To Lie and Burn

Now I will burn you back, I will burn you through,

Though I am damned for it we two will lie

And burn.

-Charlotte Mew, "In Nunhead Cemetery"

Will-

It was almost like a hallway at the Institute, only made all of smoothed stone, with torches at intervals set into metal brackets. Beside each torch was an arched door, also of stone. The first two stood open on empty dark rooms.

Beyond the third door was Tessa.

In front of the fire was a slim shadow, crouched on the ground. Will's hand went automatically to the hilt of the dagger at his waist—and then the shadow turned, hair slipping over her shoulder, and he saw her face.

Tessa. Tessa. Nothing else mattered in that moment. All he saw was Tessa and it was imperative that he get to her.

His hand fell away from the dagger as his heart lurched inside his chest with an impossible, painful force. I found her! I found her! was all that his mind screamed. He saw her expression change: curiosity, astonishment, disbelief. She rose to her feet, her skirts tumbling around her as she straightened, and he saw her hold her hand out.

"Will?" she said.

It was like a key turning the lock of a door, releasing him; he started forward. There had never been a greater distance than the distance that separated him from Tessa at that moment. It was a large room; at the moment, the distance between London and Cadair Idris seemed nothing to the distance across it. He felt a shudder, as of some sort of resistance, as he crossed the room. He saw Tessa hold her hand out, her mouth shaping words—and then she was in his arms, the breath half-knocked out of both of them as they collided with each other. Whatever she had to say could wait, he just needed to feel that she was all right.

She was up on her toes, her arms around his shoulders, whispering his name: "Will, Will, Will—" Her voice had never sounded sweeter to his ears. He buried his face against her neck, where her thick hair curled; she smelled of smoke and violet water. He clutched her even more tightly as her fingers curled against the back of his collar, and they clung together. For just that moment the grief that had clenched him like an iron fist since Jem's death seemed to relax and he could breathe. Tessa was like the breath he needed to survive, Jem always the anchor keeping him in safe waters.

He thought of the hell he had been in since he'd left London—the days of riding without stopping, the sleepless nights. Blood and loss and pain and fighting. All to bring him here. To Tessa. It was worth all of it to have her in his arms.

"Will," she said again, and he looked down into her tearstained face. There was a bruise across her cheekbone. Someone had hit her there, and his heart swelled with rage. He would find out who it was, and he would kill them. Death would seem like a mercy to what he would do to whomever had dared lay a hand on Tessa. If it was Mortmain, he would kill him only after he had burned his monstrous laboratory to the ground, that the madman might see the ruin of all his creation—"Will," Tessa said again, interrupting his thoughts. She sounded almost breathless. "Will, you idiot."

His romantic notions came to a screeching halt like a hackney cab in traffic on Fleet Street. "I—What?" He blinked, trying to make sense of what Tessa had said.

"Oh, Will," she said. Her lips were trembling; she looked as if she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Will's confusion mounted at her reaction. "Do you remember when you told me that the handsome young gentleman who came to rescue you was never wrong, not even if he said the sky was purple and made of hedgehogs?"

"The first time I ever saw you. Yes." This did nothing to clarify the situation to Will.

"Oh, my Will." His heart thumped at her calling him her Will. She drew gently away from his embrace, smoothing a tangled lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes remained fixed on his. "I cannot imagine how you came to find me, how difficult it must have been. It is incredible. But—do you really think Mortmain would leave me unguarded in a room with an open door?" She turned away and moved a few feet forward, then stopped abruptly. "Here," she said, and raised her hand, spreading her fingers wide. "The air is as solid as a wall here. This is a prison, Will, and now you are in it alongside me." His heart sank.

He moved to stand beside her, already knowing what he would find. He recalled the resistance he had felt as he crossed the room. The air rippled slightly when he touched it with his finger but was harder than a frozen lake. "I know the configuration," he said. "The Clave uses a version of it sometimes." He never thought he would be contained by one of these prisons. His hand curled itself into a fist, and he slammed it against the solid air, hard enough to bruise the bones in his hand. "Uffern gwaedlyd," he swore in Welsh. "All the bloody way across the county to get to you, and I can't even do this right. The moment I saw you, all I could think of was running to you. By the Angel, Tessa—" Will hated admitting that his emotions had gotten better of him. He was a Shadowhunter for crying out loud, he was supposed to be better than that!

