Prompt: 20. Lick
Word count: 2000
Table: Complete smut_69 prompt table
Notes: Blackmail continuation. BDSM kink.
Buffy released Giles from the ropes. He slumped over the bedrail, then made an effort and stood up straight. He put his hands behind his back again, without being prompted. He'd been excellent all evening, keeping himself in submissive postures and making sweet gestures like kissing her boots, even now when he had just endured a whipping. Buffy felt a wave of affection for him rush over her. Such courage he'd shown, letting her do this to him. Trusting her so much, when she'd been so erratic before.
She slipped an arm around his waist and helped him over to the bed. She arranged him on his side curled around her with his head in her lap. She stroked his hair and face. He looked drained but serene, his eyes heavy-lidded. She fed him water in slow sips. He drank and sighed and wrapped his arms around her legs.
"How you doing? How do you feel?"
His voice was a little slurry when he answered. "Hurts. 'Ll hurt for days. So good, I feel so good. So-- oh, yeah, please, oh.."
She had taken his erection in hand and was caressing him slowly. He closed his eyes and thrust into her hand, almost involuntarily. The control she'd seen him display earlier had been stripped from him, possibly by the pain, possibly by the semi-trance he was in. Endorphin haze. He made little sounds, soft groans, more pleas to her to touch him.
Time for pleasure for him, now. And for her.
"Would you like to come tonight?"
His hand tightened on her knee. "Please, yes, Buffy, please, God, wanna come for you."
"You will, because you have been so good. But not until I tell you you may. Understood?"
"Understood, my Slayer." He kissed her leg where his face rested.
She cupped his balls, gave them a good squeeze, then released him. He whimpered in protest and opened his eyes. "On the floor, please. On your knees."
Giles shook himself and came out of his haze a little. Not fully. He was in a state Buffy had never imagined him in, mind on hold for the demands of his body. He knelt on the floor and spread his knees wide without being asked, but his face was still transformed by pleasure and desire and strain. His cock was red, urgently erect between those spread thighs. Buffy wondered which demand was foremost in his mind: the darkening stripes across his buttocks, or that cock? Or were they all mixed up?
He was fully alert now and watching her. He licked his lips again, a signal to Buffy that something in front of him was desirable. Her. It had to be her. Buffy stood, and removed her shirt. Yes, it was her. He was riveted, mouth a little open, body shifting forward slightly.
Buffy stripped slowly, carefully, methodically. She knew she looked good, and knew that Giles would like her tone, all the muscle that said she was his deadly Slayer. And indeed he watched her eagerly, moaning a little as she revealed his goddess to him. At the last she turned her back on Giles and bent to remove her panties. He groaned behind her and muttered something in that husky voice. She turned to him.
"What was that?"
His gaze moved everywhere on her, returning again and again to her sex. "So beautiful. You said I could--- you said you'd let me-- God, want to so much. Please? Let me taste you?"
Buffy smiled down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Yeah, you can. Make me happy. Make me want to let you do this again."
She sat on the edge of his bed, heels on the edge of the frame. She tugged Giles over to kneel before her.
"How should I... may I use my hands?"
"Use your imagination. Do your best. Worship me."
"God, yes, Buffy, I will, I do."
Giles kissed her bare feet, one at a time, on the instep. He slid his hands up her legs, rubbed his face against the inside of her knees. He parted her thighs gently, easing her open. His avid gaze did not move from her sex. Buffy leaned back on her elbows and watched his face. This didn't always work for Buffy. Sometimes she was slow to respond to it. But she'd let him have fun, let him get her all excited.
He kissed the inside of her knee, then brushed his lips over the other knee. He switched from left to right, slowly moving up her thighs to her sex, kissing softly, flickering his tongue on her skin. His breath was hot and damp. Buffy felt herself open for him, and he hadn't even touched her directly. He was breathing over her, brushing his hand over her mons. Was he ever going to lick her?
No! He was kissing up her belly, nuzzling her navel, rubbing his face against her. He stopped just below her breasts. He was leaning against her, his arms around her. His skin was hot against belly and back. He kissed between her breasts, then looked up at her.
"Yeah," she said, breathless.
He ran his tongue gently up her breast and licked around the aureole before closing his lips around her nipple. He sucked and licked. Buffy felt herself harden under his mouth. He moved his head to the other breast, and kissed it to arousal. Buffy cradled his head in her arms. His hair was damp under her hands. He looked up and met her eyes as he sucked. Buffy had never seen Giles look so happy as at that moment.
She pushed him gently down, and he released her to lick his way downward again, as slowly as he had made his way up. When he finally kissed her sex, she shook in a single hard spasm. Anticipation, shock, a thrill running from her sex out. He teased at her clitoris, tracing delicately from her opening up with a tongue-tip then moving away. Buffy moaned, wondered distantly if she should be that out of control, then decided she didn't care. Because his tongue was tracing around her again, and she knew it wasn't going to be a matter of if, but how many times. She let her head fall back. Let herself make noise for him as he teased her again and again.
