18. Bonnie
Age 16
He’s on my mind every waking and sleeping moment. Since the night of my birthday three weeks ago, my world almost feels normal.
I’m just a girl who’s in love with her boyfriend. A girl who gets teased by her big brother. A girl who reads the love letters she was given every day. A girl who goes on dates and never stops smiling, from the moment she wakes to the second she falls asleep.
Puck has literally changed my life, and for the first time ever, all those dreams of ours feel like one day, they really will become a reality.
For three weeks, I have been living a life of total bliss, and I don’t think there’s anything, not even Carlo, that can ruin it.
Sliding my fluffy dressing gown over my pyjamas, I creep to my bedroom door, open it, and look down the hallway from both directions, straining my ears for any sound.
I decide the coast is clear and tiptoe out, shutting my door behind me, but as I reach the other side of the open entrance hall to cross to the other side of the house, I hear Carlo’s deep voice echoing up the stairs.
“I don’t know where you’re sneaking off to, boy, but I’m not blind to it. I know you’ve been leaving the house at all sorts of hours and, quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck who or what you’re doing,” he says calmly, and I flinch at his language.
“But this is my house, and you’ll play by my rules, so you can continue sneaking out to wherever you go, King, but you’re on my side of the board now. You play by my rules, you do what I say, and you’ll train hard to become the man I need you to be to run this empire after me.”
I hear a firm and solid “okay” before Carlo speaks again.
“You’ll carry this with you everywhere. We will train you how to use it properly, but I trust you to know what you’re doing with whoever you use it on. Bring Dax by in the morning, and we can make sure he’s ready too. Oh, and King?” Carlo continues, and I train my ear down the stairs to hear his last words. “We don’t shoot to play, we shoot to kill. Every time.”
Footsteps retreat, so I pull back from the bannister and run on quiet feet to my destination.
I slip inside without knocking, knowing he’s waiting for me anyway, and press my back against the door, flicking the lock.
“Bonnie, what’s wrong?” Puck asks, getting off his bed and leaning down in front of me. His hands cradle my face as I take in deep breaths.
“Carlo, he, he gave King a gun and wants him to use it. He wants to train him to take over from him one day.”
Puck nods as if this isn’t news to him.
“It was inevitable, Bon. You’ve seen how much King is around Carlo recently.”
“I know, but… but a gun? He’s going to kill people?”
“Bonnie,” Puck says, keeping my head still so my eyes have nowhere else to look than into his.
“You know King. He isn’t going to go around killing people just because Carlo gave him a gun.”
I nod, because I know he’s right, but I can’t help the feeling of dread coursing through my veins after eavesdropping.
Nothing good can come from listening to a conversation not meant for your ears. There’s always a secret or intel, way too dark and damaging for you to comprehend, that you have to live with because you can’t tell anyone you heard it.
“Come here,” Puck whispers, dragging me over to the bed and lying down, resting my head on his chest.
“Did you know he was sneaking out?” I ask, placing my hand on Puck’s stomach.
“Who?”
“King.”
“I had my suspicions, but I don’t know why.”
“I think it’s a girl. He met a girl here the day before my birthday. She came with Kennedy Harlow.”
Puck sits in silence, considering this.
“He has been on his phone a lot the past few weeks, so maybe.” He shrugs.
“Do you think he’s in love?” I ask quietly, moving my hand so it sits on Puck’s bare chest under his shirt. He doesn’t flinch, but I feel the heat from his skin warm my hand and travel across my whole body.
“I mean, it’s not been that long, but if he’s sneaking out to see her…” I wonder aloud.
“I loved you from the very first day. Time is just a concept. There’s no right or wrong measure of time to decide something if your heart or mind is telling you differently.”
My stomach flutters at Puck”s words, and I wonder, for the millionth time, how I got so lucky.
Twisting my neck, I look up at him and press my lips onto his, gently at first, but once he reciprocates, I force the kiss deeper.
