A/N: I own none of this. That is the right of Cassandra Clare. This is my first The Mortal Instruments fanfic and was inspired by the Claddagh ring that I wear. I hope you enjoy it and are willing to leave me a review. I always appreciate constructive criticism and I relish in reviews telling me how much a person has liked it. Without further ado, here it is, Just for the Night.
Jace moved through the crowd, scanning all the faces. His friends had dragged him to New York from London for this 30th birthday, determined to show him a good time. So far, he was bored. He caught sight of a pretty woman with thick coppery hair.
"Alec," he started, tapping his friend on the shoulder to get his attention in the loud club, "who's that?"
"Who?" he asked, his eyes followed the line of sight of Jaces' finger. Seeing who he was pointing to, he answered, "Oh that's Clary."
Clary Fray, he had heard that name before, had he met her before? Everyone seemed to know her but never said much and often preferred to just change the subject. He couldn't explain it, but just her name seemed to compel him. He needed to meet her, almost as though he had little choice in the matter. They shared the same grander circle of friends, so it was easily done.
Sure enough, in a short period of time, he was able to prod Alec and Isabelle enough to work it out and he was granted an introduction.
"Jace, this is Clary Fray, daughter of Jocelyn Fray. "Clary, this is Jace." Alec gestured quickly. It was a simple introduction, but it served its purpose. Everyone at least knew of Jocelyn Fray, if not knew her personally.
Clary wasn't open or overtly friendly but she was sociable enough, he supposed. She danced with their friends and never objected when he moved to dance with her, the upbeat tempo never seeming to relent. Whenever the group stopped for a drink, he managed to get a seat next to her and always tucked in close enough that their arms or legs were touching.
What is wrong with me? He thought to himself. He was never like this. He avoided touching people. What was it about her? She drew him to her, without even realizing it.
When the house DJ announced a slower song to close the night with, he didn't hesitate; "Clary?" he asked, brushing her arm with the back of his knuckles. She turned to him. "Would you dance with me?"
She nodded before moving off her stool and walking to the floor. Alec and Isabella both stared after him with surprise. Jace was never so forward and generally didn't like people.
He took her hand and led her to the far corner of the dance floor, far away from their friends. His hands slid smoothly around her waist, pulling her close. He could feel the gooseflesh rise as her arms slid up his and around his shoulders. They swayed gently to the song, not speaking at all. He dipped his head down near the crook of her neck, taking in her scent. She didn't discourage him or even pull away. Taking that as encouragement, he gently rubbed his cheek against hers affectionately, slowly forging thoughts of where this could lead as the closing bars to the song came to an end.
Clary moved to step back but Jace held her firm. The expressions on her face flashed quickly between confusion, uncertainty and very briefly fear. He smiled at her as he lightly trailed his finger tips over her ribs and shoulders and up her arms to take her hands in his. He wasn't going to give her up yet.
As he ran his fingers over her knuckles, he felt a ring on her left hand. She wore a simple ring on her fourth finger comprised of two hands, a heart and a crown. He knew what a Claddagh was and what it symbolized when worn the way she wore it: the heart facing in. His eyes shot up to meet hers, his expression changing in a heartbeat; the hurt as clear as day.
"Your heart is taken," he said. It was a statement, not a question. He knew he had no right to be angry but he was. All he could do was shake his head and walk away to prevent from making a scene.
"Jace!" she called after him. He didn't turn around. She followed him the best she could. She needed to explain it to him, to make him understand. She didn't know why, but she couldn't have him hate her. She hadn't felt that kind of electrical attraction to someone for quite some time, or ever, if she was truly honest with herself.
She did find him; sitting on a rock wall outside the club. She dropped down beside him with no idea how to begin explaining. He kept his hands clasped tightly together and his eyes focussed on the ground at his feet.
"So who is he?" he almost spat. "Another shadow hunter?" He couldn't fathom why he was so upset with this woman whom he had just met. He knew all the shadow hunters, or so he thought he did.
"His name was Dominic. And no, he wasn't a shadow hunter," she answered quietly.
His head snapped up in surprise. Was? He looked at her confused.
She shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
"I resisted, for a long time, what I was born to be. I didn't want to be a shadow hunter, I didn't want to end up like my mom," she began. They all know Jocelyn's story so she knew it didn't need to be explained. "Dominic was a normal man, a mundane, "she continued. "He didn't know anything about my past, my parents or what I was. I never told him and hoped by him not knowing, we could live in a peaceful bubble. I was stupid and naive." She could see his posture relaxing next to her, even turning towards her slightly. "They attacked while I was away on 'a business trip'. That is what I would tell him when I left to see my mom. I wasn't there to protect him and he had no expectation of it. They killed him in their search for me. So yes, his name was Dominic," she finished before standing and walking away.
"Clary wait," he called; standing and grabbing her hand before she got too far. She pulled away quickly like she had been burned. "You do feel it, don't you?" seeming to have forgotten their brief conversation. He didn't need to describe the feeling to her, the electro-chemical attraction between them. She didn't respond but she let him reach for her hand again and let her be pulled against him.
