All my lovers are but one.
The girl who stole glances with a furtive frown
the one who be-puddinged my uncle a dripping crown
Innocently knowing she held my hands
Her mind a passport to unfathomed lands
A mind which then betrayed her
She, the displaced warrior with her flashing eyes
saw in my oaths of love a proof of lies.
I had never deserved my radiant love
So her heart was stolen from above.
Leaving her soul within its perfect form.
Indifferent to me, she will not warm.
And yet my home is she,
Alone together we must be. -William Pratt-
(as written by the lovely Minx DeLovely)
Chapter 24
One step closer to her – that was all William wanted. One more step in the dance. He feared he’d pressed Buffy too far, too fast, however.
After giving her the necklace in the cemetery, she’d gone so silent that he was at a loss, once again, as to the cause. She smiled at him, watched him carefully, but seemed to have sunk down beneath the surface where he could only guess at her thoughts and intentions.
They journeyed back to the hotel by mid-afternoon and made final arrangements for their departure the next morning. He’d telegraphed the Pennsylvania Railroad to secure their seats, guaranteeing them the forward-facing pair, which would convert into the lower sleeping bunk. According to his guidebook the lower bunk would afford them the greatest comfort, although how privacy was accommodated in the Pullman car was something he couldn’t quite comprehend.
Buffy was as reserved at dinner as she’d been for most of the day. She wasn’t pulling away from him, precisely, for she watched him carefully as they dined and when they left the dining room, she didn’t wait for him to offer his arm, but reached out to grasp it without invitation.
When he suggested that she take an opportunity to bathe that evening, as there would be little opportunity to do so on their journey, she seemed most eager to do so. She returned to the room smelling faintly of roses. Damp tendrils of hair clung to her neck in a most tantalizing manner. He longed to trace a fingertip down that bit of damp hair, following a line to her delicate collarbone where her skin glowed a bright pink from the hot water. And where his fingertip had gone, the tip of his tongue could then follow. Would she taste like roses or peaches, he wondered, and he felt his cock harden at the thought.
“… would you like to have a turn?” She asked, green eyes flashing.
“A … turn?” He muttered stupidly.
“A bath, William.” A small smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh, yes. Of course, yes.” He gathered some items at random, hoping that some of them would be appropriate to the task and made his way down the hall to the bathing room.
He bathed in relatively quick order, scrubbing his skin until it nearly shone and soaping his hair as well. After toweling off, he dressed minimally – leaving off his waistcoat and not bothering with fastening his cuffs as he’d be readying for bed momentarily.
When he returned to their room he expected to find her in her nightgown, possibly even abed. She was not, however. She was still in her rose-patterned gown, standing in the precise spot he’d left her. She turned to look at him and smiled, but maintained the strange silence that had begun when he’d given her the necklace.
He’d clearly made her uncomfortable with the gift. It had been intended to show his deep affection for her as Buffy, but he should have known that she would find his advances too invasive. Like an overeager schoolboy, he’d pushed too hard. How could he consider himself a lover, a husband when he was so clumsy when it came to her heart? Damn his foolish efforts.
What he needed was the right thing to talk about – to ease them into a much needed conversation about their relationship. While he’d been bathing, he’d come up with the perfect topic.
“I meant to thank you for your quick thinking earlier today, on the El train.”
“I was thinking on the El?” She shook her head.
“When that young woman approached me. On our return trip, I watched a similar encounter with another gentleman. I do believe she was after the man’s purse.”
“Like a pickpocket?”
“Precisely. I believe your intervention quite saved the day and frightened her off.”
She smiled, looking just a little bit smug, and brought her hand up to her neckline to allow a fingertip to toy with the silver stake dangling from her necklace. It wasn’t the action of a woman who was displeased with her gift, so why had it brought this strange silence from her?
He placed his clothes in his trunk before turning to face her.
“Buffy, I’d like to speak with you about something, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh good,” she said, relief writ large across her expression. “I wanted to talk to you, too.”
“You did?” He swallowed, and his heartbeat thudded strangely in his throat.
She nodded and took a step toward him. “You first.”
