TITLE: DO YOU LOVE ME THAT MUCH? 2/?
AUTHOR: theCAT
PAIRING: Buffy/Giles
RATING: extremely NC17
SUMMARY: Prophecy begins a journey for Buffy and Giles. Post-Grave. Magic Box bit the dust when Willow went over the edge. In my universe Willow went to the Coven in Great Britain and but Giles stayed with Buffy. Willow is now back stabilized, and the Big Evil is a brewing. But as this is PWP, smut for the sake of sex, who the heck cares.
DISCLAIMER: I am borrowing Giles to give him the sex life that Mutilating Enemy seems to think he doesn’t need. All characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and anyone else who has provided money for their production and publicity.
WARNING: This is Plot, what Plot, PWP Smut for the sake of smut and sex, Pure Dee Sex and Erotica.
Well, it was supposed to be PWP but the damned thing went and grew the complication of a small plot and a small problem that needed slaying. Please pardon the occasional plot-thing interruptions. Your regularly scheduled smut will return as quickly as the extraneous plot forms can be dealt with.

Giles bed smelled like his cologne and an indefinable something that said “Watcher.” Pheromones, Buffy decided. Sensual, hot, male, ripe with pheromones, she decided. God he smelled good.

She glanced at him as he lay beside her. Aroused. His heartbeat throbbed his erection, lifting it and letting it drop as the blood pulsed in it. So human. So warm. Her beautiful Watcher. She touched him, her hand following the line from the soft skin on his thighs, over the hot egg-shaped lumps nestled at the base of his hard shaft, then up the line of rigid flesh that arched into to slight swell of his belly. Amazing. His body called to her body, demanding from her what he had given of himself. She felt the heavy thrum of his desire settling in her groin as thought the weight of his swollen flesh grew there, and her belly tickled from the pressure as the tip of his erection nudged the curve of his belly. Engorged and hot. She felt his heat several ways. Her palm hovered over his glans and she stared at the seeping tip. Wet and hot now. Wanting her. Hard for her. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the gift of his erection, stroking him.

He sighed and pushed into her hand. “Beautiful,” she whispered to him, her hands wandering over him in delight. “So beautiful, so mine.”

He looked up at her quizzically. She smiled at him. “You, you are so beautiful, inside and outside. I’ve wanted you like this for so long. I’ve loved you so.” She ran her hands along his chest, touching his nipples gently, tickling them into hard little nubs, tugging on the bronzed hair that covered his pecs. “You are so giving to me. I want to give to you. Let me love you, Giles.”

His expression grew pensive as he stared at her, dazed with passion and need. She wondered what he was thinking. “Love me?” he asked tentatively.

“Love you,” she answered. “I do love you, you know.”

He glanced at her nakedness and his own. A wicked grin stretched his mouth. “Not like a father?” His eyes smiled.

“Definitely not like a father.” She caressed him again, smiling as he shivered under her touch. “You’ve always been my hero,” she admitted, “And I’ve wanted you for my lover for so long, but had no idea if you were receptive to it. I was so lonely and so young. You were here with me, but so distant half the time, so repressed, stuffy. And I wanted you so badly and knew I could never have you. So I buried my wanting and tried to fill the holes with others.” She wrinkled her nose. “We all know how well that worked.”

The soft chuff of his laugh affirmed her observations.

Buffy leaned over, bringing her soft lips to his chest, nibbling at his nipples. Giles groaned, his hips thrusting involuntarily. “Good,” she chuckled. The Slayer lifted her leg and straddled her Watcher’s body. She grabbed his left hand and brought it to the juncture of her thighs. “Feel this?” She pressed his hand against her mons. His long fingers slipped between her lips, wading in her dripping heat, the swollen flesh begging for his body, her slick wetness preparing the way for his entry, for his claim of her. She had already made her claim on him.

He lifted her suddenly and brought her to his mouth, his teeth nibbling on the swollen nub of her clitoris. His tongue licked her, feeling the jangling of her senses rising to the storm of an orgasm. He mouthed her clitoris, the tip of his tongue worrying at it as he suckled on it. She exploded, giving up all the tension in her body to the orgasm that blew through her like a line storm. He smiled at her smugly and released her. She grabbed his pillows, clinging for support until her breathing calmed and her legs again admitted they had more substance than gelatin.

