I made a noise—half protest, half desperate plea. My arms pulled the pillow under me tight, clutching for something to anchor my body as the sensations ricocheted through my core. My face burned, but I couldn’t turn away, not when he was watching me so closely and breathing me in like I was his everything.
“Pretty little Vessel,” he purred, and my spine arched as he curled his finger again. I could feel it—the building, pulsing thing—hot and terrible and strange, like something was about to snap and I would shatter along with it.
He was loving this. I could see it in the intensity of his gaze, the way his lips parted in awe as he worked me open.
“Tell me how it feels,” Jace ordered, his voice rough.
My mouth fumbled, words tripping over themselves as I tried to remember what language was. “It’s… it’s…” I tried again, but all that came out was a soft, desperate whine. “It’s s-so much.” The tears that filled my eyes now weren’t from pain. They weren’t even really from shame. It was more like something in me was coming undone.
His voice gentled as he said, “You’re doing perfect, baby. Just a little more, yeah?”
I nodded. The movement made the pressure shift inside me, and I let out a humiliating, keening sound. I wanted to burrow under the blankets and vanish, but Jace’s gaze held me hostage.
Oh God, it felt like something was coming—something explosive and life-altering and so, so sinful.
“Jace,” I panted.
“Are you gonna come for me, sweet boy?”
“H-help, please,” I begged.
Jace groaned, pupils blown out. “Come, Elior.” A hand wrapped around my swollen shaft, the pressure and the sensation of his rough palm made my eyes roll back as my body shuddered and locked up.
“Oh, oh, ohhh,” I moaned, rocking into his hand as rope after rope of sticky white shot onto my bed.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Empty those tight little balls for Daddy. Fuuuck,yes,” he growled.
My hips twitched as a final, small spurt left me, then I collapsed, boneless.
Breathing heavily, I closed my eyes, my cheek resting against the pillow. Somewhere through the fog, I recognized Jace getting up from the bed and the rustling of his clothes.
When a hot, spongy thing rubbed against my lips, my eyes popped open, and I was met with the sight of Jace standing over me, his hand tugging his long, tanned penis. The flushed head circled my lips, painting them with his arousal. I sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jace, who was staring down at me with half-lidded eyes.
“So goddamn perfect,” he grunted, his hand practically blurring. “Gonna take such good care of you.”
I swallowed and inhaled his musk, then cautiously flicked my tongue along his tip.
“Fuck,” he moaned, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Were you curious for a taste? Such a good boy. What do you think? You like Daddy’s cock?”
My face reddened. He used such vulgar words with ease.
“Close your eyes. Gotta come on that perfect fucking face.”
I gasped quietly, but stayed still, closing my eyes as he’d asked.
It was only a few seconds before Jace let out a long, drawn-out moan, and I felt the hot spray of his release across my skin.
“Mine,” he said, before joining me back on the bed.
A minute or two passed with both of us catching our breath, then Jace placed a chaste kiss on my shoulder and started to get up.
The fog cleared from my head, and suddenly everything felt too bright.
My skin was flushed and sensitive, and my heart was stumbling over itself in a way that made my whole being ache. Jace was moving around the room—quiet, purposeful, not hurried at all. Somehow that made it worse. Or better. I didn’t know.
I didn’t know anything right then.
My limbs trembled as I pushed myself upright, and a sharp pain shot across my back. I sucked in a hiss and immediately hunched forward, instinctively protecting the wounded skin.