“Ah, well. Yes.” She looked at him expectantly. “It was about the necklace I’d given you. I fear that it may have not been an entirely appropriate choice, and if it has given offense for some reason, you should know that I would never…”
“What?” She cut him off. “William, I cherish this. Don’t you know that? You can’t apologize for it.”
“I just didn’t understand why you had gone so silent since I’d given it to you, love.”
Buffy bit her lip. Her white teeth pulling her plump bottom lip into her mouth made his cock thicken slightly, base creature that he was.
She stepped towards him, then reached out and wove her fingertips into the damp curls just above his ear.
“It’s me who should apologize, William. I love the gift. It’s my favorite piece of jewelry that I’ve ever gotten – yes, even above my wedding band. I’m sorry that I went so silent. I was just … processing things, I guess.”
Her unique way with words stuck him, as they always did. Just then she made her mind sound like a factory, busily manufacturing thoughts.
When she took a step closer to him, he found it difficult to breathe, to look at her, yet he maintained his gaze. She leaned up, ever so slowly, and pressed her mouth to his. Her breath sighed out against his skin as her lips brushed against his.
His arms moved about her waist of their own accord, tugging her closer to him. His skin, still warm from the bath, felt as though it was radiating heat, spiraling warmth from his body to hers.
She slid the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip, tracing it in a line before tugging it into her mouth and sucking on it gently. He felt his legs begin to tremble at that, and his cock reacted immediately, twitching and begging for attention.
Her hands threaded through his hair, tugging him closer to her. He went willingly, like water down a drain.
It was she who broke the embrace, pulling back and looking delightfully disheveled. Her cheeks were glowing, and her lips were slightly swollen from their kissing.
She panted slightly as she spoke. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Yes.” He was delighted to find his voice still functioned, but thought not to push his luck and say more than that.
She took a deep breath before letting it out in a whoosh. “It’s about … well…”
Since his arm was still about her waist, he squeezed her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
“It’s about sex, really,” she blurted. “And the wooing thing. See, I know you said that you wanted a chance to woo, and the thing is…”
He winced.
God, not this. So this was what had caused her to become so silent - his foolish rules regarding sex. Looking at her face, he felt such shame. He’d hoped a chance to woo her might help restore some of what he knew they could be together – but from her point of view, he could very well see it as seeming to her as emotional blackmail. That he was forcing her to give her heart before they could truly live as a married couple.
“I love you, Buffy,” he said, fool enough to dive in completely. When she tried to interrupt, he continued. “I know that I had asked for an attempt to gain your love before we commenced marital relations, darling – but you should know, you were under no obligation whatsoever to do so.”
She looked at him and cocked her head. “There were a lot of commencing and whatsoevers in that sentence, William. What is it you want to say?”
“I love you and I want you, Buffy. I asked for a chance to woo you, and you’ve given me that chance. Thank you.” He leaned down to kiss her tenderly on the cheek.
“But that’s the thing, William. With the whole ‘love you’ package. The deal is …”
“Please, darling. You needn’t say another word. In fact, I ask you not to. Any declarations of your feelings at this juncture would feel somewhat forced, would make me feel even more of a cad.”
She opened her mouth again as if to speak, then sighed out another breath. “What do you want, William?”
“You, if you’ll have me.”
She reached out and began to toy with the buttons of his shirt, slipping one and then the other free. He could only watch her fingertips working through the white fabric – imagining what they would feel like against his skin.
When she freed the last button, she slid the shirt off his shoulders and lay it on top of his open trunk. Palms open, she slid her hands up his arms until her fingertips gripped his forearms tightly; her hands were a balm – radiating from his arms to the center of his chest.
She untucked his undershirt and slipped her hands beneath the hem to run teasing patterns along his abdomen. He hissed his approval, then found enough of his mind to reach out to her, placing trembling fingers against the buttons at her throat.
He looked at her, questioningly. “May I, Buffy?”
An indulgent smile bloomed on her face. “Yes, William, you may.” He knew she thought him to be hopelessly old fashioned in these matters, yet he dared hope she was not irritated at his request.