"Will!" she caught at his arm. "Don't you dare apologize. Do you understand what it means to me that you are here? It is like a miracle or the direct intervention of Heaven, for I had been praying to see the faces of those I cared for again before I died." She spoke simply, straightforwardly—it was one of the things he had always loved about Tessa, that she did not hide or dissemble, but spoke her mind without embellishment. "When I was in the Dark House, there was no one who cared enough to search for me. When you found me, it was an accident. But now—"

Will felt a surge of anger toward Nathaniel Gray, for leaving Tessa to the machinations of the Dark Sisters and ultimately Mortmain. And his heart sank for now putting her in an even worse situation. "Now I have condemned us both to the same fate," he said in a low voice. He drew a dagger from his belt and drove it against the invisible wall before him. The runed silver blade of the dagger shattered, and Will cast the broken hilt aside and cursed again, under his breath.

Tessa put a light hand on his shoulder. He almost shrugged it off, feeling like he didn't deserve her comfort. "We are not condemned," she said. "Surely you have not come by yourself, Will. Henry, or Jem, will find us. From the other side of the wall, we can be freed. I have seen how Mortmain does it, and..."

Will did not know what happened then. His expression must have changed at the mention of Jem's name, for he saw some of the color leave her face. Her hand tightened on his arm. He'd dreaded this moment and now it had come.

"Tessa," he said. "I am alone."

The word "alone" come out broken, as if he could taste the bitterness of loss on his tongue and struggled to speak around it.

"Jem?" She said. It was more than a question. Will said nothing; his voice seemed to have fled. He had thought to spirit her from this place before he told her about Jem, had imagined telling her somewhere safe, somewhere where there would be space and time to comfort her. He knew now he had been a fool to think it, to imagine that what he had lost would not be written all over his face. The remaining color drained from her skin; it was like watching a fire flicker and go out. "No," she whispered.

Will's heart broke for Tessa. "Tessa..."

She took a step back from him, shaking her head.

"No, it's not possible. I would have known—it can't be possible."

He reached out a hand to her. "Tess—"

She had begun to shake violently. "No," she said again. "No, don't say it. If you don't say it, it won't be true. It can't be true. It isn't fair."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Will was at a loss for what else he could say to her that would make losing Jem any easier for her, if it were even possible.

Her face crumpled, shattered like a dam under too much pressure. She sank to her knees, folding in on herself. Her arms went around her body. She was holding herself tightly, as if she could keep from breaking apart. Will felt a fresh wave of the helpless agony he had experienced in the courtyard of the Green Man. What had he done? He had come here to save her, but instead of saving her he had only succeeded in inflicting agony. It was as if he were truly cursed—capable only of bringing suffering to those he loved. And he had never loved anyone, other than Jem, with the depth of emotion that he felt for Tessa. She had touched his very soul, irrevocably changing his entire existence.

"I am sorry," he said again, with all his heart in the words. "So sorry. I would have died for him if I could."

At that, she looked up. He braced himself for the accusation in her eyes, but it was not there. Instead she reached up her hand to him silently. In wonder and surprise he took it, and let her draw him down until he was kneeling opposite her.

Her face was streaked with tears, surrounded by the tumble of her hair, outlined in gold by the firelight. "I would have too," she said. "Oh, Will. This is all my fault. He threw away his life for me. If he had taken the drug more sparingly—if he had allowed himself to rest and be ill instead of pretending good health for my sake—"

Will couldn't stand her self-blame. "No!" He took her by the shoulders, turning her toward him. "It's not your fault. No one could imagine that it was—"

She shook her head. "How can you bear to have me near you?" she said in despair. "I took your parabatai from you. And now we will both die here. Because of me."

