She moaned in protest at the annoying buzz of the alarm clock, her head aching a bit from a night of not-enough-sleep. To her surprise, for once, her groan produced real results. Someone else turned the damn thing off.
“Mmm,” she hummed approvingly, and cuddled closer to the warm chest she was draped over. Warm... manly... chest. And that thing against her thigh? Definitely not a girly thing.
But Giles *was* petting her hair a lot like Tara liked to do.
It was kinda nice. She kept her eyes closed, and held still, putting off the whole freaking-out phase that was probably going to come as soon as they both admitted to being awake. Actually, it was *really* nice. His arm was hooked around her back, holding her close, and his dick was hard, and they smelled good. Ok, not good, exactly. They needed a shower. But it was nice, in some sort of primal, sexy way.
It made her want to crawl on top of him, let him slide inside her, and ride him for as long as he could stand it, and just say to hell with the rest of the world, like shops that needed opening, and college courses that needed attending, and lovers that needed a big confession followed by a much bigger apology.
And his hand was so tender. So fascinated with her hair. Almost made her think...
Then she noticed that her left arm was completely numb, so she had to give up the illusion of sleeping so that she could pull it out from under him. He shifted obligingly, and she ended up propped on that elbow, looking down at him. He smiled up at her.
“Good morning,” he said.
Hmm. Not freaking out. Still petting her, even, although his hand had moved from her hair to her arm. Since she’d been expecting stammering and blushing and a speedy retreat, this all left her a bit confused.
“Hi,” she said.
Then they were both just silently looking at each other. Her heart was beating a little hard. None of this was going as she’d expected. Least of all when his hand moved again, from her arm to her face, touching her cheek, and then lightly brushing over her lips. She breathed out softly around his fingers, and his eyes drifted closed for a moment. Then he rolled them over, gently pressing her down on her back beneath him.
She didn’t even try to not kiss him back. Didn’t hide the way her body arched up against his weight.
“Oh, Willow,” he said, and then he was kissing a path under her jaw, his tongue soft and wet and maddeningly *good.*
She said his name, called him Rupert, because she’d only ever called him by it that one other time last night, and now it felt so good rolling off her tongue, like a sex word.
He nipped her earlobe, cupped her breast in his hand and rubbed her nipple roughly with his thumb. She gasped, and rocked her hips up. Oh, goddess, he felt wonderful. His thigh was between her legs, close enough for her to rub herself against, so she did, groaning at the sweet relief of pressure against her hot, swollen center.
“God, yes, precious,” he breathed, raggedly, against the skin he’d dampened with his tongue. He hitched his knee a little higher, pressing more firmly against her sex, and slid his hand down to her hip to encourage her. Her gaze followed his hand down and something inside her flared up like a wildfire.
His hand was flexing and releasing, following the slow roll of her pelvis against his thigh, coaxing her, begging her to keep moving. Her leg was twined around his. His breath was harsh beside her ear. His cock was hard as steel, a hot brand brushing against her flank with each upstroke.
*Precious*
The endearment buzzed in her mind, flickering through the haze of sleepy, sensual pleasure.
She gripped his shoulder, could feel her own slick juices, cooling on the skin of his thigh. Could feel the hair there tickling her skin, sweet friction just where she wanted it.
He whispered to her as they moved together with their easy rhythm.
“Beautiful,” he said, and then kissed the folds of her ear. “Amazing.” Another kiss, and one to punctuate each word after: “Perfect. Wonderful. Willow.”
Then his hand slid off her hip, pushed between them, two fingers curling into her without preamble. She grunted and dropped her head back, twisted up to meet him, felt nothing, thought of nothing, but the pure pleasure of his hand on her, inside her, working her with practiced skill: his fingers moving inside her, his thumb pressed against her clit.
He shifted closer, bringing with him heat and the heady scent of male sweat and sex, and his mouth covered hers, his tongue pushed between her lips, taking her, claiming her, even as his fingers dug deep into her body.
She moaned helplessly, scraped her nails down his arm. It seemed to incite him. He pressed her down, kissed her fiercely.
He had four fingers in her now, his thumb still circling her. Her orgasm hit hard and fast, raking up her body, slamming her hips up against him, clamping her passage iron-hard around his hand.
She collapsed, boneless, but he didn’t let up. He broke the kiss to let her breathe, but kept up his rhythm inside her, his eyes on hers, blazing and intense.
