puckandpie | post-wedding

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jack

post-wedding

Anxious as we both are and sore as my feet are, Jack doesn't put up too much of a fight when I insist on using the app on my phone to call us a car. I spend the whole ride back to Chelsea with one hand wrapped tight in Jack's and trying not too fidget too much with the other. Butterflies are downright having a dance party in my belly, but it's not the sort of nerves I used to get before games or even the ones I'd get before checking practice.

No, these are the good kinds of nerves. Like the ones I felt right before Jack kissed me for the first time.

Everything becomes sort of blur once we make it back to the building even as I want to remember every last moment. We thank the driver and then take the elevator up to our floor, Jack's hand not leaving mine for a second. And then I lead him down the hallway to his apartment. Part of me kind of wants to do this in my own bed, but Jack's is about as familiar as mine these days and Macha and Shannon probably need to be let out. Or at least fed. Elvis should be fine.

Jack lets go of my hand to unlock the door and the kids are right there when we walk in, their tails wagging wildly.

It's a nice distraction.

"Hi, babies," I coo, ignoring the nerves and the heat still pumping through me. I glance over at Jack. "Do we need to feed them one last time before, uh. Before we do anything else?"

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I honestly can't believe how much of him there is. He starts moving again, sliding in deeper bit by bit and it's a wonder I'm not splitting in right in two. I'm still struggling to catch my breath when he stops and I can feel his his pelvis flush against my bottom and I know he's all the way in, that he's filling me up.

"Oh my God," I breath, shaking a little and so, so grateful when he leans down to press a shaky kiss to my lips. It's a nice distraction and I curl one trembling leg tighter around his waist as I wait for everything to adjust.

The kiss is sort of sloppy, sort of shaky, but it helps relax everything and I smooth my hands higher over his shoulders. "God, you feel... Jack." There are no words to describe how good it is, how full I am. The pain is easing little by little as I suck in breath after breath and finally manage a, "Please... please start moving."

The muscles in my core actually ache from trying so hard to keep myself still, but all of my attention is focused on the place where our bodies meet. I've never felt a sensation like this. Even slapping the puck towards the net for a game winning shot at the buzzer doesn't come close to comparing. He's vice-tight and molten hot, and I feel like I can barely breath as he draws me in not just with his body but with his everything. His eyes are big and brown and so fucking vulnerable, and I feel like I've just been given the world.

He tells me to move and I do, gasping as I roll my hips and sink into his body again. There's a sound ringing in my ears, quiet over the rush of blood, and it takes a moment for me to realize that it's my own voice that I'm hearing. Desperate French rolls off of my tongue and then it's just his name over and over, like nothing else even matters. "Bitty."

Jack eases his hips back and I can feel every inch of him as he slides out and then back in. It's the strangest feeling, almost uncomfortable, but I just can't get over the fact that he's inside me. That and the sound of his voice saying my name like that is just... I'm not sure he's ever sounded like he does right now, like he's as overwhelmed as I am.

Not to mention the French falling from his lips, oh my goodness.

"Jack," I breathe again, my voice hitching as he starts up a slow rhythm, every slow roll sending every nerve in my body on fire. "Oh, Jack. Oh my God." I'm useless like this, I know, just lying back and letting him rock into me, but I can't manage to do anything else but hold one, me knees up high and body curved, my hands grabbing tight to his shoulders.

And then he shifts just a little, changes the angle inside and my eyes snap open as pure heat shoots down my spine. I know just what he's hit and it's so astoundingly intense that I can't help the sound I make, my eyes wide as I try to hold on. "Fuck," cry out, lost in the sensation as I stare up at him, angling as best I can to make sure he hits that same spot again. "Oh God, please. Please, please, Jack. It's so good."

"I've got you, mon chou," I murmur, even though I feel close to falling apart myself. But he's trembling in my arms and his eyes are so big and dark, and I feel like I'm drowning in his gaze. I cling to him and roll my hips again, doing my best to hit that same spot. His reaction is like something out of a dream, unbelievably beautiful, and I never want him to stop looking like that.

