They’d been skirting around each other for weeks. If he was being honest with himself, Giles was all too aware of the increasing tension that was there whenever they passed in the corridor, or caught each other’s eye in the staff room, but he refused to entertain any such notion for more than a few minutes at a time.
Jenny, too, had been trying to put Rupert Giles entirely out of her mind. He was older than her by more than a decade, and seemed entirely dedicated to his work. Indeed, as she left the classroom that Thursday evening, Rupert Giles was the furthest thing from her mind. She’d had a hell of a day; it had started with all of the computers crashing in first period, and had got progressively worse from there. She bustled quickly through the deserted corridors, clutching a large stack of papers she needed to grade, eager to get home. She was paying very little attention to her surroundings, and as she rounded a corner, she collided with a tall, besuited figure.
“Bloody h-“ the figure spluttered, as Jenny’s papers fluttered around them and slid in all directions across the linoleum floor.
Jenny looked up, surprised to find Rupert Giles staring down at her.
“Mr Giles,” she said, bending down to scoop up the scattered papers.
“Miss Calendar. I didn’t see you.”
He too bent down and helped her gather up the rest of the sheets. The tension between them, which had been building for several weeks, seemed suddenly overwhelming.
“Thanks,” Jenny said, when Rupert passed her a wad of papers.
“You’re, er, here late.” Rupert said, as he took his glasses off and began compulsively cleaning them.
“Long week,” Jenny replied, “trying to catch up.” She held up the papers in explanation.
“Right, yes, of course.”
They stood in silence for a few beats.
Jenny gestured to the exit.
“Better get going.” She said, and turned to walk away.
“Y-yes, quite.” He offered her a small, timid smile, and she turned to walk away. “I-I wondered, if you wouldn’t mind. Just say if you do, but it would really help if you could, possibly-“
Jenny turned back to him, already grinning.
“Computer issue?” She asked. His inability to work even the simplest of programs was endearing.
“Yes, it’s driving me mad. I can’t work out what I’m doing wrong.”
Jenny had already started back up the corridor towards the library.
“C’mon, then.” She called over her shoulder.
Back in the library, Jenny checked over the computer as Rupert flitted about behind her, sorting books and shuffling papers.
“You need to empty the trash more than once every four years, Rupert.” She commented, then sighed as he shot a concerned look at the trash can in the corner. “On the computer, caveman.”
He at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed.
“C’mere, I’ll show you.” Jenny said, beckoning him over.
He pulled a chair up next to her, and as he sat down their knees bumped together. Jenny was fairly sure she felt him jump at the contact. As much as she’d been trying to put him out of her mind, she couldn’t help but notice the faint smell of his cologne, and the way it made her heart race. Their hands brushed as she passed the mouse to him, and she risked a glance up, only to find his eyes already on her. Before she was entirely sure what she was doing, she pushed her knee against his again. He made no sign that he noticed, but she could almost feel the tension in the room grow. When she rested her hand on his leg - far enough up that it was entirely suggestive, but not so far as to be obscene - he cleared his throat.
“Jenny,” he said, quietly, “what are you doing?”
“I’m not sure yet.” She replied, turning and running her hand up his arm to rest at the back of his neck. She stroked her fingers through the greying hairs there, and he lent down to kiss her. It was gentle, soft; just the merest brush of his lips against hers, but it made her feel like there were fireworks in her chest. Heat spread through her, pooling in the pit of her stomach and at her core. He pulled away then, keeping his forehead pressed against hers.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he breathed, as he ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek.
“Me neither,” she replied, sighing as he cupped her face and pressed another kiss to her lips. “God, I want you, Rupert.”
He pulled back and looked at her then, his eyes dark and full of... what? She searched his face, found his expression hard, almost wicked. He grinned, and this time it was far from timid. He dipped his head to kiss her again. The gentleness was gone, replaced with hunger and need. This was desperate and harsh and, Jenny thought, better. She moaned as she felt his tongue run along her bottom lip, then the scrape of his teeth chasing it. She could already feel the coiling tension in her belly and the hot, pleasant rush of excitement.
