“Okay,” I whisper.
Jace’s voice is a breath against my lips. “Yeah. Okay.”
His breath is still warm against my lips. I’m not done. Neither is he.
The second time our mouths meet, it’s different, no longer tentative or testing. This one comes with heat, with pressure, with weeks of tension finally snapping. His hands find my waist, firm and certain, like he’s done holding back.
I sink into him without thinking.
His mouth is softer than I expected. Slower, too, not devouring. Tracing every angle. Like he wants to memorize me this way. I tilt my head, deepen the kiss, and he answers immediately, one hand sliding up my back, the other curling into the edge of my shirt.
My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly, and that’s when he exhales against my mouth, the sound wrecked and low it makes me weak.
His movements stay precise, controlled, but his restraint is fraying. I feel it in the way his grip tightens. In the soft curse he breathes when I nip at his bottom lip. In the way his body leans into mine.
His hands grip my hips like he’s trying to stay grounded.
“Isobel,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, “you’re going to ruin me.”
I smile against his mouth. “That’s the plan.”
He kisses me harder.
My shirt rides up. His fingers brush bare skin.
And for a second, we both still, breath caught, foreheads pressed together.
His chest is rising hard beneath my palms. I can feel the steady beat of his heart. His lips are red. His hands haven’t moved. This version of him…it does something to me.
I feel bold, powerful.
Sexy.
“You’re… addictive,” he says roughly.
I smirk. “Well, you may need to detox then.”
Jace narrows his gaze. “We both know you’ll only be answering to me.”
“Do we?” I sit back.
“Yes, because if it’s already this good now… imagine if I loved you.” His hands grip my hips.
“You’re sure of yourself,” I mumble.
“Oh, I’m quite confident in my abilities.” He smirks and grinds his hips up into me.
I gasp as I feel his hardness against me. His hands slip under the hem of my shirt, pressing into my skin.
He sits up until his mouth is against my ear. “Let me show you.” He nips my earlobe then kisses my neck.
I tilt my head, allowing him more access as his hands continue up my sides. He bites the base of my neck, and one hand tangles in my hair.
“Jace…” A breathy moan escapes me.
He growls into my neck. Gripping my thighs tightly, he stands and walks to the bed, dropping me down. I bounce slightly, looking up at him. He hovers over me, eyes dark with desire. Any restraint has snapped.
He lifts one arm over his head, pulling his shirt off in the way only skilled men do. I have to try not to drool at every sculpted muscle that flexes. The veins that run up his forearms, how his chest rises and falls with every breath.