He thrust his tongue into her, then withdrew. Buffy moaned in protest, then had to bite it back because he'd slid a finger into her and was sucking her clit gently and flickering his tongue over her, and it was already building in her, already inevitable. The wave broke over her, and she cried out and shuddered around him. He eased off and kissed her soothingly. Then just when the waters had receded, he slid another finger into her and licked hard, once, twice, and she was shuddering again. He would have done it a third time, but she pulled herself together enough to stop him with a hand in his hair.
He leaned his head against her thigh and smiled up at her. His face glistened with moisture, with sweat and her juices. He didn't seem to care. He looked almost smug. Next time she'd tie his hands behind his back, make him work harder. But for now, Buffy was happy she hadn't. He knew what to do with the privilege, how to use those fingers.
"Nice," she told him. Her voice was unsteady.
"Thank you, my Slayer," he said, still with that faintly smug expression.
Her hands were trembling from her orgasms, but she had enough control of her body to lift him to his feet again and push him back onto the bed. He winced when his backside met the bedsheets; no more smug look. She clipped his wrists together, then ran a loop of rope through another one of those convenient eyebolts. Giles' bed was serious. Seriously convenient. Which was the point. He must have done this a whole lot with Miss Calendar, Buffy realized. Okay, not the time to think about that. Instead, think about Giles, all spread out underneath her, legs apart, panting, rocking his hips in an effort to entice her, to brush himself against her.
Or maybe it was just that he was completely out of control now that she'd bound him again. It was amazing. Buffy sat back on her heels and stroked a hand over his thighs and watched him writhe. She shifted to kneel between his thighs and run her hands up his flanks, over his chest, and back down. Slow soothing massage. He settled under her hands.
"Yeah, that's it, sweetie. Relax. I've got you. Yeah, like that."
Buffy took a cue from him, and kissed her way slowly up his legs to where his cock lay along his belly. She hovered there for a moment, not touching him. Giles groaned. He'd lifted his head and was watching her. Next time she'd blindfold him and surprise him.
She licked him from root to tip. Giles bucked, so she did it again. Licked him all over until he was moaning non-stop, and then pulled away. She straddled him and took his cock in her hand, positioned it just so. Let the tip slide inside. Another little shock-shiver of anticipation as it slid in, her body gathering itself for pleasure to come. Giles thrust his hips up, trying to push himself all the way inside. Buffy rose and stayed just beyond him, tantalizing him.
"Hold still," she said. Giles froze in place.
She lowered herself onto him slowly, as slowly as she could. He filled her wonderfully, stretching her just enough. He held himself still, as ordered, but it was a near thing. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving, repeating something under his breath that Buffy couldn't catch.
He was all the way inside now. It was good, so good. Buffy moved over him slowly, until the urgency built and she had to go faster, had to seek the finish. One hand on his chest, pinching his nipple, one hand on herself, circling, Giles's cock moving inside her-- Buffy felt the wave rising rising again, cresting, taking her and carrying her.
When she could think again, she looked down at her Watcher. Giles was still hard and thrusting inside her. He face was desperate.
"Please," he said, "God, please, have mercy. I can't--"
"Go ahead, Giles. Come now." She reached down to where their bodies joined and flicked the cock ring open. Giles thrust up under her. She moved down to meet him, and he was coming, bucking and gasping and crying out her name and swearing. His face was everything she'd wanted to see: pained, ecstatic, wild, completely out of control. When he was still again, she stretched herself out on top of him, head on his chest. He softened inside her. He was sweaty and rumpled and flushed all over. About as un-stuffy as a man could be.
Buffy rolled off him and undid his cuffs. Giles flexed his arms and legs and groaned. He sat up and found the water bottle and drank. Buffy reclined on her side and watched him. He splashed some of the water on his face, then drained it dry.
"Mmm." He wrapped his arms around her and burrowed his face into her shoulder.
"That was what you needed?"
"Perfect, my Slayer. Thank you." His voice was a mumble against her. Buffy realized he was already more than halfway asleep. Well, she couldn't blame him.
That had been good. More work than she'd realized it would be, but it had been satisfying work. Giles' face, his cries, the way he'd writhed under her blows: it had been amazing and exciting. Better than she'd expected. The thrill of having so much power over somebody else, of knowing that somebody else had granted her that power. And then the feeling afterward that she'd done right by him, and taken him where he'd needed to be taken. This was good. This was what she wanted.
Buffy wrapped a hand around her Watcher's collar, and fell asleep.
Concluded in "Shivers".