"Tessa," he whispered, shocked. He could not remember the last time he had been in this position, the last time he had had to comfort someone whose heart was broken, and had genuinely been allowed to, rather than forcing himself to turn away. He felt as clumsy as he had as a child, dropping knives from his hands before Jem had taught him how to properly use them. He cleared his throat. "Tessa, come here." He drew her toward him, until he was sitting on the ground and she was leaning against him, her head on his shoulder, his fingers threading through her hair. He could feel her body shaking against him, but she did not pull away. Instead she clung to him, as if truly his presence gave her comfort. The comfort he derived from being this close to her was like a balm to his shattered soul.

And if he thought of how warm she was in his arms or the feel of her breath on his skin, it was only for a moment, and he could pretend that it wasn't at all.

Tessa's grief, like a storm, spent itself slowly over the course of hours. She wept, and Will held her and did not let go, except for once when he rose and built up the fire. He returned swiftly and sat down beside her again, their backs against the invisible wall. She touched the place on his shoulder where her tears had soaked through the fabric. He didn't give a damn that there was now a large wet spot on his shirt. Will was just glad she'd had an outlet for her tumultuous emotions. It was truly all that he could offer her now that he was trapped with her.

"I'm sorry," she said. Will couldn't count the number of times she'd told him she was sorry over the past hours, as they'd shared the tales of what had happened to them since their separation at the Institute. He'd spoken to her of his farewell to Jem and Cecily, his ride across the countryside, the moment he had realized Jem was gone. It had been hard for him not to choke up again at the name of his parabatai, still drowning in his own well of grief. Tessa had told him of what Mortmain had demanded of her, that she Change into his father, and give him the last bit of the puzzle that would turn his automaton army into an unstoppable force. Will could practically feel the guilt that had radiated from her at this admission.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Tess," Will said now. He was looking toward the fire, the only light in the room. It painted him in shades of gold and black. The shadows under his eyes were violet, the angle of his cheekbones and collarbones sharply outlined. "You have suffered, just as I have. Seeing that village destroyed-"

"We were both there at the same time," Tessa said. Will could hear the wonder in her voice. "If I had known you were near-"

"If I had known you were near, I would have charged Balios directly up the hill to you."

"And been murdered by Mortmain's creatures in the process. It is better that you did not know." Will looked away toward the fire and she followed his gaze. "You found me in the end; that is what matters."

"Of course I found you. I promised Jem I would find you," Will said. "Some promises cannot be broken." Will tried to keep the despair from his tone. He'd found Tessa all right, but he'd still failed.

He took a shallow breath, feeling Tessa's side as he did so, as she was curled half against him, and his hands were shaking, almost imperceptibly, as he held her. A tiny part of Will knew he should not hold her in this manner. The only boys who should hold her like this were her brother and her fiance-but her brother and her fiance were both dead, and tomorrow Mortmain would find them and punish them both. In the face of all of that, Will couldn't bring himself to care about propriety or crossed lines.

"What was the point of all that pain?" she asked. "I loved him so much, and I wasn't even there when he died."

Will's heart clenched at Tessa's declaration of her feelings for Jem. He knew she felt that way and he had no right to feel as he did, but he couldn't help it, so he opted to focus on alleviating the senseless guilt she felt.

He smoothed his hand down her back-light and quick, afraid she would draw away. "Neither was I," he said. "I was in the courtyard of an inn, halfway to Wales, when I knew. I felt it. The bond between us being severed. It was as if a great pair of scissors had cut my heart in half."

"Will...," Tessa said. His grief was so palpable, it mixed with Tessa's to create a sharp sadness, lighter for being shared, though it was hard to say who was comforting who now. "You were always half his heart as well."

"I am the one who asked him to by my parabatai," Will said. "He was reluctant. He wanted me to understand that I was tying myself in what was meant to be a life bond to someone who would not live much of a life. But I wanted it, blindly wanted it, some proof that I wasn't alone, some way to show him what I owed him. And he gave way gracefully to what I wanted in the end. He always did."

