Dipping his head, William took possession of her mouth once more, kissing her languorously until she melted into a boneless puddle of goo. “Keep your eyes closed,” he said, and Buffy felt him slip off the couch.
Within moments, he was back, the edge of the cushion dipping under his weight. Buffy opened her eyes, and he waggled his finger at her. “I said, keep them closed.”
She slipped them shut with a soft sigh. There was a clinking noise, followed by something that sounded like liquid being poured into a glass. Buffy heard the tinkling noise once more, and then his lips were on hers. “Mmm,” she said in approval, opening her mouth to him. William’s tongue traced her teeth, and then her tongue. His mouth tasted like alcohol, with a richer flavor than the whiskey they’d been drinking. Something smoky and dark, with a hint of honey. A moment later, there was only the sensation of cold, and Buffy realized he held an ice cube in his mouth. Their tongues moved together, an alternating swirl of hot and cold, until the ice had melted completely.
“That’s nice,” she said. “Can I open my eyes now?”
Buffy heard the clinking that signified William’s retrieval of another ice cube, but this time he kept his kisses chaste. She could feel the cold water trickling into her mouth, and, impatient, she followed it back to its source until the tip of her tongue found the ice cube he held in the back of his cheek. Unused to being so bold, she withdrew. William nipped at her lower lip. “You’re doing fine, love. Do it again. See if you can’t make the ice dance.” She did as he asked, becoming the aggressor in their ballet, and when he popped an alcohol-flavored ice cube into her mouth she was quick to force it into his and follow it with her tongue.
The friction melted the ice quickly. She held her mouth open like a baby bird, waiting for more, but William used the next one to trace her lips. He followed the cold trail he’d made with the heat of his tongue, licking up the tiny rivulets that threatened escape. It made her lips tingle and she bit at them, but he’d already moved on, creating a chilly path along her jaw line, her ears, and then down her neck to hollow of her clavicle. The shock of the cold against her overheated skin caused it to goose bump while her voluntary sightlessness, and the unknown of where he would go next, had her nerves jangling. Still, Buffy tipped her head and arched her neck to give him better access, enjoying the novel sensations. She’d told him she wanted to play, to learn something new, and William was giving her exactly what she’d asked for.
He spent some time on the hollow of her neck, and then his weight shifted and he traced an icy path down her arm, down to her fingertips. His lips followed, and he sucked her middle finger into his mouth, tongue tickling the fleshy base. William repeated his actions in reverse, up the other arm, and ended on the swell of her breast, just above the bodice of her dress. Buffy twisted her hands in the fabric of her skirt and moaned her appreciation of the slow, delicate stokes of his tongue against her skin. He licked up the last of the moisture and moved off the couch, rustling around beside her. She held her breath, wondering what was coming next.
“You have a choice now,” he said after a moment, and his voice sounded like honey in her ear.
“I do?” She fluttered her eyes open, unable to take the suspense. William was kneeling on the floor next to the couch, his heavy-lidded deep blue eyes staring down at her. Buffy felt like she was drowning in those eyes, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away, not until the steady, rhythmic movement of his left arm captured her attention. She turned her head, trying to see what he was doing, but he caught her chin with his other hand and smiled lazily at her.
Always. Buffy liked the sound of that. “What’s my choice, then?”
“What happens now.” He fished an ice cube out of the glass on the coffee table. “Where this goes next.”
Buffy’s eyes widened as she caught the implications of what he was asking. She chewed on her lips, which had begun to tingle once more, and tried to form a coherent thought around the buzzing in her head. “You’d know better than me,” she finally said. “Wherever you think.”
He sucked the melting ice into his mouth, and the sight made Buffy wish he were sucking other things. She squirmed, and he smiled, tongue poking between his teeth. “This is your game, love. Your call.”
“I want – more.” She arched her back, breasts thrust upwards to indicate what she was too embarrassed to say. Shuddering a little, William resumed the movements of his left arm, and Buffy realized she knew what he was doing by the look of intense pleasure on his face. “Oh, god, are you -?” Rather than disgusting her, the thought of him touching himself made her wetter. She rubbed her thighs together and craned her neck, trying to see.
William stopped her with a cool kiss. “Close those pretty eyes of yours.”
“Thought I was in charge.”
“Of what we do and when to stop. What you’re comfortable with. But if you want me to be your teacher, Buffy, you have to mind me.”
“Or what? You going to spank me?” Oh, okay wow. William definitely was into that, judging by the lust-filled look on his face and the increased pace of his stroking. It was the only answer she needed. “N-never mind,” she squeaked, and quickly squeezed her eyes shut.
He chuckled. “Good girl.”
“Not a girl. I’m twenty-four. And you’re not that much older than me.” She cracked one eye open. “Are you?”
“Got three years on you. So mind your elders.” He winked at her, and Buffy laughed and surrendered to sightlessness once more.
Nothing happened for several long seconds and she was tempted to sneak a peek, but then she felt a chilled finger trace the neckline of her dress, right where it met the tops of her breasts. William’s fingers dipped below the edge, and Buffy arched up with a whimper, wanting them lower yet. “Hold on,” he said, and rolled her slightly to get at the zipper on the back of her dress. With a snick, the tight bodice came loose. He let her fall back before slowly peeling the dress down until her torso was bared to the cool air of the room. Buffy’s nipples, already tight, puckered further under the imagined weight of his gaze.