Rupert was pulling her up now, still kissing her. She let him guide her onto the desk next to the computer, and pushed the mouse away. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled his hips to hers. He groaned softly as his hip bumped against her centre, moving his mouth to nip and suck at the juncture of her neck. His hands were hot and delicious against her skin, and he made quick work of her shirt and bra.
“You’re beautiful,” Rupert said, dragging his thumb across one exposed nipple.
Jenny moaned against him, pushing his jacket off. His tie was next, followed by his waistcoat, and then she was unbuttoning his shirt.
He was always so overdressed; wearing so many layers and buttons and fabrics. Pushing his shirt off now, she took in his broad shoulders and strong physique. Several thin, white scars laced across his ribs, and he had a fading bruise and a graze on his right shoulder.
“Hazards of the job.” He said, when she traced one scar with a finger across his sternum and down his stomach.
When Jenny felt his hands pulling at the zip on her skirt, she pushed herself off the desk to let it drop to the floor, toeing off her shoes as she did. He lifted her back onto the desk, grinding against her and moaning when she slid a hand between their bodies to cup him through his trousers. He was painfully hard under her fingertips, and she teased him until he moaned against her neck. Before she could unzip his flies, though, he sank to his knees and began pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of her thighs, teasing at the edges of her panties.
“God, Rupert, please.” She hissed, and he slid his fingers beneath the waistband and tugged them off and down her legs.
He knelt in front of her for several long moments, taking in her long, slender legs, nipping playfully at the smooth skin of her inner thighs. Then, in one smooth movement he leant forward and flicked his tongue against her clit. Jenny’s head fell back against the desk with a dull thud, and Giles let out a soft chuckle. He began lapping fervently at her clit, tracing a long index finger down her belly, stopping only when he reached the wet, hot perfection of her pussy. Jenny thought she was going to burst with impatience as he circled her entrance, so gently she could hardly feel him. It took her by surprise when he slid not one, but two elegant fingers inside her, curling them just so and continuing to lap at her.
“Don’t stop, Jesus fucking Christ don’t you dare stop” She hissed as she felt her climax approaching.
Again, Giles let out a small huff of a laugh, but he didn’t stop, and when she lifted her head to look at him he was watching her, eyes dark and pupils blown wide with pleasure. It tipped her over the edge, and she came, hard, clamping down around his fingers. He sucked gently on her clit, watching her as she came apart. When she had stilled he slipped his fingers out and slowly, delicately, took them into his mouth. Jenny thought it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.
“The whole stuffy librarian thing really is just a facade, huh?” She teased, sitting up slightly to wrap her hands around the back of his neck and pull him up to kiss her. She could taste herself on his lips.
He pulled back, kissed his way down across her throat and hissed into her ear, “Oh, you have no idea.”
Before she had time to reply, he captured her mouth hungrily again, standing up and pressing himself between her open thighs. She pulled desperately at the buckle on his belt, unhitching it and pushing it aside to undo his flies. She could feel him, hard and hot beneath her fingers, and it did little to help her in ridding him of his trousers. Impatiently, he undid the last few buttons himself, pushing aside his underwear and freeing his cock. Jenny wrapped her hand around him and began stroking earnestly, eliciting a deep moan which turned into a kind of thrum of pleasure when she sped up her fist.
“Please, Rupert, I need you,” She hissed into the shell of his ear, guiding his cock towards her entrance and lining him up. He slid himself in, deliciously slowly, pressing kisses to the sides of her neck, and stilling when their hips met.
“You feel incredible,” He said, moving ever so slightly, so that she could feel him shift inside her, hard flesh pressing into her core. She moaned pleadingly. “What do you want?” He asked, voice edged with something close to malice. It made her fingertips throb with excitement.