"Don't," said Tessa. "Jem wasn't a martyr. It was no punishment for him, being your parabatai. You were like a brother for him-better than a brother, for you had chosen him. When he spoke of you, it was with loyalty and love, unclouded by any doubt." Will almost felt overcome by emotion at her words, but he pushed through it.

"I confronted him," he went on. "When I found he had been taking more of the yin fen than he should. I was so angry. I accused him of throwing his life away. He said, 'I can choose to be as much for her as I can be, to burn as brightly for her as I wish.'"

Will heard Tessa make a small sound in her throat. He knew it was her own guilt and heartache surfacing again.

"It was his choice, Tessa. Not something you forced upon him. He was never as happy as when he was with you." Will couldn't look at her, but only at the fire as he said this. It was the truth, but it still hurt to tell Tessa of Jem's happiness when it had made Will beyond jealous and his heart clench. "Whatever else I have ever said to you, no matter what, I am glad he had that time with you. You should be as well."

"You do not sound glad," Tessa said. Will cursed her astute observance.

Will was still looking into the fire. His black hair had been damp when he had come into the room, and it had dried in loose curls against his temples and forehead. "I disappointed him," he said. "He entrusted this to me, this one task, to follow you and find you, to bring you home safely. And now I fail at the final hurdle." He finally turned to look at her, his blue eyes unseeing. "I would not have left him. I would have stayed with him if he had asked, until he died. I would have stood by my oath. But he asked me to go after you..."

"Then you only did what he asked. You did not disappoint him." Tessa was always too quick to absolve him of his guilt.

"But it was also what was in my heart," he said. "I cannot separate selfishness from selflessness now. When I dreamed of saving you, the way you would look at me-" His voice dropped off abruptly, too conscious of what he'd been about to confess. "I am well punished for that hubris, at any rate."

"But I am rewarded." Will was not only shocked at her words but by her next action as she slipped her hand into his. Her palm was soft against his rough calluses. His chest hitched with surprised breath. "For I am not alone; I have you with me. And we should not give up all hope. There might still be a chance for us. To overpower Mortmain, or slip past him. If anyone can conjure a way to do it, you can."

Will's heart leapt at her words as he turned his gaze on her. His lashes shadowed his eyes as he said, "You are a wonder, Tessa Gray. To have such faith in me, though I have done nothing to earn it."

"Nothing?" Her voice rose. "Nothing to earn it? Will, you saved me from the Dark Sisters, you pushed me away to save me, you've saved me over and over again. You are a good man, one of the best I've ever known."

Will was as stunned as if she had pushed him. He licked his dry lips. "I wish you wouldn't say that," he whispered.

Tessa leaned toward him. "Will," she said. "The first time I saw you, I thought you looked like a hero from a storybook. You joked that you were Sir Galahad. Remember that? And for so long I tried to understand you that way-as if you were Mr. Darcy, or Lancelot, or poor miserable Sydney Carton-and that was just a disaster. It took me so long to understand, but I did, and I do now-you are not a hero out of a book."

Will gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "It's true," he said. "I am no hero." As amusing as it might've once been to imagine her trying to compare him to those fictional characters, Will was just glad she'd finally seen the truth about him.

"No," Tessa said. "You are a person, just like me." His eyes searched her face, mystified; she held his hand tighter, lacing her fingers with his. "Don't you see, Will? You're a person like me. You are like me. You say the things I think but never say out loud. You read the books I read. You love the poetry I love. You make me laugh with your ridiculous songs and they way you see the truth of everything. I feel like you can look inside me and see all the places I am odd or unusual and fit your heart around them, for you are odd and unusual in just the same way." With the hand that was not holding his, she touched his cheek, lightly. "We are the same."

Will's eyes fluttered closed; he could feel her fingertips against his lashes. It took every ounce of internal willpower he had to compose himself. When he spoke again, his voice was ragged but controlled. "Don't say those things, Tessa. Don't say them."

"Why not?"

"You said I am a good man," he said. "But I am not that good a man. And I am-I am catastrophically in love with you."

