The London Sonnets

Spoilers: Anything through Buffy S4 is fair game.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Property of Joss and ME. Just playing.
Summary: A lazy day in bed.
A/N: Follows All Frailties That Besiege All Kinds Of Blood. I think it has become my new goal to see how many times I can make Savvy say “guh” during once piece. Without her fine eye, this wouldn’t look half as good. The title is taken from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 31. For previous installments in the Menageaverse, please visit our website at www.responsibleadults.sadbhyl.riverworld.net.


Strong arms wrapped around Joyce and pulled her close. She smiled, snuggling deeper into the embrace. With the flesh-to-flesh contact of Rupert spooned protectively against her back, there was nowhere else she would rather be at that moment. Sometimes it was nice just to be held.

After nearly two months of uncertainty, things felt right again, or at least on their way to being right again. Many issues remained to be resolved, but they could worry about that later. Such thoughts were better left for another time, when she didn’t have an intelligent and gorgeous man naked and curled around her in bed.

The man in question seemed to be waking up finally. Joyce felt feather-light kisses being placed along her neck and shoulder. Nothing demanding yet, but she could tell by the stirrings against her backside that demanding wasn’t too far off.

Rupert’s right hand began to stroke lightly along her arm, detouring slightly over her breasts before going back and sinking slower, abandoning arm for stomach. His motions were soothing, not rushed, tracing random patterns.

Joyce moaned when his hand delved between her legs.

“I knew you were awake,” his voice rumbled close to her ear.

“And if I wasn’t?” she hooked her upper leg back over his, opening herself up to Rupert.

“You would have been soon,” his fingers slid inside her, making Joyce gasp.

“Twice last night wasn’t enough?” she asked as she arched back into him, seeking more contact, his erection throbbing quite nicely against her rear. It occurred to her that Rupert hadn’t taken her from behind yet. Ethan had a couple of times now, but never Rupert. Just the thought of it added to her arousal.

“Counting the door, it was three times,” Rupert corrected, keeping his pace agonizingly slow. “And, Joyce, there’s never enough when it comes to you.”

Never enough? “Oh god!” she moaned. Fingers so talented, she didn’t want them to stop, but she wanted, no needed to feel him sheathed inside her as well. Maybe… “Rupert, please...”

“Please what, Joyce? Please stop?” his ministrations stilled, voice low and rough, but she grabbed his hand before he could move away. He began fingering her again. “Please what, Joyce?”

“Please . . . more,” she pleaded. “I need to feel more of you.”

“More?”

“More,” she said firmly, ass grinding against his erection for emphasis.

“Joyce, are you certain?” the teasing was gone from his voice now. “I didn’t bring anyth—”

“Check my carry-on. Should be near the top,” she cut him off.

With a quick kiss to her shoulder, Rupert untangled himself and made his way to the bathroom. Joyce tried to wait patiently while he searched, but her body was just too aroused. Of its own volition, her right hand snuck between her legs and picked up where Rupert had left off. Her own small, smooth fingers only tiding her over until Rupert’s thicker, more calloused ones returned. The memory of his touch alone was almost enough to make her come. Battle-worn hands so gentle in their teasing, tracing along her labia, stroking her to almost unbearable ecstasy . . .

She wasn’t aware of his return until his hand wrapped around hers, stopping the movement.

Craning her neck back, she attempted to glare at him but was sure the smile tugging at her lips defeated the look. “You were taking too long.”

“Well, it wasn’t where you said it was. Had to find it for myself,” he captured her mouth. Letting go of her hand, he broke the kiss. “If you’d rather finish yourself off, be my guest. I have no problem watching.”

“Maybe later,” she grinned, grabbing the tube from him and unscrewing the cap. Holding it up to him, “But right now, I had other things in mind.”

“At your command, my lady,” Rupert managed to bow. “If you would be so kind…”

Obligingly, Joyce rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her knees. Lightly he began to massage along her lower back and down to her cheeks, moving slowly inward. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous while she waited. Rupert was thicker than Ethan after all. Soon she felt a cool, slick finger begin to work its way inside. She shivered in response.

“Are you alright?” The concern was evident in his voice.