And so I don't stop. I hold onto him and I sink in again and again, moving just a little faster and thrusting just a little harder, and I lean down to swallow up all the noises he's making in a deep, messy kiss.

"I want to know what it feels like when you come," I whisper, first in French and then again in English. I can only imagine how amazing it'll feel, how tight he'll get. "I want to see it so bad, Bits."

My face feels hot for so many reason, the least of which being that I've used a word I almost never ever use. But, frankly, I'm not sure I can be blamed. It's just... it's all so good. Everything feels so, so good.

He's still moving, rocking his hips back and then forward, sinking into me each time, filling me up and splitting me in two. All I can do it cling to him, desperate to hold on as my legs start to shake. Every other thrust or so, he hits that spot inside me, makes my breath catch and my nerves explode and I don't know how I can be so hard without him even touching me, but I already feel so close to the edge, can feel my come leaking from the tip to pool on my belly.

"Jack," I whine when he murmurs something in French. But then he tries in English and I'm whining for a while different reason.

"I can't-- I don't--" Because as good as it all is, I don't think I can come like this.

It's so easy to just get lost in this though and I keep one hand locked around the back of his neck, keeping him close as I breathe into his open mouth, swallowing every punched exhale as he rocks in deep. "You... you first, okay?" I manage finally, squeezing my thighs around him and rolling my hips upward. "Come inside me. Please."

"Merde," I groan, feeling all of the air leave my lungs as I thrust in deep. His cock is leaking between our bellies and I work my hand between us to wrap it around his cock. My hands still carry the callouses of a hockey player and I've always kind of liked the way they feel when I jerk off, and I can only hope that Bits feels the same. There hasn't been any complaints, at least, and his dick slides easily through the tight grip of my fist. "Me first, and then you."

It's not like it will take much effort. All I have to do is watch his face, his wide amber eyes and swollen cherry lips as I sink into his body. It's like we're one entity, almost like I won't be the same after this. I won't be the same, not at all. You can't feel something as amazing and intimate and perfect as this and not be a changed man, at least a little.

I stroke his cock in time with my thrusts and I stop holding back, letting my orgasm crash over me like a wave. I come like a shot, dick pulsing as I empty myself-- god, inside of him. It takes everything, every ounce of strength I have, to keep rocking my hips. The sensation makes me whimper and I work my hand around his cock, trying to coax his orgasm out of him with a pleading little whine. "Now, Bitty."

I hadn't really meant it as a challenge, but it's almost like Jack takes it that way anyway, his eyes going wide as he punches his hips forward, burying himself so deep inside me. And then he has a hand around me too, in a tight grip that has every muscle in my body winding tight.

"Oh," I breathe when he starts stroking me in time with his thrusting, every movement making electric shocks zing up my spine. I've never in my life felt something like this before, never felt anything even half as good and it's all I can do to keep clinging to Jack's broad shoulders, to just let myself feel.

I'm getting close, can feel it in the way my balls are drawing up tight and every muscle in my body is starting to clench. But Jack gets there first, his face contorting in a way I've seen before, though never quite like this. He's... amazing. That's the only word for it. He's amazing and beautiful and he loves me. He whines my name, his hand still tight around me, and my whole back bows under the force of it, my toes curling as I feel the whole wave rock through. Me feels huge inside me then as everything goes tight and I spill right over his fingers, shuddering through the shock of it, gasping for breath and I think I must white out as I fall back onto the mattress.

At the edge of my consciousness, I'm dimly aware of Bits coming all over my knuckles. I feel the white-hot spurts of it, feel him go limp and boneless against the bed. There is not a single part of me that wants to pull out, away from him. I just can't yet, so I collapse on top of him and suck in deep breaths as my arms go around him, smearing his come into our skin.

