Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

TWENTY NINE

MY ATTRACTION FOR THIS BOY WAS STARTING TO GET a little out of hand. Eight weeks ago I would have never openly asked to have sex with a boy, but now here I was, praying he'd screw me so hard I wouldn't be able to walk in the back of his car.

He was between my legs, kissing me ferociously, the kind of intensity that some may describe as angry, and maybe he was sort of angry. It had taken us way too long to get to this point, way too long to openly admit how we felt. If I'd known Jack would have kissed me like this, I would have told him how I felt weeks ago.

His fingers are tangled in my hair, breathless moans falling from our lips, getting lost in each others mouths. I lift my body to reach his, to press us together, missing the feeling of him against me.

"Jack," I whisper, earning a deep groan in response. "I don't want you to be gentle."

His hips buck at my words, another groan, this time, closer to a growl is sounded in my ear. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I breathe, tugging his hair, trying to get him to look at me. I blink up at him, breathing. "I want you to ruin me."

He definitely growls at that, dropping his forehead to the crook of my neck. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you, sweet girl."

I whimper at his words, and the way he bites down on the exposed skin of my shoulder, hard. He sucks on my skin, biting and kissing and pulling in the best of ways, and I feel my core ache for him, positive I'm a puddle between my legs.

"Please fuck me," I beg, furrowing my eyebrows as he continues his torture, no doubt leaving a handful of deep purple bruises on my shoulder. I was never a fan of hickeys, but right now, I was ready to ask Jack to leave a love bite on every inch of my skin.

He chuckles. "Patience, baby."

I drop my head back, groaning, because I don't want to be patient, I want to feel Jack inside me, have him pound into me until I feel numb.

"How about we take these off?" He grins, inching down towards the waistband of my jeans. My eyes light up at the mention of removing clothing that stood between me and Jack's fingers, or tongue, or both. He grins, taking my look of pure excitement as a green light, and begins unbuttoning my pants in a haste, wanting them gone just as badly. He yanks them down my thighs, and I have to lift my hips to help him, but as he pulls my jeans over my legs, he falls back into the back passenger door with a laugh. A giggle of my own slips back as he flashes me a look of horror. "Why the fuck did you wear jeans?"

"Well, I didn't exactly expect to be railed by you in your car tonight."

"Why the fuck not?" He argues, though he's smiling. My jeans are finally off, and now he's reaching for my underwear. He near rips them off me, tossing them over his front seat somewhere and I'm positive I'll never find them again. "I've been trying so hard not to pin you to the closest wall and screw you senseless all week."

I frown slightly. "You've been avoiding me."

"Hell yeah I have," he snapped. "You came down stairs in my hockey shirt and your shorts so tiny I could see your pussy when you bent over and fuck me, Miracle, you weren't wearing underwear and I was seconds away from bending you over your kitchen counter and eating you out right there."

I shrugged. "I never wear underwear when you're over."

Jack smirked. "Seriously?"

"When I was fifteen and you were seventeen and you and Trevor used to talk about hot girls all the time you said it's hot when girls don't wear underwear and teenage Miracle took that to heart."

"Wait, wait, wait," he asked, choking out a laugh. "You've been doing it since then?"

I shrugged. "Admittedly I was a virgin and had no idea what sex even was, but yeah, I would have sold my soul for you."