"Will-"

He had to say it now, just this one. If he didn't, then he never would. "I love you so much, so incredibly much," he went on, "and when you're this close to me, I forget who you are. I forget you're Jem's. I'd have to be the worst sort of person to think what I'm thinking right now. But I am thinking it."

"I loved Jem," Tessa said. "I love him still, and he loved me, but I am not anybody's, Will. My heart is my own. It is beyond you to control it. It has been beyond me to control it."

Will kept his eyes closed. His chest was rising and falling swiftly, and he was sure she could hear the hard thump of his heart, rapid beneath the solidity of his rib cage. Her body was warm against his, and alive. He wanted to savor the feeling.

"What do you think will happen tomorrow, Will?" she whispered. "When Mortmain finds us. Tell me honestly."

His hand moved carefully, almost unwillingly, to slide down her hair and come to rest at the juncture of her neck. He wondered if he was imagining the pounding of her pulse, answering his. "I think Mortmain will kill me. Or to be precise, he will have those creatures kill me. I am a decent Shadowhunter, Tess, but those automatons-they cannot be stopped. Runed blades serve as no better than ordinary weapons upon them, and seraph blades not at all."

"But you are not afraid."

"There are so many worse things than death," Will replied. "Not to be loved or not to be able to love: that is worse. And to go down fighting as a Shadowhunter should, there is no dishonor in that. An honorable death-I have always wanted that."

He felt a shiver pass through Tessa before she said, "There are two things I want." The steadiness of her voice surprised Will, and yet it didn't at the same time. Afraid, but brave, that was the Tessa he'd fallen so deeply in love with. "If you think Mortmain will try to kill you tomorrow, then I wish to be given a weapon. I shall divest myself of my clockwork angel, and I shall fight by your side, and if we do down, we go down together. For, I too, wish an honorable death, like Boadicea."

Will felt his heart stop at her words, equal parts proud and terrified. "Tess-"

"I would rather die than be the Magister's tool. Give me a weapon, Will."

His body shuddered against hers. "I can do that for you," he said at last, subdued. How could he refuse her at this point? "What was the second thing? That you wanted?"

Tessa swallowed. "I want to kiss you one more time before I die."

His eyes flew wide. Did he just hear her correctly or did he just go round the bend and begin hallucinating?! "Don't-"

"Say anything I don't mean," she finished for him. "I know. I am not. I meant it, Will. And I know it is entirely beyond the bounds of propriety to ask it." Hang propriety! his mind shouted. "I know I must seem a bit mad." She glanced down, and then up again, Will still too shocked to say anything. "And if you can tell me that you can die tomorrow without our lips ever touching again, and you will not regret it at all, then tell me, and I will desist in asking, for I know I have no right-"

Her words were cut off, for he had caught hold of her and pulled her against him, and crushed his lips down against her. For a split second it was almost painful, sharp with desperation and thinly controlled hunger. And then he gentled, with a force of restraint it took every fiber of Will's self-discipline to muster, and the slide of lips against lips, the interplay of tongue and teeth, altered from pain to pleasure in the sliver of a moment.

On the balcony at the Lightwoods', he had been so careful, but he was not being careful now. He didn't have the luxury of time to be careful. His hands slid roughly down her back, tangling in her hair, fisting in the loose fabric at the back of her dress. Half-lifting her so their bodies collided; she was against him, her body soft and pliable at the same time. Her head slanted to the side as he parted her lips with his and they were not so much kissing as devouring each other. He felt her fingers grip his hair tightly, hard enough that it hurt a little, and her teeth grazed his bottom lip. He groaned and pulled her tighter, making her gasp for air.

"Will-" she whispered, and he stood up, lifting her in his arms, still kissing her. She held tight to his back and shoulders as he carried her over to the bed and laid her down on it. She was already barefoot; he kicked off his boots and climbed up beside her. Part of her training-thank the Angel-had been in how to remove gear, and her hands were light and quick on his gear, undoing the clasps and pulling it aside like a shell. He batted it aside impatiently, and knelt upright to undo his weapons belt, annoyed for the first time there was so much effort required to remove the newly offending clothing of a Shadowhunter.