“Beautiful,” William whispered, and brushed the tight buds with his fingertips. Buffy quivered, and had to squeeze her eyes tightly to keep from looking at him. She didn’t want to give him any reason to stop what he was doing.
A moment later, she heard the chinking of the glass of ice, and she sucked in her breath in anticipation. He didn’t disappoint. The feel of cold ice against her nipple was almost more than she could bear. William started at the puckered tip, drawing lazy, every-widening circles around her breast. The droplets from the melting ice tickled as they rolled away, down her side, up to her shoulders, and towards her belly button. Once again, he held the ice to the same nipple, chilling it further, then dragged it across the valley of her breasts to the other side. At the same time as the ice slid over her far nipple, William sucked the one closest to him into his mouth, and Buffy gasped at the contrast.
“Oh, god,” she said, and she had to bury her hands in his hair and pull him closer. “Don’t stop!”
William groaned. “Not a chance.” His tongue flicked across the tight bud, and it sent a bolt of pleasure straight to her clit, making her jerk underneath him. He continued to tease her sensitized breasts with both ice and tongue, occasionally feeding an alcohol-sweetened ice cube into her gasping mouth. After several minutes of this, Buffy had been reduced to nothing more than a twitching, incoherent mess.
She wasn’t prepared for what he did next. Before she could register what was happening, William had slid the hem of her dress upward, up to her hips. He dragged an ice cube from the back of her knee to her panties in one quick, bold stroke. The shock of the frigid wetness gliding along the thin silk of her already damp panties, up her cleft and over her clitoris, made Buffy squeal and buck beneath him. He slid an arm under her back and held her lower body in the air with a firm grip, one she quickly discovered didn’t allow for any wriggling. For a brief moment, he circled her throbbing clit with the ice, which made her gasp and squirm futilely. Just as she was about to beg him to stop, he covered her mound with his mouth and sucked at her swollen, aching nub through her wet panties. Her extremities began to tingle, and her head buzzed, and she was fairly certain she couldn’t even remember her name at that moment.
Still holding her aloft, William climbed onto the couch, between her legs. Buffy cried out, pleading for him to take her over the edge, all her muscles tense and straining towards the release she was desperate for. He tongued her through panties, and when he reached up and pinched one of her nipples, Buffy screamed and came in a rush of sensation. Dimly, she was aware of William lowering her body, and then something hard thrusting against her, sliding along her underwear. He gasped and shuddered against her, and the inside of her thigh felt distinctly sticky.
It was a long while before she could summon the energy to speak. Liam had been a considerate lover who had never left her wanting, but the way William had devoured her, even through her clothing, had been something else. Something raw and primal. Buffy lay there limply, waiting for her fingers and toes to stop tingling, one leg trapped against the back of the couch by a slumped-over William. “Can I open my eyes now?” she asked. He chuckled, but didn’t move, and she found she still didn’t have the strength to move either.
A moment later, he shifted, and she looked up just in time to see him scooping her up. “What’re your feelings on cuddling?” he said, and she had to work hard to understand what he was asking.
“Highly in favor of it.” She rubbed her cheek against his half-bared chest. “Why?”
His arms tightened around her as he walked. “Wanted to know if I could hold you while we sleep.”
The thought that he could be awfully sweet returned. “Highly in favor of sleep, too. Although cleaning up might be a good first step.” Buffy glanced down at her bared torso and twitched her lips. “And a shirt to sleep in would not go unappreciated.”
William raked his gaze along her exposed breasts, and his soft, satisfied expression turned lustful once more. “On the other hand…” Still moving towards the bed, he dipped his head to capture her mouth, and Buffy couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped. He looked down at her with dark eyes, and she held her breath. “Still feeling a mite tanked,” he said ruefully. “Though that could be from coming so damn hard, I thought my balls were going to turn inside out.”
Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Nice imagery.”
“It’s a compliment,” he said. “You’re… fucking hell, that was incredible.”
“Really?” She couldn’t imagine it. All he’d done was pleasure her, and Buffy wasn’t naïve enough to think ice play even bordered on the kinds of kinky acts William probably enjoyed. No matter how it had rocked her world, it had to have been boring for him, what with all the experiences he’d had. “For you too?”
“Trust me, love. I hope to hell I’m not too sloshed to remember this night, because it was bloody amazing.” He spoke over her protests. “It’s not just the actions that make for a good tumble. It’s the person you’re doing it with. The chemistry. The responsiveness. You’ve got that in spades.”
“Well, what you did was…” She couldn’t think of a good enough adjective. “Wow? And when can we do it again?”
William sat on the bed with her in his lap and pulled her close, his lips resting on the crown of her head. “It was a good first lesson, then?” he asked, and to Buffy’s surprise, he sounded unsure. How could he possibly doubt his talents?
“It was perfect.” She traced his shoulder with her fingertips. “When you say first, does that mean there’ll be more?”
“If you want.”
Buffy didn’t even have to think about it. “Oh, I want. Trust me, I want.”