Puck The Halls | Jack Hughes

TWENTY FIVE

I'VE NEVER HAD A FORMAL GOWN TAKEN OFF MY BODY before. Actually, I'd never had any article of clothing taken off my body before, not for this reason, and never so purposefully. Jack wastes no time in stepping toward me, his arms reaching around my back and grazing the skin of my shoulders. His fingertips grasp the zip of my dress, eyes boring into mine, silently asking for permission.

I give him a simple nod, my own gaze not leaving his, letting him know that it was more than okay for him to proceed. He doesn't hesitate, and suddenly, his knuckles are gracing my spine, the zip of my midnight blue gown going down, down, down, until it's completely unzipped. Jack helps me slip out of the gown, my cheeks ragingly red and the blush I'm sporting so deep it reaches the tips of my ears. This didn't seem fair. I've got a formal gown pooled at my feet, the only piece of clothing covering me is a pair of black underwear.

They're not sexy, not in any way, just basic black cotton, but Jack doesn't seem to mind, because his eyes are raking over my body, taking me in slowly, as if committing the sight of me to memory, and he looks hungry.

He's still so close to me I can feel the body heat radiating from his skin, but I'm suddenly whining, because there's an entire layer of clothes still between us. Jack smirks, a small laugh fluttering from his lips as he reaches out with his forefinger and thumb, capturing my chin in his hold and bringing my lips up to meet his.

He kisses me tenderly, passionately, and I'm mildly surprised because I thought this would have gone a completely different way. With the way we'd been building tension, teasing, and for so long, I thought Jack would have ripped me out of my dress and screwed me senseless against the nearest wall. But, he's not rough in any way, in fact, his kisses, though passionate, are feather light and tender. Like he's loving me. It takes me a moment to realise he's doing exactly what I asked, he's proving it to me.

"Jack," I whisper against his lips, and a groan falls from his mouth, catching me by surprise and knocking the wind out of me. He's so fucking delicious. I take this moment to realise just how badly I want to taste him, and I wonder if he feels the same. "Please."

I'm begging, and I quite honestly don't even know what for. For him to fuck me? Eat me? Take his clothes off? I don't even know anymore, I just knew that kissing him in the doorway of our hotel, was no longer enough.

"Patience," he murmurs, hands dropping from my face to brush down my entire body. His fingers trace over my nipples, and I feel the pool between my legs start to become wetter by the second. I needed him, and I'm pretty sure he knew that. "Up."

I do as I'm told, jumping into his grip, which is now under my thighs, spreading me in a way that has me once again, whining.

Another chuckle falls from his lips as he lays me down on the hotel bed, hovering between my legs, which are ultimately spread for him. I feel like a mess, my hair splayed out on the pillow above me, my breasts on display for the boy I undoubtedly loved and my underwear soaked for him. But the way he looks at me, the way he's taking in every inch of me, like he's desperate, makes me feel fucking fantastic.

"You're so god damn beautiful," he breaths, but god damn it I don't want him to be nice to me right now, I want him to ruin me.

"Please, Jack," I beg, furrowing my brows and pouting my lips, my hips buck at the thought of having him there, and my back arches for him, his eyes light up like Christmas, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"What do you want pretty girl?" He rasps, lowering himself between my legs subtly, fingers tracing down the inside of my thighs.

"You," I gasp, bringing my hips up to meet him.