“A little cold, but nice,” she replied, keeping her breathing even and relaxing her muscles.

A moment later he added a second finger with easy thrusts, followed soon by a third. The last finger was almost too much, but after the burn of stretching passed, it began to feel quite good. Joyce’s arousal increased in kind. He seemed satisfied and removed all three, only to replace them a moment later with the head of his cock.

“I’m okay,” she answered his unasked question and shifted back as he began to press in, enjoying how completely he filled her. They both exhaled mutual groans when he was fully sheathed.

Rupert’s hands went around her waist, raising her. Satisfied with the position, his right hand again slid down, grazing apart her lips before sinking deep inside her empty center.

Cock and fingers began to thrust alternately, filling her and building her up. Over-sensitized as her body was, she could feel Rupert everywhere.

Joyce reveled in the sensation. God, it was wonderful. Almost as good as when she’d had both of them inside of her.

“Harder!” she cried, pushing the thoughts from her mind as Rupert acquiesced. Not now. She wouldn’t, couldn’t think about that now. Too distracting. Right now she—“Oh god, Rupert!” she screamed, climax crashing through her body without warning.

Joyce vaguely felt Rupert shudder with his own release soon after, so lost was she in the pleasure washing over her.

Finally still, Rupert pulled out, and they both collapsed on the bed, sweaty and spent.

She turned to face him, seeking out his blue eyes between the heavy lids. Reaching her hand behind his neck, Joyce pulled Rupert to her for a deep kiss.

“Thank you,” she breathed, finally, fingers tracing delicately across his features.

He shook his head, “No, thank you, Joyce. I knew that . . . but I never expected . . .”

“It’s nice to do something different once in awhile,” she said.

Rupert smiled back, kissing her quickly. After awhile, Joyce felt her eyes begin to droop. She was just drifting off when his next comment pulled her back to consciousness.

“Agnes probably thinks I’m murdering you up here.” His tone was light.

She blinked at him.

“You are quite the screamer.”

Joyce swatted him lightly for that. “I’m sure Agnes is used to it.”

She woke up to the warm gentle caress of his mouth along the column of her throat.

“Mm,” Joyce opened her eyes.

Rupert glanced up, a wicked smirk on his lips. “I was wondering how long it would be before you woke up.”

“I can’t imagine why I’m so tired,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

The next thing Joyce knew, Rupert had lifted her the the air and was carrying her to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” she laughed as he nudged open the door. The laughter quickly died when she saw what he had done. “Oh, Rupert,” she gasped.

The blinds had been drawn to keep out the midday sun, and the room was bathed in the warm glow of a dozen candles lined up around the Jacuzzi. She could just make out the steam in the flickering light. Rupert had drawn her a bath, complete with bubbles.

“Joyce? What’s the matter?” he asked with concern, fingers going to her cheeks. It was then she realized she was crying.

“I don’t think I’ve ever . . . I mean it’s so . . .” She couldn’t find the words. Instead she kissed him hungrily, trying to tell him how she felt that way. “Thank you, Rupert.”

“It’s not much, but Agnes came through in a pinch,” he smiled with relief.

He carefully lowered her into the water. Joyce let out a contented sigh as the heat seeped into her sore muscles. While she might be in great shape, she wasn’t a young woman anymore. Activities took their toll. She leaned back, reveling in the soothing peace the bath afforded.

“Close your eyes and lean forward. This shouldn’t be too cold.”

Joyce did as she was instructed and soon felt tepid water cascading over her head, Rupert’s free hand moving her hair to make sure the water caught it all. His hands moved in front of her as he squeezed shampoo into his palm, then disappeared again as he began to gently work it into a rich lather over her scalp. He seemed to find every spot of possible tension as his fingers massaged along her head, down to her neck and finally along her shoulders.

“You won’t be too offended if I melt, will you?” she queried when he finished.

“I would be offended if you didn’t,” he chuckled. “Close your eyes.”

No worries there. Joyce didn’t think she could keep them open them if she tried. He poured the water over her head a few times, making sure to rinse thoroughly. She heard him rise, and next felt him step into the tub, slipping behind her. He pulled her back to rest against him and she willingly relaxed.