His tongue glides with mine, and my hand trails up his bare stomach, taking the shirt with me. I feel every ridge of muscle under my palm, and I squeeze my legs together when I feel that blistering heat in between them. The same heat I feel any time his tongue tangles with mine and I’m this close to him.
Without being able to hold off anymore, I launch myself forwards so I’m straddling him, leaning back to watch both hands now run up and down his hard stomach.
Puck lies still, letting me explore, but he twitches, and the bulge between his legs starts to grow against me when my fingers stroke over his nipple.
He doesn’t move or push me off, or tell me to stop. He lets my fingers explore whilst staying statue still, his hands resting on my hips, his chest rising and falling in slow, calculated breaths.
“Bonnie,” he says softly, and I sigh, knowing the rejection is coming. “I don’t know how much longer I can pretend to ignore the ache in my gut every time I stop you from touching me.”
I look up at him, a mixture of lust and confusion shining in my eyes, the same look reflected in his.
“What?” I whisper, leaning forwards so my face is hovering directly over his. But in one swift move, he flips us around so I’m lying comfortably on his pillows, and he hovers over me.
“I want you, Bonnie. In fact…” He takes a deep breath in, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I need you.”
I smile, blowing out a small breath of relief.
“I need you too.”
Puck dips lower, his lips brushing gently over mine, but not quite kissing me.
“But what if things change?” he questions innocently, and my heart cracks a little.
“There is nothing you could do or say to change the way I feel about you, Puck.”
And I mean every single word.
Puck finally closes the gap, kissing me passionately and fiercely, with all the love he has for me.
My hands travel up his back, pulling his top with it until it’s up and over his head. I’ve seen him shirtless loads of times before, but there’s something about this moment that feels so much more intimate and final.
Puck’s hand slides under my own shirt, and I shiver when his fingers trace over the underside of my boob and then finally over my nipple.
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.
“Puck,” I whisper, just before he goes to move his hips forwards. “I’m scared.”
“Me too,” he confesses, and a tear falls down my cheeks, into the soft pillows and my hair. Puck leans down, kissing me tenderly. “But I will never hurt you. If you tell me to stop, I will, okay?”
“Okay.”
His hand reaches up to wipe away a couple of stray tears, and I smile up at him shyly.
“Do you want me to stop, Bon? We have all the time in the world, remember.”
I think about it for a second, his firm body above mine, with him resting at my entrance. Even though I’m scared, even though I’m nervous, I’ve never been more sure about something in my life.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
Puck smiles, leaning down to softly kiss me, and ever so slowly, he pushes forwards. I scrunch my eyes together, more tears falling at the burn between my legs.
I knew it was going to hurt, but this is worse than I thought.
It feels like it lasts hours until Puck has pushed all the way through my barriers and stops moving, his hand cupping my cheek.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, stammering a little, his breaths deep.
“It burns a little,” I say truthfully. Although right now, it burns a lot. I shimmy underneath him, letting my body become used to the newer intrusion. He’s a lot thicker than his fingers.
But Puck, being the patient, most amazing man he is, stays still for a while longer, letting me get used to the unfamiliar feeling until, eventually, I give him the go ahead to move.
For a few agonising strokes, the burn is intense, but after a while, it subsides and becomes more of an ache.
I can tell Puck is struggling to compose his breathing, and after a couple more strokes, he puffs out a quiet, “God.”
Even though it hurts and is a little uncomfortable, I’ve never been happier to be in this moment with Puck, to be this close with him and become one like this.
I love this boy.
The moment was fleeting.It didn’t last for more than a few minutes, and I gained nothing from the experience aside from finally crossing that line with Puck and deepening my love and connection with him.
But I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
I feel safe, I feel loved, I feel valued and wanted.
I couldn’t have imagined a better person to share my first time with. And I know that there will be many more, and even though this wasn’t the type of sex that is described in my romance novels, I know that every single one of my feelings for Puck is valid and real and that he reciprocates them equally.
After all, how many people can say they lost their virginity to the love of their life?
I love Puck, and we can only go up from here.