Will felt her gaze as Tessa watched him. He knew now was the moment she needed to tell him to stop if she didn't want to take this any further. She was silent. His scarred hands were nimble, undoing the fastenings, ans as he turned to drop the belt over the side of the bed, his shirt-damp with sweat, and sticking to him-slid up and showed the hollow curve of his stomach. Will had never particularly thought about his body other than in terms of being fit to carry out his duties as a Shadowhunter. He had never thought how a woman might view his body as he'd never expected to be in a situation like this. He vaguely wondered what Tessa might think. He didn't have to wonder long because she reached out to touch him, to run her fingers, as soft as spider silk, across the flat hard skin of his stomach.

His response was immediate and startling. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, his body going very still, trying to control his body's reaction. She ran her fingers along the waistband of his trousers. Her hand curved about his waist, thumb flicking against his hipbone, drawing him down.

He slid down over her, slowly, elbows resting on either side of her shoulders, as he didn't want to crush her. Their eyes met, held; they were touching all along their bodies, but neither of them spoke. Will was almost afraid that if they did, it would break whatever magic was guiding them. "Kiss me," Tessa said.

Will lowered himself slowly, slowly until their lips just brushed. She arched upward, but he drew back, nuzzling at her cheek, now his lips pressing the corner of her mouth-and then along her jaw and down her throat. This was when Will wanted to take his time, to savor every moment they had. If one good thing-other than sometimes procuring useful information-came from the times he had visited the Devil Tavern, it was that Will knew how to please a woman, even if it was only in theory; theory that was about to be put to the test for the first time.

"Will." Tessa's hands pulled at his shirt, and it came away, the buttons tearing, his head shaking free of the fabric, all wild dark hair, Heathcliff on the moors. His hands were less sure on her dress, but it came away as well, off over her head, and was cast aside, leaving her in a shift and some type of contraption that looked like a torture device around her entire torso. Will took a wild look at the garment that was only part desire. What the bloody hell was it?

"How-" he said. "Does it come off?"

Tessa giggled. Will wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. "It laces," she whispered. "In the back." And she guided his hands around her until his fingers were on the strings of the garment. He felt her shiver then. He supposed it wasn't from the cold, but from the intimacy of the gesture. Will pulled her against him, gentle now, and kissed the line of her throat again, and her shoulder where the shift bared it, his breath soft and hot against her skin until she was breathing just as hard as he was, her hands smoothing up and over his shoulders, his arms, his sides. She kissed the white scars the Marks had left on his skin, winding herself around him until they were a heated tangle of limbs and she was swallowing down the gasp he made against her mouth.

"Tess," he whispered. "Tess-if you want to stop-" He had to give her one more chance to stop this. It would kill him if she regretted this, even if they only had a matter of hours to live anyway, it would still hurt. He needed to hear again she wanted this.

He thanked the Angel silently when she shook her head, silent herself.

"You want this?" His voice was hoarse.

"Yes," she said. "Do you?"

Will almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. His finger traced the outline of her mouth. "For this I would have been damned forever. For this I would have given up everything." In a way, he felt like he already had, but she didn't need to know that.

He saw her blink wet lashes. "Will..."

"Dw i'n dy garu di am byth," he said. "I love you. Always." And he moved to cover her body with his own.

Will kissed and kissed Tessa. His kisses, once urgent, were now gentle and slow. If this was the only night he had to be with Tessa, he was going to savor it. She must've felt the same because she did not try to hurry him, either. Her arms wrapped around his neck, anchoring him in place. He still pulled away from her enough to begin to pull her shift up her body, his lips never leaving hers until they sat up so he could pull it over her head, leaving her in only her cotton drawers. His eyes were immediately drawn to her bared torso, and more specifically to her breasts. He had seen quite a few scantily-clad women in his few years exploring the Downworld, but he'd never seen perfection of the likes of Tessa's body. She was all roses and cream.