Working as quickly as his shaking hands would allow, he slid her buttons free at both bodice and wrist, then eased her dress down. Buffy tugged her petticoat down to join the gown, then draped the pair over the back of the chair.
She was wearing a dark pink chemise and bloomers set. Since she’d dressed so quickly following her bath, it clung to damp portions of her skin in the most tantalizing manner. Her nipples pressed against the satin, and the material clung to the globe of her breasts. At the apex of her thighs he could see her curls, damp and dark, clearly visible through the thin fabric.
Buffy stepped closer to him, with an almost shy expression on her face. He leaned down and began to kiss a line from her collarbone , up her throat, to her earlobe – where he bit, very carefully, in the spot where the shell of her ear began, in that sensitive spot which always drove her wild.
“God, William!” she groaned, growing slack in his arms. “That is … holy god. How did you know how to …?” Threading her fingers through his hair, she tugged him closer. “Mmm, do that. More.”
As he carefully tended to her ear, nibbling it gently as his fingertips teased up the hem of her chemise to dip into her bellybutton in that way that made her wriggle, the uniqueness of their situation dawned on him.
Although he had made love with Buffy/Elizabeth many times, although she’d taught him every step of the dance, she had never made love with him before. The truth and power of that thought swept through him like a gale.
He felt his legs tremble at the awe of it - to see her experience them for the first time. To teach her the ways of pleasure that she’d taught him.
When he pulled back from her, he was panting and could feel his cheeks burning.
“Bend down, William. I want to try that with you.”
He had no choice but to comply. Buffy’s lips whispered gentle kisses along his throat and up to his ear. Her breath filled his ear and it felt like sunshine. When her teeth began to bite gently on his earlobe, he felt as though her mouth was attached to an invisible cord that ran directly through the center of his body to his cock. With each nibble of her teeth, his cock would bob, a puppet on a string.
“Perhaps …” he suggested, “… bed?” He’d hoped to be able to hold onto the ability to form sentences, but as usual, his wife had a talent for making him lose his way around the English language.
She sat down on their bed while he removed his bracers, trousers, shoes and socks. After he turned off the light, he went to the window and pulled back the curtain enough to dimly illuminate the room by city glow.
When he joined her on the bed, he positioned himself to sit behind her, so that she rested between his knees, with her back to him. Very gently, he began removing her hairpins. For all the erotic hopes he’d had for the night, this simple nightly tradition was a thing he’d missed dearly.
After removing a hairpin, he’d gently lay her hair down, kissing her shoulder or a bit of neck each time. She would coo or wriggle pleasantly against his groin with each removal. As he removed the last pin, he found the words he’d been looking for.
“Buffy, I should wish to consider your wishes as far as procreational matters are concerned,” he said, sounding every bit as awkward as he felt.
She turned to look at him with a disappointed expression. “I don’t think of this as recreational, William.”
“Ah, no, darling. I mean to say, when we make love, I should wish to consider your feelings about, well … making a baby, to put it bluntly.”
Dawn broke across her face. “Oh that!” She paused for a moment, but she did not look away to consider his words, as was her usual style. She looked directly at him. It was wonderful and extremely unnerving at the same time.
“We should probably just do whatever we did when we had sex before, in the time I can’t remember. What’d we do then?”
His breath caught in his throat at that. For the first time since the incident, she hadn’t referred to that time as ‘when I was Elizabeth.’ When she referred to it instead as, ‘that time I can’t remember,’ it was the first real step he’d seen that she had accepted the truth and could see herself as one being: Elizabeth and Buffy.
He swallowed and attempted to place a calm and steady demeanor upon his face.
“We took no precautions, Buffy. You said you weren’t entirely certain that slayers had the ability to bear children, but you’d said that should it happen, you wouldn’t mind that. I certainly understand, however, given our current circumstances …”
All his words and thoughts were cut off immediately when his wife placed a hand on each of his legs, then ran her fingertips up his inner thighs towards his groin.
As she leaned up, she whispered into his mouth, “Don’t overthink it, William,” before slipping her tongue past his teeth and sliding it against his in a most erotic fashion.
