I gasp when he rolls his hips, creating just the right amount of friction against the cotton boxer briefs I’m still wearing.
“Jace—”
“I told you,” he rasps, lips on my neck, teeth biting hard enough to make me shiver. “If I start, I’m not stopping. Not today.”
“I’m not asking you to stop,” I whisper in his ear as I grind against him. “Keep going.”
His hands slide down my sides, stopping at my waist as he stands, lifting me with him as if I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, trusting him completely. His mouth only leaves my neck to drag along my jaw, his starvation palpable, like tasting isn’t enough. He wants to devour me whole.
Jace doesn’t take me to the bed.
He carries me across the room until my back meets the wall. The chill seeps through my skin, a sharp contrast to the heat his body is radiating.
“Can’t put you in the bed,” he explains, glancing over his shoulder to frown at my rumpled quilt. “It’s dirty after what he did before he slept there last night.”
The possessive note in his voice lands low in my stomach. I fight the grin threatening to overtake me.
Jace presses closer, pinning me to the wall as he reaches down and gently pulls my legs away from his waist, one at a time. My bare feet meet the floor, toes curling against the cool wood as he keeps me exactly where he wants me with nothing but his hips and his hands. The latter settles on my face, grounding and gentle on my cheeks.
“You want this?” he asks, voice raw. “Here? Now?”
“I want you. Here and now.” I tip my head back against the wall, meet his gaze as I reach between us, palming the hard line of him through his jeans. “What happened in that bed last night does not change my decision.”
Something dark and satisfied flashes across his face, and he growls—actually growls—as he shoves my shirt up and off. His mouth is on me before the fabric hits the floor, lips wrapping around a nipple, tongue teasing until I arch into him and moan his name.
The way he leans back to gaze at me, pure worship in his hazel eyes, tells me he’s done pretending this was ever a question.
He’s all in.
And goddammit, so am I.
Jace drops to his knees without warning. The speed of his decision steals the air from my lungs. His hands slide down my hips, slow and deliberate, dragging my impromptu shorts with him until they’re pooling around my ankles. He tosses them to the side as if they’ve offended him.
I’m dizzy with how fast he takes control, how fast I give it to him.
The cool air kisses my skin, and I shiver before I can stop myself.
His mouth follows the goosebumps that pop up across my legs, leading his kisses to the inside of my thigh. He savors each brush of his lips, working his way higher until my head thumps against the wall.
Jace lifts my right leg over his shoulder. It’s a quiet claim, opening me to him in a way that makes my pulse riot before he buries his mouth at the apex of my thighs.
He takes his time, changing pace and pressure, mixing up his rhythm. Every switch feels intentional, like he’s watching my reactions and adjusting on the fly just to wreck me slower. He ruins me with each slow of his tongue. Every filthy little groan against my skin makes my thighs shake.
He doesn’t stop until I’m coming for him, crying out my release loud enough for the neighbors to hear. I fall apart, my back bowing off the wall, his hands the only support holding me up.
“Jace,” I plead when it’s too much, my hands pushing weakly at his head. “Please.”
“Mmm.” He hums against my skin, a deep masculine sound, as he eases my leg down, lazy and pleased. “That’s my favorite sound.”
He stands, and I grab his shirt, pulling his mouth to mine, so I can taste myself on his tongue, the proof of what he just did to me, and he groans like it hits him straight in the spine.
“You’re mine now,” he says against my lips. “Do you understand that?”
I nod, desperate and ready to guide him into me, but he takes me by the wrist, moving my hand.
“God, Eris,” he murmurs as he reaches for his shirt, then the zipper of his jeans. “Please tell me you’re on some form of birth control because if your?—”
“I’ve got an IUD,” I cut him off, breathless and unsteady. “Silas didn’t tell you?”
