CW: smut later in chapter
Jonathan was the last family member I'd had left. My only brother. I should have wanted to mourn him, but I didn't. What I felt was relief, like I was stranded in the ocean, struggling against a tide, and finally managed to make it to shore.
A small part of me did feel sad, but not because of his death. I kept thinking about those photos of Jonathan I had found in Jocelyn's closet. The smiling baby and joyful toddler. I was sad for the man he had become, for the brother I never got to have. How different would things have been if Jocelyn never left? Would her presence have been a good influence on him? Would he have been a good person instead? Would we have had a normal sibling relationship?
None of that mattered, though. Jonathan wasn't a good person. He'd been mean and vile, a constant dark presence looming on the horizon. With him gone, I didn't have to worry anymore. I wasn't wondering what he was plotting. I wasn't waiting for retaliation. I wasn't scared he'd be found innocent and walk free. I hadn't realized how much all that was pulling me down, a shoe-sucking mud refusing to let me loose. Now, there was no mud. Nothing but a clean, paved path forward.
My brother's death didn't feel real to me until I identified his remains, his face pale and his body hidden beneath a starch white sheet. It was weird how at peace he looked—no scowl or anger present on his features. There was no sign of the hatred that ran through his veins. Those photos of him as a child ran through my head again.
I let the coroner know that it was indeed my brother lying on that cold metal slab. He gave me a solemn nod before covering Jonathan's face again. Without another word, I turned and left, meeting Jace in the hallway where I had asked him to wait. Viewing Jonathan's body was something I felt I needed to do on my own, but Jace insisted on coming with me anyway.
Jace didn't apologize or offer any condolences. Instead, he grabbed my hand and led me toward a back entrance. The media circus had begun to die down until word of Jonathan's death got out, and a mob of reporters and news crews crowded the front of the building.
"Are you hungry?" Jace asked as we walked down the sidewalk.
"Dude, yes," I said. We'd skipped breakfast to make my meeting with Hodge earlier, and it was now well past lunchtime. My stomach grumbled in agreement, and Jace let out a small chuckle.
We decided on Taki's since it was a short walk away. Sitting in the vinyl booth felt weird with how normal everything had been the last time I was there. Well, as normal as it could be for me. Jace was just Jace, not a government agent. Jonathan and Valentine were alive. My name wasn't splashed across papers and magazines.
I had been sitting here with Maia. Maia, who I hadn't talked to at all since everything turned to shit. I owed her a call and an explanation. And an apology. Her calls had stopped awhile ago, and I wondered if she would take a call from me at this point anyway.
Jace kept eyeing me, but not in his usual way. It was almost like he was waiting for something. I set my fork down halfway through my pancakes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
"I'm just concerned," he answered with a small lift of his shoulder.
"Why?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "I said I'm fine."
I could tell he wanted to make a snide remark, but he held it back, instead saying, "Which is what concerns me."
"Me being okay concerns you?" I scoffed.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned his elbows on the table, careful to avoid getting his sleeve on his plate. "Clare, you just identified your brother's body, and you're acting like nothing happened."
"You're waiting for me to break down," I inferred.
"It's the expected reaction," he said gently.
"Well, it's not going to happen. I'm not upset he's dead. Quite the opposite, actually. And I already know that makes me a shitty person, so you don't have to bother saying anything." I shoved the rest of my food away and stood from the table.
Cursing under his breath, Jace shot his hand out and pulled me back into the booth. "I understand the feeling. I do. I wasn't his biggest fan either, but you've been through a lot recently." He ran his thumb over the back of my hand. "It's been one thing after another. All that stress has to be weighing on you."
It had been, but I wasn't telling him that. "All I want to do is move on and start over. Is that too much to ask?"
He offered a kind smile. "Not at all."
Sleep didn't come to me that night. I tossed and turned under the blue bedspread in Jace's room. We'd decided to stay in the city overnight again instead of driving back, and I was sure sleeping in a bed other than my own wasn't helping my restlessness. I eventually gave up, threw the blanket off, and slipped out of bed. My bare feet were silent on the plush carpet as I tiptoed to the kitchen for a glass of water.
On my way back, I stopped by Jace's living room. The moon filtered in through the window and illuminated his sleeping form on the pull-out. He was on his stomach with his head turned toward me and both arms hooked under the pillow.
I leaned against the wall, watching the gentle rise and fall of his naked back. He'd been commandeering my thoughts tonight, keeping me from sleep.
I was tired of keeping away. I missed being close and intimate with him. Now that Jonathan was gone, nothing was holding me back. Part of me had been worried he only stuck around to ensure justice was served. But Jonathan was dead, his and Valentine's associates were either in custody or dispersed without anyone to take over The Circle, and Jace was still here. He'd been there through all of it, taking what little I gave in terms of companionship and affection.