“I … gah,” William heard himself respond.
Since she was still encircled by his legs, he took advantage of that fact and tightened them around her thighs, causing her to lean back. When she did so, he leaned down to capture her nipple, which was pushing out the satin fabric like a button. After suckling on one, to her enthusiastic groans, he took the other in his mouth while he rubbed the damp material against her other breast.
He shuddered when her hands reached beneath his undershirt and skated along his abdomen, causing the muscles to bunch and jump in response. She tugged the hem of it upwards, and he quickly complied, removing the garment.
“You’re really very nice to look at,” she said, running her palm across his chest. Again, saying the most perplexing things and keeping him totally off guard. Lifting her hand to his face, she traced a fingertip along his eyebrow and smiled. “Even if you had a scar there, you’d still be a striking man.”
“I find myself rather speechless, Buffy. Instead of finding words, I can only feel my heart in my throat and you’re the one doing the talking. I suspect we’re doing this a bit backwards, love.”
“Don’t we always?” She had him there – she really did.
The necklace he’d given her winked at him, and he leaned down to deliver a line of kisses along her throat, feeling the thrum of her heartbeat beneath his lips. When her sighs became frantic, and she began to tug his hair, he licked a bold line between her breasts, still clinging to her damp flesh.
She tugged her chemise up and off her head, then shook her hair out before wriggling up his lap to give him a passionate kiss. When she’d finished she was panting and her green eyes seemed to illuminate the small space between them. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and began to suckle it while her fingernails traced teasing patterns on his pectorals.
William placed an arm behind her and maneuvered her down on the bed, so her head fell upon a pillow. Her hair was in disarray, and her breasts were rising and falling with her heavy breath, creating a most fetching spectacle. He paused. He wanted so to tell her what this meant to him, what she meant to him. He wanted to thank her for her bravery throughout all of this, her trust. But when he opened his mouth to speak of it, he made the mistake of looking at her again.
Her gaze was a lighthouse in his storm and she was smiling. She was giving him a patient expression. One that seemed full of love, at least to his besotted eyes. She tilted her head and graced him with a beguiling gaze. So despite his better self, who told him to take a moment and quote poetry to her, or thank her for her patience and wisdom through their storm or do a thousand other things besides make love with his wife, his baser self took command and answered her come hither smile instead.
He leaned down and began licking long strokes under each breast, like a jungle cat. She’d taught him how much it pleased her when he’d done that in the past. Her eyes widened and she gasped “William!” before becoming monosyllabic.
William sucked a nipple into his mouth, delighted there was no longer a satin barrier between his tongue and her sensitive flesh. He wriggled his tongue against it rapidly, until her hips began to twitch slightly in response, then he brought it deep into his mouth, alternatively suckling it and teasing the tip with his tongue.
Her breath was coming in shaking gulps, when he slid his fingertips to the drawstring of her bloomers. With one careful tug the bow came free. He urged her hips off the bed and slipped her satin garment off before quickly sliding his drawers to the floor.
The dark curls at the juncture of her thighs were damp and glistened in the faint light – he couldn’t tell if it was from her bath or arousal. Nestling between her legs, he laid his head down on her thigh and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent and capturing this moment in a mental tintype as well as his jittering mind could manage.
When he pressed the pad of his fingertips against her inner thigh, she jumped slightly. He soothed her with a bouquet of kisses to her thigh until her could feel her bunched muscles begin to grow slack. He wanted her to tense, but not yet.
When he nuzzled his nose in her curling hair, he felt her ass muscles clench. “Shhh, love. Relax. Let me …” he murmured, finding words at long last.
Her breath came whooshed out a shuddering sign and he felt her body grow lax beneath his hands. Very gently, he traced a line around her labia with his fingertip. Since words seemed to ease her, he kept up a string of soft praise. “So pretty, Buffy. God, how I’ve missed you, missed us.”
Slipping a finger between her folds, he rubbed a path around her clitoris as she shivered her approval. When he leaned in to tease the bud with the tip of his tongue, she groaned his name.