"Bitty," I murmur, unable to say anything else. He's warm and trembling underneath me and I just love him so fiercely. My whole word is narrowed down to him, and I open my mouth against his jaw as I struggle to get a hold of myself.

"Oh my goodness."

It's about all I can manage, my legs still trembling a little and my heart pounding so, so fast. I'm still breathing hard, like we just finished running sprints and the muscles in my thighs and hips are aching. Jack's draped over me and I swear I can feel his heartbeat just as easily as my own, his sweat slick with mine.

"Jack," I breathe a moment later, unable to keep the awe out of my voice as I bear down just a bit and then instantly whine at how big he still feels. "Jack, are-- are you okay?"

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that," I say with a breathless laugh that turns into a groan when he seems to open around my cock even more. I pull myself clumsily up onto my elbows, bracketing him with my arms as I look down at Bitty.

He looks so beautiful, glistening with sweat and lips bitten red. My fingers slide through his damp hair and I lean down for a kiss, one that's soft and lingering. It takes a long time for me to pull back, and I cup his cheek as I feel my heart start beating at normal speed. "Really, though. Was it-- how do you feel?"

Jack shifts then, enough that I can actually feel it inside and I gasp quietly at the jostling, the sound melting into a quiet groan as I slide my hands up his sides, skin so warm beneath my fingertips. I can't even describe how it feels to be so surrounded by him; I don't think I've ever felt so safe in all my life.

I hum into the kiss he presses to my lips then, opening up to it eagerly, the whole thing slow and wet and perfect and I feel more than a little dazed all over again when he pulls back. "A little sore," I tell him honestly, turning my head to press a kiss to the heel of his hand. "Good kind of sore, though. I like it. You inside me is, like... Goodness, I can't even tell you. Jack, you feel incredible."

My brows furrow when he says that he's sore, but I understand the good kind of sore. There's the sore you feel after a really good game on the ice, and I imagine it's a lot like that but even better. His lips press to my hand and I track his every movement, feeling sluggish and sated yet still so hyper-focused on him.

"So do you," I tell him breathlessly, cupping his cheek and sweeping a thumb tenderly under his eye. A small laugh tumbles from my lips, honest and soft and purely for him. My eyes are twinkling. "I think we should practice at this. A lot. Make sure we get it just right."

"You've always been a stickler for practice," I reply with a quiet laugh, unable to stop grinning up at him. Every touch is so tender now, so perfect. I can't help but wonder if it'll be like this every time, if it will always feel this... profound. A part of me sort of hopes not if only because I'll never be able to concentrate on a single other thing if so.

But I nod all the same and smooth my hands up and down his sides. "But I like this idea. Even if I sorta hope never get it just right. I mean, we wouldn't want to stop getting better, would we?"

"There is always room for improvement, Bittle," I tell him in my best Captain Voice, expression solemn until I can no longer hold back my smile. After a long, drawn out kiss, I slowly pull out of him because I've gone soft enough that pressure hurts. The loss of that connection makes me sigh, and I can't help but to curiously press my fingers against his hole. It's wet and open and-- oh, that's my come leaking out onto his thigh.

"That's--" My cheeks heat up, turning bright red as my eyes widen. I swallow hard and drag my wet fingertips along the crease of his thigh, embarrassed and turned on and utterly entranced. "Wow."

It's hard not to whimper when Jack shifts above me, his hips arching back as he slips out. The loss of him is almost as profound as when he'd been filling me up and I have to suck in a breath as I rest a hand against my lower belly.

He barely gives me any time to recover though before he's pressing a curious finger against me. My face burns a little when I realize he's touching his own come where it's leaking out and goodness, I can't even imagine the mess we're making of the sheets. I try to shift away and Jack's finger slides along the crease of my thigh as I bite my lip. "Is it really gross?" I ask, my heart pounding for a different reason this time. "We can use a condom next time if you want. Might be less messy that way."

"What? No," I tell him in a low voice, pulling my hand away in case it's making him uncomfortable. My cheeks are on fire and my throat bobs as I swallow hard. "It's-- I like it. Do you not?"