She rose up, and stared at him. He stared back. “Something is happening,” he whispered to her.

“I know. I don’t care. I’ve loved you so long, Giles. Maybe it took this . . . “ She touched his brow, his nose, his eyes, his lips. “So beautiful,“ she murmured.

“And I’ve loved you, Buffy,” he told her, his hands journeying from her breasts to her hips, then between her thighs to stroke the satin flesh he desired above all else right now. His hand trembled against her entrance, fingers sliding into her, sensing her heat, her readiness. “I need to be in you now.”

“Yes. I need you to be in me.”

Moving down his body, she poised over his erection. She tilted it up, placing the taut helmet of his glans at her entryway and looked up at him. She held him there, waiting. Something else was required. Her heart pounded and she trembled, loving him, needing him. She held his hard flesh against her; waiting for it to probe her, love her. She needed something from him now.

He smiled at her, his hand tracing her features, skittering down to pinch her nipples, stroke the smooth curve of her belly. Finally his fingers joined hers on his rigid flesh and he moved his penis, stroking her inner and outer lips and grazing the still terribly sensitive nub of her clitoris. Her hips bucked. He placed his penis at her opening, using his hips to nudge himself into her just a bit. She quivered at his entry and then a liquid orgasm exploded from her, running all over her body and shimmering along his flesh. He steadied her as she writhed and moaned in pleasure.

When her pleasure faded, he arched himself into her, driving his tense flesh deeply. She yowled like a great cat. Her vagina contracted around him rhythmically, her orgasm building again rapidly, powerfully. He smiled up at her, and as if he knew she needed deep and fast and hard, he gave her his body, plunging into her deep and fast and hard.

“Now you,” her murmured to her, his voice low and throaty with his love. “You come for me, come on my body.” He tipped his hips and thrust hard into her. She yowled again, her hands forming claws to hold onto his forearms.

She needed his arms, needing his stability to keep balance. “Come with me,” she begged. “Come with me.” The heat of her approaching climax burned at her. The rising conflagration destroyed her sense of her body, but intensified her sense of self until she filled the universe. She was suddenly huge, expanding, drawing all into herself and conscious only of his flesh sliding in and out of her. His hot flesh, like a magical staff that cut itself through her passion and left indescribable pleasure in a wake behind it. Her breath chopped itself into taut little pants and she gripped his arms tighter. He was her anchor and his body brought her to the cosmos, where she could hear the song. The Song. Love. Him. His eyes drew her into forever.

He rose beneath her. She felt him. Knew him.

His hands tightened on her hips and he angled her a bit, changing his penetration. She felt him slip to new depths within her, felt her body welcome him, felt him stroke a spot that shattered her with heightened desire. A deeper blaze of heat surged through her, shivering along her nerves in a tidal wave.

She felt the pulsing of Giles’ body as his climax took him again. Felt the overpowering pressures build in him, felt the rising heat of his orgasm raging, felt the damn holding it at bay fall and then the rush of everything hurling itself from his body toward her. And at the same time the gush of her selfhood rushed against it, mingling.

She gathered the stuff of creation into her womb. In that gathering, the heat of him swirled into the universe she had become, adding his notes to the Song. The Song that built and built until it became her, became them, and crested into a towering wave that washed over her beginning at the tips of her toes and rushed through her until it sizzled in the ends of her hair, an arpeggio on harp strings.

Then that piece of herself that had met her Watcher head on in his orgasm tore loose from that joining and poured into his soul. It seemed to seek the open wounds their years together had marked on him. She felt herself flow like healing balm on the bumps and bruises and sink like new flesh into the gaping wounds he bore on his heart and soul. Then she curled up, nestled beneath his open, giving heart. Ah, Giles, her heart whispered as his love encompassed her. Buffy collapsed against Giles chest, shivering in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced. He stroked her, holding her against his pounding heart, petting her down from the heights into the arms of his love. “I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, kissing her temples, her fingers, holding her while she shook and sobbed her happiness and release.

Rupert Giles woke with the moonlight spilling across his body. His Slayer sprawled next to him, her face buried in the feathers of a pillow. He could feel her now, feel her dreams drifting across her sleep-drugged brain, feel her wake as her body tuned into his wakefulness. They were bound now, bound by the intimacy they had shared, bound by the weft formed by their tangled spirits. He turned on his side to stare into the eyes of his love. The moonlight silvered her irises, making her gaze mysterious and sexual.