As his tongue wriggled against her clit, he slipped his finger inside her moist channel, her hips rising slightly on the invasion as she cooed her acquiescence. He continued to flick his tongue against the bundle of nerves while he slipped a second finger into her. Eagerly, her hips rose to meet him and her breath came out as a ragged sigh.
“William! I…” she looked at him frantically.
He pulled his mouth from his administrations long enough to assure her. “I’ve got you, love.”
When he began to tap his two fingers up and down within her channel, she lifted her hips off the bed frantically. He met her need by speeding up his tempo and replacing his teasing tongue with fingers, pressing against her clitoris and squeezing.
“William, I need to … Can I …?”
“Show me, Buffy.”
Placing the palm of her hand in the center of his chest, she pushed him backward gently, so he was now laying lengthwise in their bed, but with his feet at the head. His cock stood up like a ship’s mast. She climbed up the length of him, delivering teasing licks, her tongue hot on his skin.
Once she was positioned over him, on all fours like a feral cat with her prize, she kissed him with a ferocity that left him panting. She then reached down to take his cock in her hand, the touch of her almost causing him to weep in relief.
Holding his cock in one hand, she at up and positioned herself so that his sensitized tip brushed against her dark curls. He couldn’t help but whimper as he watched her lips spread further apart and take him in – a most intimate kiss. She inched downward agonizingly slowly, impaling herself on him. When she’d completely lowered herself onto him, swallowing his cock completely, she swiveled her hips deliciously. He could feel his penis twitch and tug, held tightly by her walls – the invisible string running through his center felt attached and more sensitive than ever.
With a sigh, she raised her hips slightly, pulling herself up and away from him, before sliding back down on his groin with a delicious friction that made his breath come in gulps.
Helpless to do anything else, he grasped her hips in both hands, not to guide her movements, but to hold on for the ride.
She leaned forward and placed her palms on his chest, flexing her hands and causing her fingernails to dig in just slightly, a kitten wanting to play. He let out a shuddering sigh and felt his cock twitch inside her again.
Her hair splayed about by her movements, swaying against her bouncing breasts. Her nipples played a game of hide-and-seek between her tangled tresses as she undulated against him.
His climax was building and he couldn’t help but clench her hips a little tighter as he rose to meet her in an ever quickening pace. She was just ahead of him in that race, however. As she bucked upwards, he could feel her inner muscles begin to flex around his cock just as she slid down, impaling herself to the hilt once more.
“Oh, William, I’m …” Her eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze while she ground her pubic bone against him. Her channel walls clenched around him tightly for just a moment, then twitched in a series of little seizures that sent him completely over the edge. His balls tightened and he poured himself into her with a long burst and a shout. Just when he thought he was spent, another spasm of pleasure shot through his balls and out through the tip of his cock, coming in another agonizingly wonderful drawn-out spending.
Exhausted, she fell down onto his chest, drenched in sweat and still impaled upon his penis, which twitched within her.
He wrapped his arms around her, without words.
She wriggled against him and flexed, her channel walls hugging his cock. As she leaned up to kiss his mouth tenderly, she said in a whisper, “Now that I’ve got you speechless, finally, maybe you’ll let me say what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Gracing him with a smile so bright that it burned, she said, “I love you, William. By the way.”
~*~
Colorado City, Colorado - a dingy hole-in-the-wall, later that night
Though it was late, well past midnight, the saloon maintained a brisk business with nearly two dozen men still hard at work, over whiskey or cards or both. The serving girls, las senoritas me gusta as they were known, hovered near the table in the far corner where the more experienced players had gathered.
“How many cards you want, Billy?” the dealer slurred.
“Two,” Billy replied, discarding his two of clubs and six of hearts. On the deal he picked up another Jack, giving him three of a kind.
The other two players had folded, leaving only the player directly across from him to contend with. When Fatty upped the bid by a dollar, Billy saw him, seeing no point to raise considering his rapidly dwindling pile of coins.
“Full house.” Fatty slapped the cards down with a flourish, and Billy showed his own meager three of a kind with a shrug.
