They didn’t make it to the bedroom.
He crushed his mouth to hers and hungrily pushed his tongue inside; she moaned into his mouth as she reached up to wrap her legs around him. He sank his fingers into her ass and began moving them towards the bedroom, still kissing her.
He couldn’t stop, he knew that now. When they were together, when they were touching…hell, even when they weren’t touching, just being around her was like putting his hand in a light socket; he didn’t know who he was when he was with her, but he didn’t care. As long as there was nothing between them except skin, he didn’t care.
Probably the trip to the bedroom would have gone more smoothly if he’d kept walking, instead of pausing to fondle her breasts through her light knit shirt. “God, you—what you do to me, you—”
He kept on babbling, but Buffy wasn’t catching most of it. She didn’t think most of what he was staying were actual words, anyway, but they made her so hot she could barely understand English.
His hands were at her waist, now, struggling with the buttons to her jeans. “Why are you wearing pants?” he muttered insensibly. Another step and they were on the floor, and he jerked her jeans open and shoved a hand inside. With his other hand he pushed her top up and seized her nipple between his lips. “Whose?” he growled, worrying the tip of her breast.
“Yours,” Buffy moaned, clutching his head to her. God, his mouth was inhuman.
“Damn straight mine,” he muttered, abruptly switching breasts, laving one roughly with his tongue as the cool night air made the other nipple, damp from his ministrations, tighten further; he palmed it with his free hand and tugged at the nipple tauntingly. His other hand was still buried in her jeans, his thumb rubbing her clit as he finger-fucked her relentlessly.
Her hands were on his belt now, fumbling, and he reached down to push them away. He flipped the buckle open in one motion and jerked, and his belt whistled out with a clean snap, making Buffy shiver.
Then he guided her hands to the fastening of his pants and released his hard cock. She still hadn’t gotten a taste of it, and she was dying to, but right now neither of them could wait another minute.
He dragged her jeans down past her knees and thrust into her aching wetness without further preliminaries. For a moment they were both silent as they absorbed the feel of him inside her with nothing between them, her hot, wet walls tight around his throbbing shaft. Buffy leaned her head back and breathed heavily; she could feel every little curvature of his cock. Above her William panted and lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. Neither of them wanted the moment to end.
After a minute he rose up on his elbows, his hands resting beside her head, and slowly began thrusting into her, his gaze never leaving her face.
Her eyelids drifted shut and she began to keen, overwhelmed by sensation. It was like he could see into her; he knew exactly how to make her hot, how to get her off. The way he looked at her…she felt almost frenzied around him. He was completely different from the other guys she’d been with, and it was more than just his age or experience. It was him, something in him, and it called to something in her. What if…god, what if her parents had sent her to another school? Or what if she’d run away from this one without meeting him?
Tears began to run Buffy’s face silently, and she raised her hands from where they clutched his ass to wrap around his neck, holding him to her. He bent his head in response and she pressed her face to his as he murmured soothingly to her, pumping steadily the entire time.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he whispered, pressing kisses across her cheek and down to her ear.
“You,” she whispered back. “I need you.”
She felt him smile against her cheek. “I need you, too, baby.”
A jolt ran through her at his words. Of course he noticed; he noticed everything about her. “I need you,” he murmured again, deliberately, and she gasped and came against him, hugging her knees to his hips, her ankles still trapped by her jeans.
He let himself go then, and followed her into climax. After the last flutterings of their orgasms had worn off he slowly lifted himself off her, and they both became hushed as they felt her muscles clinging to his shaft, as if reluctant to release him. Finally he pulled free and they both gasped at the loss.
He eased down on the carpet next to her, drawing her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, and contentment washed over them both. They both drifted off to sleep, sated.
It was the chill of the October evening that eventually woke them.
Buffy surveyed the two of them sleepily—she, with her top pushed up and her pants down, he with his tie still knotted and cock hanging from the front of his pants, glazed with her juices. “Do you remember that time we actually took our clothes off first?” giggled Buffy, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. Wishing it was bare.
William laughed. “It was quite nice, as I recall. We must do that again sometime.”
Buffy sighed and wrapped her arm tightly around his waist.
She wasn’t planning on letting go.
~*~*~*~
Buffy slid the key into the lock on the back door of William’s house and slipped inside. When he was kissing her goodbye the night before, his hand had slipped into the pocket of her jeans. She’d thought it was just a caress, but when she took off her clothes that night she found the key he’d left there.
It was so strange to be inside his house when he wasn’t there. She wanted to look around, to explore, but mostly she wanted to be surprise him when he came in, so she went to his room, took off her clothes, and put on his robe to wait for him.
She’d learned his habits well. A few minutes later she heard him let himself in the front door, humming, and drop his briefcase. A minute later he strolled into the bedroom, sipping from a bottle of water, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her sprawled on his bed, his robe hanging from her shoulders, one foot tracing an idle pattern up and down her other calf.
The water bottle fell from his suddenly nerveless grip as he took stared at her as if hypnotized. The next moment, he was dragging his tie down and moving across the bed, crawling on his hands like a panther. She started to pant just from the look in his eyes.
“Buffy—” he growled, lowering his head.
KNOCK! They both jumped at the sound, exchanging a panicked look.
William stood up. “It’s okay,” he said in an almost normal voice. As if he didn’t have wood so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it. “I’ll shut the bedroom door and get rid of whomever it is, and I’ll be back in a sec.”
She nodded vigorously, pulling the robe up to her shoulders and tightening the tie. William smiled at her and finished removing his tie, then left the room, shutting the door almost all the way behind him.
Being nosy, Buffy crossed the room to listen at the crack. Hey, he knew she was a bad, naughty girl, right? And he liked her that way.
Buffy heard the front door being opened—and William’s gasp of shock. “What do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded in disbelief.
Buffy strained forward, curious, but there was no way she could peer around the door without being seen.
As it happened, she didn’t have to wait long. “Look, Mr. Bloodsworth, I don’t blame you for being upset,” said Riley Finn soothingly. “But I really think we should have a talk, don’t you?”