“This had to happen, didn’t’ it,” she whispered, trying to keep their secret from the shadows of the night.

He nodded. “How did you know?”

“I felt you knowing it,” she said, her voice still low. She reached out and touched his face. “What is this? What’s happening to us?”

He leaned over and kissed her mouth gently. “You are an amazement,” he whispered. “You’ve outlived 99% of the historical slayers.”

“Because of you,” she murmured against his lips. “Because of you.”

He smiled again gently at the feeling of her warm lips vibrating against his as she spoke. The sensation tingled along the edges of his lips, through his body, on a direct connection to his groin. His penis stirred, thickening. It warmed, the sensual thrill of his hot blood filling it, his excitement coursing through his body, along his nerves, drawing him to her: lightning arcing up to the cloud.

She rose over him, her hands cupping him, stroking him as he grew. In her hands he hardened, wanting her again.

He glanced down at himself in wonder. Christ, he was like a randy teen.

“What is this?” she asked again, her fingertip tracing a path from his left nipple to the tip of his weeping glans. “What are we becoming?”

“We are becoming,” he explained, shifting as her sensual joy washed over him in a cresting wave. “Rupert and Buffy are becoming one. Can you feel the tangle in our souls?” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “Can you feel how your heart beats with mine? I can feel the trill of the blood rushing in your arteries and veins. I can feel your hunger. The thrill you feel when you touch me and I grow hard for you.”

“Yes.” Her voice echoed hollowly in the darkness. “I feel your breath. I feel your quiet soul holding mine in thrall. I feel the heat of your need to be in me again.” She reached out and stroked his erection and despite the heaviness of what grew between them, her face lit with a gamin grin. “I feel your need and I know you can feel my want.”

His sensual laugh rumbled in the shadows. “Oh, Baby, I can feel your want. Combined with mine, it is painful,” he groaned. The heat of his desire burned in him. His hand closed around his erection, stroking himself as she watched avidly. The tip of his penis glistened with oozing drops of liquid, weeping with his wanting.

She cupped her hand over his, gathering his rhythm into herself, feeling the tightness building in his groin, the pressures rising. The heaviness of his oncoming orgasm swirled inward, finding a place in her womb, thrilling her with his love and need, his desire to give himself to her unequivocally with a burst of his generative seed. Something plush and receptive formed, open to him, all that he was and would be and offering to him those same parts of herself. She needed to be close to him, to feel him within her.

Buffy fell on him, drawing him into her mouth, her hot mouth. His body jerked in pleasure. Her tongue curled around him, pressing his painful shaft into a place of shivering bliss. Her lips closed tightly, sealing him into her wet warmth, then slid down his length, dislodging his stroking hand. Then she sucked, pulling him deeply into her, into her throat. Her hands cupped his buttocks, holding him deep while she suckled. Her heat and lust built a fire in his bowels and his gut. He felt it. Felt the joy rise in her like flames, felt her pleasure as she sensed the growing ecstasy shimmering along his penis, boiling in his testicles as his orgasm took form, pushing outward. Her fingers cupped his scrotum, fondling, gently tugging him toward his climax. He felt her hunger to feel him spew deep inside her, felt her need to drink him down.

“Oh, God,” he groaned as she kneaded his groin with her tiny kitten hands, fingering him, touching him, caressing him.

Like you’re me, he heard her voice in his soul. I touch you and I feel it like you’re me. Like you’re in me. And then he knew it too, the sensations building deep within Buffy. His heaviness slid into her slick channel, stretching it, rousing waves of pleasure, sensations that washed through her wantonly. But still she held him in her mouth, her lips stroking him, suckling. “Christ, Buffy!”

Her thoughts tangled with his as pleasure gushed through them, his onrushing orgasm reflecting the one building in her. Come for me, come in my mouth. Give yourself to me. Become me.

Giles back arched and the boiling heat of his pleasure, the explosive pressure of his orgasm rushed to her, centered its eruption deep in her as hers washed over him, wrapping itself around them in a heaving blanket.

~to be continued~ part 3
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