“Jus’ not my night tonight,” he mumbled, taking a deep draw of mescal from the dented tin cup by his side.
There was a slight commotion just inside the door and all eyes turned toward the entrance. A woman stood in the entryway, strikingly beautiful, with raven hair and wild eyes. Her gown was as filthy as those of the Spanish whores, but he could tell it had once belonged to a real lady. She cradled a small cloth-wrapped bundle in one arm which she’d tucked protectively beneath her bosom.
“Don’t make me cross,” the beauty snapped at the large man attempting to block her entrance.
Far more interested in this scenario, this woman, than he was in his cards, Billy stood up and wove a path towards the doorway.
“Is there some kind of trouble, Ma’am?” Billy asked. He was well known for his courteousness, among other things.
When the woman’s gaze turned to him, he felt her enter his mind like a physical presence. It was as if he’d been zapped by one of Tesla’s mad inventions. He stopped in his tracks and looked at her numbly. She trilled a giggle and snuck a quick glance toward the small bundle in her arm before holding a gloved hand out to Billy.
“I’m Drusilla,” she announced, causing those within earshot to burst out with nervous laughter. Billy, however, was not laughing. He felt a kind of chill along his spine and for once in his very verbose life, he found himself with nothing to say.
She remained frozen, holding her hand up as though he were a gentleman, a real god-damned gentleman, about to take a lady for a turn on the dance floor. He reached for her hand and he pressed his lips to the back of her bedraggled glove. “Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.”
That was all the invitation she needed to step even closer, bringing her body up tight against his. Moving her painted lips next to his ear, she sang faintly, so only he could hear, “But my darlin’ you will be always young and fair to me.”
He shook his head like a dog ridding water from his ears. “That song… My mother …” He sounded a damn fool and he know it, but how could she know it, his mother’s song?
“Poor motherless lamb, but then, aren’t we all?” She wove her head this way and that, reminding him very much of a sidewinder. Combined with the mescal and the most peculiar feeling in his head, he began to feel woozy.
“Would you like to take a walk with me, William?”
“William.” He paused, trying to shake loose of the peculiar fog that had settled around his mind. “Folks ‘round here don’t hang that handle on me, ma’am.”
“What do they call you?”
“Kid Antrim or just plain Billy. Of late they been callin’ me Billy the Kid. But they don’t call me William.”
“But you’d like it if they did, wouldn’t you, my prince?”
He still felt a strange tickling sensation in his mind. When he nodded his agreement it felt as if satiny strands of a spider’s thread had wrapped around his head and were tugging it this way and that.
“I know who you really are, William. And who you will become.” Drusilla placed her arm in his and tugged him toward the door. He had no resistance to offer her.
“Walk with me in the moonlight. We’ve silver and gold threads to find among the tumbleweeds, my William.”
And he followed at her heel, good dog that he was. Helpless to do anything else, he stepped out into the night and his becoming.
------------------------
Author’s Note:
William H. Bonney had curly brown hair, loved to dance and was left an orphan at the age of fourteen when his mother died of tuberculosis. Several acquaintances tell of him singing or humming his mother’s favorite song “Silver Threads Among the Gold” while he rode. He wasn’t killed until 1881 so he fit into William and Buffy’s timeline with no adjustments needed.
Billy the Kid carries a lot of mythological baggage. He’s vilified as a monster or honored as a wild west Robin Hood but rarely is he seen in the middle ground. Michael Wallis’ “Billy the Kid: The Endless Ride” is considered to be the most factual biography and I’ve used that as my template. Once he waltzes into my story, however, he’ll be largely a creature of my own making.
I try not to ask for feedback, but I’d be really interested in what you think about this turn of events – good, bad or ugly. I’ve been sort of bursting at the seams wanting to let Billy out of his cage! Also, real life has just become a shitshow, but I hope to be back with another chapter soon.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Lutamira, Science, DoriansKitten and Capella did the beta and many thanks to them. Mistakes? Mine still. Minx DeLovely helped a lot and wrote this lovely poem just out of the blue because she’s like that! Thanks to Amy for the banner.