Page 35 of Puck Tease
Miller’s footsteps receded, fading into the party’s roar.
The moment his presence was gone, Jax’s chest collapsed, expelling the tension in a harsh rush. His legs trembled slightly. "Fuck," he whispered, "That was close."
He looked down at me. I met his gaze, my eyes wide and swimming with a frantic terror, his cock still buried to the hilt in my throat, drool leaking from the corners of my mouth. The fear in my eyes, the raw, unadulterated panic, didn't deter him. It ignited him.
"You heard him," Jax growled, his voice a low, fierce snarl. "We have to go. So finish me. Now."
He abandoned all pretense of caution. Both hands tangled in my hair, and he began to skull-fuck me, a violent, desperate rhythm. He slammed into my mouth, using my throat like a sleeve, a wet, smacking sound echoing in the tiny closet.Slap. Slap. Slap.The sound of his hips hitting my face was loud, insistent.
"Take it," he hissed, his voice strained. "Take it, slut. Swallow it down."
He was panting now, his composure cracking, the thin veneer of control shattering under the pressure. The proximity of the team, the casual conversation with Miller, the sheer, reckless risk—it had pushed him over the edge.
"I'm gonna—" he gasped, the word ripped from his throat.
He pulled out at the last second.
No warning. He simply yanked himself free and aimed.
He came all over my face.
Hot, thick ropes of semen lashed across my cheek, my nose, my eyelids. It coated my lashes, gluing one eye shut, a massive, explosive load fueled by adrenaline and alcohol. He groaned, a deep, shuddering sound, his body shaking as he emptied himself onto me.
I knelt there, panting, my face slick and gleaming. I tasted the salt on my lips. I felt the heat of it sliding down my chin, a warm, viscous stream. Jax leaned against the hanging coats, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked down at me. He looked at the mess he’d made. He looked at the cum dripping off my nose.
He smiled.
It was a dark, possessive curve of his lips. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled handkerchief. He crouched down. His hand, surprisingly gentle,wiped my face. Not rough, but not soft either. He cleaned my eyes, my cheeks, dabbing away the evidence.
"Stand up," he said.
I pushed myself to my feet. My legs felt like jelly, trembling beneath me. My fingers, still sticky, fumbled with my belt, buckling it. Jax tucked himself back into his pants, zipped up, and smoothed his shirt. He looked perfectly composed, as if nothing had happened, save for the tell-tale flush on his cheeks and the lingering darkness in his eyes.
"Hood up," he ordered.
I pulled my hood up, obscuring my face.
"Let's go."
He opened the door.
We stepped out into the hallway. The music still blared, a wall of sound. The party raged on, a swirling vortex of bodies and noise. No one looked at us. No one knew that five feet away, the Captain had just taken his roommate in a coat closet while talking to the goalie.
Jax’s hand landed on the back of my neck. He squeezed, his thumb pressing right into the bandage under my hoodie, sending a sharp spike of pain through the hazy aftermath of pleasure. "My room," he whispered, leaning close, his lips brushing my ear. "We're leaving."
"Your room?" The question was a dull echo in my still-reeling mind.
"Yeah. The truck is outside."
He steered me toward the back door, bypassing the kitchen, away from the lingering scents and sounds of the party.
"But... the blonde," I stammered, my thoughts still thick and sluggish. "You were talking to her."
Jax scoffed, a short, dismissive sound. "I don't want the blonde, Tom," he said, his grip tightening on my neck as hepushed me out into the cool night air. "She doesn't know how to keep a secret."
He unlocked the truck, the sharp click cutting through the faint party din. He opened the passenger door for me. "And she definitely doesn't look as good as you do with my cum on her face." He slammed the door shut.