Sure, it's messy and we'll have to change the sheets, but I like being messy with him. It feels more intimate this way, all wet and sticky. He looks nervous and I lean forward to kiss him, wrapping my arms around him and rolling so that he's resting across my chest. His some spreads between our bellies and I reach up with my clean hand to push his hair back from his face. "Nothing about what we just did was gross. I loved all of it."

Something about Jack suddenly looking so nervous helps me feel a little better and I let out a breath, shaking my head as he shifts again.

"No, it's... I mean. Well, it feels kinda weird," I confess, my words cutting off when he wraps an arm around me and pulls me over to sprawl nearly on top of him. He's still all flushed beneath me and something about the gentle way he touches my hair, just makes my heart ache in the best way.

For a moment, all I can do is stare down at him, into this blue, blue eyes and that wide smile. He's the most gorgeous man I've met and, more than that, he's one of the smartest and strongest and kindest. And goodness, he chose me. Out of everyone here in this strange city absolutely filled to the brim with interesting and beautiful people, he chose me.

Without another thought, I lean down to press my lips to his, breathing into him as I press it deeper and not even realizing I'm shaking a little until I pull away, just far enough to whisper against him, "Sometimes it's a little scary much I love you."

"Bad weird?" I ask, and now it's my turn to be embarrassed. He's still on top of me and I move my hand away from his ass to rest it on his side instead, biting my lip nervously.

The feeling dissipates once he kisses me, and I wrap my arms more tightly around him when I feel him shiver. I don't know if it's because he's cold, or because of something else. My eyes are closed when he speaks, and they flutter open as I smile widely and touch his cheek. Our foreheads are pressed together and there's this warmth in my chest, growing and growing until I feel like I might actually burst. He loves me. Sometimes I don't really understand how or why, but he loves me. "Don't be scared. I love you too, Bitty."

His hand moves up to my side and I let out a low, quiet laugh as I shake my head. "I'm not scared of loving you, that isn't it," I promise him because I at least need to make that much clear. It's not that I'm afraid he'll intentionally hurt me anything like that; I trust Jack more than anyone, if I'm honest. I'd trust him with my life.

"It's more... well, this place doesn't work the way we're used to," I finally manage, lifting my head to look him in the eyes again. "There's no tellin' what's gonna happen, you know? I could wake up tomorrow and you might've disappeared. Or I could disappear. Or one of us could get kidnapped by fairies or abducted by aliens. There's no telling. And you're just... I'd sorta like to keep you forever. Or, well. As long as I can anyhow," I quickly add because words like forever feel sorta heavy. We've only been officially dating for a few months, after all.

The words make me anxious, the feeling creeping through the fog of my orgasm. Everything he's saying is true and I swallow with a dry click, forcing myself to stay calm. I don't want to ever think about Bittle suddenly not being here anymore, because it's about the worst possible scenario in any case.

"I want to keep you too," I tell him, brushing our noses together as I give him a smile. "Something could happen back home, too. Maybe not the fairies thing, but."

A slow breath escapes me and I lay down at his side, rolling to wrap an arm around his middle and hold him close. "You're right. There's no telling what's going to happen, so just... be here in this moment with me, okay? And we can hope that it lasts forever."

He's not wrong, I know. There are things back home that are just as likely as they are here, even the ones that sometimes keep me up at night. Nothing is ever guaranteed in life, as mama always used to say. There's no telling when something might happen.

Jack settles beside me then, a warm and comfortable weight and I find myself curling up against him immediately, feeling safe under his arm. My heart's still pounding and there's still that low thrill under my skin, but it's easing little by little, leaving only worn muscles and gentle sort of soreness. I manage a smile then and turn my head to press a kiss to his shoulder, lips lingering. "Honestly?" I tell him as I curl in tighter. "There's no place in this world or any world I'd rather be right now."

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post-wedding

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