Page 40 of Protector

Puck has never touched me in this way before. I mean, I’ve only recently just started to touch myself like this, so it’s all new to me.

My cheeks heat with my inexperience, and suddenly I feel really embarrassed.

“Bonnie,” Puck says softly, and even though I’d love to avert my gaze, I look at him. “It’s my first time too. Everything, I, I’ve never done anything.”

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“It was always you, Bonnie. I waited for this, for you.”

His cheeks turn a shade of pink to match mine, but a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, knowing that this is ours. There’s nothing and no one to compare it to, and we can make this moment whatever we want it to be.

After roaming his hands over my boobs a few more times, Puck pulls at the end of the top and lifts it completely over my head so I’m bare chested and vulnerable. I’ve never been naked in front of anyone before. Never had a guy look at my boobs or touch them, and the feeling is so different to when I’ve touched myself.

His fingers are featherlight and leave a tingling sensation in his wake. I still can’t believe he’s touching me like this.

Leaning down to kiss me, my bare chest pushed against his, I feel the tingle between my legs expand, and I push up to meet his bulge.

“Before we do anything, Bon, I need to make sure you’re ready, okay?” he asks, and I nod, shifting slightly when he falls to my side.

Puck pulls the covers up over us, and once I’m hidden underneath them, his hand travels down my stomach, towards the edge of my pyjama shorts.

“Can I?” he asks politely, and I nod, too afraid to speak.

I’m so nervous about him touching me there, terrified it’s going to hurt, but knowing that it’s necessary. I’ve touched myself there before, and I know that once I’m wet, it gets easier.

Puck’s finger slips between my waistband and into my knickers, and I buck my hips slightly when his finger touches my heat.

My stomach swirls with a frenzy of butterflies that I can’t quite explain, and it isn’t until after a few minutes that his finger descends lower, and he slowly enters me.

There’s a slight burning, but it’s not awful since he’s worked me up a bit.

It’s intrusive, but exciting all at the same time. I’ve teased myself with my fingers before in the dark in my bedroom, but it’s never felt like this.

My fingers aren’t as long as his, so they don’t reach as far. My fingers aren’t as firm as his, so they don’t feel as rough.

His movements are gentle and slow, but it still takes me a while to get used to it.

My body is aware of every single stroke, every tingle, alight with sensation. After a few more strokes, a very small whimper leaves my lips, and I squeeze them together tightly, a little embarrassed. I look at Puck, but his head is bent low, watching his hand move underneath my shorts, a small smile playing on his lips.

I move my hips to match his pace, that’s ever so slowly started to speed up, and then his fingers slide out slowly, rubbing over my clit, and I shiver, before he slips his fingers back into me.

It feels like it lasts forever as he uses his fingers to pleasure me and ensure I’m ready.

Though I don’t think anything will really prepare me.

Puck slips off the bed and goes to his bedside drawer, pulling it open and taking out a condom.

“We were given them at school a couple years ago,” he explains, and I just nod because I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to say.

Then Puck reaches the bedside lamp and flicks it off, plunging us into darkness, and I feel like I can breathe a little easier.

I hear Puck pulling his bottoms down, so I shimmy out of mine under the covers and throw them onto the floor.

The bed dips, and Puck climbs under the covers in between my legs. The room is quiet, but my ears don’t miss the ripping of the condom packet. My eyes start to adjust just enough that I can see Puck looking down and doing what I can only imagine is putting the condom on.

Does he know how to do it properly? What if it doesn’t work? What if it doesn’t fit him? Wait, what if he doesn’t fit in me?

I feel pressure at my entrance, and I squeeze Puck’s arms tightly in fear and anticipation. My mind starts to spiral at a hundred miles an hour, questions and insecurities and worries plaguing me, so much so that I don’t even realise Puck has paused, hovering over me, waiting for my word.

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