Her fingers, delicate and thin like glass, twisted into the ivory fabric of his shirt, pushing it up and grazing the bronze skin underneath. Her palm skimmed the taut muscles and defined lines, tracing each ridge and edge with comfort and familiarity in every movement.
He groaned softly, unable to take the way she held back, the way she brushed across his burning skin without going deeper. The way she lowered her eyes and held herself apart from his body, not allowing him to enter her.
His arms encircled her petite waist, tugging her closer. His fingers dug into the silk of her shirt and pushed it up, pulling it up and over her head and tossing it to the side carelessly. Her porcelain skin, smooth and pale, seemed to invite him in. Touch me.
And then his shirt was off, whipped to the side by her eager hands. Those hands pushed him back and he let her, falling obediently back onto the bed and pulling her with him. Her bra strap had slipped down her shoulder and he toyed with it playfully as he watched her expression.
Now she was the impatient one, fumbling with the button on his jeans and tugging them off with a hasty passion. He pushed the clothing off the bed and pulled her on top of him, burying his face in her silky red-gold hair, The clasp of her jeggings came undone under his nimble fingers and they pressed together, lips locking in a passionate embrace.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and she pushed herself on top of him, pulling back her hair as she came in for another kiss. His skin burned under her touch like burnished gold on fire. His amber eyes were dark with desire as he took back control, rolling her under him and placing butterfly kisses all along her delicate collarbone. She groaned and arched her back, copper eyelashes fluttering.
His fingers, which handled a knife with such precision, found the clasp of her bra and toyed with it. His eyes asked permission, hesitating, not wanting to push it.
"Yes," she moaned, pulling him closer. He undid the clasp of her bra and tugged it off, following with her panties. Hands stroked her skin, running fiery fingers over the ridges and edges of her shoulder blades, her ribs, her collarbone.
Kisses, like little flowers blooming along her cheekbones and on peach soft lips, placed softly on her body. Her skin was translucent like ice or glass, flushed slightly with the force of his desire and her passion. They were no longer separate bring but one and the same, the light and the dark of love. She was a part of him, the missing piece. He was that link that completed her.
The sheets twisted around their legs, around their bare bodies locked in a powerful embrace. Her strength was gone and she lay on the bed, her damp scarlet locks fanning out under her head.
He propped himself up and lost himself in her, lost himself in the intensity of her emerald gaze. There were gold flecks in the center of the brilliant green that held his attention like nothing else. What was it about her, he thought, that intrigued him so much? He'd kissed blondes and brunettes, short girls and tall girls, blue eyes and brown eyes. There'd been one girl, a junior model. Yet he couldn't anyone more beautiful than her. His Clary, his and no one else's.
She was asleep now, copper lashes fluttering slightly with each breath. He rolled off her and lay next to her, tugging her small, warm body close to his. He could feel the light ridges of rune scars on her shoulders and her arms. Her body fit perfectly up against him and he buried his face in her thick curls, breathing in her intoxicating scent of sandalwood and rose water. The two fragrances mingled and blended, reaching out and pulling his heavy eyelids down. Sighing contentedly, Jace snuggled into Clary's body and fell fast asleep.