“You,” She replied. Her hands, which had been clutched at the nape of his neck, began tracing their way along the hard column of his spine, feeling out his tensed, broad muscles and smooth skin.
“What. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Do.” He hissed, moving his hips minutely with each word.
“Fuck me. Please, Rupert. Fuck me.”
He grinned wolfishly, pulled her a few inches toward him on the desk and began thrusting into her, hard. She swore loudly, fingernails digging into the flesh of his ribs, desperate to get some kind of purchase as he set a steady, rhythmic pace.
If she’d spent nights imaging what sex with the quiet, bashful and altogether very English librarian would be like, it was nothing like this. His fingertips were leaving marks in the soft flesh of her hips as he held her to him, and he was grazing his teeth along her throat, occasionally sucking and biting at the soft skin there. It was all raw passion and delicious heat. She ran her hands through his hair, pulling his lips up to hers so that she could kiss him again. The pressure of him inside her was sending white hot tendrils of pleasure straight through her, and she could feel another orgasm building.
“Touch me,” She whispered, and he obeyed, reaching his hand between them to thumb at the hard nub of her clit. She came again, crying out, and he stilled his hips as her tight hot heat clamped around his cock, riding out the waves of her orgasm.
Jenny whimpered at the loss of him when he withdrew, but then he was turning her over and pressing her into the cold, unforgiving wood of the desk. He lined himself up again, kneading the soft cheeks of her bottom and pressing the tip of his cock against her entrance. When he thrust into her this time it was slow and deliberate, and she felt every inch of him against her. He pulled back and pressed in again, savouring the movement, grazing his fingertips up her back. She knew that he was trying to delay his own climax; could tell by his laboured breathing and the steady, purposeful movement of his hips. He continued the same agonisingly slow pace for several moments, then seemed to get something of a grip on himself and increased his speed, just slightly. At the same time, he snaked his fingers into her hair and gently tugged, questioningly.
“Yes, please; pull my hair.” She hissed, pressing her head back into his closed fist. He obeyed, tugging harder until her back was arching off the desk. Jenny felt him bend over her, his stomach against her back, pulling her head back so that he could press hot kisses against the side of her throat.
“God, you look good like this,” He breathed into her ear, “Bent over my desk, naked and hot and so, so wet.” He illustrated the last by picking up his pace again, and Jenny moaned at the sound and feel of his sharp hips slapping against the soft flesh of her thighs.
“Have you thought about this before?” She asked, trying to keep to the arousal out of her voice and failing spectacularly. “Daydreamed about taking me, hard and fast, in the library when anybody could walk in and catch us?” He groaned in response, tightening his grip on her hair and pounding into her unforgivingly. Jenny began thrusting her hips back against him, desperate once again to reach her own climax. He took the hint, pulling her back slightly so that he could slide his free hand between the desk and her hips to circle her clit. This time, when she came he continued thrusting into her, moaning loudly as she clenched around him. He held out just a little longer, then his hips stilled and he came, hard and hot inside her, still pressing her into the desk, fingers twisted in her dark hair.
They stayed like that for a few moments, both panting and grinning, sweat dripping onto the desk. Then Giles pushed himself off of her, tucking himself back inside his underwear and trousers, which were both still around his thighs. Jenny turned over to gaze lazily up at him, making no move to get dressed or even get off the desk.
“Wow,” She said simply, as Giles bent to pick up his shirt and tugged it back on. “If I’d known you were that good in bed I’d have jumped you weeks ago.”
He blushed red, stammered as if he were going to say something then seemed to think better of it.
“Go on,” She encouraged, pushing herself into a sitting position, “what?”
“I was going to point out that that wasn’t really ‘in bed’,” He said, a slight glint in his dark eyes.
She laughed then, looping her hands around his neck to tug him in for another kiss. This one, once again, was gentle and delicate, a symphony of lips and tongue that danced through her like music.
Giles pulled back and whispered sultrily into her neck, “Although, for the record, I am.”