He'd been patient and making grand gestures: the photos, meeting his mom, quitting the FBI. And what had I done? Showed him Jocelyn's grave, let him comfort me after a few nightmares, and indulged him with a single kiss. If I wanted things between us to move forward, and I did, then I needed to put in some more effort. I couldn't keep piling everything on top of him. It was time to share some of the weight.
I quietly crossed the room and nudged Jace as to not startle him. He cracked an eye open, humming in question.
"Can I sleep with you?" I whispered.
He gave me a sleepy half nod and rolled over to his back, opening a space for me. The mattress springs squeaked as I crawled in next to him, resting my head on his chest and throwing an arm over his stomach. His breathing quickly evened out again, and I kissed the bare skin of his chest.
"I love you," I murmured, closing my eyes and letting sleep finally pull me under.
My legs were tangled with Jace's when I woke up, his arms wrapped firmly around me. I wiggled a bit, but he tightened his hold.
"Not yet," he said, his voice husky with sleep.
He pulled me closer to him, and I gasped when I felt his erection press into my hip.
"Shit, Clary. Sorry." He started to move away.
"No, it's fine," I assured him, bringing my hand to his face.
He stilled under my touch and flicked his eyes between mine. I could feel the pounding of his heart through my thin t-shirt. I moved my hand into his hair, my fingers disappearing into the golden curls, and pulled his lips down to meet mine.
He hesitated at first, surprised I was making the first move again, but then he took control of the kiss. I was rolled onto my back, Jace hovering over me with his knees on the inside of my thighs. His hands fisted the sheets next to my head, but he didn't try to touch me in any way other than where our mouths and tongues met.
I lifted my hips to meet his, making him groan. Yet, his hands remained where they were. He was waiting for me to lead, making sure he didn't push me to move faster than I was ready to.
He removed his lips from mine when I grabbed his hand and placed it on my breast. His dark, hooded eyes looked at me for reassurance, and I gave him a small nod.
Jace brought his mouth to my neck, gently sucking while his hand kneaded my breast. His fingers pulled at my nipple through my shirt, eliciting a moan. Needing to feel his skin on mine, I propped myself up and tore off my shirt.
His full attention went to my newly exposed skin. With his lips wrapped around one peak as his hand caressed and tweaked the other. I brought my hips to his again, his hardness pressing deliciously against where I needed him most.
Sensing my impatience, he kept my nipple in his warm mouth but moved his hand down to the waistband of my shorts. His eyes met mine, once again asking for permission.
"Please," I breathed.
His fingers dipped into my shorts and panties, and he groaned around my nipple as he met my slick flesh. The vibration went straight to my core, bringing me closer to the edge.
He released my breast as his fingers slid easily inside. "Always so wet for me, love."
Three of his fingers pumped in and out while his thumb moved in tight circles against my clit. He brought his mouth to breasts again, and it wasn't long until my head was thrown against the pillows, my back arched and my walls milking his fingers. His name was a low moan falling from my lips.
"God, you're so beautiful when you come," he said, kneeling between my legs. He removed his hand from my panties and sucked his fingers.
I leaned up to kiss him, and we continued to kiss, touch, lick, and suck as our remaining clothes disappeared. My blood was thrumming and my center throbbing by time Jace leaned over and produced a foil packet from his wallet on the floor.
He nestled himself between my thighs and took my hands in his, pinning them to the bed above my head.
"Are you sure about this? We can stop," he said in a strained voice.
"Please," I begged, wiggling my hips.
He teased me, pressing the tip against my entrance but not fully penetrating. "Please what, sweetheart?" His voice was gravelly with desire.
"Inside," I whined. "I want you inside me."
The words were barely out of my mouth before he pushed his length all the way in. I whimpered at the fullness, stretching to fit him.
"Soft and slow or hard and fast, baby?" he asked, nipping at my bottom lip.
When I started this, I had every intention of soft and sweet lovemaking. But now that we were here, all the emotions, all the love, were overwhelming. I wanted the opposite.
"Hard," I gasped, feeling him begin to move inside me.
His strokes were deep and fast, causing the pull-out to scoot against the floor. A guttural moan escaped my throat, the coil in my abdomen tightening.
"You feel so good, Clare," Jace groaned.
I cried out when he hit just the right spot, leaving me balancing at the precipice.
"I can tell you're close," he breathed. "The way you're squeezing my cock. Your cheeks flushed. Breathing erratic. I love seeing you like this."
"So close," I confirmed.
"Me too," he grunted, releasing one of my hand and beginning to circle my clit. "Come for me, sweetheart. Now."
His words sent me falling over the edge with a soft cry, and I pulsated around him. He followed soon after, my name carried on his moan.
Jace collapsed on top of me, careful to avoid crushing me. I ran my hands through his hair, which was damp with sweat, as our heart rates and breathing calmed down.
"Where did that come from?" he asked, rolling onto his back and bringing me to lay on top of him.
I rested my chin on his chest, right over his pounding heart, and looked up at his face. "I love you, Jace Herondale, and I'm tired of fighting against it."
Some of you were waiting for more *spice* again, so here ya go.