Chapter Five
Wanting to clear his head first, William didn’t go straight home. He went to a nearby park and, once there, sat with his back against the trunk of a tree. His mind was spinning with the events of the day, from his kiss with Buffy to her confrontation with her ex-husband.
That kiss. He hadn’t ever felt anything like it, had never been so turned on before. He’d kissed other girls—fumbling snogs behind the bike shed back at his school in England, quick gropes in darkened corners of pubs he wasn’t supposed to have been in. He’d slept with them even.
None of them compared to how it had felt to have Buffy kissing him. The others had been girls; Buffy was a woman.
He sighed. That was the rub, wasn’t it? What had happened—was happening—between them shouldn’t have existed. She was the older woman, the forbidden fruit.
But—no. She had initiated the kiss. She had changed things. He stood up, suddenly determined. He didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to find out if things really had changed; he had a feeling that the longer he left it, the more likely it was that Buffy would deny what had happened.
He knew that this thing, this relationship between them was wrong, but damned if he was going to let it go before it even got started.
Finding a payphone, William fumbled in his pocket for change and fed it a couple of quarters. He listened impatiently to the tone, drumming his fingers against the handset. “Dawn? Is your mum there?”
His step-sister’s grumbling filled his ear, but she called for Jenny nevertheless.
“Hello? William?”
“Hey,” he said. “I’m stopping at Xander’s tonight. We’re at a crucial part of the game, and—”
“No explanations needed,” Jenny said. “I know how you boys are with your video games.”
“Great,” William replied. “See you tomorrow.”
He hung up and dialled in another number. “Hey Xan, I need your lying skills.”
“What’s up?”
William could hear his friend munching on something—probably pizza—on the other end of the line, and rolled his eyes. “If Jenny or my dad calls, I’m staying with you tonight, okay?”
“Sure, man.” Chew, chew, swallow. “What are you really up to? Hot date? Sexy rendezvous with the smokin’ Miss Summers?”
William frowned. After the initial discussion of the benefits of working at Miss Summers’ house over the summer, he hadn’t really talked about their developing relationship with Xander, and his friend’s remark cut a little too close to the truth.
“Replace ‘Miss Summers’ with ‘girl I met at the Bronze,’ and you’ve got the gist of it.”
“Gotcha. No problem, William. Xan-man’s on the case.”
“Thanks, mate,” William said and hung up the phone.
Taking a deep breath, he turned back in the direction of the town centre, wanting to pick up a couple of things before he re-appeared at Buffy’s house.
***
Nerves overtook him on the walk back to Buffy’s, and William paused at the end of the driveway, ready to turn around and go to Xander’s instead.
Half-turned in indecision, he didn’t see the front door open, didn’t realise that he had company, until she spoke.
“Will? What are you... Is there something wrong?”
He wasn’t sure what to say. The whole idea seemed silly now. Shoulders slumping, he walked up the driveway and came to a stop at the bottom of the steps. He held out the paper bag in his hand and tried to smile. “I brought you some food,” he said. “Chinese. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a bit of everything: chicken, duck, pork, some prawn crackers and rice…” He trailed off. “It was stupid, I’ll go.”
“Wait,” Buffy said, quickly. He felt her touch on his shoulder, light but solid, drawing him to her. “Come on. It’ll get cold if we stay out here much longer.”
William followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled out plates and piled them high with the food. She sent him a slight smile, and when they were seated at the table, he spent a few moments taking stock.
Buffy’s hair was damp, pulled back into a ponytail, and the ends were curling slightly, indicating a recent shower. She wore nothing but pyjama shorts and a tank top. Her eyes were slightly swollen, the redness at their edges revealing that she had probably spent some of the afternoon crying.
Now, she piled her fork high with chicken and rice, and seemed happy to ignore the mounting tension in the room.
“Buffy?” he said, when he couldn’t stand it any more.
“Hmm?”
“Are we going to talk about what happened today?”
She set her fork down and took a couple of deep breaths before replying. “What do you mean, exactly? The part where my ex showed up demanding I give up my house, or the part where I practically molested my seventeen-year-old student?”
“If that’s how you feel about it,” William said, voice rising in anger, “why’d you ask me in just now?”
“You brought me food,” she said. “That was sweet.”
William snorted. “Thanks, I guess.”
“What d’you want me to say?” Buffy asked. She stood up, eyes flashing. “That I can’t resist you?”
“It’d be a start.” William’s jaw clenched, a sudden irrepressible urge to laugh coming over him. He stood too, the scrape of his chair along the kitchen floor a harsh squeal that set his teeth on edge. “I’m gonna go. I can see that this was a mistake.”
