me if..."
"What? Nobody asked you what, Buffy?" he inquired, taking a step towards her. It almost sounded like she might tell him what was really going on before she let her thought trail off unfinished.
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. None of it does."
"Hey," he said. He tipped her chin up with his hand and gazed in to her glassy green eyes. "It matters. Jus' tell me what's goin' on and we can fix it, luv."
His reassurance didn't exactly have the desired effect on her. Not at all because a second later she was sobbing uncontrollably, tremors shaking her naked form as she buried her face in her hands. He wrapped his arms around her body and cradled her head against his shoulder as she cried against him.
"Shhh," he whispered in her hair.
"I-I l-l-love you Wi-Will-illiam."
His whole body froze then. What had she just said?
"P-please," she pleaded, "I n-need you."
"Buffy, you don't know what you're sayin'," he forced out.
Her head moved and suddenly he felt her heated lips brush against the sensitive skin of his neck. The gentle touch went straight to his cock and the erection that had just begun to die down came roaring back to life. Her tongue was licking the salt away from his skin, bathing it in warmth and nerve-tingling sensation.
She reached in between their bodies and unfastened his pants once more, his cock so eager to be free of its confines that it sprung out against her hand. Her fingers curled around the length of it and tugged at the hard member until William's head fell forward in acquiescence.
He didn't want to fight it anymore. In fact, he was amazed that he had been able to fight it at all. He wanted Buffy and she wanted him, it was as simple as that. Fuck the rules. Fuck the law. Fuck his career and her parents and the reality that lay just outside the Summers' family laundry room. The only thing that mattered right now was her.
His fingers weaved themselves in to her hair and jerked her head back. She gave out a startled cry which he quickly swallowed with a deep kiss. Her body relaxed in his arms and she moaned into his mouth. He brushed her hand away from his dick, and he pulled her forward until the head of his cock was brushing against her wet heat.
"Gonna love you so good, kitten," he murmured in to her ear. Then he was thrusting upward as he pushed her down onto his hard length, sinking inch by inch into her velvet-soft depths. They both cried out as he stretched the walls of her pussy before pulling back to plunge in again.
She hadn't lied about her virginity. There hadn't been any barrier to breach and the sounds she was making weren't ones of pain, but she might as well have been for how tight she was. Those silken walls clenched around him so fiercely that he thought he was going to explode.
His knees were slamming up against the side of the dryer, but all he could feel was Buffy. She was all around him, her scent, her taste, her voice screaming out his name as he thrust into her hot pussy. Her fingernails were digging into his shoulders and her legs were wrapped around his waist, clinging to him like a lifeline.
It was frantic, hurried and before he could stop himself, his balls were tightening painfully. As the first few notes of her orgasm were sung out in her wailing voice, William quickly pulled out of her and pumped his fist over his length once before spilling his release onto the golden skin of her thigh. His hips jerked erratically as he rode out on a wave of pure ecstasy, eyes squeezed shut and throat vibrating in a grunt.
They were both still for what seemed like a millennium. He was the first one to move, lifting his head to catch her face. She had a dazed sort of grin on her swollen lips, eyes glazed over with the euphoria of her release. For the first time in months, she actually looked...happy.
"You okay, luv?" he asked, voice thick.
But before she could answer him, his cellphone starting going off.
It was the school.
Author's Chapter Notes:
The bad news: obviously, this isn't one of my many WIPs and is, in fact, a new fic. The good news: it's actually complete! I had originally started this for the Back To School Fall Ficathon 2008 at taboo_spuffy, but never finished it in time to submit it. All mistakes are mine.