“Goddess,” she gasped, “Fuck me, Rupert. Now, please. Please-”
He didn’t, though. Not until he’d wrung another orgasm from her. Then he left her, briefly, a melted puddle of happy goo, while he leaned over and pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. It was while he was rooting around in the drawer looking for another condom that she figured something out.
This was a seduction. Not a sexual seduction, obviously, since here they were, already well into the sex part. This was about a lot more than sex.
He crawled back over her, and kissed the tip of her nose teasingly. She was too distracted by her new revelation to smile. He cocked his head to the side.
“Something wrong?”
“No... I just... I’m having a paradigm shift here. Don’t mind me.”
He grinned at that, a broad, happy, uncomplicated grin, and kissed her again, lightly, on her temple, and then whispered, softly, “God, I love you.”
Then, while she was still reeling over that, he thrust inside of her.
“Just making sure you shift into the right one,” he said, still grinning, a cheerfully wicked sparkle in his eyes.
He was moving gently enough that she could keep her wits more or less about her.
“Love?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“But... but...”
He was looking down at her so tenderly, though. And he felt so good, moving inside her. Negative thoughts weren’t really coming to mind.
“Mmm, tha’s nice,” she slurred.
He pulled away and sat back on his heels. Wow, and she’d thought she was seeing a lot of Giles skin *last night*.
“Hey,” she protested, albeit somewhat weakly, because this was her best view yet of Giles, full monty. “’scuse me, Mister, but what part of ‘mmm, that’s nice’ are you having trouble with here?”
“Roll over,” he said.
She arched her brow at him.
“Trust me,” he said, with another grin.
So, she did, because she was discovering that she really liked Giles when he was gleeful.
He leaned down over her, kissing her shoulderblade languidly for a little while, until she said, “So, what exactly are you planning on doing back there? Just so we’re all on the same page and all.”
She felt his chuckle on her skin, and shivered a little at the feeling.
“Not that, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He nipped her, and she squirmed and giggled.
“Well, thank you, that was nice and indefinite.”
“Here, sit up. Slowly, let me-”
His hands were strong and steadying on her sides, pulling her back towards him and then holding her still, up on her knees and braced against the wall with one hand.
“Big with the orders, today, aren’t we?” she said, as he moved up flush against her back, his knees between hers. “What are you-”
But then she didn’t need an answer, because he’d pulled her down into his lap, sliding back inside her.
“Oooooh,” she sighed. “Ok.”
His stomach was a firm presence against the small of her back, and it occurred to her that if they’d tried this a few weeks later, it probably wouldn’t have worked out.
He’d wrapped one arm around her, and his other hand was on her, touching her as he began to move again. Their position kept things almost painfully slow, but that was more than compensated for by the way his cock was touching whole new places inside her, and his fingers on her clit were driving her right back out of her mind.
He kissed her neck, fucked her, held her tight, and she lost all track of time, everything just fading into a golden sort of haze. Nothing mattered except his hands on her, his cock inside her, his voice, murmuring to her. Calling her things like “darling,” and “love,” and “precious.”
Her climax, when it came, was powerful but slow, rolling over her like liquid heat. It was thorough, like being licked all over, and it left her every muscle quivering and weak in reaction.
She just hung in his arms, after that, her head draped back over his shoulder, exulting in the tingling aftershocks as he reached his own completion.
Afterwards, they were spooned together, unconcerned with their mutual lateness.
“But... what if this is just some kind of... weird reaction to, you know, this whole... weird situation. Like, maybe this is some manifestation of my nurturing instincts or something.”
His hand stopped petting her arm.
“Do you think it is?”
“I- I dunno. I mean, it’s not that I don’t... really really like you, Giles. I mean, I’ve had a crush on you for, like, ever. But... five years we’ve known each other, and we haven’t jumped in bed before.”
The petting resumed, but warily.
“Yes. But in that time... you were far too young at first. And then there was Oz. And then Tara.”
“Um, technically, there’s still Tara.”
He didn’t answer.
“I love Tara.”
His silence continued.
“I don’t know what I want, Giles... I didn’t think... this isn’t... I never planned on this.”
She started to roll over to face him, but he tightened his arms around her, and then kissed her shoulder.
“Take all the time you need, love. I’m not going anywhere.”
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