Title: Masquerade 4/7
Author: Elle
Feedback: Please! elle562000@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Buffy and the gang belong to Joss, Mutant
Enemy, and other important people.
Hugely bad choice of words, Buffy realized. If she had wanted Ripper, she got him.
Giles pulled her against him tightly and kissed her mouth. She didn't have time to react before his tongue had slipped past her lips and was tracing the contours of her mouth. One hand grasped the soft skin of her bottom revealed by the g-string, the other pushed her hand back against his crotch, and the erection straining to be touched.
When they broke apart, he wore more of her lipstick than she did. Buffy grinned at the silliness of it, and wiped at his lips.
Eyes dark, he caught her fingertip in his mouth and sucked gently. Letting it go, he said in a husky voice, "It's been a long time for me, you know."
Buffy's eyes glittered wickedly. "I'm sure you'll have enough stamina."
"I was more worried about not being able to stop," he whispered against her ear.
"Oh." Buffy's voice was small.
He chuckled quietly. "It's not everyday a man gets a masked woman in his bedroom. I plan on taking full advantage of the situation." He lifted her into his arms and laid her back on the bed, drinking her in with his eyes.
For the first ever Buffy understood what it meant to be desired. It was almost like being worshipped, being looked at with absolute appreciation. She felt confident, beautiful.
Buffy arched her back provocatively, lounging against the sheets like a lazy cat. Giles slipped a finger into neckline of the corset and pulled her face up to his. Instead of kissing her, though, he bit her lip.
"You can sleep later," he promised, running his tongue over the tiny mark he left.
Buffy slid her hand beneath his shirt, resting it on his stomach and debating whether to go higher or lower. She chose lower, opening the zipper of his pants. There wasn't any underwear, and somehow, it wasn't a shock.
She squeezed him gently, relishing his groan. "So, how long has it been…?" she teased, sliding to her knees before him.
A muscle in Giles's jaw dropped when her glossed-up, kiss-swollen lips enveloped him. "Very long," he grunted, squeezing his eyes closed. He was desperate for something rough, but he didn't want to force her. Instead he used his hands to hold back her hair, keeping them from forcing her head to move farther up.
Buffy teased him, only holding him in her mouth. She caressed him with her tongue, but remained motionless. When she was certain he was nearly mad with desire she wrapped her other hand around his shaft and stoked slowly, countering each caress with the movement of her head. Her free hand reached up to cup his balls.
Giles swore. At least she thought so, it was kind of British.
She dragged her teeth over his length, sucked gently, then hard, and repeated the entire process. Her movements became more intense and she took more of him into her mouth at once, nearly letting him hit the back of her throat.
He tasted salty, masculine, amazing. The sounds he made, the knowledge that she aroused him, made her hot.
When she thought he might come, he pushed her back. Buffy looked at him, confused and hurt.
"Not yet," he said. "It's your turn now."