“This is wonderful,” she whispered as they lay there, watching the shadows dance. “I think you may have spoiled me.”

“All goes according to plan,” he said, nibbling lightly at her ear.

“Keep doing that,” she moaned when his tongue began to move around her ear and down along her throat, alternating with faint nips of his teeth.

Threading her fingers through his, she brought their arms to wrap around her.

“Wonderful,” she said again, shifting so he could pay attention to the other side of her neck. “You’re an amazing man, Rupert Giles.”

“Only because of you, Joyce,” he said, voice grown husky. “You bring out the best in me.”

They enjoyed the quiet then, just being with each other. Minutes or hours could have passed as they soaked. Joyce was dimly aware of the water cooling off. Finally, reaching a mutual decision, they rose together.

“Someone needs to invent water that doesn’t cool off. The everlasting bath,” Joyce feigned complaint.

“And no one would ever go anywhere,” Rupert pointed out as he wrapped a thick, fluffy towel around her and helped her out of the bath.

After he had finished drying her off, she drew him close and kissed him. “You’re too good to me.”

“No such thing,” he kissed her back, towel forgotten.

Suddenly, she was in his arms again, being carried back in to the bedroom and set on the bed. He joined her then and started trailing kisses across her clean skin. There was a rumble deep in his throat that vibrated against her skin. She could feel his lips moving, but what he was saying was a mystery. Whatever it was it felt good.

He moved lower, murmuring all the way, pausing to tease the places that made her shiver. And then he was between her legs, tongue plunging in, curling up and dragging along her sensitive flesh as he pulled out. In again, deeper, seeking the one spot that made her hips arc up off the bed. All the way out this time, sliding higher to lave her clit into aching arousal. Building, building, pressing her farther toward the precipice. She came at last, climax tingling through her entire body.

Joyce didn’t think there was a time that she had ever been more completely relaxed.

Crawling up, Rupert stared down at her with a bemused expression. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” she practically purred, rolling toward him. “Very buoyant.”

“I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch,” he kissed her lightly on the forehead, stroking carefully along her temple. Her eyes began to drift shut. “Sleep well, my dearest Joyce, sleep well.”

And she did.

Afternoon was fading into evening, and Joyce was famished. No wonder, since she couldn’t recall eating a single thing over the course of the day. By mutual agreement, they decided an evening of casual dining was in order. Rupert promised her the quintessential pub experience. Showered and dressed, they headed out into the London evening.

Great beer and overly greasy food, the perfect way to refuel after a day of debauchery.

“What’s your pleasure?” she asked, getting up to head for the bar.

“Besides you, Joyce?” he grinned. “A Guinness. What are you getting?”

“Black and Tan,” Joyce replied.

Rupert seemed taken aback.

“Yes, I do like good beers every now and then,” she smiled. “It’s a pub, what did you expect me to drink?”

“Definitely not that,” he laughed as she went off to order for them.

Joyce scanned the crowd at the bar while she waited for their drinks. While the US and UK were an ocean apart in many ways, the bar scene was definitely not one of them. The one cultural consistency.

Take the man chatting up the raven beauty at the far end of the bar. A gorgeous woman alone in a bar was guaranteed not to be alone for long. While she could only see the back of the man, Joyce envied the woman the attention. Trim and sleek, the man exuded power and self-possession. Wait. There was something familiar about—

The man turned, caught her watching him. His dark eyes grew wide in recognition. And possibly fear?

“Ethan,” she breathed.

She strode toward him, trying to keep her face neutral and ignoring the small twinge of anger and jealousy that flared inside.

“Small world, isn’t it?” she asked coolly.

“Joyce!” the confident mask slick ick into place. “This is a surprise.”

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, voice even. The woman, she was pleased to note, took her arrival as the cue to leave.

“I’ll hazard a guess and assume you didn’t come to London alone,” Ethan stated. Before she could reply, he spoke again. “Hullo, Ripper.”

Joyce turned to see Rupert behind her, fury making his eyes glitter dangerously. Her muscles, which had been relaxed from the day’s earlier activities, immediately seized with tension. This couldn’t possibly end well.