“I love you so much.” Jack whispers against her neck, eyes shut tightly. “I. I just don’t have any other way to say it.” he tries to put words to it, as his hand, shaking as anything, presses against her chest and feels the shape of her breast through the layers she’s been wrapped in. She feels beautiful. She feels amazing.
His other hand rests against her side, feeling her warmth, and he opens his eyes as he kisses along her chin until he finds her mouth again, already waiting for him as he kisses her. Jack can’t explain where this bravery came from. His lantern, already? Surely not. But wherever it came from he welcomes it so much.
She feels faint; light-headed in a good way when his hand touches her. She had been about to explain to him, to answer what he said when his mouth finds hers, kissing him back and instead trying to tell him with her lips, communicating with body language that it was okay, that she knew and could feel his love with every gesture and every touch.
Her fingers stroke his skin in light circles, barely brushing along as they move down, reaching inside his turtleneck towards his back, feeling his spine. Oh god how she wanted him, a wetness between her legs that was slightly foreign but welcoming.
Ideas began to form in her mind of how it could work but a part of her argues with it, thinking here wasn’t the best place. What if she regretted it later, having her first time with him on the rooftop rather in a bedroom away from prying eyes? She tried to quell her desire but it was so strong she found she couldn’t.
He shudders as he feels her hands pushing up beneath his turtle neck, and warm against his back. What a place for her to touch him like this for the first time. They’ve never touched like this, never kissed like this and the burning desire within his groin strains against the constraints of his jeans and a part of him wants them off, wants them down, and… and…
Jack sucks at her bottom lip a moment, his eyes opening only just so he can look at her, to see her this close. She’s still gorgeous, still beautiful, still his. Nothing would ever stop that. The hand against her breast pushes closer still before sliding his hand away, moving it to her other one, even going so far to push beneath the first blanket wrapped around her so when his hand does find her breast he feels the point of her nipple pressing against his palm.
The man groans at the sensation and his hips unwillingly rock forward despite having no where to go.
Jack Maple 