"Jace..." she whispered, moments before letting all the emotions consume her. His lips were forceful but soft against hers. A sharp, short nip let her know he wanted more. She opened herself to him, his tongue cool and supple against her teeth and tongue as he explored. Her left hand went weave themselves into the locks of tawny curls and her other pulled him closer. His actions mirrored hers; holding the back of her neck and holding her close with equal ferocity.
Only mildly aware of how they got there, Jace shoved the barcode of the door key into the slot and pulled Clary into his room and shut the door quickly. Clary hasn't been to the institute in quite some times but was impressed with the modifications.
The door barely latched closed as Clary began pulling of Jace's characteristic leather jacket. They fumbled momentarily with the buckled straps of Clarys coat before discarding it with his coat. Boots were kicked off in their tangled movement towards the generous king-sized bed; another gracious modification. Clary felt the back of her knees hit the hard wood of the beds frame and allowed herself to fall backwards onto the soft mattress taking Jace with her. He could feel her tugging aggressively at his shirt and only pulled away long enough to fight with the buttons and drag it off his shoulders. He pulled her to a sitting position and made quick work of her shirt and bra.
She could almost take his breath away. He stood back for a moment to just look at her.
"You are beautiful, Clary." He moved to lay next to her, expecting some sarcastic quip to be given in retort. She only smiled and responded with, "You're not too bad yourself."
He buried his face in the auburn curls that scattered like hot ashes across the duvet. He kissed his way long the various tattooed runes that decorated her throat and shoulders, his left hand working his way over her breast. He could feel her heart pounding beneath his palms. He worked his way down her shoulders, nipping sensitive skin, flicking his tongue out to taste the salty skin of her clavicle and finally taking an erect nipple in his mouth.
Clary could not resist arching into his mouth with a moan. Her fingers which had been lazily moving across his back, working their way towards his belt buckle moved with more fervency. She wanted him and knew he wanted her. She could feel his erection straining against the jeans that held them against her thigh.
He felt her reach for his buckle and deftly moved away smiling with mischief.
"Now, now Miss Fray," he said with a tease. "No need to be in such a rush, is there?"
She looked at him incredulously. What man in his right mind would turn down a woman trying to get him naked? She didn't have time to form a coherent thought. That was interrupted by Jace making quick work of the skirt she was wearing. The zipper and hook released with ease and her lacy panties slid down her legs without a fight. He lifted her hips to push her farther up on the bed and settled himself between her knees.
Clary could do nothing besides lay back and enjoy his administrations. He was a talented man.
Jace slid his hands deftly up her legs, the smoothness of her skin a stark contrast to the calluses of his fingers. He could feel her resisting the urge to shudder and he blew gently against the moist folds of her womanhood. The muscles of her groin contracted in reaction when his fingers first came in contact with her. He gently parted her lips and flicked his tongue out against her swollen clit.
She let out a hiss in response; her leg and stomach muscles flexing tightly. Jace moved in closer, delving his tongue as deep into her as he could reach, moving his thumb to tease her sensitive bud in place of his thumb. When she was all but writhing in front of him, the blankets bunched in her fist, he finally moved up to her, having taken care of his jeans and underwear himself. He would need no encouragement to garner his own satisfaction.
When Clary felt him pull away from her, she couldn't help but feel a moment of disappointment. She had been engulfed in pleasures she had never felt and was dangerously close to orgasm. She lifted her head to see why he had stopped and was immediately distracted by his lips on hers again. She could taste herself on him; tangy and sweet. She could also feel his hard, hot erection against her core. Just a little further and she knew she would be in bliss. Her hands reached for his hips, desperate for their connection and the friction of gratification it would provide. He acquiesced to her desires, pushing into her tightness. She took his full length with sensuous ease.
It was Jaces' turn to suppress a groan of pleasure. She felt so hot and tight around him. He could feel her walls close tightly around his penis, seeming to pulse. He forced his mind to clear, intent on making this last. He teased himself, pulling out so just the tip of his penis was in her; the feeling of the cool air against the moist soft skin only increased his want. Her legs wrapped around his hips and pushed him back into her, hard and deep.
He kept one hand on her hip in an effort to control the momentum and the other braced to support his weight against her. His lips kissed every bare surface they could reach, working to elicit any and all responses from her. He could feel her muscles tightening again and the walls surrounding him contracting against his shaft. He no longer tried to resist the coming waves as he felt her reaching orgasm moments before his own release. He spent his seed deep inside her and collapsed in exhaustion on top of her; both breathing heavily with their exertion.
They soon drifted to sleep, knotted up in each others' arms; pleasantly exhausted.
Jace woke to a stream of light coming in the window; dust motes dancing in the fresh dawn glow. His memories came flooding back in happy recollection. He stretched and turned to where Clary had slept tight against him. The bed was empty. He sat upright in a quick bolt and looked around the room in a fleeting panic. There was no sign of her.
His eyes fell on the hard oak side table. Laying on a piece of familiar parchment lay a simple silver band, engraved lightly with the heart, hands and crown that matched the one she wore.
He looked at the words on the parchment, written in a neat, simple hand:
Jace,
You gave me love, friendship and loyalty. That is more than I could have asked any man for. I wish I was able to grant you the same for eternity, but my soul is broken, my heart damaged. But you made me feel alive again, made me feel love, even if it was just for the night.
Love,
Clary