He was a bit surprised that Tessa didn't seem uncomfortable in her state of undress in his presence. She seemed-confident, not a hint of hesitancy in her demeanor. There was neither shyness, nor uncertainty in her eyes; only lust. Pure, unadulterated lust. It made Will's blood catch fire and shoot desire even faster through his veins. As much as Will was ready, he knew she needed to be ready for him. He didn't want to cause her any pain. He'd heard enough men and creatures complain about how it didn't feel quite as good if the woman wasn't properly 'primed.' Those comments had always disgusted him. Males who didn't take the time to make sure his partner found enjoyment during sexual encounters were selfish beyond belief, and Will had vowed to himself that if he ever broke the curse he believed to be under, and he found a woman to love him, he would always make sure she found her pleasure as well.

Will was brought out of his reverie when Tessa began to shimmy the last remaining article of clothing from her body. He helped her and then she was gloriously naked. Will took his time as he took his fill of looking at her body. She was magnificent. There was simply no other word to describe her beauty. He noticed that she did blush when he stared-maybe a little too long-on the triangle of brown curls at the juncture of her thighs.

"You are perfect, Tessa," he whispered.

She held her hand out to him, he took it as she said in a breathy tone, "Touch me, Will."

He didn't need telling twice. He sat back and pulled her into his lap and kissed her. To begin, he placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her collarbones. He felt her shudder as his hands slowly drifted downward to cover her breasts, testing their weight in his palms. It was like holding two perfect peaches. He experimented with different motions; rubbing his palms or circling his thumbs over her nipples, lightly squeezing her breasts. Her moans filled his ears, and Will's erection was insistently pressing against his trousers, demanding to be loosed. Not yet, Will thought, not yet.

Tessa's hands were in his hair, gliding over his back, squeezing his shoulders. Will found her touches were spurring him to become less gentle and more hurried-she didn't seem to mind. If anything, her moans only became louder, her tugs to his hair harder, her fingernails now raking down his back. He was sure there would be marks come morning. Although they would not be permanent marks, not like the kind given by a tattoo needle or stele, he was sure to feel where her fingernails had scratched him for the rest of his life, long after they had faded into invisibility.

Will urged Tessa to lay on the bed once again and quickly shucked the rest of his clothing. Laying his body on his left side, he lightly placed his hand on her belly, staring into her eyes as he trailed his hand lower and lower until he reached her sex. Her eyes closed as he brushed his fingers over her folds, teasing her. She moaned and Will pushed a finger through her folds until he found her bundle of nerves and circled it with the tip of his index finger. Tessa's hips bucked upwards. Will grinned like the cat that got the canary.

Will steadily increased sped and pressure, and Tessa's hips began to rotate rhythmically. It was arousing to watch, his stiffened member insistently poking into her hip. Leaning down he took her nipple into his mouth, completely ravishing it. Never one to leave a job half done, he paid similar attention to the other. Her moans were breathy and sultry, and near constant now, for Will had ventured to move a finger inside her channel, keeping pressure on her bud with the heel of his hand. With the crook of a finger, Tessa broke, crying out his name. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Will had never seen a sight more arousing or intoxicating in his entire life.

Finally coming back to herself, Tessa looked at him, her eyes smoldering. Will felt his mouth go dry as she none-too-gently pushed his shoulder, making him fall backward. He was so shocked that he sprawled out on the bed, but was then stunned speechless when she threw her leg over his middle, straddling him. Without a word, she wrapped her hand around his member and slowly began to move it up and down. His mind was so addled at her touch and the sensations her hand wrought that it didn't occur to him that she seemed to know what to do without any direction from him whatsoever.

For a moment Will thought he wasn't going to be able to hold on, but before he could tell her to stop, she stilled. She rose up onto her knees and shuffled forward until she was poised above him. Taking his member in hand, she slowly lowered her body, sheathing him entirely. Thought and speech were so robbed of Will that he didn't even register that there had been no resistance to his entrance, he was so caught up in the feeling of her tight passage hugging all around his shaft. It was glorious. Life couldn't get any better than this, he thought. He was oh-so-wrong about that!