He turned to leave, anger boiling in his veins. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, the argument, but it had left him feeling heated and charged with energy.
He had barely taken two steps towards the hallway, when Buffy stepped into his path. She looked to be arguing with herself, colour high on her cheeks as she met his eyes.
He stared her down, reading her expression easily. Anger and annoyance were prominent, but underneath he could see fear and worry and confusion. Deeper still, he saw the things she was trying to hide: desire and want, arousal and need.
He could no more resist her than he could stop breathing, and so he stepped into her kiss with a moan. Her face felt hot and fevered beneath his hands, her lips soft yet demanding underneath his own.
“Buffy,” he whispered against her mouth. “Buffy, I want you.”
She broke away with a gasp. “This is wrong,” she said. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
He kissed her again, swallowing her protests with hot, open-mouthed caresses. He felt it, the moment that she gave in, that she gave herself over to the craving and forgot about the consequences; her body slackened within his grasp, and then tightened again, like a coiled spring.
She pushed against his chest, walking him backwards until he hit the wall with a thump, their mouths still joined in a frantic kiss.
His heart pounded at the impact as he suddenly realised that this was real, that this was happening. He was more than likely going to have sex with Buffy Summers, the woman he had fancied for months, someone who should be forbidden to him but was instead here, in his arms, kissing him as if her life depended on it.
The thought spurred him on and made him bold. He ran his hands along her side, over the curves of her body, and up to cup her breasts.
Buffy’s hands were busy too, tracing the muscles of his back over his t-shirt and occasionally dipping beneath it to touch his skin.
William pushed his hips against hers, letting her feel the hard evidence of his arousal. She made a soft, mewling sound, and hitched her legs up around his waist, her centre cradling his cock, and even through the layers of fabric that separated them he could feel her pulsing, hot and wet with want.
In a sudden and swift movement, William had turned them around so that Buffy was the one now pressed to the wall. She kept her legs clamped around his waist, rocking against him so subtly that he thought it the sweetest form of torture.
He broke away from her kiss, so his lips could find the skin of her neck, and he trailed his tongue over her, tasting the saltiness of her sweat and her unique taste. He bit down lightly before continuing his path down her body, until he came to the material of her tank-top, which he pulled down, revealing her breasts to his gaze.
He stared at her, almost unable to believe that she was revealed to him this way, her breasts two perfect handfuls, her nipples hard and begging for his kiss.
William did just that, and she moaned. “You’ve done this before,” she said, breathless and sounding more than a little surprised.
“Yeah,” he replied, pulling away from her, knowing that she meant the whole act of sex, and not just what he had been doing at that moment. “You didn’t think I had?”
Blushing, Buffy looked away before meeting his eyes. “You’re young.”
William shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “Old enough,” he said, and punctuated his words with a swivel of his hips that left Buffy gasping.
“Upstairs,” she managed to say and wiggled against him as she tried to release his hold on her.
William swallowed and took a step back. He took Buffy’s hand and smiled, when she pulled her tank back up, covering her breasts.
To his questioning glance, she shrugged and bit her lip. “I’d feel stupid walking around with my boobs hanging out.”
“I don’t mind,” William replied. The fury of the kiss had calmed, but the heat between them remained, and he tugged impatiently on her hand, leading her towards the stairs.
“I bet you don’t,” Buffy said, and a wicked grin crossed her face. “I’ll take my shirt off again… if you can catch me.”
She slipped out of his grasp and ran for the stairs, taking them two-by-two until she got to the top.
William smirked and followed her up the stairs, pulling his shirt off as he went and dropping it into a crumpled pile on the steps. He followed Buffy’s laughter down the hallway, and watched her dart into the bathroom, only to emerge a moment later with something clutched in her hand.
He caught up to her just outside her bedroom and pressed her against the door, stealing another kiss from her lips.
“Got you,” he said, his hands already exploring the skin of her back and lifting her shirt up.
Buffy grinned. “Not quite,” she said, and a moment later the door fell open. She ducked out from under William’s arms and dashed across to the bed. Big and soft and made up with red linen, it looked as luxuriant as William remembered from the quick glimpse he’d had weeks ago, which had worked as fuel for his fantasies.
In none of his dreams had Buffy looked quite like this: a little dishevelled, her hair falling loose from its rubber band, wearing only an old tank top and pyjama shorts, biting her kiss-swollen lips as she sat back on her bed. This was a thousand times better than any fantasy, though, because it was real and it was here and it was now.
