Title: Dreamer (3/6)
Author: Luisa
Pairing: B/G
Rating: NC-17... finally at the good stuff, folks!
Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine. :'-( Buffy, Giles and the crew belong to Joss
& Co.
Feedback: Is the stuff fic is made of. If you'll be so kind as to offer
some, I promise I'll write some more fic.
Giles flew up the stairs barefoot without a second thought. He dashed along the landing, but upon reaching Buffy's room, he froze in the doorway at the sight he beheld.
The bedroom door had been left open for his convenience should she call his name in fear, and through it he could see his Slayer laying outstretched on her bed, the covers thrown off and her hand...dear Lord, her hand was between her legs, rubbing gently. The nightshirt she wore had ridden up her smooth stomach and was resting just below her breasts, revealing vast expanses of satin skin... and apparently, no underwear.
Giles’ body refused to respond to the commands his brain was screaming. [Close your eyes, for God’s sake! Give her some privacy you fool! Get out of here! Get out, get out, get out!] Still his feet remained firmly rooted to the spot, his eyes glued to the beautiful woman lying before him. From where he stood in the doorway he had a perfect view of her from every angle, and try as he might to close his eyes, he found them rebelliously roaming her body, watching with renewed interest as she stroked her centre, moaning softly. He became aware that another part of his anatomy was showing some interest in the situation and groaned inwardly to himself.
“Oh yes...” Her first distinct words pierced the silence arousing him further, and he couldn’t help but gaze at her squirming form. She writhed on the mattress, breathing heavily as her ministrations continued. In a sudden, single movement, Buffy flung her free hand sideways, almost knocking her lamp off the nightstand. In the same movement, she drew her legs up and apart, placing her soles on the mattress and using her position to arch up. The once gentle strokes were now becoming more insistent, more impatient and she moaned loudly again.
“More... Oh, don’t stop...”
Again, Giles’ brain screamed instructions to his body: insisting that he close his eyes, go back to 'bed' and other such wise words. Again his body refused to obey.
“Oh yes...” her words came out in a low hiss, as she dipped a finger into her entrance. She spoke urgently again, her next words causing Giles’ jaw to drop.
“Oh god, Giles... I’m so close...”
Giles suddenly felt the air around him evaporate at her unintended revelation. He couldn’t blink or think, or even breathe. He tried to force air into his lungs and found that his body was denying him even that.
“Oh yes, oh yes...” She brought her free hand back from where it hung slightly off the bed and clutched at her top in frustration, pulling it away from her neck and revealing yet more tantalising skin, as her climax built.
Giles could have sworn that the temperature had suddenly risen again.
Buffy gave a small whimper. “Oh, Giles...” She rolled onto her side, squeezing her thighs together, gripping her hand between them as she rode out the waves of pleasure. He felt fluids gather at the tip of his arousal, and again his brain screeched at him to move before he did something he would regret later.
She gave a sudden moan, and Giles knew she had arrived at the point of no return in her dream, and she was about to... the soft sleepy cry of his name abruptly halted his train of thought:
“Giiiillllleeesssssss”
He practically came just from hearing her cry his name like that, let alone the glorious vision of her juices running through her curls and over her fingers. As she lay shuddering, her breath coming in small pants, a groan escaped him and his hand flew to his crotch, the rest of his body also finally responding. He stumbled backwards along the landing, careful not to make too much noise as to wake her, but how anyone could manage to sleep through such an erotic dream was beyond his logic.
Thoughts whirled crazily around Giles' head, none of them making sense. [Oh dear lord, Buffy was... was... oh dear lord] was certainly the most prominent thought in his mind. Without pausing to think, he flew into the bathroom, setting a new record for the 100 yard dash in the process. Upon reaching his destination, he paused only long enough to remove his t-shirt and boxers and step into the shower. As he did so, he turned the cold water on, hoping and praying all the while that he would not have to resort to his own guilty fantasies to rid himself of his ‘burden’ [Not like this. Not in Buffy's home, certainly not while she's sleeping just a few feet away].