Tessa began to move, rolling her hips, hands braced on his abdomen, head in a reverence-like bow. Trying to steady his own emotions, Will grabbed her hips so tightly there would be bruises later. She didn't tell him to lighten his grip, though. If anything, she quickened her pace at the grip that was just over the line of painful. He used the feeling of his thumbs over her hipbones to ground himself, not ready to lose himself in the pleasure just yet. Taking note of her rhythm, Will began to thrust his hips upwards. Tessa moaned and let her head fall backwards, exposing her neck to his view. He quickly sat up and latched onto her throat, sucking on the pulse point where neck met shoulder for a few moments, stilling all other movement. He needed time to compose himself.

"Will-Will," Tessa moaned. "I need you."

Will twisted them and pushed her onto her back, taking control of their lovemaking. Placing his weight onto his knees and elbows, he began thrusting into her. His name fell from her lips like a prayer, beseeching the Angel for more, moving her hips to meet his. Will nearly lost his head completely when she whispered, "More!" into his ear. He obliged her request. Her eyes were shut tight and her nails were digging into his back just under his shoulder blades hard enough to draw blood, which they would never discover in their haste to leave the room the next morning.

Skin met skin, a slapping sound reverberating throughout the room. Moans and grunts alike, and names whispered from the lovers could be heard. Knowing that he was reaching the edge of his climax, Will began to rub her nub with his thumb, pressing hard. Tessa gasped and her back arched from the bed. Her walls fluttered around him and he broke as well, emptying himself fully inside her. He collapsed beside her on the bed. Minutes later, after both having caught their breath, they rolled to face each other.

"By the Angel, Tess, I love you," he declared, pulling her close and kissing her soundly.

"Will," she sighed into his mouth.

Sated and exhausted, Will rolled onto his back, taking Tessa with him. Her head rested on his shoulder and he briefly registered the cool metal of her clockwork angel before he fell into a blissful sleep.

Tessa-

Late in the night or early in the morning, Tessa woke. The fire had burned down entirely, but the room was lit by the peculiar torchlight that seemed to go on and off without rhyme or reason. She drew back, propping herself on her elbow. Will was asleep beside her, immured in the unmoving slumber of the utterly exhausted. He looked at peace, though-more so than she had ever seen him before. His breath was regular, his eyelashes fluttering slightly in dreams. She wondered what they were.

She had fallen asleep with her head on his arm, the clockwork angel, still around her throat, resting against his shoulder, just to the left of his collarbone. As she moved away, the clockwork angel slipped free and she saw to her surprise that where it had lain against his skin it had left a mark behind, no bigger than a shilling, in the shape of a pale white star.

Tessa laid back down beside him, also content, ready for sleep to claim her once more. To her dismay, sleep wouldn't come. She wasn't exactly troubled or feeling overly guilty at what she and Will had done. It was true what she'd tried to tell Will days ago at the Institute, about her heart divided equally in half, one half beating for Jem, the other for Will. Jem was gone and Tessa knew that he would be happy that her and Will had been able to find comfort in each other, especially if they were only hours from death. If there was one person Jem would be able to accept that Tessa was also in love with, it would be Will. Feeling better knowing that Jem would understand and not be angry with her from the after life made Tessa feel peaceful once again, and she drifted off back to sleep, where thankfully, there were no nightmares waiting for her.

I wish to apologize that it took me over a year to post a chapter. Life just got in the way. It also didn't help that I lost my inspiration a bit, but I think it's been revitalized. 2020 has definitely sucked. I know that we still have hard times upon us, even with the New Year, but I hope that 2021 will eventually be better for everyone.

I hope you don't mind I envisioned that Will would be rougher with Tessa than Jem. Will is all fire where Jem is calm. Don't worry, Jem and Tessa will have one more encounter that will let you know he wasn't so gentle all the time. ;)

Happy New Year, everyone!