He walked across to the bed slowly, every step measured and precise until he stood before her. With a shaking hand, he tucked a strand of Buffy’s hair behind her ear, smoothing it down before trailing his fingers across her cheek.
She stared up at him, wide-eyed. “William?”
“Just can’t believe I’m really here,” he said. He shook his head a little and knelt on the bed next to her. He kissed her before she had time to think about what he’d said, before the doubts and confusion he’d seen in her eyes before crept back unannounced.
They moved up the bed, kissing all the while, the air becoming hot and fevered once more. He slid his hands underneath the material of her tank-top and quickly pulled it over her head, his mouth going dry when she lay topless beneath him.
He traced the shape of her with his palms, over the curves of her breasts, into the narrower point of her waist and then out again at the slight flare of her hips. His fingers brushed the well-worn cotton of her shorts, smoothing the material down before touching lightly between her legs, to the place that made her jerk and gasp.
Seconds later, William pulled the shorts down her legs and discarded them off the edge of the bed. Now naked, Buffy lay before him, unabashed and aroused. She was nervous, he could see that in the dart of her eyes, but then so was he.
Swallowing, William reached for the top of his jeans. Buffy’s eyes followed his every movement, and he felt a hot blush fill his cheeks when he’d finished undressing. This was not the first time he’d done this—or even the second—but it sure felt like it was.
“Relax,” Buffy said, sitting up. She drew him down on top of her, and William groaned at the feel of their skin pressed together. “We’re doing this.” She seemed to be reassuring herself, too, and she kissed him again, her hands tunnelling into his hair and curling it around her fingers.
Pressing himself closer, if that were even possible, William closed his eyes in surrender to the feel of her folds against his hard erection. He rocked his hips experimentally and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure.
Buffy broke the kiss to reach across to the bedside table, where she fumbled for the box of condoms retrieved from the bathroom. She handed him one, and he tore off the wrapper with shaking hands before sitting back onto his heels and rolling it down his length.
Reaching for him once more, Buffy settled him between her legs, grasping him lightly to guide him inside. The feel of her hand on his cock made him brave, and he surged forwards, pushing into her as deep as he could go.
Her moans echoed his, and William couldn’t believe the sensation of being sheathed inside of her. Pleasure radiated throughout his body, and when he pulled back and thrust again, Buffy locked her legs around his waist as though to keep him there, as close to her as possible.
She put her arms above her head, her fingers twisting into the material of the pillow as she met his every thrust, little moans and gasps of enjoyment falling from her lips every few moments.
Pressing his forehead against hers, William felt himself nearing the edge and willed himself to hold on, to make this last as long as possible. He slowed his movements, drawing out of her before leisurely pushing back in.
“Don’t stop,” Buffy said. She reached between their bodies to where they were joined, rubbing her clit and making herself gasp, bucking against him and squeezing her eyes shut in bliss. Her heels pressed into his ass, and then he felt her clenching and pulsing around him, her climax tearing a scream from her throat.
The feel of Buffy’s orgasm sent shockwaves down William’s spine, and he sped up his thrusts once more, caring about little more than his own completion. His back arched, and the fire in his belly spiralled through him as he came with a shout, sweat pooling on his back, and his breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
They lay together for several long moments, before William pushed himself up. He pulled the condom off and hesitated for a moment until he felt her hand on his arm.
“In the corner,” she said, nodding towards the trash can.
He hurried to throw it away, and when he got back to the bed he found Buffy burrowed under the covers, lying on her side and smiling up at him. William slid onto the mattress and pulled the sheets up around his shoulders, turning to face her and grinning back. He didn’t know what to say, and so they smiled stupidly at each other in silence.
Eventually, a giggle from Buffy broke the quiet, and he couldn’t stop a laugh from bubbling forth either.
“Sorry,” she said, when the laughs had subsided. “I’m still riding the high.”
“Don’t apologise,” he said, then paused. “That was amazing.”
“It was pretty good, huh?”
“Just good?” William asked, eyebrow raised. He kept his tone light, but inwardly worried that she hadn’t enjoyed it, that he hadn’t been good enough for her.
Perhaps she sensed the change in mood, because she sobered, and reached for his hand beneath the covers. “It was, Will.” She frowned, and it looked like she wanted to say more, but she shook her head and put her mouth close to his ear, her hand beneath the covers moving towards his cock. “Ready to go again?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Two updates in a week! Unfortunately, I doubt it will be a regular occurence. Bit of a longer chapter this time and things are moving swiftly along - enjoy! Many thanks to my readers and reviewers, and of course my beta Sotia. :)